#( I know what thunder feels like ↳ character study. ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-998h · 7 months

Note

Hello! Before I ask for this request I just wanted to apologize, I hope I’ll be able to make my requests more organized and shorter, so it’ll be easier to digest! And my time is Eastern Time Zone so yeah!

SAGAU + MODERN!TEEN!READER

Instead of asking for the usual Child!{Reader} who’s technically from another universe and fights monsters, I would like to request one where {Reader} was from our world, but is still around 13-14 years old

Also I would say that {Reader} had just began to play the game, so they would barley understand how the world works when they were Isekai’ed into said game—while panicking at the same time because oh my god they’re in a game—But they have school tomorrow, and their homework!

When {Reader} descends to Teyvat they go through the whole “Oh my god the Creator!” From characters and endless praise, with only confusion on their part—

But while they question their life choices—they also decide to interact more with most of the characters, as they begin to question how this magical world exactly works

Of course people like the Archons were confused on why you seemed like you had forgotten all about your creation of Teyvat and that you came back in the body of a child—though they decided to put off those thoughts for now as they explained Elements like Geo, Pyro, Dendro—you get the idea [though I myself barely know what half of those powers or called or how they work]

I headcannon that in Teyvat—while they seem far advanced despite being thousands of years younger than {Reader}’s world, I feel like in certain areas of study like Medical and Science is often ignored

Of course not fully ignored but is far underdeveloped [Unless I’m completely incorrect than just ignore this whole ask I guess💀] since in Genshin you can easily cook up foods that have odd healing abilities, even to the point of reviving dead people [If we’re sticking to game lore even when {Reader} arrived in Genshin] people have Visions which allow them to wield powers to let them heal or harm things, and this also goes for the statues of ‘The Seven’ that can heal your party

And I would suspect that they wouldn’t know too much info on things like cells, atoms, energy and more [Ex. Water is made up of H2o, but in Genshin water is water and also used for Hydro] or how their Medical equipment would be like as advanced only up to like the 40-60’s in {Reader}’s world, and only have basic medicines and cures—since humans exist in Genshin and they most likely don’t have powers from what I know

So to say the least {Reader} would be confused and questioning everything about Teyvat and how it works

Like when the Archons explained elemental powers {Reader} would question if some powers branch off of others, and if {Reader} accidentally taking it literally—like they think that Electro was actually summoned from the clouds, so they’re like “Oh so Electro is made from Pyro and Anemo?” And when the Archons are like: “?? Wha—“ And {Reader} is gonna be like ‘🤓👆’ “Because thunder is when the lightning channel’s temperature reaches up to 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit which immediately after the air cools it down and caused the sound of thunder from the rapid contractions. So Electro would be made from Pyro and Anemo—right?” [Yes I had to look that up to write that, I don’t even know if that’s correct—]

And after that the Archons just look at {Reader} like they’re crazy but also very worried for them

Soon a few characters, who probably are smart—at least in Teyvat they would be considered would approach {Reader} with questions about science and more, thinking that since {Reader} is the Creator they would obviously know more, and would basically treat their knowledge like the greatest gift they’ve ever received

And just imagine a scenario where {Reader} gathers a group of characters [Which you can pick who would want to learn more] who are interested enough in science to want to learn more, as {Reader} pulled out their phone—which somehow teleported with them to Genshin, as they play a YT video about Life Science, and after the video ends the characters are amazed and in awe, as one speaks on how this has to be the most informative piece of film, and how many scientists must have had to research for this video— and {Reader} is just like “This video is made for like 11 year olds to learn” and the characters are like “Wha-“

And a lot of times people like Tighnari [who I think would be interested enough] would spend time with {Reader} by listening them ramble about Life Science

I feel like {Reader} would be really interested in characters who have inhuman characteristics—especially the ones with animal ears and tails

Like when {Reader} first met Kirara they found Kirara’s toe beans adorable, and was amazed by her two tails

And {Reader} would pet Gorou if he let them [Of course he would since {Reader} is the Creator🙄/j]

Aswell as when {Reader} met Sara they were really interested in her wings and asked if they were real and if they worked

And another scenario where it’s late and an Archon[of your choice] goes to the depths of the Avidya Forest where Tighnari resides, since they had dropped {Reader} off there to spend time with him, and they find {Reader} and him in his hut/house, with him sitting on the ground while {Reader} had gloves on and was in the middle of piercing his ears—Tighnari just gives the Archon a little wave, while {Reader} happily talks about putting little ropes in the holes where they pierced his ears so they can go out and get earrings for him tomorrow!

That’s all I request! I hope it was easier to read this time! Have a good day!

-🍉ANON

Teen Creator Isekei Adventures

When they see you

Everyone across Teyvat was awaiting the return of their beloved Creator. There were many artist who have drawn depictions of the Creator over the centuries by now they get to see what you look llike. The archons are the ones who will greet you. They weren't expecting a teenager by they can work with it.

The reacts are mixed. Some are filled with joy and don't notice the fact that their God is a teenager, some brush it off, and some are worried/ wondering if it's like how Nahida was born after Rukkhadevata's death. They all notice one thing, and it is that you seem to be freaking out.

Everyone tries to comfort you, and try to figure out why you keep mentioning home work and school, you're a god you know ow everything.

Having world mechanics explained + Life Science

Well, they're a bit worried that you seem to have forgotten that fact that you created everything. So when the archons, shcolars, historians, etc sit you down and explain stuff to you they hope it makes sense. You then hit them with this.

"Oh so Electro is made from Pyro and Anemo?” you ask.

They'll all very confused because what are you talking about and they ask you to explain.

“Because thunder is when the lightning channel’s temperature reaches up to 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit which immediately after the air cools it down and caused the sound of thunder from the rapid contractions. So Electro would be made from Pyro and Anemo—right?”

They still don't understand but a few such as Tighnari, Xianyun, Alhaitham, Albedo, Surcorse, Layla, and literally any character who can be affectionately be classified as a nerd.

When you find that your phone, not only came with you but that it also still worked you get an idea.

In the halls of the Akademiya you pull out your phone, go onto YouTube and play the first video you can find about Life Science.

They enjoy it a lot more then you thought they would. Thye all praise how much research went into his amazing piece of film and you responded with.

“This video is made for like 11 year olds to learn”

This confused them but they still enjoyed it, especially Tighnari.

Ears, toe beans, tails, and wings

When you learn Kirara has toe beans, your next course of action is to walk unto her after her work day ends and ask her if you can touch them. She is shocked at first but let's you touch them. Did you know that cat claws are retractable? And that pushing slightly on toe beans causes the class to come out, well you do now. You put a little pressure on Kirar's toe beans to watch her claws go in and out. Then you ask her if you can touch her ears and tail, to which she lets you. She blushes as you fawn over her two tails. She also tries to answer your questions about how she has two tails.

Gorou would blush a bit when you ask if you can pet his ears. Under his tough general facade he is a good boy it needed headpats. He blushes the whole time you pet his ears. When you get close to his tail though... in the words of Kuzco.

"No touchy! no touchy! no touch."

He keeps his tail away from you. It's very sensitive and he just doesn't like people touching his tail.

While expressionless on the outside, Sara smiles on the inside everything you fawn over her wings and ask her many questions about them. She doesn't mind you asking questions, but she doesn't let you touch them.

Adventures in the Avidya Forest feat. Tighnari

After your Life Science stunt in the Akademiya Tighnari was genuinely curious about you knowledge, because he is a curious fox boy.

The archons think you need to de social in order to grow into a well rounded god. Well, at least Nahida thought so. When your life science stunt was over Tighnari asked if you would like to come to Gandharva Ville with him.

You said yes and he let your rant about life science. Now everyone you go to Sumeru it is a priority to visit Toghnari. The archons thought this friendship was cute while some people were jealous.

One day Zhongli dropped you off at Tighnari's and told you two to have fun. You two were having the best time two people could have. As night came Zhongli went to puck you up. He walked in and saw you, with gloves, trying times piece Tighnari's ears. Tighnari waves at Zhongli. Zhongli sighs and tells you it's time to go home. You say no and that you need to finish Tighnari's ears. Zhongli offers to let Tignari stay the night with you two, and then will help him find a good place for ear piercing. You both agree and have an awesome sleep over.

#cult au #sagau #genshin fanfic #creator!reader #sagau lore #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Say You Want Me Too

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 1311

A storm rages outside the tall stone walls of Dragonstone, the night sky as dark as obsidian, the sky full of heavy clouds lit only by the occasional sparks of lighting that flash across the sky, thunder often rumbling the bowels of the castle. Jacaerys sat in his chambers reading his high valerian study book in bed by candlelight, already dressed for bed often muttering words to himself,

“Se guēse's skoriot… skoriot… nektogon ilagon va se endia… tistālior…” He mutters to himself,

When suddenly a timid knock comes on his door,

"Enter!" the young prince said, expecting the maester or his younger brother perhaps.

Slowly the door creaks open and as he glances up he takes a double take to check he is indeed seeing what he thinks he is, as much to his surprise he sees his betrothal Y/n, in her small blue velvet slippers and sky blue silk nightie with silver embroidery. Her hair in a tight braid that falls around her shoulder, a candlestick in her hand. She closes the door and stands sheepishly, "I pray I am not disturbing you, my lord Velaryon,"

Jacaerys's mind was racing, His heart beat faster as he realised what this situation could entail, What reason could she have for coming here? This late? Is she in search of comfort? and the fact that Y/n was in such a state was causing certain, desires to arise. "No, my Lady, you are not disturbing me. What reason do you have to seek me out? Is something amiss?"

She slowly approached his bed but she stopped before getting too close, she trembled as she held her small candle almost forcing out her words, "Forgive me I do not wish to be any trouble,"

"You do not know the trouble you cause me my lady," he thought, "So, what brings you to my chambers this late at night?"

she blushed slightly her head tips down to the floor before she gathered the strength to meet his eyes once more, even if her eyes do flick down to him in his bed, "I do not mean to be trouble" she blushed, "forgive me, I am still... New to Dragonstone, and we do not get storms such as this back home... I admit, I am frightened." She explained "I know that must seem foolish to yourself my lord Velaryon, you have been here so long and... Ride the back of a dragon, and fight with sword and lance… I know the idea of rain and lightning in being fearful must seem childish,"

Jacaerys smiles as he sees his maiden blush. "No, no, do not you dare say that. There is nothing childish about feeling fear." He reaches his arms out for her. "Come, my lady, there is no need to be frightened when I am here I will protect you from anything, be it lightning or bandits or anything else that you may have to fear. But for now, you can get into my bed, I will not let anything come to hurt you.”

“Are you sure my lord?”

“I am, come on.” He smiled,

she blushed and set down her candle before she moved closer, she took his hands her skin soft in his rougher hands,

Jacaerys smiles and moves to make space to sit with her in his large bed. "Now, my lady, all you need to do is relax and close your eyes, and I promise I will protect you from anything that can harm you. I ask only one thing of you..." He smiled,

"thank you, my lord, you did not have to be so kind to me" she giggled feeling him so close, "what is it you ask my lord?" She asks squeezing his hands in hers,

Jacaerys chuckles, "There is nothing that I can ask of you that you do not already give me...But,” Jacaerys can hardly contain himself, he wants his little betrothal but he must remain composed. "Can I... Have a kiss, my lady?" He asks her, his words breathless as his heart beats harder.

She blushed at her betrothal’s request, her eyes flickering down to the bed a moment before she looked up and nodded moving and pressing her lips to his cheek, her lips soft and smooth her whole self smelled like honey, when she pulled back her face is red and she squeezed his hands, Jacaerys squeezes her hands his heart is pounding so fast he cannot hold still as he stares into her eyes. He can barely control himself,

"My lady..." He whispers to her, his voice shaking with intensity, "May I ask you for one last thing?"

"yes, Jacaerys?" she bats her eyes,

Jacaerys moves his hands to her cheeks, "May I ask... for a kiss… on the mouth?" He is almost trembling now, he cannot control himself. He wants this beauty so badly,

"Are you sure we are not yet married?" she began to tremble,

"We are betrothed my lady, we are to be married..." He said, "A kiss is not enough to ruin that, my lady." he smirked slightly “She is so sweet and innocent,” he thought of taking advantage of her crossed his mind, but he forced it away, "Please? Just one kiss..."

Y/n blushed even harder and squeezed his hands she nodded and shuffled closer she gently pressed her smooth lips to his own, her lips tasted of honey too, her taste and scent almost overwhelmed him as they shared the kiss their lips moved together a few times before a crack of thunder rumbles across the sky and lightning flashes through the chamber which makes her pull away and slightly squeak in fright,

He chuckled at her reaction and moved his hand to the small of her back, drawing her body closer to his enveloping her in his arms, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head keeping her close and safe, "By the gods..." he whispers to her, The thunder crackles louder and louder and she buries herself into his chest. He can feel her small frame pressed against him and his instincts are to hold her even tighter.

“I’m sorry I-”

“It’s alright, you're scared. But no need to fear I am right here my lady,”

“Thank you Jace,” but more thunder cracked which made her burrow into his chest in fear,

“Shhh shhh shh it’s okay, I’m here,” He cooed, after a while of quiet he looked down at her he felt the burning desire for the girl that would soon be his bride, how she cuddled him, how she looked in her sweet state and he knows he can’t hold back any longer, "I could never do without you. I need you, my lady".He growled kissing her head, "Please, say the words that will make me yours. I am ready for you".

"what? What are you talking about Jace?"

"I want you my lady... In more ways than one, more than anyone else could ever imagine." He pauses, his words almost catching in his throat. "I love you... and I want you, it is as simple as that."

"I see. I do love you Jace you have been nothing but kind to me since I arrived and I'm sure we shall have a long and happy marriage" She nodded

"But my lady, you do not understand..." he gasped, "You are all I ever wanted, but I want more than what you are telling me. I do not want to wait for marriage, I want it now, now that I have tasted your sweetness"...

"you want what my prince?"

"I want YOU." He says, with great passion and determination. "You, Y/n. Now. please… I beg you… say you want me too.”

“I… I do,” she blushed, “Very much,”

“Then let me make you forget this storm and make this a night we shall remember for the rest of our days,” He stroked her cheek and she nodded so he bit his lip a moment before he pulled her into a intense kiss.

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petit-etoile · 10 months

Note

hi! :) i love your writing!! Could i request an Astarion fic based on the Mahmoud Darwish Quote “they asked ‘do you love her to death’ / i said ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.’”?

it's our last chance ( we'll get it right )

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 2,902 content warnings: canonical discussions of death, spoilers for astarion's act iii romance, spiritual interlude to this fic, references to cann.ibalism as a metaphor for love, an exploration of how s.ex can be healing, the faintest hints of a mortal!tav but that's up to the reader, what if s.ex cures vampirism ? other tags: canon compliant, character study, introspection, codependency, religious imagery & symbolism, p.orn with plot archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia, @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added to the taglist here

summary: ‘Gale asked me tonight if I loved you,’ Astarion tells you. ‘He asked if I loved you purely. I’ve never loved anything purely in my life, but I knew what he meant. He asked, ‘Will you love them to death?’ That’s why I brought you here tonight.’

This is a night reminiscent of the day he died.

The sun has faded out over the horizon. The streets are bloodied once more, and hundreds of shadows have transformed into the shape of a bat.

Astarion’s grave is very old and covered with moss. You watch as he kneels in front of it and brushes his fingers across his name in reverence. You join him and cross your fingers together in prayer. You don’t know what you’re praying for but you mumble the words under your breath. It isn’t until you start digging that you begin to understand why you’re really here. You dig and dig and find relics of a life you never knew — dead flowers and childhood toys, tears that you cry. A mother and father’s love.

Astarion looks so much younger now that Cazador no longer hangs over his very being. The tension around his eyes has lessened, and even though he’s feeling something you can’t imagine, he wears the smallest smile as you uncover the gifts left behind by his family. Proof that Astarion lived, proof that Astarion existed. You dig until your fingers reach nothing and then you turn to him. He means to plant a seed and watch it grow.

He hands you seeds from a flower you can’t remember the name of. You pour them into the depths of this grave and fill it back up with dirt. You drop handfuls and wait for it to rain. You turn your chin up to the sky and wait for the storm clouds to release rapture.

‘I love you,’ Astarion says suddenly.

He looks at you like a man learning to see for the first time. The softness of his features only intensifies the longer he looks at you. Astarion is always made up of hard angles and harsh lines but tonight, he looks upon you with an earnestness you haven’t seen for him in quite some time. You’re caught off-guard when he caresses your cheek.

If Baldur’s Gate were to weather a storm tonight, Astarion would be the warmth from the cold of the rainstorm. You close your eyes at his touch and lean your cheek into it, nuzzling his palm. Astarion decides that it isn’t enough. He’s selfish, manipulative, roguish and cruel, but when he leans forward and kisses you with his plump mouth, you forget about all those things. It’s healing. You open your lips for him.

‘I love this,’ he murmurs, snaking a hand down to the small of your back. ‘And I want it all.’

The storm breaks overhead, but Astarion covers your body with his and you forget that you hate the sound of thunder. He kisses the very soul of you, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. There’s something about the way he nips at your skin that infinitely thrills you. How could a man so determined to be dangerous, so keen on becoming the most powerful man in the world melt at the sound of your voice? Had Astarion always been this weak for you, or was this a new transgression in his never ending quest to crush his desires?

Astarion kisses you.

He is the only thing that quenches your thirst.

He knows that.

When you first fell from the illithid ship, you had felt a hunger unlike any other swell up in your gut. It was freedom you had never experienced, and somehow, you came out on top. What happened after that was only like the romances you had read about. When a beast hunter falls in love with their bounty, when a mortal loves their immortal despite the difference, when an angry vampire becomes softer and softer the more he learns about kinder touch. You’re a romantic, after all.

You think that you should talk about it. You want to ask Astarion if he’s sure. But of course he’s sure, he’s never been surer of anything. Asking him now would be a disservice, you think. He’s worked so hard to come this far. You don’t ask. You kiss Astarion back like you’ve never kissed anyone before.

His mouth is yearning. Astarion pines for you like a prince pines for a sweetheart — and his mouth and his tongue and his teeth are so overwhelming that you can’t help but cling to his shoulders, using him as a lifeline.

He turns his cheek against yours and sighs wistfully against your skin. Slowly, carefully, Astarion presses his fingers between your legs curiously. He does it just to hear you gasp. You meet his eyes, and your cheeks burn so hotly you think you might be dizzy. Astarion consumes your soul. He presses you down in the flowers you planted above his grave. Clover, daisies, and asters grow around, twirling in your hair as Astarion collapses into your arms. You hold him as he shakes.

‘I was dead before I met you,’ Astarion whispers in the crook of your neck. ‘I was a ghost.’

‘You’re alive now,’ you promise. He cradles your soul in his hands. ‘You’re alive now and you’re the sun, and I love you.’

Maybe it’s not that you aren’t sure Astarion is ready. You’re nervous about the setting. It’s not that it’s inappropriate or dire, but that anyone could see at any time and you were a selfish creature. For so long, it has always been you and Astarion and everyone else. Now, Astarion presses into the space between your hips and mouths at your chest. He tastes your skin and your nipples, and you shiver at the touch. He eats your heart. You’re grateful.

‘I’m not convinced,’ Astarion says roughly. ‘Should I die, where will I go?’

‘You will go where I go,’ you say as he sinks into your flesh. ‘You are half my soul. I’ll beg the gods. We can never be one without the other.’

‘And if they deny you?’

‘I’ve already killed gods,’ you say. ‘What are a few more if they deny me my love?’

Astarion lets out a satisfied hum, content with the fruit you have given him. He ripens you with his fingers and you turn your head. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and allow him to caress your sides, closing your eyes as he touches the more ticklish parts of your body. He nibbles at your collarbones

You say, ‘This isn’t your grave.’

Astarion’s mouth ghosts over your skin, and finally, he sinks his cock into you until you’re gasping for air. It pushes and fills and causes lights to dance in the corner of your eyes. You touch the little hairs at the nape of his neck to distract yourself.

‘You’re right,’ Astarion says softly.

‘A place of rebirth.’

‘A place of happiness, my love,’ he says. ‘Now when I see it — ’

‘More,’ you whisper.

You feel a rush of tenderness sweeping through your veins. You are drawn to it like a moth to light, and you chase Astarion as he flees from you, sliding your hips back against his so that he’s never gone for too long. You waited patiently for Astarion. Every touch, every kiss is a feeling so rare that you can’t help but savor it. You admire the vulnerability he shows you, and when he leans back to lift your hips higher for a better angle, you moan softly and cry.

Astarion’s fingers burn holes into your skin. He leaves a wildfire against your skin. It leaves you wanting more. But you’re always going to want more, aren’t you? Even a lifetime of Astarion is not enough. You seek the warmth in his gaze.

You aren’t sure how long you’ll last. The time between your trysts and the sheer passion causes you to be needy. He likes it that way too. Likes the way that you’ll always seek him out first. The first in your heart. The first in your soul. You wish you could pour yours out of your body to give it to him. He’s half your soul regardless of what he might say. You never understood the concept of an immortal soul until now. You pull Astarion back to you and kiss him, teeth to teeth.

But it’s not enough.

You don’t think it will ever be enough. You dig your nails into his spine and hold onto him. You cry weakly. It feels too good and like it’s too much at the same time. You part your legs wider and drag him further, hypnotized by the feel of his thighs beneath yours. Astarion shows an enthusiasm you haven’t seen in a while, and you’re reminded of how much you’ve craved him. The knife at your throat, the scowl on his face, the night at the party… Astarion is all-consuming. You never thought it would happen.

At first, you thought Astarion was primed to ignore you forever. You were kind and good and sweet, and now you knew that was everything Astarion was looking for. He tastes your kindness and goodness and sweetness and becomes drunk on the taste of your shared fate.

Astarion bites you on the shoulder but for once, it isn’t to draw blood and feed upon what makes you who you are. It’s a lover’s bite. An inquisitive nibble. That part of sharing is what this is about. He meant it when he said you were more than blood, more than a fling. You always thought about it…

Astarion proving his love to you now was welcomed. You summon a new life for him here during this pale evening. A life where he will not know hurt. A life where he will not be betrayed by those he trusted. Astarion was in your hands now, a crow on your wrist. He sings you a pretty song against your neck. He’s vocal now, content with moaning and mewling as he takes his pleasure in the warmth of your body. You wish you could bottle up his pretty song and take it with you forever.

You press your mouth to the sharp curve of Astarion’s ear, sneaking a kiss against the pointy tip. ‘Come closer to me, my love,’ you whisper. ‘No one must know.’

‘Everyone must know,’ Astarion disagrees softly.

‘Even the birds?’ you ask. ‘Even the trees?’

Astarion smiles. You can feel it. ‘The entire world must.’

‘Are we in love?’ you ask him softly, looking upon him fondly.

‘We are,’ he says, laughing.

You are in love like you have never been in love before. Astarion is a romantic and he cherishes this new world with you. He’s intoxicated by the freedom of your scent. And it’s not as though it’s any different for you. You wrap your legs tightly around his hips and keep him there, and when his arms shake and tremble, you accept his weight.

You kiss his throat and he raises his chin so you can kiss it more. You’ll pretend that it doesn’t entice you. You want to sink your teeth in like he has, to share with him that quiet exaltation. Astarion gives it to you more and more, and finally, you can no longer tame that part of you set to rupture. Your pleasure causes your vision to burn almost.

There is a world where you and Astarion have never met. A world where the mindflayers never devised a plan and you were still searching for enlightenment. The thought of it scares you so you cling to him and you climb into his sternum, holding onto his skin while the world is remade in your image. A world without Astarion is not a world worth living. You know that to be true. That’s why you’re here now.

Astarion follows suit in quick, frantic strokes. He loses himself in the quake of your core and digs his fingers into the dirt next to your head for stability. You watch as pleasure overtakes him and he wavers, choking on a ragged moan. You press unfocused kisses against his shoulders and sink beneath the earth.

It’s a good thing Astarion finds his confidence in the taste of your bones. He eats from you an essence that would make him strong. When he sits up, eyes soft around the edges and mouth swollen from your love, you can see the change in him. Have his shoulders always been that wide? Has his back always been that straight? Has the majesticness of his attitude always been so grandiose?

Astarion holds out his fingers and you kiss the tips of them. You give him a blessing and watch as his skin begins to glow. Cazador had unmade a proud man. You have rehabilitated a broken man. But Astarion is not defined by his brokenness, not authenticated by his terrors and trauma, but by the whims he has shown you tonight.

When Astarion pulls you from the bed you made in the grass, you can see a dim light filtering through the overhead tree. A familiar sight, like the first time. You pull his jacket over your head to avoid any more mess and become acutely aware that Astarion is watching you breathe. He listens with that frightening vampiric hearing as your lungs exhale. He smiles as your heartbeat settles.

You distract yourself as he enjoys his orgasm by making him a crown of flowers. You twist them expertly like you once did in your youth, and when Astarion turns his head, you give him a kingdom. The fresh green of the leaves accentuates the paleness of his hair.

You know what you’ve done even if the world does not. It was an objectively stupid thing to do, Astarion said so himself. Life is a challenge, and you were not a quitter. If anything, you knew that you deserved it. A ghost called your name and you answered, unfrightened by the specter’s cold touch. Slowly, you replaced that frigid air with your own heat until there was nothing but fog in the aftermath.

‘Sometimes,’ Astarion begins when he’s ready, ‘I still have these cruel thoughts. This fear still consumes me but… It’s so unlike before I hardly recognize it.’

‘You’re not his first son anymore,’ you say.

Astarion smiles and slides the crown from his head. He twirls it between his fingers. ‘Not — Not that fear, no. Something else.’

‘What else could frighten you?’

‘Everything,’ Astarion confesses. ‘I listen to your heart when you sleep for any change. I check your face every day for any extra wrinkles.’

You laugh. ‘I’m still young,’ you insist. ‘We have time, Astarion. I am with you every moonrise.’

‘The worst thing about loving you is that I will never stop,’ Astarion says, staring at his headstone. ‘I don’t want you to die in a world where I could still love you.’

You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t mean to cry, but you do. You burrow your face in your hands and weep so hard Astarion wraps his jacket around you and kisses your head, shushing you until you’ve let it all out. It’s…not how you wanted to end the evening.

‘You didn’t let me finish, my love,’ he murmurs against your forehead.

‘Then go on,’ you say miserably.

‘I will never stop loving you,’ Astarion says again. ‘For a thousand more years and one.’

You twist the knuckle on your middle finger anxiously. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to feel.

‘Gale asked me tonight if I loved you,’ he tells you. ‘He asked if I loved you purely. I’ve never loved anything purely in my life, but I knew what he meant. He asked, ‘Will you love them to death?’ That’s why I brought you here tonight.’

You look at him suspiciously, and his ardor steals your breath away. His jacket slips from your shoulders. You watch as he fixes the carvings in his headstone and adds to them in a sprawling language you’re almost too exhausted to read. Eventually, you find your voice again. You lean your cheek against his shoulder, and if your eyelashes are wet against his skin, he says nothing about it.

‘Tonight,’ Astarion says, ‘and on top of my grave, you have brought me back to life. That is a debt that cannot be repaid.’

You turn to him and this time it is your turn. You take Astarion’s jaw in your hands and lift his mouth to yours, kissing him so sweetly you’re almost certain that he swoons from the touch. It’s like kissing him for the first time, a kiss that sweeps over and over, until the ocean of night sweeps over you and you melt into his sinew.

‘You love me?’ you ask him just to hear him say it again.

‘I love you,’ Astarion says.

Love is not always in the eyes of the goddess. Love is buried somewhere most will never find it. It is healing, it is sweeping, it is gratifying. It is watching your lover’s hair turn grey strand by strand every morning. It is chasing the sun before it falls beneath the stars every evening.

You think you get it now.

Astarion rests his cheek against your palm, and for the first night since he was turned into a vampire, he slumbers in your touch. He dreams of a future where you are both mortal and laughing.

‘I love you too,’ you confess, and Astarion smiles in his sleep.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa .#anonymous #my fic #AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #THIS PROMPT LIVED IN MY MIND RENT FREE SINCE I GOT IT #& after a long time trying to decide how to redeem it #i finally figured it out !!!#i hope u enjoy it nonny

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yamayuandadu · 10 months

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The fabrication of a storm god: Susanoo, Taishakuten (Indra) and their histories

When I found this ask in my inbox recently, I initially admittedly wanted to only give a short, dismissive response. After all, the similarity between these two is completely superficial. And, truth to be told, it’s more a vague similarity between how they are presented as “storm gods” by questionable online sources than between their actual roles. However, I quickly realized that would not accomplish much. The best way to counter misconceptions is to show reality is more interesting - and in the case of complex figures with long histories, this requires time and effort. The response, like the recent Tamamo no Mae one, kept growing as a result, and evolved into a fully blown unplanned post. Under the cut, you will find a brief examination of the origin of the erroneous notion that Susanoo was ever understood a “storm god”, as well as a summary of his character character, the main deities linked to him in the Japanese “middle ages”, and finally his fate after the Meiji restoration. In the second half, I deal with the Japanese reception of Indra. While not actually related to Susanoo, he is nonetheless a complex deity worth exploring, even though it feels like he’s not particularly appreciated by hobbyists and his central role in medieval cosmology hardly gets acknowledged.

Victorian confabulations and Meiji mirages: the fabrication of a storm god

Susanoo vanquishing Yamata no Orochi, as depicted by Yoshitoshi Tsukioka (wikimedia commons)

Contrary to what you might have seen in numerous online sources of dubious quality, Susanoo is not a “storm god” (let alone a “thunder god” more specifically). Nothing to that effect shows up in standard points of reference like Encyclopedia of Shinto, and even Wikipedia despite arbitrarily putting him in the weather god category only musters a single 2000 paper which I’ve never seen cited in subsequent Susanoo research as “evidence” of a weather connection.

The most recent in depth treatments of Susanoo in English are a section of Bernard Faure’s monograph Rage and Ravage and David Weiss’ The God Susanoo and Korea in Japan’s Cultural Memory: Ancient Myths and Modern Empire. The former at no point makes any claims pertaining to the weather while discussing him. The latter notes the view that Susanoo was a “storm god” enjoyed some popularity in the late nineteenth century because of the influence of the now long abandoned school of “nature mythology”, in which deities are only ever representations of natural phenomena. This theory was originally formulated by Edward Burnett Tylor, who basically admitted no actual Japanese sources ever present him as a “storm god”, but that this character is nonetheless evident in his vibes (obviously not how he phrased it, but his study deserves no more dignified summary). Tylor’s nonsense was subsequently taken up by a certain Edmund Buckle, who randomly connected his forerunner’s oc with Indra because I guess all weather gods are basically interchangeable (there’s an interesting point to be made about how they’re the one group of male deities who are often treated in poor quality scholarship the way goddesses usually are). By 1899, the theory reached Japan, where it caused a prolonged academic debacle. However, it seems supporters of this view, much like in the west, were the followers of the long since abandoned notion of “nature mythology”. Among the theory’s opponents were researchers such as Masaharu Anesaki. As far as I can tell, it’s essentially irrelevant today.

The oldest available information about Susanoo’s actual character comes from the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki. I don’t think that needs to be discussed here in detail. Even though I often overestimate other people’s familiarity with mythology I think it’s fair to say everyone with just a passing interest in Japan knows at least the basics of the myths about his conflict with his sister Amaterasu, his banishment, and subsequent victory over the serpent Yamata no Orochi. It will suffice to say the oldest recorded mythical image of him is that of an ambivalent deity, a heroic monster slayer on one hand, a transgressor and exile on the other. This polarity remains a core part of him for the rest of his history. The other early sources dealing with Susanoo are various fudoki, regional records. They indicate that in the eighth century he already was connected with diseases. Later on in the Heian period, he also came to be associated with purification. Or to be more precise - he came to be viewed as the archetypal target of purification, in a way. His misdeeds from classical mythology became examples of deeds requiring such ceremonies, performed variously by courtly ritual specialists like the Nakatomi clan, Buddhist clergy, or onmyōdō masters. He also functioned as a jinushi, a “landholder deity” of often ambivalent character tied to a specific location, and an araburugami, a “raging god” defined by causing havoc out of hubris (as opposed to malice).

Gozu Tennō and others: the network of medieval Susanoo Susanoo’s character developed through the Japanese “middle ages” in no small part through associations with other deities, typically caused by his incorporation into Buddhism.

A composite Susanoo-Gozu Tennō, as depicted by Sadahide Utagawa (Östasiatiska Museet, Stockholm)

The single most important figure he came to be linked with was by far Gozu Tennō, the “Bull-Headed Heavenly King”. While religious and literary texts present him as a deity from India, the guardian of the Jetavana monastery, and he was even furnished with an artificial Sanskrit name, Gomagriva Devaraja, his origin is actually uncertain. It’s possible he was inspired by a misreading of a passage from the travelog of the Chinese monk Faxian (c. 337-442). He visited Jetavana in the early fifth century, and reported that there was a statue of a bull next to the monastery’s door, before moving on to describing the supposed first image of the Buddha, which according to him was made from legendary “ox-head sandalwood” and impervious to fire. Confusion between these two passages might have led to the creation of an ox-headed deity. Other proposals are present in scholarship too, but ultimately the matter remains unclear. What is evident is that Susanoo and Gozu Tennō shared many similarities: the latter also was an archetypal “raging deity”, and he too was linked with pestilence. An argument can be made that he was the disease spirit par excellence in medieval Japan, in fact. When properly worshiped, he was supposed to protect the faithful from illnesses, as expected from a deity of this variety. They also shared an association with foreign lands: Gozu Tennō primarily with India, but also with China and Korea, while Susanoo just with Korea, due to a Nihon Shoki episode where he travels to the kingdom of Silla. Yet another point of connection is that both were simultaneously recognized as manifestations of Yakushi (the “medicine Buddha”). Therefore, it comes as no surprise that at the Gion shrine in Kyoto, and in many other locations across Japan, the two were identified fully.

However, the link was at times conceptualized differently than as interchangeability between the two. For instance, Kaneyoshi Ichijō’s treatise Kuji Kongen (公事根源; “Roots of Court Administration and Ceremonies”) Gozu Tennō is merely an “acolyte” (warawabe, 童部) of Susanoo. Granted, this author eventually came to view them as identical himself, which shows how fluid medieval theology could be.

A humorous depiction of Susanoo and Kushinadahime serving pieces of Yamata no Orochi prepared like grilled eel (Ōta Memorial Museum of Art; reproduced here for educational purposes only)

The identification between Susanoo and Gozu Tennō also extended to their wives, respectively Kushinadahime and Harisaijo (波梨采女), as evident for example in the Shaku Nihongi. The latter was regarded as a daughter of the dragon king Sāgara. Things are made slightly awkward by the Nihon Shoki Sanso, where she is a manifestation of Yamata no Orochi (one of the multiple cases of putting a positive spin on the snake). Susanoo in the guise of Gozu Tennō thus effectively marries his nemesis. The marriage itself is a subject of a number of myths. According to Hoki Naiden (簠簋内伝), an onmyōdō manual, the “heavenly emperor” (Taishakuten, one would presume, based on information I’ll discuss later) de facto played the role of a matchmaker between Harisaijo and Gozu Tennō. When the latter was lamenting that due to his monstrous, yaksha-like form - he had the head of a bull - he will never find love, a bird sent by the celestial ruler informed him that it would be appropriate for him and Sāgara’s daughter to get married. This suggestion then evidently works out just fine, and the couple subsequently have eight children, the Hachiōji (八王子, “eight princes”) over the course of thirty seven years.

Hyōbi (wikimedia commons)

There are multiple slightly divergent traditions about the identities of the children. The most notable variable is that a goddess named Jadokkeshin (蛇毒気神; also read Dadokuke no kami; “deity of poisonous snake breath”) sometimes appears among them, sometimes is treated as an independent deity serving Gozu Tennō, and sometimes takes the role of his spouse (in at least one case with Harisaijo quite literally relegated to the role of his ex). She is also identified with the astral deity Hyōbi (豹尾, “leopard tail”) and by extension with Ketu.

Another figure who was closely linked with Susanoo in the middle ages was Matarajin. This tradition was associated with Gakuen-ji. In a local legend, Susanoo started to be called Matarajin after being buried underneath it. I won’t dwell much on Matarajin here since I already wrote a lot about him, and will write even more in the near future, so it will suffice to say the two share a connection to diseases. In Matarajin’s case it is the most pronounced in the “ox festival” still held in modern times at Kōryū-ji.

Shinra Myōjin (wikimedia commons)

Connections between Susanoo and Matarajin’s fellow Tendai old man disease-related deities Sekizan Myōjin and Shinra Myōjin are documented too. Bernard Faure argues that in fact it was Shinra Myōjin who first developed such an association, and it was only transferred to Matarajin as well because of the numerous analogies between them.

A distinct tradition regarding Susanoo developed in the theology of Ise (“Ryōbu shintō”), which as expected was Amaterasu-centric (but also Dainichi-centric!). He came to be linked with Mara and Devadatta as a representation of “fundamental ignorance”, with the conflict between him and Amaterasy gaining an additional Buddhist dimension. At the same time, in the noh play Dairokuten (第六天), which deals with Jōkei’s pilgrimage to Ise, Susanoo appears to protect this monk from Mara. Evidently, in this context Susanoo and Amaterasu are hardly opposed to each other, seeing as the former de facto intervenes on behalf of the latter.

While the notion of rivalry between the siblings obviously did not vanish in the middle ages, and in fact new myths about it started to circulate (in one Matarajin assists Susanoo), it can be argued that it was ultimately the new conflict between Amaterasu and Mara that was central to many medieval theologies. While she and Susanoo could be portrayed as antagonistic, there is a case to be made that there were more similarities between medieval ideas about them than there were differences. That was not meant to last, though.

Later developments

The tradition of associating Susanoo with assorted medieval deities first came under criticism in the eighteenth century. Sadakage Amano, an early proponent of kokugaku ("national learning", an early Japanese nationalist ideology) ideas, wrote a treatise dealing with this matter, Gozu Tennō Ben (牛頭天王辨, “Clarification on Gozu Tennō”). Its core premise is that monks and shrine priests alike are deceptively trying to present “foreign” deities as identical with “native” ones. This point was further developed in the nineteenth century by another kokugaku big name, Atsutane Hirata.

Hirata's self portrait (wikimedia commons)

He reaffirmed that presenting Susanoo and Gozu Tennō as related deities was a nefarious plot, and blamed Kibi no Makibi for starting it. He argued that Makibi spent too much time in China and as a result forsake a pristinely Japanese way of thinking (whatever that wouldn't entail). As a result, when he heard the legend of ox-head sandalwood, which was believed to grow on the mythical continent Uttarakuru and cure diseases, he turned it into a deity, who he subsequently brought to Japan. Then he identified him with Susanoo to increase his prestige.

Was that the historical truth? Kibi no Makibi was an envoy to China and spent around 20 years on the mainland, that much is undeniable. However, the only connection between him and Gozu Tennō I was able to track down is a local legend pertaining to Mount Hiromine in which he meets this deity in a dream, though.

Ultimately like most of Hirata’s writing, his theory consists virtually entirely of confabulations, mostly motivated by extreme levels of xenophobia. Rather ironic for a movement which originally largely developed among the most hardcore neo-Confucian thinkers in Japan. Granted, that’s hardly the only baffling thing about them. The best way to understand what was going on in the heads of kokugaku proponents is to recall how contemporary marble bust profile pic “the west has fallen” trads or Bible literalist creationists function, and adjust that image for the specifics of the Edo period.

Still, kokugaku theories, nonsensical as they were, kept developing, and finally gained government support after the Meiji revolution. In 1868, the Council of State proclaimed that shrines can no longer use “inappropriate” names to refer to their deities. Gozu Tennō was the only example brought up directly, in part possibly because with the reestablishment of the power of the emperor and the rise of the imperial cult it was viewed as suspicious that a deity unrelated to the imperial court had the moniker of tennō (written with different signs, though). The edict also contains a blanket ban on any name with the element gongen. As a result of the new policies numerous locations had to be renamed, and for the most part the history of Gozu Tennō came to an end. He and his peers eventually came back into the spotlight in the second half of the twentieth century as subjects of scholarly inquiries, and the field of study of medieval and early modern Japanese religions is now booming, with entire monographs and articles published in multiple languages each year, but that’s another story.

The history of Susanoo obviously did not end in the 1860s, though. What followed was probably the single darkest page in it, an era of intense efforts to make him identical with Dangun, the legendary founder of Korea. The goal was explicitly to justify Japanese colonial control over Korea through faux-spiritual means. Since Japanese colonial domination of Korea is a relatively recent and deeply serious historical issue compared to what I cover most of the time, I feel it would be inappropriate to deal with it in the same article as medieval literature which ultimately lacks much of a tangible impact on the modern world, so I hope you won’t mind I don’t go deeper into the detail here.

With the matter of Susanoo now settled, let’s move on to Indra. The two were never associated with each other, but the latter developed an equally vibrant network of roles and associated deities around him as Susanoo after being transmitted to Japan.

From Indra to Taishakuten

A typical Hindu depiction of thousand-eyed Indra (wikimedia commons)

Indra has a long and complex history, so long he is in fact attested a handful of times in bronze age cuneiform already as one of the notoriously mysterious non-Hurrian Mitanni deities (sic), invoked as personal deities of the royal house in a lengthy treaty oath. This makes him one of the very few “bridges” between my two major normally disconnected interests (the “cuneiform world” on one hand, and East Asian religions and art on the other).

The biggest early text corpus dealing with Indra are the Vedas, where he is the single most frequently mentioned deity, with quite literally hundreds of hymns praising him. Naturally, he remained a part of the history of Hinduism later on, and today he is still well known thanks to his role in popular epics like Ramayana. His relevance is not limited to this system of beliefs alone, though. He has a small (negative) role in the Avesta (see here), and he was embraced by various schools of Buddhism across much of Asia.

In early Buddhism, the prestige of Indra was not particularly great. This obviously reflects the fact that the formative years of Buddhism were also a period of Indra’s relative decline as an actively worshiped god back at home at the expense of deities central in contemporary Hinduism like Vishnu and Shiva. However, he surprisingly regained some of his original prestige thanks to developments which occurred outside of India. This is well documented in East Asia in particular. I’ll only cover his Japanese reception here - therefore, through most of the rest of the article I will use his Japanese name, Taishakuten (帝釈天), accordingly. Buddhism emphasizes not Indra’s warlike side and his battles with asuras, let alone a connection with the weather, but rather his role as a heavenly ruler. He keeps epithets related to his 1000 eyes, but to the best of my knowledge this is not really reflected in Buddhist art, especially not in Japan. Another role retained by him in Buddhism is that of a directional deity, the protector of the east.

Something that’s worth highlighting is that asuras in general just aren’t that big of a deal in Japanese Buddhism. Outside of enumerations of non-human sentient beings, only Rahu and Ketu have a substantial role, and that’s more because they’re astral deities rather than because they’re asuras. Otherwise the entire category is about as opaque as mahoragas (when you look up “mahoraga” online 99% results are a Jujutsu Kaisen character, as it turns out, which speaks volumes about their general obscurity) and the like. Hard to make opposition to them the focus of a major deity when even gandharvas have a bigger role to play.

I can only think of a handful of major references to battles between Taishakuten and asuras in Japanese literature: an offhand comment in Heike Monogatari (courtesy of Kenreimon-in), a passage from the Taiheiki where Jōkei (who you already met earlier in this article) has the privilege to watch the parties involved reenact the conflict for his benefit, and a myth cited by Annen with no source provided, possibly invented by him. The innovation is that Marici (Marishiten) is a major combatant on the side of the devas, something with no parallel in any other source, whether Buddhist or Hindu. Rahu is singled out among the asuras as an enemy of Taishakuten, but that’s hardly unparalleled.

The conventional image of Taishakuten

A conventional depiction of Taishakuten (wikimedia commons)

For the average Japanese person through much of the country’s history, the most frequent exposure to Taishakuten were standardized oath formulas (kishōmon). These followed a strict hierarchy of deities: Taishakuten, Bonten (Brahma) and the four heavenly kings first, then king Enma, Godo Daishin (Wudao Dashen), Taizan Fukun and other underworld officials (sometimes assisted by astral figures), then kami and representations of Buddhas tied to specific localities (for example the great Buddha of Tōdai-ji), and sometimes various religiously significant historical figures like prince Shotoku or Buddhist patriarchs. Obviously, Taishakuten’s elevated position reflects his role as a heavenly ruler - the “heavenly emperor”, tentei (天帝).

The residence of Taishakuten is the heaven of the thirty three devas (忉利天, Tōriten, a calque from Sanskrit Trāyastriṃśa). It is located on Mount Sumeru, the center of the world according to Buddhist cosmology. Sources from the Heian period indicate the existence of a belief Taishakuten’s heaven is unique in that women could be reborn in it after death without first reincarnating as men. This distinction was otherwise only attributed to the pure land of Maitreya. Note it was not Taishakuten himself who was responsible for guaranteeing that, though, but rather the bodhisattva Fugen, who was particularly popular among Heian court ladies.

Karai Tenjin (wikimedia commons)

Taishakuiten’s major position in the Buddhist-influenced cosmos is also evident in literary compositions focused on other deities. For example, in the Dōken Shōnin Meidoki (道賢上人冥途記, “Record of Dōken Shōnin’s Experience of the Other World”), a version of the legend of Michizane, his revenge is supported by Taishakuten, who gives him a new name, Nihon Dajō Itoku Ten (日本太政威徳天). This is meant to show his banishment was a religious transgression, and we also learn that the emperor responsible for it, Daigo, fell into hell as a result. However, esoteric Buddhism is also credited with calming Michizane down - as he explains himself, “bodhisattvas (...) were there, and they enthusiastically propagated the esoteric teachings. Because I liked these teachings very much, one-tenth of my deeply seated enmity from my past was reduced.” This obviously goes against the more common legend where being enshrined pacifies Michizabe entirely. In the Dōken version he announces that the enshrined deity, who he calls Karai Taiki Dokuō (火雷大気毒王; “King of Fire-Thunder and Poisonous Air”), is merely his messenger #3 (#1 and #2 are not mentioned).

The closest thing I can think of to Taishakuten being associated with the weather in Japanese sources occurs in a version of the Michizane legend, too: in another variant, Michizane states it was Taishakuten alone who permitted him to enact his vengeance and entrusted him with commanding 105000 thunder gods (in the Dōken Shōnin Meidoki there are 168000 attendants instead, “poisonous dragons, evil demons, deities of water and fire, thunder and lightning, the director of the wind, the master of the rain, and other poisonous, harmful, and evil deities”) and causing disasters.

From emperor to heaven to controller of fate

Due to his prominent cosmological role Taishakuten is also described in many sources as a controller of fate responsible for determining the lifespans of living beings. Sometimes, in this capacity he basically overlaps with king Enma - for example, Shishi Yaloan, a Buddhist encyclopedia from the eleventh century, states that he also possesses a mirror in which he can check on his subjects. A local tradition from Tateyama states that he lives on the Taishaku Peak of Mt. Tate, simultaneously regarded as an entrance to Buddhist hell. However, while Enma and the other kings of hell generally stay there, Taishakuten takes a more proactive role, seeking information about the good and bad deeds of the living. Initially, it was believed that a survey of the whole world was conducted on his behalf by the four heavenly kings, but by the tenth century, a belief that he performs it himself every four months himself developed.

The famously unconventional depiction of Taishakuten from Shibamata Taishakuten, still distributed today in the form of ofuda (wikimedia commons)

In the Edo period, Taishakuten as a controller of fate developed a connection with deities associated with the tradition of kōshin nights. In this context he became the deity the three worms living in every person’s body report their good and bad deeds to. Temples associated with him, like Shibamata Taishakuten (famous among other things for its unconventional images of the eponymous deity), were historically a popular destination for pilgrimages tied to kōshin celebrations.

While the fate connection ultimately came to the forefront in Japan, it would be unfair to say it entirely superseded the original heavenly role. As a matter of fact, it was the fact that Taishakuten was a “heavenly emperor” (tentei) that made him such a good fit for kōshin.

The elusive "emissary of Taishaku" As early as in the Muromachi period, yet another deity came to be viewed as responsible for Taishakuten's survey of the world in a variant tradition: one of the so-called “ambulatory deities” (遊行神, yugyōjin; “ambulatory” as in “wandering”, not in the medical sense) , Ten’ichi(jin) (天一神; also read Nakagami), literally “the first deity of heaven”. He was regarded as a “vassal” of Taishakuten and the commander of the Twelve Heavenly Generals. Each of his cyclical surveys of the world lasted 44 days (four times five days for each of the main directions and then four times six for the intermediate ones). That was followed by sixteen days during which he reported the vices and virtues he recorded to Taishakuten in heaven, with his own underling Nichiyū(jin) (日遊神; “playing sun deity”) descending to earth instead. During Tenichi’s absence, which started with a day referred to as Ten’ichi tenjō (天一天上), directional taboos pertaining to various astral deities, which normally had to be countered with a practice known as “changing directions” (方違え, katatagae), did not apply.

Taishaku Shisha (top right) and his peers accompanying Dakiniten (wikimedia commons)

Another interesting thing about Ten’ichi is that he was identified with an elusive deity known simply as Taishaku Shisha (帝釈使者), literally “emissary of Taishaku”. At first glance this doesn’t really sound interesting - after all, Taishaku Shisha’s name sounds exactly like what Ten’ichi does - but completely unexpectedly, the former actually belongs to the entourage of Dakiniten. His attributes make him resemble officials of the underworld, though he is never portrayed as menacing, always as benign, and his duty is to report the good and bad deeds to his superiors, much like Ten’ichi does. He additionally functions as a god of wisdom, which according to Bernard Faure might reflect Dakiniten’s link to the bodhisattva Monju, famous due to an association with this concept.

Curiously, while Taishaku Shisha is at least nominally a member of a group of four “acolytes” of Dakiniten alongside Tennyoshi (天女子; “heavenly maiden”; holds a bow), Shakunyoshi (赤女子; “red maiden”; holds a halberd and a “seduction jewel”, aikei-gyoku, 愛敬玉) and Kokunyoshi (黒女子; “black maiden”; holds a sword and a black jewel), he is sometimes described as de facto separate from them. Perhaps the fact his very name links him with another deity has something to do with that. Also, he is absent from the origin myth of the three maidens, who according to Hoki Naiden flew to Japan from India. According to Bernard Faure, it is possible his roles overlapped in part with Dakiniten’s own emissaries, the tengu Tonyūgyō (頓遊行; brings happiness) and Suyochisō (須臾馳走; brings longevity).

Dakiniten, “demon kings” and Amaterasu: the network of Taishakuten

Dakiniten (wikimedia commons)

Taishakuten’s connection with Dakiniten goes beyond the figure of Taishaku Shisa. The Mizōukyo (未曽有經) contains a myth according to which a fox once tricked Indra into accepting the animal as his master is recorded. It serves as an explanation for the notably fox-like Dakiniten’s elevated role in the royal ascension rite devised by Shingon priests (it was still performed in the 19th century, emperor Meiji was the first to abstain from it). In folk beliefs Taishakuten was also sometimes assigned the role of the “master of the foxes”, which normally belonged to her instead.

The link to these animals according to Bernard Faure might have reflected a more ambivalent perception of Taishakuten than usually expected. The other possible piece of evidence in favor of this interpretation is a poem which proclaims that he and Tsuno Daishi, the demonic manifestation of Ryōgen, look “like brothers”. The latter is a complex figure, but it will suffice to say here that historically he was sometimes perceived as a “demon king” (魔王, maō). On the other hand, the original holder of this title, the “Demon King of the Sixth Heaven” (in other words, Mara) was said to offer his blood to Taishakuten on “blood-shunning days” (地幅, chi-imbi). In practical terms, this meant a religious prohibition on the drawing of blood, acupuncture and moxibustion on a specific day, different each month. I need to stress here that even though figures such as Dakiniten and the “demon kings” obviously originated in the realm of demonology - respectively as a flesh-eating, vital essence-stealing demon and as the tempter of the Buddha - they eventually developed much more complex and nuanced characters. Therefore, it is not unexpected major deities appear in association with them. In the middle ages, even Amaterasu was frequently linked with them. Funnily enough, in contrast with Susanoo Amaterasu does have a connection to Taishakuten as well. Tenshō Daijin Kuketsu (天照大神口決; “Oral Transmission.Pertaining to the Great Goddess Amaterasu”) from 1328 states that she corresponds to him - but also to Bonten, Shōten (Ganesha), the kushōjin (倶生神; these would take a bit to explain), king Enma and Godō Daijin. Granted, another roughly contemporary treatise, Reikiki, instead proclaims Taishakuten, the “heavenly emperor” (tentei; just like in the later kōshin tradition) the “kami-body” of Toyouke, the outer shrine Ise deity. However, these matters ultimately go beyond the scope of this response. Stay tuned for my article about medieval Amaterasu to find out more!

Bibliography

Ryūichi Abe, Women and the “Heike Nōkyō”: the Dragon Princess, the Jewel and the Buddha

Bernard Faure, The Fluid Pantheon (Gods of Medieval Japan vol. 1)

Idem, Protectors and Predators (Gods of Medieval Japan vol. 2)

Idem, Rage and Ravage (Gods of Medieval Japan vol. 3)

Gerald Gromer, A Year in Seventeenth-Century Kyoto. Edo-Period Writings on Annual Ceremonies, Festivals, and Customs

Takuya Hino, The Daoist Facet of Kinpusen and Sugawara no Michizane Worship in the Dōken Shōnin Meidoki: A Translation of the Dōken Shōnin Meidoki

Nobumi Iyanaga, Medieval Shintō as a Form of 'Japanese Hinduism': An Attempt at Understanding Early Medieval Shintō

William Lindsey, Religion and the Good Life: Motivation, Myth, and Metaphor in a Tokugawa Female Lifestyle Guide

Fabio Rambelli, Before the First Buddha: Medieval Japanese Cosmogony and the Quest for the Primeval Kami

Hiroo Satō, Wrathful Deities and Saving Deities in: Fabio Rambelli and Mark Teeuwen (eds.), Buddhas and Kami in Japan. Honji Suijaku as a Combinatory Paradigm

Idem, The Emergence of Shinkoku (Land of the Gods) Ideology in Japan in: Henk Blezer and Mark Teeuwen (eds.), Challenging Paradigms. Buddhism and Nativism: Framing Identity Discourse in Buddhist Environments

David Weiss, The God Susanoo and Korea in Japan’s Cultural Memory: Ancient Myths and Modern Empire.

#susanoo #taishakuten #japanese esoteric buddhism #japanese mythology

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isa-ghost · 9 months

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My friend

I am gonna do it

WHAT ARE YOUR Q!PHIL HEADCANONS MY FRIEND

YESSSSSS

Here's Set 1 and Set 2

Now M O R E

He won't do it without prompting because he'll feel like an ass giving nobody else room to talk, but if someone got him on the topic of like. Exploration or flight or something, he could talk for hours. He's extremely knowledgeable and passionate about stuff like that, most times because he has centuries of experience

I don't want to diagnose cc!Phil or whatever bc I know he doesn't like when people do that, but to me his rp character is free reign. And as a psych major with ADHD who's focusing on the study of neurodivergent disorders: this man is hella ADHD coded. He's told too many personal stories that are relatable to me for me to be silent about it. I'm 🤝🏻 this crow man

In his case this isn't a nd trait but instead a crow one, but he experiences echolalia sometimes. Funny things or certain noises he hears just scratch an itch in his bird brain real good, he can't help but repeat it for a while

The way to Phil's heart is good food, fun to be around, and kicking ass. If you can tick those 3 things off for yourself, you're Phil Approved

He'll say he doesn't fall for peer pressure, and often times he's right. But on rare occasions someone like Fit or Etoiles can convince him to do smth he maybe wouldn't at first. It's easier to win him over when he's drunk

cc!Phil has talked abt how he gets a weird confidence boost when he's drunk as shit. That's real for q!Phil too. He could be staggering slurring speech drunk and still snipe something like 50 blocks away. It makes Fit and Etoiles want to kiss him about it

He has intentionally made almost his entire wardrobe varying shades of green, which he pairs with black, red & gold. He thinks it's funny to have a branded wardrobe like an anime character

Idr how canon dsmp is to q!Phil but he still has the friendship emerald charm hanging from his hat. Perhaps it's from the Antarctic Empire days instead. Idk, I just like the character design of Dangly Thing On Hat Brim too much to exclude it from his design in my head (I should rlly attempt to doodle my Phil beyond the random notebook ones I've done. Maybe I'll post those if asked idk)

Don't underestimate this man's ability to get dramatic. Tallulah ain't the only one in the family that can go hard

I wouldn't say he has a bad temper. He's very well-practiced at self-control. However, there are certain things that set him off so severely, he throws self-control out the window. Those things aren't worthy of him trying to be "the bigger person." They deserve their ass handed to them right here right now (see: The Codes pre-current lore).

In a similar vein, when the situation isn't one of those special Fuck This incidences, he still doesn't have a temper, but when he finally snaps, he SNAPS. Like on a The Polycule be like "mark me down as scared and horny" level of snap. When you get on the Angel of Death's last fucking nerve he let's you KNOW.

I'm self-projecting here: this fucking idiot man has a detrimental habit of insisting on handling stuff like anxiety alone. He hates when people see him without his composure. It's not even like an embarrassing thing, it's just very uncomfortable to him. So when a panic attack hits or he finally concedes and let's himself cry, it's alone. And sometimes that makes it worse. But even that doesn't make him change his mind. "Keep it together for the kids," right? :')

Having a stroke about thunderstorms is a reflex. Even on Quesadilla Island, the second he hears thunder he reaches for a trident like a dork.

He near-obsessively preens his wings because he doesn't want the Federation, or anyone else for that matter, getting ahold of his feathers when they shed. He doesn't know wtf they could do with those and he doesn't wanna find out.

And yet somehow Missa and Lullah both have a couple feathers that he's shed and he has no idea. Lullah wants to make a necklace out of them.

#qsmp #philza #qsmp philza #q!philza #philza headcanons #qphil headcanons

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pluckyredhead · 4 months

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☕️judd winick

Judd Winick has written some very very good comics and some very very bad comics and a lot of comics that fall somewhere in between. Which I guess is true of everyone and not that helpful of an answer, lol.

He is hands down the best writer Jason has ever had - Under the Red Hood and Lost Days are excellent. Superman/Shazam: First Thunder is wonderful. His Green Lantern is largely very good. His Green Arrow started out strong, and his Outsiders run had excellent characterization and introduced some fantastic characters (Grace, Anissa, Shift).

And I think his heart is really in the right place: he came into comics like "I am going to right about GAY RIGHTS and HIV AWARENESS and NO ONE CAN STOP ME." The way he did that often wound up being kind of preachy, or, in the case of his Green Lantern run and the Terry Berg storyline, centering the feelings of the straight hero rather than the gay supporting character, but the more I study the queer history of comics, the more I realize how genuinely boundary-pushing this stuff still was in the early 2000s. (And to be clear, I was reading most of this as it came out in the 2000s and going "Judd, everyone knows this"...but everyone didn't, and the comics industry really didn't.)

But over the course of the 2000s, his work got worse and worse, and with the exception of Lost Days, most of his writing from the back half of the decade is just unreadably bad. I don't know how much of that was him and how much of that was editorial interference (because editorial was infamously meddle-y during that era and Winick's later work was very much in line with the tone they seemed to be looking for across the board), but everything was just relentlessly violent and hateful and exploitative. I ragequit Green Arrow after the issue where Dr. Light waxes rhapsodic about how much he loves raping women, and picked it up again for the Ollie/Dinah wedding only to drop it again when Ollie called Dinah a slut and she hit him and this was treated as foreplay. His New 52 Catwoman was so bad that his Wikipedia article talks about it being bad. Like, bro, what happened???

Anyway, he seems to be doing very well with his graphic novels for kids and I'm happy for him, but I do still wish he'd come back for one really homoerotic Red Hood/Arsenal team up. Just channel that one issue of Outsiders where Dick beats Roy up to cure his PTSD and the bit in Lost Days where Jason calls himself daddy and really go to town, that's all I'm asking.

#comics

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Text

The Lost Princess Chapter 7

Jotun!Loki x plus size reader

When Jotunheim and Asgard are on the brink of war, only a marriage of convenience between the two worlds can unite them. The only problem is, Odin does not have a female heir, or does he?

Submit your own character!

Warnings: violence, arranged marriage, angst, enhanced!reader, swearing, slightly unhealthy relationship, Loki is an emotionally stunted person, age gap (I wrote reader as being in her early twenties but can be read as any age)

WC: 8.9k (I'm so sorry hahaha)

A/N: Thank you all for sticking with this series, I find it hard to write sometimes but I promise, the subsequent chapters will be shorter and coming out quicker. I love you all!! 💞💞

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Minors DNI

Chapter 7

Home Again

“Remove your hands from her or I will do it for you.” Loki’s voice was edged with something dangerous, the tip of a knife doused in poison. Y/N could feel his anger even from yards away but her own fury overpowered her fear of him and his temper. Thor faltered only a moment before his grip tightened on his sister’s shoulders, pulling her behind his bulky body in a vain attempt to shield her from the frost giant.

His glare deepened, his red eyes blazing with a barely contained fire. Adjusting the hold on the hilt of his long blade, his knuckles turn a pale blue with the force. “Let. Her. Go.” Each word is punctuated by a thundering step forward that shook the stone floor. He seemed far bigger than his usual 12 foot-self like this, with his bare chest puffed out, silvery lines of old scars and traditional markings shining in the lamplight. He would look terrifying to Y/N if she wasn’t blinded by the overwhelming feeling of betrayal.

A sour anger curled in her gut as he got closer and closer. The rest of the world faded to a white noise, her focus solely on her husband. She easily side-stepped her brother, fingers curling into fists so tight that her nails sliced through the delicate skin of her palms. Bright red blood dripped from between her knuckles.

The grey cobblestone beneath her bare feet melted, her body radiating a heat she had never felt before. The stone sizzled as her blood made contact with the floor, leaving behind dark stains on the now white hot ground. “You lying, manipulative piece of shit.” She barely caught the falter in his step, the hitch of his breath, as if he was wounded by her words. “You are a selfish worm who doesn’t deserve the air he breathes. Was everything a lie? Did you just make up that little sob story to get me into your bed willingly?”

The oxygen ignited around her, embers burning out before sparking to life again. The air crackled unstably, like the moment before a fire rages out of control. “Are you that pathetic that you have to rely on lies and trickery to force someone to marry you? To have a slave at your every beck and call to make you feel powerful?”

“You know nothing!” Shadows curled around the god. He had stopped in his tracks, blade plastered to his muscular thigh, almost as if he was preventing himself from doing her harm. The dark metal trembled against his blue skin.

“I know enough.” She snarled, also stopping. Wind whipped around her, sending sparks flying through the great halls. She was an inferno, waiting to blow.

They were an arms length apart and he towered over her but she refused to back down, refused to give even an inch as the feared prince glared down at her, his jaw clenched so tightly, she could see the muscles ticking. “All that talk about helping me, about teaching me. All of that, was that a lie too?” His eyes darted away, telling her all she needed to know.

Flames so hot they were blue licked up the bare skin of her legs, singing her husband’s shirt. It flaked away from her body but the fire replaced the silk. “I did what I had to.” The air shimmered with the heat, making her facade tremble before him.

Loki studied her, daring her to make the first move. They were on the precipice of something more but for the first time, Y/N was in control. She had a choice, turn her back and run or make him burn for what he did. She thought about what she had confided in him. Of her pain and fear, and he pretended to care. “I hate you.” Her voice was calm but brittle, on the edge of breaking with even the most gentle of touches.

“You do not hate me.” He urged, his own voice becoming softer as if to cradle her own. “You could never hate me.” The flickers began to die down around her as the fight began to leave her body. She was tired and her body craved his attention, needing to be held and comforted.

But when he took a step forward, she took two back. The tears that escaped her eyes, disappearing as soon as they touched her cheeks, evaporating instantly. “I can’t believe I trusted you.”

She did not fight the hand that closed around her bicep, carefully pulling her away from him and into the embrace of her brother. “I can’t believe I-I lo-“ Her words were cut off with a sob and buried her face into Thor’s chest who had silently followed her every step, her anger burning away like ash in the wind.

“If you know what is best for you, let us leave.” Thor spoke plainly, using one arm to lift her into him so that he could carry her, while the other held Mjölnir at the ready. For a moment, it seemed Loki would let them leave, the ruby of his eyes dulled and forlorn but then, in the blink of an eye, his sword was pressed into Thor’s sternum.

“You are mine! You have always been mine! How dare you disobey me! How dare you even think of leaving me!” But the god did not waver, his hold tightening around her as he prepared himself for battle. The leather of his armour easily gave way to the sharp tip of the blade.

“By order of Queen Frigg of Asgard, the allmother, your marriage is annulled and Princess Y/N must return to her place on Midgard.” Thor took several long strides backwards, Loki followed, his weapon at the ready. He would kill to get her back, the god could see that, but he would not give him the chance.

“You cannot take her from me!” He howled like a wild animal. And Y/N flinched.

“I was never yours, I will never be yours.” She spoke in a whisper but her husband heard her all the same. “Goodbye Loki.” As the light from the bifrost enclosed around the siblings, he lunged but a sudden wall of white flames forced him back as they burned his skin.

“No!”

The air was warm, almost biting against her freezing skin as the sun finally shone on them. The wind was a gentle breeze, shifting the fields of flowers like the waves of an ocean. But the beauty of the scene was broken by a scream.

Y/N slipped from her brother’s arms, releasing a howl from deep in her soul. The ground singed beneath her, burning with the rage and pain she felt. Thor could only watch, helpless as she crumbled before him, crawling at the dirt.

“Sister.” He called but she did not respond. Her sobs broke his heart and all he could do was kneel beside her and pull her back into his arms. She clutched onto his arm which was pressed against her chest as she leaned back against his front. His blue eyes shut, wishing he could take her pain.

By the time her chest hiccuped with quiet cries, the sun had begun its descent, casting a golden glow over the field. “I want to go home.” She whispered against the tanned skin of his forearm. Thor nodded against the side of her head and laid a quick kiss to her temple.

“Then let’s go home.”

Tony kept three photos on his desk. The first was of him and Pepper the day he proposed, the Paris skyline silhouetted behind them as their lips met in a kiss borderline of explicit. The second was of him and Peter, both hunched over his lab bench, focusing on some invention that they had later scrapped.

The final one was a side profile of a woman. Tony had found it in the small bedroom in Y/N’s home. She was younger, not yet burdened by the world. Her smile was easy, her eyes soft. She wore a lilac sundress, a flower tucked behind her ear.

It had been almost seven months since he had last seen her face, heard her voice. The search had been given up when Thor came back, reeking of alcohol and sadness. He had told him that he was too late, that she was already Loki’s and there was no way of getting her home.

She was gone, married to the monster responsible for the death of more than 80 people and the almost complete destruction of New York. He dreaded even thinking of what was happening to her, what he was making her do. Everything he had tried to get her home had failed.

Building a long range rocket to somehow reach Jotunheim. Trying to beat up a depressed Thor and forcing him to take Tony to her. Even trying to bribe Strange. All of it crashed and burned.

It was only last month, during a late night brainstorm that Pepper had convinced him to stop. “She made her choice Tony. She married him of her own free will.” It destroyed her to tell him that but he needed to hear it, he had to know it wasn’t his fault. He had broken down in her arms but he was ok, finally.

AC/DC, as usual, blasted far too loud through his home lab. His ears pounded with the high volume but he kept plotting along, his eyes focused on yet another suit design that FRIDAY had pulled up for him. Pepper was out at a charity gala that he couldn’t be bothered to attend so he could stay up as late as he wished, or rather, how late his body would allow given that the only thing in his system was a smoothie and many cups of coffee.

“Hey boss, Thor has just made a landing on Earth.” The AI pipped up. Tony sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“And why is that of any importance to me?” There was a beat of silence before the hologram before him disappeared and a video feed filled his vision. Thor was standing outside the gate, a woman held tightly in his arms. His armour looked strangely burnt, the silver metal blackened, his cape ripped.

“Is that?” Tony started, his eyes widening.

“Yes Boss, it’s Miss Y/N.” He stumbled to his feet, knocking over everything on the bench. His chest constricted with panic. She was alive, she was here. “Should I let them in, boss?” But he didn’t respond, lost in a blind haze. Tony ripped through the lab, his disbelief and returning hope driving him forward faster and faster until he was sprinting through his home, FRIDAY’s voice following close behind him.

“Y/N!” He consciously knew she couldn’t hear him but he had to call her name, to make this real. The front doors swung open before him like gates to a new world. The setting sun illuminated a pair of figures, forming a beautiful glow around their heads.

Her head lolled against the god’s shoulder and in the fading light, he saw her smile sadly at him. “Tony.” There was no grace to his movements as he collided with them, only pure relief. Her soft body fell into his embrace and he finally felt like he could breathe again.

“I’ve got you. You’ll never have to leave again.” There was movement in his peripheral vision as Thor backed away from them. Tony chanced a glance at the god who had brought her home. He looked devastated. He could only speculate about what had happened to them both for them to end up here. A sudden wetness forced his brown eyes back down to Y/N.

She was crying quietly, sobs that sounded strained like she had nothing left to give. Tony cupped the back of her head as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. “Keep her safe, there's work to be done.” And with that haunting message, Thor was gone.

“Let’s get you inside and put on some human clothes.” She chuckled tearfully against his chest and Tony smiled, feeling the way her own lips curved up in that grin he knew so well.

“I really want a cheeseburger right now.”

“Then let’s get as many greasy slabs of meat as you can stand and a milkshake too.” Her laugh became more joyous, a sound he missed so dearly. “Come on, you also have months of trash TV to catch up on. You won’t believe the shit you missed on the Real Housewives.” He helped her to her feet, noting the shirt she wore that was far too big to be her own. He resolved to burn it as soon as she took it off.

She hummed in agreement. “I miss my phone too, and coffee. Dear lord, I would kill for a coffee.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder, guiding her into the luxurious mansion, leading her away from the nightmare she had escaped.

“Now you’re speaking my language, kid. Coffee and a phone coming right up!”

Cold water washed over her as Y/N stood in the massive shower. She was still running terribly hot, her skin blazing like a bad fever. Emotions swirled in her mind, the anxiety, fear, and sadness. But what made it worse was that every time she closed her eyes, she saw Loki.

She wished her mind showed her his terrifying anger, the evil deeds he had done but instead she watched snap shots of their life together. The way he held her protectively while they slept, his huge arms winding around her soft body to keep her pressed against his muscular chest. The rare instances where he would chuckle under his breath at one of her outbursts. Even those times where he kissed her with a passion she had never encountered before.

Her chest ached with the simultaneous feeling of complete betrayal and the relief to be home with people who loved her. But seeing her ex-boss again, eating their favourite meal together, even watching menopausal white women yelling at each other felt different. Everything was just as she left it, but she had changed fundamentally.

Her fingers brushed the slim chain of her collar which she had not had the heart to take off yet. Everything else had been stripped away and she assumed destroyed in the most violent way possible by the eccentric billionaire but the necklace remained.

Shutting off the water, she dried almost immediately, the remaining droplets evaporating into the chill air of the bathroom. A small pile of clothes were left on the counter for her, suspiciously they weren’t new but in fact from her now abandoned apartment in the Avengers Tower.

She caught her reflection in the huge mirror on the otherside of the blindingly white bathroom. She was not the girl she was before. Her innocence and trust in the world was robbed from her, replaced with an anger and cynicism that would have disgusted her younger self. Her body was now covered in scars, the branding of the torture she endured both mentally and physically.

Y/N traced the lines of her body, now more rounded out than the last time she was on Earth but she did not feel a hatred for those extra pounds that sat on her curves. It meant that she had survived, and now, she would have the chance to live again.

As she quickly redressed, hiding her necklace under the large plaid Tony had given her. Sadly, she glanced at her left hand. Her ring had been the first thing taken from her.

Tony ripped it from her finger as soon as he saw it, tucking it into the pocket of his jeans with the promise that he would melt it down into nothing. She couldn’t admit to even herself that her hand felt wrong without the familiar weight of the bulky ring.

A sudden knock on the door shook her from her thoughts. “Did you drown in there?” Tony said jokingly but she could hear the worry in his voice.

“I’m fine boss, just getting dressed.” His sigh of relief was loud enough to hear through the large door. Double checking her appearance and making sure her scars were covered, Y/N opened the door, the ripped ruins of her husband’s shirt in her arms.

As soon as Tony made eye contact with the younger woman, his shoulders slumped. “C’mon kid, let’s get you downstairs, there are some people that want to see you.” The silk was taken from her grasp with a quick yank and tucked behind his back.

Y/N’s heart rate spiked. The last time she was surrounded by people was her wedding. She had been isolated for months, only seeing Loki or his father on occasion. But still she nodded, painting a strained smile on her face to appease her mentor. He had told her of the effort and pain the whole team went through to find her again, she had to see them.

He took her arm in a friendly gesture. Y/N froze up. Suddenly her belly was filled with fear as bile rose in her throat. They marched side by side to the main sitting room where she picked up overlapping murmuring of voices. Each step brought back memories of her biological father pulling her forward to a fate she agreed to but did not want.

She heard the clack of her heels, felt the weight of the tiara on her head, heard the swoosh of the beads Frigg had given her, with each step. Her fingers curled tightly around Tony’s bicep causing him to hiss. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Logically, she knew these people would never hurt her but yet, she was still terrified. “Hey hey, we don’t have to do this now.” Tony had stopped walking only a few feet from the entryway to the large room and turned to face her.

Y/N shook her head. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” But her words were hollow.

He glanced at her skeptically. “Ok- how about if you need to tap out, say pineapple. It’s my safe word.” That made her giggle, easing the building pressure in her chest.

“Could you get any more basic?” She teased. Taking in a deep breath, she stepped forward once more, entering a window to her past.

The Avengers looked like they had been trapped in time until she returned. There were small differences, like Bucky’s short hair and Steve’s beard but all in all, they looked just as she remembered them. It felt like a dream, an image her mind had conjured up as some sort of unconscious protection from the cruel reality she had been living in.

Her eyes locked with Wanda’s grey ones. The witch gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. This caused the others to look around, searching for the source of her shock. “Y/N!” She threw herself at said woman, enveloping her in the warmest, tightest hug Y/N had ever experienced.

That seemed to break the others from their trance. They swarmed her like ants, each attempting to embrace her but stopped by the arms of another team member. Even as her brain was thrumming with panic, she laughed. Those feelings were shoved down as far as they would go, inevitably to be dealt with when she woke up from her nightmares.

She could barely catch individual words as they spoke over each other, eager to hear of her ordeal. There was only one that hung back. Steve looked like he was about to cry, his blue eyes shone with tears he couldn't hide as he crumpled onto the couch behind him.

Instantly, the way was cleared for Y/N. “Steve.” She whispered. He wouldn't look at her. She knew he must've been wracked with guilt, blaming himself for what happened to her like the noble and slightly foolish man he was. Y/N repeated his name, drawing closer to the soldier, her body trembling.

His broad shoulders shook with silent sobs, becoming more hysterical the closer she got. “I-I can't believe this. You're not here.” The others had gone silent, glancing at each other with looks of worry. They knew Steve had taken her disappearance hard but they didn't think it was this bad.

“I'm here. I'm home.” She fell to her knees before him, dipping her head so she could catch a glimpse of his eyes. “I'm safe.” Tentatively, he reached for her, the tips of his fingers just barely touching her full cheek. As soon as he made contact with her hot skin, something snapped in his mind.

Strong arms wrapped so tightly around her, her ribs creaked with the force. But it didn't hurt. “I've got you.” Tears soaked into her shirt from where he tucked his face against her neck.

Y/N expected that usual warm feeling to settle on her chest from whenever Steve touched her, the butterflies in her stomach and dare she say it but the spark of arousal between her legs. And yet, as she held him more intimately than ever before, emotions flying, she felt nothing.

Well, she did feel sad, she chose to marry Loki and put all of her friends through this. She had a fondness for Steve she knew would never dissipate but it seemed now there was an icy grip on her heart, holding all of her affections back. “Oh Stevie. I'm so sorry.”

The room grew quiet. They had all waited for this moment for so long and yet there was a wrongness to it that no one could identify. Y/N was different. Bucky clocked onto it first, seeing how dull her eyes were, how guarded her body language. She was holding back, fearful of something or someone. Or more likely, a whole room full of people.

“Let's give them some space.” He grabbed Sam by the shoulder as the younger man went to swoop in for another hug, “I'm sure we'll all get our fair share of Y/N time now that she's home.” A grateful look confirmed his suspicions. He nodded as he led the others away.

She watched them leave. He knew that look, it was the same way that he used to look at the world when he first escaped HYDRA. She was questioning if what she was seeing was really real or just some dream. Just as he turned to exit, Y/N shifted, causing her shirt to lift over her hip, exposing a small sliver of skin but it was more than enough to reveal the puckered flesh of a scar, one that looked painful and deep.

Their eyes met and it was like looking in a mirror, a broken and bloody mirror. With a silent promise to himself to check in on her later, Bucky shut the door softly behind him.

“It's just us now Stevie, you don't have to worry any more.” Her knees were getting sore from kneeling on the hardwood floor but Steve wasn't letting go anytime soon so she just resolved to sit there and wait for him to let go.

“I thought you were gone forever. And it was my fault.” He felt so small in her arms, so weak. He was crumbling before her like a sandcastle caught in the incoming tide.

Y/N shook her head. “No Steve it isn't, I promise you that.” And no more could be said. He would insist he was at fault, and she would reassure him that it wasn't the case as more and more shame built up in her gut. So they stayed quiet, holding each other on the floor, both wishing they could turn back the clock.

“Little star, it’s time to wake up.” A smooth voice crooned. A cold hand cupped her full cheek, encouraging her to wake from the light slumber she found herself in. She smiled but quickly stamped it out, keeping her eyes firmly shut. “You cannot sleep forever, my star.”

“I’m not asleep.” Her voice was filled with laughter just waiting to bubble out.

“Oh really?” He hummed. “Then what are you? Because you look asleep to me.” His voice grew closer and she could feel his warm breath against the cup of her ear.

“I've been cursed and only you can break the spell.” Even with her eyes closed, she knew he was smiling in that wicked way he always did before he lathered her with his attention.

“And how do you propose I do that?” He asked like he didn't already know the answer. His fingers trailed down from her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw, down the softness of her chin, then following the lines of her neck until he reached her collarbone which had been exposed by the t-shirt she wore.

Her breath hitched the lower he went, goosebumps following in his wake. “True love's kiss.” She felt him lean closer, his slim chest pressing against her left shoulder.

His lips were cold, as they usually were, but they were the softest things she ever felt. The kiss was gentle at first, merely a brush of his lips against hers but soon, he rested more of his weight on top of her, his hunger for increasing exponentially.

But far too soon, he pulled away and her eyes fluttered open. “It's time to go, my star.” She frowned.

“But I don't want to go, I never want to leave your side.” Black hair hung over them like a curtain, shielding their faces from the rest of the world. She knew he didn't want to leave, but he had to, just like how she had to go home before her mother got too worried.

“I know my darling but one day, one day we will be together forever.” His green eyes shone with love as he looked down upon her.

“Do you promise?”

“Always.”

Y/N jolted awake, gasping for air like she had been drowning. These dreams were becoming more vivid as if she were revisiting a memory that had only occurred the day before. The boy had been a fixture of both her childhood and teen days, a comforting presence that only a first love could be.

“Little fucking star.” She growled, throwing the sheets from her body and slipping from the too soft bed Tony had provided her that she could never find rest in. Even with the air conditioning on full blast and sleeping naked, Y/N felt too hot, too uncomfortable.

She knew that her body was used to the freezing temperatures of Jotunheim and having a living ice cube sleep beside her but she didn't want to admit that out loud. It would be like admitting that she actually cared for the man that ripped her life apart and destroyed any future hope for an actually healthy relationship.

Darkness still enveloped the wooded area around the mansion, it must have been still early morning. Haphazardly, she grabbed coverup, concealing her naked body, and ventured out into the house, in search of something to occupy her mind.

It had been just over a week since Thor returned her to Earth. And to say it had been strange would be an incredible understatement. No more than three other people would be in a room with her, even movie nights and dinners were split up so she wasn't overwhelmed. Everyone walked on eggshells around her, consumed by their own guilt and frightened by what, if anything, would trigger her.

The only person that had actually treated her normally was Bucky and she supposed that was because he had gone through something similar. Well not the being forced to marry a god that tried to start a war in order to get revenge against his previous adoptive father, but the being kidnapped and experimented on part of it.

And then there was the person she had been avoiding for the six days she had been there, Steve. It was hard to look him in the eye and see that undying love he held for her while her own heart was confused and broken simultaneously.

The house was thankfully silent as Y/N walked along, mindlessly wandering as she got lost in her own thoughts. Most of the Avengers had decided to temporarily stay with the Starks in an effort to provide some sort of normality for her. Only Clint, Bruce and Peter returned to their own homes, leaving the mansion still quite full.

“It's a bit late for a midnight snack.”

“Holy shit!” Y/N jumped at the sound of another voice interrupting her thoughts. Bucky sat at the counter, dressed in a red henley and sweatpants, his short hair still mussed from sleep, sipping a coffee that had gone cold a while ago.

He slyly smiled at her from behind his mug. “Don't scare me like that, asshole.” She grumbled but her scolding only served to make his eyes light up in amusement. Padding over to the pantry, Y/N began searching for something. She didn't know what she wanted but it was so nice to have that choice of just looking at a shelf full of food while she decided what to eat.

“You're the one stalking around a dark house in the middle of the night, I'm just having a coffee. Can't sleep?” She hummed.

“I'm thinking mac and cheese. Do you want some?” She knew she was being obvious with her avoidance of the question but hopefully the super soldier would take the hint and just drop it.

But Bucky was nothing short of persistent. With the silent steps of a weathered assassin, he cautiously approached her. “Go sit, I'll cook it for you.”

“No!” She snapped and suddenly the air in the room got ten degrees hotter. Bucky stepped back preparing for another outburst, but her shoulders fell, and so did the temperature. Her right hand cupped her cheek in a self-soothing manner. “I'm sorry. I just, I need to do this myself.”

“I know. How about I make us some hot chocolate to go with it?” Taking his chance, Bucky moved forward once more, his metal hand coming to rest on her bicep in a friendly touch.

“Y-yes thank you.” Her voice was shaky but her hands were steady, he would take that as a win. With a kiss pressed to her temple that made her release a shuddering breath, he left her to cook her mac and cheese as he started some hot chocolate. Maybe tomorrow she would open up some more.

“Hey Wanda?” The TV played a rerun of an old sitcom the witch was fond of, the volume down low so as to not wake Vis, who was somehow asleep. Her head lolled back on the couch and saw Y/N standing nervously in the doorway.

Her face was illuminated by the flashing lights of the show. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Wanda could feel how conflicted her mind was, how lost and broken she felt. It was hard not to. Sadness oozed from the demigod like oil spilling into the ocean. “I need help.”

The testing room for Tony's suits was surprisingly empty given how many projects he was working on at once. Already, FRIDAY had a fire safety protocol in place plus a protective shield for Wanda if Y/N happened to go nuclear. “I'm sorry, what do you want me to do?” The red haired woman asked in disbelief.

“I want you to get into my head and find out how exactly my powers work. Lo- he tried to help me control them but I passed out whenever we trained. I need more control.” Her brow was set with determination. “So come on, slap my brain around a bit. It'll really help me out.”

Appalled, Wanda's mouth hung open in shock. “Y/N, that's not going to help. I think it might just make this whole thing worse.” But it seemed, she wouldn't listen to reason.

“I don't know what I'm capable of or even what could set me off. I need to find that trigger before I hurt someone. Please Wanda.” She crossed her arms over her slim chest.

But as she looked at the other woman, feeling her pain and her terror, she relented. “Fine, but I get to stop at any time for any reason. Deal?” Y/N's face lit up and Wanda was suddenly struck by the thought that she hadn't really seen her smile like this since before she disappeared.

“Thank you! Thank you!” She almost jumped for joy and Wanda watched as a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. How heavy had this burden been and why would she want to carry it alone. Y/N scuttled off to the center of the room, stripping off the oversized long-sleeve shirt and leggings she wore, leaving her in a sports bra and panties.

Catching Wanda's curious gaze, she shrugged. “I don't want to burn up my clothes and have to walk back to my room naked.”

“Fair.” She agreed. The scars were obvious now, standing out like tattoos against her skin. Wanda was fascinated by the morbid beauty of the largest of them. “So how do you want me to do this?”

“Just get in there and poke around, see what sticks.” Red mist curled around her head as she steeled herself for the inevitable onslaught of emotion.

An older man laughing through tears of sleep deprivation as he leaned against her.

Pain, knives slicing into her skin.

Blinding white and cold, the coldness of a hand as he slid a heavy ring on her finger.

Warmth as strong arms encircle her.

The taste of foreign fruit exploding on her tongue.

Tones of blue and red, lips coming closer to her own.

The sound of his amusement.

The smell of his hair.

Suddenly, all of it disappeared with a shocked gasp. Y/N shakily opened her eyes to see the devastation before her. The now previously white walls of the room were black with char, smoke curling from beneath her feet. Wanda still stood behind a protective shield but her face was coloured with terror.

“We have so much fucking work to do.”

“It's not always nightmares.” A lone lamp in the corner of the living room was the only source of light for the pair, casting their faces in soft shadows. Bucky looked at Y/N from over his small plate of leftovers, noodles hanging from his lips as he took in what she said. “I dream of a boy I used to know sometimes.”

He quickly slurped up the rest of his food and put his plate to the side, shrugging. “I sometimes dream about Dot but they are of the damp variety if you know what I mean.” With a disgusted look on her face, Y/N slapped his arm but Bucky could see the way her mouth turned up in a shy smile.

“Shut up Barnes! I don't want to hear about your centuries old conquests!” He chuckled along with her.

“It was barely a century ago and besides who are you to judge, virgin.” He stuck his tongue out at her childishly which made her laugh even more.

Their midnight chats had become a nightly occurrence, a colliding of two alike souls who were destined to drift apart once more like passing galaxies. She spent her days training, learning what she was truly capable of and her nights were for soothing her hurt.

Bucky was of two minds about the whole thing. He knew that he could help Y/N in a way that none of the others could but it broke his heart to see his best friend so hurt. No one knew why she had been avoiding Steve, well maybe Wanda did but there was no way she was going to say.

Steve needed to talk to her, to touch her and make sure she was real but whenever Y/N saw him, she would leave the room and isolate until it was time for her and Bucky to have their little chats. “I just keep dreaming about him. I don't remember his name or really what he looked like, but I know that he made me happy.”

She looked wistfully into the darkness as if trying to conjure him to appear before her. “It could be your mind trying to comfort itself, creating someone to deal with all the trauma you went through.”

Her brows furrowed. “But it feels so real, he felt so real.” Curling her shapely legs beneath her, Y/N leaned against the back of the couch, her eyes shifting upwards to the ceiling. This happened a lot, she would drown in her own mind, overwhelmed by the waves of emotion.

“He might have been, a long time ago. But there is someone who is real that could help you.”

“Bucky-” Her gaze flicked down to him.

“No listen. Steve adores you and he cares for you in a way that I have never seen him care for someone before. You two need to hash out what ever the fuck has been going on.” His words carry a weight that Y/N already felt on her chest. “Let him help you.”

Taking in a deep breath, she tried to find the words to explain to him that she couldn't, when her breath caught in her throat. Emerging from the shadows, Steve loomed over the pair. Evidently, he had been working out, he donned his usual track pants and white t-shirt that was always a size too small. Sweat still glistened on his forehead, making his blond hair appear even darker.

Her head snapped to the former Winter Soldier, leveling him with a glare that sent a shot of fear down his spine. In that moment, he saw her become the goddess they all logically knew her to be, terrifying and beautiful. But her anger was controlled, measured. She knew he had told Steve to come up during their talk and he knew that she would get her revenge one way or another.

“You two need to talk. I'll see you in the morning.” Bucky began to reach out to touch her shoulder in a friendly gesture but faltered when he caught the flash of betrayal in her eyes.

Steve quickly took his place on the couch, his blue eyes boring into her soul. Guilt ignited in her veins. At first she avoided him because she was confused, her feelings were jumbled and running wild. But now, after having her brain turned into soup and put back together again by Wanda, she knew why.

“You, um you're looking a lot better.”

“Thank you. I think I just needed some junk food and TV.” She huffed nervously. Every fibre of her body was telling her to run but she forced herself to stay, she owed him that. Reaching down, she fished her now cold cup of tea from the floor and cupped the ceramic gently between her palms.

You're mine, little one. Heat soon flowed between her skin and the cup, quickly heating it back up. Steve looked at her in fascination as the tea began to steam. “Wow.”

She chuckled and curled into herself even more. “Pretty wild right?” He gave her that dazzling smile she knew so well, the one that made people around the country swoon when they saw it, his fake smile.

“Yeah, it's a neat trick.” She cringed at the insincere tone of his voice. Steve readjusted himself, his knees spreading wide so he could bend forward and plant his elbows onto his strong thighs. His fingers intertwined beneath his nose in a pose that screamed dominance. “So.”

“So?” He exhaled harshly through his nose.

“You've been avoiding me. No, don't try to argue, you have. I've spent days trying to figure out what I did wrong and I couldn't figure out what it was. But then, I overheard you and Wanda training.” Her heart dropped. She knew what conversation he was talking about.

“Y/N, I think we seriously need to talk about what your powers are tied to.” Confused, she glanced over at the witch and in the process, extinguished the flame floating freely before her.

“What do you mean?” She asked. Wanda sighed deeply from her place on the small bench they had dragged into the testing room. Her red hair hung heavily around her face, framing the devastating expression she was sporting.

“Throughout everything, all your thoughts, your feelings, your fears, your hopes, they are tied to one person.” Her voice was soft like she was breaking bad news to Y/N.

“Steve?”

“What? No. Loki you idiot!”

Not convinced, Y/N shook her head. “No, I hate him, I want nothing to do with that piece of shit!” But her words held no conviction. Patting the spot beside her, Wanda gestured for the other woman to sit down with her.

“You say that but I have seen your mind. You may not have liked him at first, but you have grown to care for him. Your souls are intertwined like you have loved each other for decades. No matter what has happened, you do lo-”

“Shut up.” She snarled, suddenly turning on her friend. “You don't know what he did to me, what he caused. He is a monster, nothing more.”

“I have seen him through your eyes! No matter how much you tell yourself that you despise him, it isn't true. I hate this as much as you do but it's a fact. You're in love with him.” There was a clatter from the opposite end of the room, causing both women to whip their heads around but there was nothing there.

Tentatively, Wanda faced Y/N again. “And he loves you. In some twisted, sick way, he needs you more than anything in this universe.” Fat tears streamed down her full cheeks as Wanda took her by the hands. “You need to admit that, and then we can move on.”

“Ok, fine.”

“You're avoiding me because he tricked you into falling in love with him!” The rage came swiftly like a summer storm. “He took you from us, from me! He forced you to marry him! And you're in love with him?!”

But her anger was the tsunami, not the rain. “You know what, fuck you Rogers. You don't know what I've been through and you certainly can't judge me for doing what I had to in order to survive.”

“You need physiological help Y/N! You're obviously suffering from Stockholm Syndrome! I can help you! I can make it better!” He attempted to reach for her but she jerked away. His eyes flashed with pain at her rejection but she truly could not give less of a shit.

“Oh and what do you get out of this? You fix me and then what, I fall at your feet and offer to blow you as a thank you?” A dark pink flush spread across his cheeks and Y/N scoffed. She rose from her seat, slamming her mug of tea back down onto the coffee table in front of them. “That's what I thought. Don't speak to me again unless you're ready to actually fucking listen to me instead of pretending to be my hero. And tell Bucky that he can go fuck himself.”

Smoke rose from the empty cup, the only thing remaining was burnt tea leaves.

“I need to talk to my brother.”

“That's a weird way to say 'good morning my favourite human. Would you do me the honour of using your insanely large brains and good looks to contact my idiot brother?'” Tony didn't even bother to look up from his work as he answered but when Y/N didn't reply, he lifted his head.

She stood in the entryway to his lab, her expression that of pure hatred. He could see the heat around her, making the hardwood beneath her feet warp and curl from the flames within her. Her eyes were pure white, milky like those of a corpse. “My brother. Now.”

He had seen that look before, but it had been four years ago, looking into the eyes of a man that wanted to kill him and his entire species. How far had Loki sunk his claws into her?

“Ok ok just keep your pants on, this could take a minute.” That seemed to appease her as slowly, the colour returned to her irises almost like dye bleeding through white fabric. Her shoulders dropped and she staggered forward collapsing into a chair by his work bench. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Not really.” Came her response.

“Does it have something to do with the midnight rendezvous you've been having with the Manchurian Candidate? Or the mind melding with our wicked witch?” Y/N groaned and slipped from the chair, practically melting into the cool concrete of the floor.

“Sort of. It's mostly Steve though.” Tony glanced at her over the line of code he was writing so that Thor could be alerted. “He just- ugh I hate men!”

“You can't have your big brother beat him up. No matter how much I dislike the Golden Boy, he's useful and the press like him, we don't need him dead.”

Y/N sat up onto her elbows. The white streak of hair that she left out of her usual hair styles, falling perfectly over the left side of her face. “Please, I don't want to talk about it right now.”

“Riiight. Do you need your timeout room until point break gets here?”

“Maybe a little bit.” He smiles kindly, as a father would to their child and nods his head towards the door diagonal to him.

“Go on, I'll have FRIDAY let you know when I get through to him.” With a groan, she pulled herself to her feet, staggering only once before she righted herself and slipped into the testing room.

Tony turned back to his code but was interrupted once more as Y/N poked her head out from behind the door. “I know I don't say it enough, but thank you.”

“Go blow something up and stop bothering me.” He said dismissively but she heard the waiver of his voice.

“Whatever you say, old man.”

The sound of small explosions soon became a white noise. The rumbling under his feet turned them numb but Tony didn't want to complain. He had seen her power, spying on her training with Wanda on occasion, only to be struck by what he had seen.

Fire swirled around her like wind, a rainbow of reds and blue and whites. Her face was always at peace, her arms moving gracefully as she conducted an orchestra of destruction. But when she was mad, she really got mad.

The flames became huge waves that would crash over her. Blind with rage, she would let it consume her whole until she collapsed in a heap. And today, seemed like one of those days.

Absent-mindedly, Tony switched on the fire suppression system for when the room got too hot and then returned to his work. The message had been sent out, now all he had to do was wait.

“Where's Y/N? Did something happen? Is she ok?” The lights in the lab had brightened with the rising sun, but as usual, Tony was too absorbed in his own head to realise how much time had passed. The sudden panicked voice broke him from his thoughts.

He went to answer the frazzled god who stood in the slightly damaged doorway but found his throat was bone dry. He really needed to drink more water. So instead, he gestured vaguely to the training room and Thor took off. His huge bulk bumped into several tables, knocking a few important projects to the floor. He ignored Tony's hoarse shouts of protest in favour of almost ripping the door from its hinges to get to his sister.

But evidently, there was no need to panic. Y/N was sitting on the floor in the middle of the white room, covered in a white foam. Her expression was both one of absolute glee and extreme annoyance. “He could have just sprayed water on me and not this shit.”

Thor's head dropped forward in relief. “That is not very dignified for a princess.”

“Suck my royal ass.” She retorted. She held her hand out and her brother wasted no time pulling her to her feet and into a tight hug.

“I'm glad you're alright, sister. Tony's message worried me.” Slowly, his arms unwound from her, letting her take a step back so their eyes could meet.

“I need to talk to you about something that none of the others would understand.” The strained tone behind her words, immediately sobered his mood.

“Very well, get cleaned up and I will take you somewhere private.”

As it turns out, somewhere private was Thor's small cabin in Norway that had been set up for him a month after his sister's marriage. Apparently, he had gone mad with grief, falling into bad habits that put the other Avengers at risk. So they created a home for him in the wilderness where he could indulge without hurting others.

It was small, probably far too small for someone of his incredible stature, especially with all the little trinkets scattered around and framed photos on the walls. There were some generic stock photos of flowers or beaches but there were also candid shots of their friends, a gorgeous one of Jane in her lab, and a copy of the photo of Y/N that Tony had on his desk.

“I hope this is far enough away for you to be comfortable.” Thor said nervously, his anxiety spiked at what she could need from him.

“Thor, we could have just gone to my room, but I appreciate the effort.” She chuckled as she ran her fingers over the photo of her brother very obviously drunk with his arms wrapped around Peter and an inebriated Sam. “You've got a lot of pictures here.”

“Yes! Cameras are such a magnificent invention, certainly better than sitting for portraits for hours on end as a child.” Y/N glanced back at her brother from over her shoulder.

“Do you have any portraits here? I bet you were such a cute kid.” He visibly lit up. With ginger steps, he scooted around her and walked further into the cabin.

He disappeared into what she presumed was the bedroom at the back of the house. There was a brief moment of silence and then a crash, followed by some truly explicit curses. Thor soon emerged with a small box in one hand and a red splotch on his forehead which he was currently rubbing with his free palm.

“I stole these from mother but I guess she knew because she gave me more.” He squeezed into one of the small kitchen chairs. Y/N had the distinct thought that he looked like an adult trying to sit in a child's seat. He laid the box down in front of him and carefully lifted the ornate lid, letting Y/N catch a brief glimpse of the collection of papers inside.

Without needing to be told, she sat opposite him, elbows on the table, hands folded beneath her soft jaw in waiting. The first he pulled out was a simple sketch of Frigg. She looked far younger than Y/N remembered her. She was gazing out a window, wind blowing through her loose hair. “She's beautiful.”

“Indeed, our mother is a handsome woman.” He simply commented and moved on quickly. The next was of him as a baby, she could tell because of the shock of blond hair atop his head and huge blue eyes. He was being held by his mother as Odin stood proudly next to them, his armour gleaming even through the medium of paints.

Many photos followed after, showing his slow progression of growing up, but as he was in the middle of a story about the first time he held a sword (at the ripe old age of three), Y/N froze, her entire body going stock still. “Who is this?”

Thor stood beside another boy, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. He was taller than the other but they looked to be similar in age, around their mid teens. He was smiling broadly while the boy under his arm kept a straight face. His black hair was slicked back, away from his face, highlighting the high cheek bones that would emerge with puberty and his shocking green eyes. It was the boy from her dreams.

Before Thor could answer, she flipped the small portrait over to read the inscription left in the corner of the canvas, written in Frigg's hand. Thor and my little star.

“Oh, I didn't realise that was in here.” He was avoiding the question.

“I-I've been dreaming about this boy. I knew him a long time ago, before my mother died.”

“Are you positive that it's the same boy in your dreams?” He implored, his jaw set and brow furrowed.

“Of course I am! I've been seeing him almost every night and whenever Wanda got into my head.” The air seemed to freeze with tension, and then shattered as a sudden epiphany came over the older god.

“Sister, it seems you have known Loki for far longer than any of us have realised.” Her gaze dropped back down to the image in her hands, focusing on the boy as her fingers unconsciously reached for the necklace hidden beneath her shirt.

“What in the actual fuck?”

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tokkishouse · 2 years

Note

If requests are closed ignore this but can you do xiao x reader?

The reader is an adeptus as well one xiao wasnt aware existed till the chasm incident when he saw a small crystal fly coming towards him before zhongli saved him.

How would he react and fall for the reader?

Fluff please? I've read too much angst

Requests are not closed! I was a little confused about what specifically you were looking for so if I need to adjust, by all means, let me know ❤️ I tried to make this fluffy but I think. I made it too solemn. Also, thank you all for 300+ followers. I'm so glad you all enjoy my writing. It really motivates me to keep at it 😊

(Sfw) Falling for You

Characters: Xiao x GN!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for the 2.7 archon quest, reader is an adeptus with a pyro vision, it's fluffy?? To an extent? A bit of a somber end but no one necessarily dies

WC: 1.6k Words

Check out Pt. 2 Here! (nsfw)

Xiao felt his body grow weaker as he fell deeper down into The Chasm, the panicked voices of his allies but a distant sound. He had put all his energy and power into sending them back home-- he had done his duty faithfully. There was no need to feel regret or fear for the inevitable.

Just as his eyes slowly fall shut, a small red crystal fly flutters towards him. Only for a moment, a glimpse of life before his eyes. Before he can focus too hard, a glimmer of yellow shines, and geo-energy shoots right at him. Warmth encases him and as he closes his eyes, the crystal fly disappears.

Soon after, he appears outside The Chasm with the others, who hurriedly run over to check on him. His mind is racing and the residual energy is buzzing off of him. The words of concern from his allies fall on deaf ears-- all he could focus on was what he saw as he was falling.

That crystal fly...why is its energy so familiar...

✦✧✦✧

The next time Xiao feels that familiar energy, he's out patrolling the beaches near Wangshu Inn. One of the renters at the inn mentioned a hilichurl camp that was giving trouble to passersby and he wanted to investigate for himself. When he arrived, he saw you standing there, back facing towards him, in the center of what he can assume is the remains of the camp.

Smoke and water vapor rise around you and the smell of burnt wood and flesh floods his nostrils. You made quick work of the camp, as there was barely a mask left behind in the wreckage.

"I'm glad to see you are able to be up and moving fairly quickly, Alatus."

Xiao tensed a little-- you never turned around and yet you knew who was behind you.

"I'm an adeptus. It is not easy to take me down," he replies, tightening the grip on his spear. "Who are you?"

You finally look back at him, wearing a smile that does not quite reach your eyes.

"I am Y/N. Nice to meet you."

Xiao's breath hitches as he meets your eyes. There are speckles of red in your iris, reminding him of embers flittering off a flame. The longer he holds eye contact with you, the more intense the feeling of his heartbeat gets. It's loud and rumbles like thunder. He was sure there were no other adepti, and he definitely did not sense your presence in the chasm before. So how...

"I'm quite new actually. Only a few hundred years old-- nothing compared to your age I'd imagine," your voice pierces through his head, breaking him out of his thoughts. "I signed a contract with Morax and was spending my time in Natlan. However, when he told me what you were up to, I made my way back here."

Xiao studies your face, looking for any trace of deception. But your smile, while ingenuine, revealed no such thing.

"Then, you were the crystal fly?" He questions, and you nod, your smile widening.

"Ding ding ding-- we have a winner! I help Morax figure out where you were so he could rescue you. Although, I'm sure he would've found you all on his own eventually. He is the Geo Archon."

You pull out a pocketwatch from your bag, clicking your tongue when you see the time.

"It appears that I'm running behind on another errand. You'll have to forgive me, Alatus," you apologize, putting the pocket watch away. Just as you're about to run off, he stops you.

"Xiao. Call me Xiao," he insists. "That name carries memories and a history that is no longer relevant."

You look back at him, eyes scanning over his features properly. After a bit, the warmth from your smile reaches your eyes, and you nod.

"I'll see you around, Xiao."

✦✧✦✧

You and Xiao meet up more after that day. At first, you'd make bi-weekly trips to Wangshuu Inn, relaxing on the rooftop under the shining moon with Xiao as you recount your adventures to him. You remind him of Ganyu or even Yanfei, with you all having closer proximity to humans and even the mannerisms you've managed to adopt.

On one particular evening, you both exchange your favorite meals: he lets you try almond tofu, and you offer him a delicacy from Natlan. Neither dishes are to the other's taste, and you laugh it off as a result of "different environments." Nonetheless, you always bring him something to try and he does grow fond of the spicy and sweet candies that come from the land of pyro, along with the adeptus that guards the nation.

It wasn't until you had been coming for about 4 months that the yaksha finally realized his feelings for you. It was during the Lantern Rite Festival-- everyone was coming together to celebrate the memories of those who had passed. The streets were bustling with life and joy-- a sight that he knew you would not want to miss

Currently, Xiao is walking around the streets, searching for you. You promised that you would be there to release a lantern with him.

"Where are they?" He ponders to himself as he watches festivalgoers walk past and interact with the merchants.

A sudden warmth fills his chest, startling him a bit. He looks up and sees you standing on the roof of one of the buildings, holding a lantern. You flash him a grin and leap off. Catch me if you can, your actions read. Xiao grunts and he leaps after you, not wasting time.

You two race across the city toward the harbor, jumping over congested roads and excited patrons. It's not long before you land at the edge of the dock, Xiao landing right behind you.

"You're a tad too slow, Alatus," you tease, turning to face the yaksha. He grunts, looking away.

"You had a head start."

"Is that what we're going with? The 'head start' excuse?" You laugh, and Xiao is reminded of the bells that ring as merchants push their carts down the streets, selling their wares. A familiar and welcoming sound.

"You already have a lantern," he comments, deciding the change the subject.

You look down at the object in your hand, the heat from the candle inside warming your palms. It was carefully crafted, with a fire-breathing dragon painted outside. The way the flames danced inside made it look like the dragon's fire was alive and moving.

His, on the other hand, had a large peng bird painted on the outside, its wings spread to wrap around lantern. As the fire danced, it gave off the illusion of the wings flapping.

"Shall we release them together?" You ask, and he nods, stepping closer to the edge of the harbor.

You both stand there, waiting for the people in the city to release their lanterns first. You enjoy the environment around you-- a cool sea breeze blows past and you can hear the soft creaking of the nearby boats. The waves crash against the harbor walls and if you listen really closely, you can hear the slow breathing of you and Xiao as you stare out to the sea.

"You confuse me," Xiao states, earning an amused look from you.

"Oh? How so?"

He swallows thickly, his gaze focused on the ground and his mind racing as he searches for the right words to say. How does he explain the unnatural feelings he's felt all this time.

"You leave me wanting to see you daily. The time spent away from you has me feeling more irritable than usual. When you are here, it's like my karmic debt doesn't exist and I am allowed to simply be," he starts, slowly looking up to meet your gaze.

"I find needless chatter about everyday occurrences needless, and yet every time you're near I wish to hear you speak more. My head hurts and my chest aches, but they pain me more when you're gone...How does that work? Is it an adeptus ability you have trained to weaken me?"

You stare at him, gaze unwavering. It's overwhelming-- it's suffocating. You don't react or respond right away, and it's making Xiao feel like you're tearing everything he said apart, piece by piece. Why won't you look away? Why do you keep staring at me with such firey passion? Why oh why do I still want you to look on, to only keep your eyes on me?

"Alatus."

He gasps at your sudden proximity and nearly stumbles back. Your voice is light-- if the wind blew harder he'd have an issue hearing what you have to say. The embers in your eyes burn brightly.

"Do you want to know what those feelings mean?"

Amber eyes stare back at you, revealing millions of thoughts scrolling by. You can feel his breath against your lips, and your heartbeats are like drums beating in synch. Time seems to slow down and it's just you two in the harbor. You both wait with bated breath for his response.

"Yes," he breathes out finally.

Your lantern is released, floating up into the sky to join the hundreds of others that spread across the starry night, and warmth spreads across Xiao's lips. You taste of jueyun chillis and sugary rice pudding, and it's all he can taste. All he can feel is your body against his and the inviting movements of your lips on his. He releases his lantern next and wraps his arms around your body, the firm grip a reminder of his desire to not let you go. Not yet at least.

Under the sea of golden light, you two share a lover's embrace. Duties are but a second thought-- the first being entirely devoted to each other.

Requests (both sfw and nsfw) are open~!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact one shot #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #tokki writes #genshin impact xiao fluff #xiao x reader fluff #xiao fluff

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bradshawsbitch · 2 years

Text

horsemanship | rhett abbott x reader

disclaimer: first time writing for darling rhett, please give feedback I love hearing from y’all! also let me know if you want a part 2 where they fuck on the meadow cause I’m down for that.

warnings: me waxing poetic about horses I guess! gn!reader, fluff

description: after Royal takes a nasty tumble, and the cattle needs moving - who better to help rhett work than you?

tags for people who might enjoy this: @theharddeck @lt-bradshaw @rhettabbotts @roosterforme @mak-32

It was early morning. For some it might even still be late night, some stumbling home along lonely paths - frightfully lost in their mindless stupor. It’d never occur to judge those for whom this hour was late, it was enviable. Living life to the fullest, taking all that it has to offer - that had to be admirable, right? But this hour was early, not late.

Stifling a yawn, bleary eyes searched for those perfect pair of jeans - the ones that were worn and comfortable for a day in the saddle. A worn long-sleeved t-shirt adorned your upper body already, along with a beat up dark green crew neck jumper. Finding the jeans, doing them up slowly and finding a suitable belt and shoes - you grabbed your water bottle and gear and headed out to the stables, grasping a baseball cap from the hanger by the door.

It had been late last night when Royal Abbott called your residence. It was rare that Royal ever asked for favors, so you knew it must've been rather dire. There had been a storm the previous night, and it seemed as if his cattle might've gotten spooked at the thunder - and so they had migrated to the wrong field for the season. He would've moved them himself, but he'd taken rather a nasty tumble earlier, and whilst he was certain he could make it - Cecilia would likely kill him if he tried. He grumbled in to the receiver that Perry and Rhett could probably manage it on their own if you couldn't help, and you heard Cecilia scowling in the background. A third rider would help if there were strays. She was of course right. So with a smile you'd hung up the phone, eager to spend the day with one of Royals' sons.

Growing up surrounded by all types of animals, you'd learnt early that a lot could be learnt from them. They signal clearly what they’re feeling - you just have to be perceptive enough to pick up on them, a notion that not many people seemed to hone in on these days. Everything had to be done efficiently and fast, which left little room for interpreting a live animals feelings. Animals expressed their feelings without regard, and you figured humankind could learn something from studying them.

Horses especially, are one of the most expressive animals there is. To the uninitiated they might seem like they just eat grass and swish their tails to lazily swat away flies, but if you knew their language you could tell a lot about them. Their signals were so subtle, the flick of an ear, the widening of the eyes, a shake of the head or a lick and chew all meant something different. You knew that you could tell a lot about a man from how he treated his horse, and how his horse treated him.

Royals’ steed trusted his rider, the rider was his leader and the horse seemed confident that Royal would not lead him astray. They were companions, with an understanding that not much more was between them than that.

Perry’s horse ignored his calls, probably because he could tell that in Perry’s eyes - the horse was just a means to an end. A way to get from point A to point B, and a tool to get his job done. It wasn’t that Perry mistreated the animal, it was just that Perry lacked the soul to truly understand his horse in the deeper way that others could. According to you, it said something of his character.

And then there was Rhett. His horse should hate him, considering he had a red mare. Mares were notorious for their mood, and red ones were considered the worst in the mood department. Mares seldom let people touch them, and if they did you would probably get a little nip in the side, an annoyed stomp of the hoof - or a high pitched whinny to let you know that she was not likely to do as you asked - unless you asked very pretty.

Rhett’s mare didn’t like a soul in the world except Rhett. When he called her name she came trotting, ears perked up forward and a low, comforting neigh always welcomed him. He had built such trust with his mare, that he could ask her of anything and she’d ask almost no questions. She still had her days, after all - she was still a mare. It was in her blood. But on the days she figured she knew best, Rhett took it in stride - often with a laugh and a smile if she got a bit cheeky with him, giving him a little buck or a kick of the leg as he spurred her on.

Growing up near Rhett you’d seen the blood sweat and tears he’d put in to make his mare trust him. You’d lost count of the times he’d landed on his back in the gravel, and always getting up with a smile “I’m sorry, sweetheart - I asked the wrong way didn’t I?” It made your heart clench. He knew that it was never the horses fault if there was a miscommunication, he hadn’t asked the right question. He’d started working her from the ground, in one of the round pens, to gain her trust in him to lead her. She was skittish at first, and very stubborn. But Rhett took it all in stride, speaking softly, moving slowly and taking it all in her time.

You think maybe that’s why you fell in love with Rhett. How he treated his mare spoke volumes about his ability to love, to cherish, to listen and to understand. He was attentive, he had a soft soul that gave so much to others and asked for so little back. You could tell he wished that someone would put in enough time to truly understand him too, the way he understood his mare. As you saddled up your beautiful buckskin, you couldn’t help but wish that he’d let that someone be you.

As if the animal beside you could tell that you were deep in thought, he gently nudged you with his muzzle. It was his way of saying - so you’ve saddled and bridled me, attached my saddle bags and gear, are you going to get on today? Chuckling, you placed your baseball cap on your head, put your boot in the stirrup and hoisted yourself easily up on his back. You gave your horse and appreciative pat before gently smacking your lips to make him walk. As you rode towards the Abbott ranch, the sun had started to drown the pastures in a pale orange glow.

The steady movement of your horses walk made your hips move slightly in time with the gait, and it felt as natural as if you were walking yourself. The saddle, being well worn was comfortable, it had to be with the hours you’d need to spend in it. This was second nature to you, as easy as breathing. Nearing the Abbott stables, you spotted Perry and Rhett leading their horses out of the stable. A small chuckle escaped your lips as you saw Rhett’s mare clack her teeth at Perry’s horse. Perry had led him far too close to Rhett’s mare for her liking, and Rhett glared at Perry as the latter struggled his way up in the saddle.

“You know she doesn’t like that,” you heard Rhett grumble, as he gave his mare a soothing pat before swinging himself up in the saddle with ease. This was like breathing for him too. Rhett gave his mare another appreciative pat before letting a murmured "Good girl," slip from his lips, probably subconsciously. It made your cheeks heat up slightly, and you figured it best to make your presence known.

“‘Morning fellas,” you smiled as your horse halted in front of the two men. Perry smiled and nodded towards you, fixing his reins before he let them touch his horses neck to signal he should turn towards the pasture to begin walking.

Rhett smiled as he took in your appearance in the morning sun. It was almost enough to take his breath away. “Morning, sunshine” he smiled as he softly asked his mare to walk next to yours - at a respectable distance of course. Though your horse and his mare got along better than the mare and Perry’s horse.

You smiled, and had to take a deep breath as you took in Rhett’s riding attire. He wore his cowboy hat, something you secretly loved about him. Along with jeans, cowboy boots and a thick, old and worn jacket with a faded aztec print on. It had probably been Royal’s at some point.

“Been a while since I saw you,” Rhett continued, as the sun rose higher in the sky as you searched for the herd. You ducked your head, wondering if you should confess.

“I’ve been to all of your rodeos lately, but you haven’t seen me,” you spoke softly, offering him a sheepish smile. His eyes widened, as he turned his upper body towards yours, his brows furrowed a little as he spoke “No way, I would’ve seen you! Why didn’t you come up to me afterwards?”

“You were surrounded by your family and some girls and I didn’t want to be a bother,” you rambled, feeling your cheeks heat up in the cool morning air. Rhett let out a low chuckle before shaking his head.

“You never bother me, sunshine,” as he spoke, his keen eyes had spotted the heard, and he only had to give you a look before you’d spurred your horses on to start working.

You worked the cattle well into the afternoon, and as they were now peacefully walking towards their correct pasture, Perry asked if the two of you could handle the rest - he needed to head back to pick up Amy from school. Rhett and you nodded as your horses walked behind the heard, waving at him as he steered home.

Rhett looked beautiful in the afternoon sun, a thin sheen of sweat had gathered on his forehead, and in the junction of his throat. He’d since long shed his jacket, fastening it to the saddle in preference of riding in a black, tight t-shirt. You bit your lip softly as he caught you gazing at him. He smiled softly at you, and his beautiful blue eyes felt as if they saw right through you. It was as if he could anticipate your every slight mood swing, and he averted his gaze with a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Suddenly you felt like his mare. He didn’t want to scare you off.

“Rhett?” You spoke softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sound of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees.

“Yeah, sunshine?” you licked your lips.

“Do you ever think of me?”

You’d come to a halt, having led the cattle to the correct pasture. You let your horse graze for a bit as you turned to look at Rhett. His eyes were soft, and a lopsided smile adorned his face. He didn’t answer right away, instead dismounting his mare and tying up her reins. He took a few short strides before he stood beneath you, his palm spread on your jean clad thigh. Instinctively, you knew he was asking you to dismount as well. You swung your leg across the horses neck, sitting side saddle for a moment, before you felt Rhett’s strong hands on your hips as you slid down from the saddle.

“Hi,” he whispered with a charming smile, his face so close to yours as he held your hips.

“H-hi” you stuttered out, and Rhett groaned.

“Do I ever think of you, sunshine?” he repeated, leaning into your body, letting you feel his broad chest with the palms of your hand, could feel his slightly erratic heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. His arms had wound around you and rested at your lower back.

“You are always on my mind,” he whispered, his lips gracing your ear softly, his breath ghosting over your neck before his lips followed its path. Your hands gripped his t-shirt, wanting to pull him impossibly close to you and never let go - you wanted him with you, always. Wanted to feel his body against yours like this for the rest of time.

“Rhett,” the whisper of his name, tumbling breathlessly from your lips sounded like a song to him, and the whisper seemed to echo in the mountains - as if you had spoken his name to the gods above and made him who he was. Rhett retreated from his position at your throat, looking into your eyes, trying to read your very soul. He licked his lip, and slowly reached a hand up to tilt his hat back a little - giving you plenty of time to spook, to flee - but your smile lit up the autumn afternoon, and Rhett let the tip of his nose gently touch yours lovingly - teasing you by letting it caress yours.

“Rhett” you spoke again, his name now an impatient prayer that sunk so deliciously into his own skin.

“Yes, sunshine?” He murmured with a smile, his lips so close to yours that you could almost feel them move.

“Kiss me.” it was a breathless question, a whine almost - needing him to take from you what you were willing to give him. You swore you almost heard him whimper at your tender request, but you couldn’t be too sure as he’d closed the gap between the two of you, slotting his pink lips against yours in a searing kiss. He inhaled sharply at the feelings that small kiss stirred deep within him. It didn’t just shoot straight to the gutter as it normally would, but it started a storm of emotions deep within his chest, like an ache that had been slumbering but was now awoken and soothed at the same time.

He broke free to let your name fall from his lips, and it surprised him that tears were burning in his eyes.

Your soft smile and reassuring touch told him that he had finally let you in. Had finally let you be the one to see him and cherish him as he was. He almost beat himself up for not seeing it sooner.

“It’s always been you, hasn’t it, sunshine?” He spoke softly, his hands fluttering over your body in disbelief.

“I’ve wanted it to be me,” you confessed, smiling at the storm of emotions playing on Rhett’s face. You could tell this was overwhelming for him. You were afraid he’d never been loved unconditionally before, on his terms. “But I wanted to give you time. I wanted to understand you first, and I feel like I do now,” you continued, pushing a stray strand of his hair behind his ear, tucking it neatly into his hat.

“And you’ve been here this whole time,” he hiccuped, feeling the emotions drain from his high strung and stressed body.

“And I’ll continue to be here for as long as you need me,” you smiled, pecking his lips sweetly. Rhett’s eyes fluttered close at that statement, his breath stuttering in his throat as he thought of the implication of that.

The notion that maybe you could love him, all of him, as he were. Without having to leave, without having to change. He was good enough to you just as he was now. Rhett. He let his forehead rest against yours, and your eyelids fluttered closed too as you drank in the feeling of the late afternoon sun warming your face. Inhaling the sweet puffs of air that left the lips of the man you now felt you truly understood.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fluff #sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged 🙈

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training4theapocalypse · 1 year

Text

A Nest of Vipers (Cormac McLaggen x Original Female Character - Slytherin)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings / Tags: Smut, Secret Relationship

Summary: Una Montague wouldn't be caught dead dating a Gryffindor. Luckily for her, the feeling was mutual as far as Cormac McLaggen was concerned.

A/N: Dear god, please forgive me for what I wrote while ovulating. First time writing an OFC but I think it's still as hot as reader-insert. OFC and McLaggen are both 18. Also I just want to say that I fucking hate JK Rowling and am gleefully bastardising her work.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, (let me know if you want removed/changed at any point btw!)

Chapter 1: Smudge

The Slytherin common door shut with a thundering echo. Una Montague looked up from her Astronomy homework and locked eyes with Meredith Prewett. Uh-oh.

Professor McGonagall had asked Sabine to stay behind after Transfiguration that day and judging by the way her high heels stomped across the stone as she stormed towards the group of sixth-years sitting by the fire, it had not gone well.

“You’re in my seat,” said Sabine Zabini with a cutting glare.

Pansy Parkinson sprang up without argument. “Sorry Sabine. Let’s go,” she added to her friends who hastily packed up their things and made themselves scarce.

Una and Meredith rushed over from the little alcove at the lake window as Sabine sank into the onyx wing-backed chair with a woeful groan.

“Sab, are you okay?” fawned Meredith, perching on the arm of Sabine’s chair.

“If I ever see that old hag again, it’ll be too soon,” she hissed.

Una sat down on the hard marble table in front of them. “What did she want?” she asked. When McGonagall had asked her to stay behind, Sabine had told Una to go on without her, and so had she made her way down to the dungeons and found Meredith studying in the common room.

“She told me if I want to sit my Transfiguration N.E.W.T., I’d have to start taking remedial Transfiguration lessons with her.”

“No!” gasped Meredith. Una didn’t say anything. She knew from sitting beside Sabine all throughout the previous year that she was lucky to have even made it to seventh-year Transfiguration. But the first few weeks of term had made it apparent that she was not keeping up with the curriculum.

“Well, of course, I told her where she could stick her remedial Transfiguration.”

“You didn’t!” said Meredith. Sabine caught Una’s eyes before rolling hers.

“Of course, I didn’t, Meredith. No, I thanked her very much for the kind offer but told her I’m withdrawing from the class. Obviously.”

“Oh, Sab,” Una groaned. “You should have just done a few extra lessons with her.”

“Ugh, as if.”

“Who am I going to make fun of her hideous hat with now?” Una smirked, trying to hide her excitement and Sabine returned it. There was one person in Transfiguration who didn’t have a partner and Una was already making silent plans to sit next to him.

Cormac McLaggen. Tall, stupidly beautiful, beautifully stupid Cormac McLaggen. God, she wanted him. But Slytherins and Gryffindors barely spoke to each other here unless completely necessary in lessons. Both houses liked to think they were the others’ opposite. But Una knew that they were simply two sides of the same coin.

Cormac barely even looked at Una. And for some reason that made Una want him more.

When she, Sabine and Meredith walked down the corridor arm-in-arm, boys - even the Gryffindors - couldn’t help but stare. Slack-jawed, awestruck, terrified by the trio’s powerful feminine energy. But not Cormac. He was head and shoulders taller than the three of them so he didn’t even need to avert his gaze - he just simply looked over them as if they weren’t there.

Sabine and Meredith (but especially Sabine) would be horrified if they knew about Una’s crush. Sure, he was good looking but it would be social suicide to date a Gryffindor. Even one as well-connected as him - apparently his Uncle was extremely high-up in the Ministry.

Una had a stupid habit of wanting what she couldn’t have. And, fuck, she was desperate to have him. Even just once. Just to find out what he’d be like. He was so big and broad and downright intimidating. But Una was sure she could have him whimpering, begging for her-

“Hello? Earth to Head Girl?” Sabine and Meredith looked at her expectantly. Una blinked a few times and shook her head.

“Sorry - I was thinking about… Transfiguration. What were you saying?”

“Who are you going to sit beside tomorrow?” asked Meredith.

“Ugh, I don’t know.” Una made a show of rolling her eyes. “I’ll probably just sit at the back by myself. I’ll get a lot more work done without you there,” she teased Sabine.

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes,” said Sabine, pulling her long, black braids over her shoulder. “Whatever are you going to do without me leading you astray?”

It wasn’t so much a question of what, thought Una, but who.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A bag landed on Cormac McLaggen’s desk with a thud and he looked up in surprise to see Una Montague perched on the edge of the desk, looking down at him. “You’re good at Transfiguration, right?” she asked abruptly.

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Can I sit here?”

What fresh hell was this? What was one of the Vipers doing sitting on his desk? It was rare to see any of them alone. Cormac looked behind her sceptically. “Where’s your friend?”

Sighing heavily, Una pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. “I’ll sit somewhere else.”

She turned to walk away, swishing her hair as she went. But before she took a step he said quickly, “Wait - yeah, you can sit here.” He supposed it would be poor manners to let a pretty girl, albeit a notoriously mean one, sit by herself at the back of the class when there was a perfectly good empty seat next to him.

“Only if I’m not inconveniencing you.”

Already feeling like he was about to regret it, he gestured to the seat.

Cormac continued to look unsurely at her as she slid into the seat next to him. “What happened to Sabine?”

Una rummaged in her bag. Cormac expected her to take out her textbook but instead, she withdrew a small, black compact mirror and some lipgloss. “Oh, she dropped Transfiguration...” Cormac watched quietly as the lipgloss wand drew across her lips, spreading a shimmering pink glaze over them. And for some reason, he felt like he should look away. Like he was watching something extremely private. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. “She couldn’t handle it.”

She pressed her lips together and pouted a little in the mirror, examining her neat work. The way she preened herself made Cormac want to reach out and smear the gloss over her face, just to see her reaction.

She snapped the compact shut and jolted him out of his daze with a start.

“I should give you two for flinching,” she smirked.

Professor McGonagall strode past them to the front of the class and the chattering students quietened down. She announced that they were going to be working on conjuring birds today.

“Might I remind you that your N.E.W.Ts are only a few months away and none of you are yet to successfully conjure more than a feather.”

The class groaned and got to work, trying with limited success to conjure birds using the Avis spell.

“Why is this so bloody difficult,” grumbled Cormac after some time, concentrating on his wand tip while Una lazily brushed a comb through her hair - her wand abandoned on the table. “Conjuring inanimate objects? Fine. But birds…”

“Have a lot of trouble with birds, then?”

“Oh, very funny.”

“I’m serious. I’ve never even seen you with a girl.”

Cormac lowered his wand and turned in his chair slightly. Oh, so this was why she sat here, was it? He couldn’t deny she was good-looking. But still, a Slytherin.

“Oh yeah, been watching me, have you?”

“I’m just very observant.”

“I’m single if that’s what you’re asking?”

Una rolled her eyes. “You wish, Cormac.”

Cormac leaned back in his chair and looked her over, resting his arm on the backrest as he did.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” she asked innocently, putting her brush in her bag before raising her wand and pretending to concentrate on conjuring birds.

“I’ve never seen you with anyone. Except for the Vipers. Or is that a thruple situation?”

“The Vipers?”

“You know, Slytherin’s other monsters. Sabine and Meredith.”

Una laughed. He had half-expected a shrill cackle. But her laugh was warm, even genuine. “Oh, so is that what they’re calling us in Gryffindor Tower?

He shrugs.

“It’s catchy.”

“So? Are you?”

She too lowered her wand and leaned in closer to him. “Are you asking if we fuck each other?” she murmured, staring intently into his green eyes. “Are you picturing me rolling around in the sheets with them in the Slytherin girls dorm? Making them moan my name?” she teased.

Cormac paused and swallowed. “What if I am?” he said, and was pleased when it sounded more confident than he felt. They were both playing with Fiendfyre, talking like this so brazenly in the classroom. But he wasn’t sure who was more skilled in this Dark Art.

“I should slap you,” Una said, moving closer still so he could hear her barely audible admonishment. He felt her bare leg in her stupidly short skirt pressing against his.

“Don’t. I can only get so hard.”

Her eyelashes dipped as she looked down at his lap. Una drew a sharp inhale when his fingers twitched suddenly towards his belt.

He smirked.

“I was joking. But I should give you two for flinching.”

Uno looked up again at him coolly. “You’re not gonna give anything to me.”

“Oh yeah?” He gave her an arrogant smile as if he found it hard to believe. “Why’s that?”

“First of all, I’m not that easy. And second of all, I wouldn’t be caught dead dating a Gryffindor.”

“Who said anything about dating? What if -”

“Miss Montague, Mr McLaggen. Is there something amusing you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

Silence fell over the class again and Una and Cormac turned hastily in their seats to face the front.

“I was just explaining the theory, Professor” Una said sweetly, seemingly unphased by the interruption.

“Then perhaps you could demonstrate?” Professor McGonagall challenged, calling her bluff.

Una pointed her wand and out shot six yellow twittering canaries.

McGonagall’s lips pursed together in a thin line. Cormac was sure she was about to award Una points but instead she addressed him. “And Mr McLaggen?”

Cormac extended his own wand. A stream of feathers erupted from the end and floated down onto the floor. Una bit her lips, trying to stifle a snicker at his expense.

Any further embarrassment on his part was saved when the bell rang signalling the end of class and McGonagall dismissed them.

“I suppose I’ll see you on Friday?” asked Una casually, positioning her bag on her shoulder.

“Thursday.”

“The next lesson’s not 'til Friday.”

“Slughorn’s dinner thing. You’re not ditching it again, are you?”

“I don’t know… Sabine and Meredith say it’s a waste of time, sucking up to an old has-been like Slughorn.”

“They don’t need to come.”

“Trying to get me alone, Cormac?”

Cormac laughed. “It might just be nice for you to make some new friends. You’re not that bad when you’ve slithered away from the Viper’s nest.”

Una narrowed her eyes. “I happen to like my current friends, thank you very much.”

“Sure but I only meant -”

“Believe it or not, I don’t actually care what anyone from your house thinks of me or my friends. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my thruple.”

And with that, Cormac watched as Una strutted out of the classroom, leaving him to kick himself for managing to fumble the quaffle so hard - right when it was going his way too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you miss me terribly, Una?” cooed Sabine when Una found her and Meredith beside the common room fire that afternoon.

“It was the worst,” she said, plopping herself down on the sofa, watching the way the fire danced against the green tiles. “McGonagall picked on me and didn’t even give me a measly point for doing the Avis spell correctly. And nonverbally I might add.”

“Typical,” said Meredith. “It’s so unfair. She hates us.”

“Who did you end up sitting next to?” asked Sabine, flicking through her magazine.

“Erm, that guy… McLaggen,” said Una, as if his name was of little consequence.

“Not that oaf.”

“I know,” said Una. “And it’s not like I could even copy him - he was about as useful as a chocolate cauldron. I’m surprised he’s not in remedial Transfiguration.”

Sabine laughed but Meredith paused thoughtfully.

“He is quite handsome though, isn’t he? And rich, I think.”

“Eugh, Meredith. You have terrible taste,” said Sabine.

Una quickly copied Sabine’s look of disgust while Meredith backtracked.

“I just meant he’s alright to look at. Still a Gryffindor though, obviously.”

“And an idiot. Didn’t you hear how he ended up in the hospital wing last year? Eddie Carmichael dared him to eat Doxy Eggs for a bet. Some Head Boy he is, Una. Between him and McLaggen, you’ll have your work cut out for you this year.”

Una wrinkled her nose.

“Poor Una,” said Meredith sympathetically.

“I did find out some good gossip though,” said Una raising her eyebrows and leaning back on the sofa. “The Gryffindors call the three of us The Vipers.”

“That’s rude,” said Meredith but Sabine shrieked in a fit of giggles.

“I love it!” she laughed. “We really are just living in their heads, aren’t we?”

Una grinned. “I know.”

Sabine closed her magazine and stood up. “Let’s go down to the Great Hall. I’m starving. What do vipers eat anyway?”

“If they’re anything like Ashwinders then insects. Raw eggs,” said Meredith in an attempt to be helpful.

“That’s disgusting, Meredith,” said Sabine, linking her arm through Una’s. Meredith hurriedly latched on to her other side.

“Speaking of dinner,” Una said. “I’m thinking about going to Slughorn’s on Thursday.”

“Ugh, pass,” said Meredith.

“Why?” asked Sabine, giving Una a shrewd look. “Blaise said it was terribly boring.”

“I know but I probably ought to as Head Girl. Bit of a snub if I don’t go twice. And maybe it’ll help my marks in potions.”

“You reckon?” asked Meredith.

“Well, it can’t hurt my marks if he likes me.”

“That’s a good point,” said Sabine thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll come too then. I need all the help I can get since I’ve got one less N.E.W.T. this year.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Shit, thought Una.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blaise Zabini was waiting in the common on Thursday night when Sabine, Una and Meredith finally ascended from the girl’s dormitory.

“Mum was complaining you’ve not written to her yet,” he told Sabine.

“I’ve been busy.”

“All four N.E.W.Ts proving to be time consuming, then?”

“Shut up.”

The four of them made their way along to Professor Slughorn’s office. They opened the door to find several plush seats already occupied around the extravagantly decorated table. Una felt irked when she noticed McLaggen was notably absent. This whole thing really would have been a waste of time if he didn’t turn up after all.

“Welcome, welcome!” Boomed Professor Slughorn. “So nice of you to join us. Blaise, good to see you again - and you’ve brought your sister!”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for inviting me,” said Sabine graciously as they found their seats and Slughorn beamed. Sabine had such a way of making people feel flattered, even special just from her presence.

“And our Head Girl, Miss Montague. And Miss Prewett! I taught your father, you know.”

“Yes, sir. He spoke extremely highly of you,” said Meredith, sitting down.

Una sat on Sabine’s right, leaving a few seats next to her empty. Just in case, said a small voice in her head.

Slughorn began introducing everyone. Una was surprised to notice the way Blaise’s eyes lingered on a fifth-year girl, Ginny Weasley. Though she wasn’t sure if it was distaste or something entirely opposite. Interesting. Una didn’t say anything - she just made a mental note of it, the way she so often did with snippets of potentially damning information.

Slughorn’s office door opened again and Una looked to see Eddie Carmichael entering. Her heart sank as she turned back around again.

“You could have held it open,” said Cormac McLaggen’s voice. Una froze, not daring to glance at the door, incase Sabine noticed her constant fidgeting in her seat.

“Sorry, mate,” said Eddie, pulling out the free seat beside Una.

Cormac slid into the open chair before Eddie could. “That’s more like it, cheers mate.” He looked at Una. “Alright? - ouch!”

Eddie slapped the back of Cormac’s head before sitting down on his other side. Cormac ran his hand through his dark, curly blonde hair.

“Idiots,” scoffed Sabine under her breath.

And Una had to agree.

Cormac shuffled his seat in closer to the table. His shoulders were so broad that Una could feel his arm pressing up against her. Even if she folded her arms, she could still feel him, taking up far too much space.

As the evening went on, they listened to Slughorn regale stories of all the famous students he had taught, each of them members of what he called his ‘Slug Club’. Every time he said the name it made Una cringe. He fawned over Cormac, asking him about his father’s Ministry connections, praised Meredith’s dad’s apparent Potions prowess as a youth and asked Sabine and Blaise what their famous mother was up to. He asked Una about her father - a prominent benefactor of St Mungo's - but was more interested in Una's Head Girl duties. And Una was grateful for this - the less she had to talk about St Mungo's the better.

After dinner, Slughorn summoned a bottle of Elf-made wine with a flourish of his wand. “Just for those who are of age,” he chided the younger students in a sing-song voice, “And only a glass each. Or else you’ll need an Awakening Draught tomorrow!” He chuckled. “And speaking of which - “ Slughorn looked at the seventh-years mischievously, “- you’d do well to brush up on that ahead of our lesson on Monday.”

Sabine grinned at Una and Meredith. It had been worth enduring the evening after all, if they were getting tips about the following class.

As Una drank her glass of wine, she felt Cormac’s leg brush against hers. Maybe the wine had emboldened her but she didn’t shrink away. Instead, she shifted slightly, leaning her leg against his.

On Una’s left, Sabine and Blaise began sniping at each other again when Blaise suggested that their mother might send her a howler. On her right, Cormac was telling Eddie about his plans to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Una lifted her glass to her lips but paused when she felt something. A large, warm hand grazing her bare leg. Cormac’s. She looked down but her lap was covered by the tablecloth.

She moved in closer to the table and Cormac made to withdraw his hand when he felt her shift but she placed her own hand firmly on top of his, before returning hers to the table.

Cormac continued talking to Eddie as if nothing had happened while Una felt his hand trail further up her leg and under her skirt. She took another sip of wine and pretended to listen interestedly as Slughorn started waxing lyrical about a friend he had who was writing a biography about a Vampire.

“I simply must introduce you to Eldred Woprle, Miss Carrow. He has a lot of contacts at the Daily Prophet, you know.”

Una felt blood rushing below her waist as Cormac’s fingertips traced across her inner thigh. Her own hand gripped her wine glass with more force than was necessarily required, just for something to keep herself steady.

“I was sort of hoping Potter would be here tonight. It’d be good to get him on side before tryouts.”

“I don’t know why you’re arsed, mate. I keep telling you - football. Now that’s a real game.”

The plush, cozy room now felt stiflingly hot. Adrenaline coursed through Una’s body as she shakily raised her glass to her lips to try and hide her face. Cormac’s hand skirted over the crux of her thigh. Wine met her lips as she tilted her glass, letting the fruity, slightly sour liquid infiltrate her mouth.

“Well maybe I’ll tell Mum that you’ve got detention with Flitwick already - then we’ll see who gets a howler.”

Una’s heart raced in her chest. The several conversations going on in the room turned to white noise. Slowly, carefully, so as not to brush against Sabine, Una moved her legs apart. A silent invitation. She breathed shakily as she felt Cormac’s fingertips slip under the hem of her soaking wet underwear.

“My my!” cried Slughorn suddenly, causing Una to flinch and inhale an entire mouthful of wine. “Look at the time!” Cormac quickly removed his hand as Una began choking and spluttering.

Sabine gave her a concerned look as she coughed. “Are you alright? You’re bright red.”

Una wiped her lips, trying to compose herself quickly. “I’m - I’m fine,” she gasped. “Just went down the wrong way. And wine makes my cheeks flush.” She extracted her compact mirror and lipgloss, re-applying it hastily.

“It’s gone straight to your face too, mate,” said Eddie Carmichael, looking at Cormac.

Cormac laughed and touched his hand to his warm face. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose it does a bit.”

Una looked at him and felt herself flush even deeper when she saw him press two fingers thoughtfully against his lips. They were wet.

“Oh, how time flies when you’re having fun. You’d all better be off back to your dormitories. And if Mr Filch gives you any trouble, you just send him straight to me,” said Slughorn, waving his hand in the air.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Sabine, standing up abruptly.

Una pushed her chair back and followed her, Meredith and Blaise out of the room without so much of a backwards look.

As soon as they got out into the corridor, Meredith laughed.

“What a drag that was. Honestly, it would be worth failing Potions if I never had to endure that again.”

“I know,” agreed Sabine.

“I think I preferred it to another evening with Malfoy and the rest,” scoffed Blaise. “They’re always brooding these days. And I suppose the wine wasn’t too bad. If you don’t choke on it, that is.”

“Hilarious,” said Una.

“What did you think, Una? You were unusually quiet.”

Una’s abdomen tingled. Her brain worked overtime to come up with an excuse while blood rushed in her ears.

“Well, I had you lot squabbling on my left and two idiots on my right talking non-stop about Quidditch.” Una rolled her eyes convincingly. “But it wasn’t too dreadful. At least we know what’s coming up in Potions on Monday.”

“Well, that’s it sorted then. You can go with Blaise next time and report back to Meredith and I if Slughorn gives us any more hints,” said Sabine, with finality.

Una mulled this over, pursing her lips together thoughtfully. It certainly would be easier to talk to Cormac McLaggen if she only had one person keeping an eye on her. She could hardly just be expected to talk to Blaise and only Blaise all night. She was allowed to network, right? And perhaps, she thought, Blaise would like to network with Ginny Weasley.

“Fine,” said Una. “But you owe me. Big time.”

Sabine linked her arms between Una and Meridith as they sauntered along the corridor to the dungeons. Una still felt faintly embarrassed about her unseemly choking display. With her free arm, she searched for her mirror in her tiny handbag, wondering if she had any wine down her front.

“Shit,” said Una, stopping and the four of them halted. “I think I left my compact.”

Meredith groaned. “I’m not going back in there. If I have to hear anything else about Vampires-”

“It’s fine - go ahead. I’ll see you two in the dormitory. See you later, Blaise.”

Una untangled herself, turned on her heels and passed the last few stragglers leaving Slughorn’s dinner party.

Her heels clicked as she walked back up the deserted corridor and around the corner.

“Forget something?”

Cormac McLaggen was sitting on a window ledge in the dark hallway, checking himself out in Una’s little black mirror. He snapped it shut and hoisted himself off the stone ledge, walking towards her.

Una extended her palm expectantly.

“What’s the magic word?” he asked, standing in front of her. Una looked up at him as he towered over her. He was so tall she had to strain - her face was only at eye level with his chest.

“Avada Kedavra?” suggested Una, attempting to snatch the compact from his hands but he reacted quickly, pulling it out of her reach.

“Ooh, not quite,” he grinned.

She took a step towards him, their chests almost touching as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Please, Cormac?”

He hadn’t expected her to surrender so quickly. Cormac grudgingly gave her the compact back and they stared at each other for a few moments, neither of them daring to address what had just happened in Slughorn’s office.

“You know, that lipgloss is very pretty,” he said, curling two fingers under Una’s chin. Her heart pounded in her chest again as she looked up into his strikingly green eyes. His own lips were rosy, tinged slightly pink from drinking the same wine. “Too pretty.”

Cormac took his thumb and slowly dragged it across her bottom lip, smearing it down her chin. He squeezed her face roughly and Una smacked his hand away, scowling.

“There. That’s better.” He gave her an arrogant smirk. “See you tomorrow.”

Una let out a scoff of disbelief as Cormac walked away, leaving her standing alone in the corridor.

She opened her compact and examined herself in the mirror - a pink, glittering streak was smudged across her chin and there were faint red marks from where he squeezed her face.

He was right, she thought as she looked at her slightly dishevelled appearance, she did look better like this.

Chapter 2: Struggle

#freddie stroma #cormac mclaggen #slytherin #slytherin fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #cormac mclaggen x original female character

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