#A E V O N speaks; || THE DANCING FLAME

[caelmewedd]

“I didn’t want to admit it, but you were good in a fight.” (from Spyro)

Aevon smiled slightly as she accepted the compliment, then gently and affectionately stroked the scales of her faithful she-dragon, Nevermore, who was not only her trusted steed, but also her best friend. Nevermore also felt pride in her flying skills, trained to perfection. The girl who was her rider was also very proud, for both of them.

“Thank you, Spyro. Nevermore gives her best.” Aevon replied, to which her she-dragon responded with a loud purr. “We have to admit that you also fly wonderfully, but you get a tad lost when gliding down, especially over water. If you want, we can practice together. I'm sure you can learn a lot from my dear Nevermore.”

Nevermore squawked in agreement, expressing her approval of the idea.

[caelmewedd]

Daemon breathed a sigh of relief that finally, after such a long time of constant fighting and misunderstanding, he would finally spend time with his brother, his beloved older brother, whom he had always followed like a little duckling in his youth. At the very thought, his heart fluttered as if some unexplained powerful force had struck him suddenly and unexpectedly like lightning on a stormy night. At last he could begin to feel loved and noticed by Viserys again. He had been vying for his attention for so long, and finally the gods (or rather, a kind soul in the form of Aevon) began to favor him and he was able to get close to his brother again. This time for good. “I'm glad that we will be able to do something together, Viserys. I thought that the blackness of the dragon glass would perfectly reflect the depth of Balerion's personality. It's imperative that we visit the stonemasons, or maybe we can first make an outline of the design of this figurine ourselves?” Daemon gave his brother another suggestion, which was just as good as the first one. Aevon also smiled as she watched the two brothers begin to get along. She felt they both needed it, especially since she already knew that Daemon often felt rejected and misunderstood, but never let on how bad it was for him. Her heart ached at the thought that even though Daemon harbored chaos and fire, from the first moment since she met him, she felt that he was a good person. She felt that Daemon loved his brother very much, even if the latter did not always reciprocate his love as he expected. Fortunately, now they had a chance to make it all right. She could see in Daemon's eyes that he wanted this very much. “Think about it some more, and in the evening we can work on a sketch of the figurine and we'll choose what you like best.” Daemon added with a bright smile, himself arranging in his head the outline of a figure sketch for Viserys.

“I'm really very pleased, Your Grace. I hope Aevon didn't make a fuss here.” Aramil replied with a grateful smile as he shook the king's outstretched hand. He immediately sensed a trace of his daughter's magic. He knew what she had healed. He also felt a trace of another magic in the air, similar to Aevon's, except that this one emanated from the purple dragon that lay at the feet of its mistress. He himself was somehow curious about Nevermore's nature, but most of all why she had chosen his daughter. Despite his vast knowledge of the various magical creatures that existed in this world, but he knew nothing about dragons. In their land, no one had seen dragons and no one knew how to deal with one. He hoped that Daemon and the king might be able to help him and Aevon, especially Aevon, who sometimes seemed to forget that she had a dragon in her care, not a cat or a dog. He had a fear that such a lack of vigilance on his daughter's part might sooner or later turn against her. He wanted to hope that this would not happen. “I believe that it is certainly as you say, Your Grace, but once again I warn you, Aevon also has a lot of spirit. She can be fierce like our pet tiger. Compared to Rajah, Nevermore seems pretty harmless. That's probably the only reason I agreed to let her try, just because she's not like other dragons.” The male mage said, gazing at Nevermore. Daemon sighed softly, then he took an empty cup from the table and a jug half-filled with sweet pink Dornish wine. He filled the cup and handed it to Aramil. “I understand that you are afraid, but I will do everything I can to help Aevon. It will be more of a pleasure than a trouble for me.” Daemon replied after which he filled a cup for himself and his brother. He should have chided Viserys for being the one who does little as a host. Their grandmother, Alyssane, would long ago have severely scolded him for his lack of good manners. A good host should offer guests a humble treat.

“And where do we start, Daemon?” Aevon asked, wondering what her training as a dragon rider would look like. Where will they start? How will they work on Nevermore? She began to wonder how Daemon would teach Rhaenyra to ride a dragon. Will it be entertaining? She had so many questions. For the time being, she couldn't answer any of the questions that were bothering her, and decided to drown out her thoughts with another slice of lemon cake, which she took from a silver tray lying on the table. “And will…this Rhaenyra…also be able to help? Won't she find Nevermore strange? Does she also like her? Will she like me, too?” She asked, swallowing hard for a bite of lemon cake. Daemon smiled more, although he himself did not know why he was still smiling. He usually did it very rarely and only towards Rhaenyra and occasionally towards other family members. With Aevon, he felt like smiling all the time. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop. “She will be delighted to meet you and your Nevermore. I'm sure she'll answer all your questions and ask a hundred of her own in return.” Daemon replied, treating himself to a piece of lemon cake. “Just remember, be good.” Aramil pointed out, knowing what his sometimes defiant daughter was capable of.

“Okay, dad.” Aevon replied, then looked at Nevermore, who looked at her and casually sniffed the hand in which Aevon held an over-eaten piece of lemon cake. The girl gently stroked the scales on the dragon's head and, in the process, combed the pink and purple feathers growing from her head like a mane. Nevermore purred loudly from the pleasure that came from the tender caress. The she-dragon, however, did not forget the piece of overbaked lemon cake held by her mistress. Gently, very gently she took the delicious sweet treat into her mouth, which was met with astonishment by those present in the room. Daemon blinked in amazement, as he had never encountered a dragon that ate fruit…and cakes. How is it possible for any dragon to eat cakes? “Maybe first I'll tell you a little about the dragons that belong to my House. I'll tell you about how we take care of our dragons. After which you will tell me more about your dragon and we will get to how best to care for Nevermore. She may require a different kind of care than my Caraxes, for example…With Viserys, you can learn from the books. As you can see, my brother here seems to have half of our castle library. You agree, don't you, brother?” Daemon replied, hoping that his brother really wanted to help them.

“But I have to admit that Nevermore is the most…unique dragon I've ever seen.” Daemon muttered and looked more carefully at Nevermore. She, too, began to stare at Daemon intensely and with concentration, as if trying to penetrate the Rogue Prince's innermost thoughts. Nevermore's large, sparkling eyes were very sharp and shining, and for a moment Daemon had the impression that millions of twinkling stars could be seen in them. “If you're sure, my Prince, that you can do it, I think you'll have a lot of fun with Aevon at the same time.” Aramil replied, hoping that his daughter's dragon training would go well and that this kingdom would not stand on its head during the process. He also hoped that Aevon did not intend to feed his dragon only cakes. Actually, dragons should not eat cakes at all. When eating fruit, for a dragon to eat cakes is an abnormality.

“What about you and your family? Do you have a place to stay?” Daemon asked, wondering how his guests planned their stay in King's Landing. Not only did he want to be able to get to know their daughter and her dragon better, but he was also very curious about these people. He wanted to find out where they came from, what their culture was like and what their land was like. He had so many questions and also wanted to satisfy his curiosity. Besides, he didn't want there to be outbreaks of panic in the city at the sight of a dragon strolling through the streets. Although the residents of King's Landing were mostly used to the sight of dragons flying over the city, he didn't know how smallfolks would receive one walking freely, even if that dragon was the gentlest in the world.

“We stayed in the upper part of the city. In such a nice old townhouse.” Aevon replied before her father had time to answer anything. “That's true, but I suspect Nevermore will quickly cause a big sensation.” Aramil added, knowing it wouldn't be easy here with a dragon living with them in a rented apartment. “Oh, I almost forgot. I got…We got a certain offer from the king. In exchange for my help with the cure, we got an offer to work and stay here in the castle.” Aevon interjected, though at the mention that the king's health had been out of order until recently, Daemon again felt a tender string twitch in his heart and a certain anxiety resurface in his mind. “Besides, I have a bill to settle here with a certain Maester. You won't believe it, Dad, when I tell you how big an imbecile and scoundrel he must be. I'm not going to leave here without telling him what I think of him and his 'treatment' methods, if his actions could be called treatment.”

“I suspect you will give him a concrete rebuke, darling. But I hope you didn't decide for me in this matter. We agreed that we wouldn't draw attention to ourselves, especially since here people may not be favorable to us for certain reasons.” Aramil replied, suspecting that the Maester (whoever he was) who had messed with his daughter might very quickly become acquainted with his daughter's fiery temperament. Daemon, who listened to what his guests were saying, didn't understand much, but still wished they could have stayed around, as he also hoped to find out what was going on around his brother and what Aevon had to heal in general. Would his brother tell him once they were alone. They were brothers, they could tell each other anything. Or at least Daemon wanted to be able to believe that they could.

“Of course not. I said I wouldn't declare on your behalf.” Aevon replied, quoting word for word what she had answered to the king when he offered her and her family a job and a stay at the royal court. As far as she was concerned, she would have gladly stayed longer at the castle, not only because of the dragon training, but she also wanted to keep an eye on the king and his wellness. It was better to keep her hand on the pulse, especially if the treatment was by magic. Aevon knew full well that any magic, leaves traces and she preferred to keep an eye on Viserys, at least for the next few days, for her own peace of mind. “I don't know that is good idea, Aevon…It's an interesting proposition, but I don't know if living in a castle is a good idea. Especially with your temperament and the dragon. Although I suspect that a dragon in the city is an equally not very good idea.” Aramil replied, wondering what he should think about all this. Although he once happened to take a jobs from Ofieri nobility and the reigning king, he didn't know if he wanted to stay in the royal court for long. The royal courts were full of intrigue, politics and general problematicness that any self-respecting mage should shy away from, and his daughter and her dragon had no bearing on his judgment on the matter. He simply hated politics and preferred not to meddle in any matters concerning the mighty.

“As for me, I'm happy to give you hospitality, and Nevermore can have a nice place in the Dragon Pit.” Daemon said, then took a small sip of wine from his cup. Aevon's brow lifted slightly as she tried to understand what exactly the Dragon Pit could be, though she suspected it was something like a stable for dragons. However, she didn't know how Nevermore would respond to the idea. She did not, after all, like dark, wet and musty caves and dungeons. Aevon couldn't imagine that a dragon as beautiful and elegant as hers could live in some musty dungeon. That was absolutely out of the question. “This probably won't please Nevermore. She will escape you again like she did today, Daemon.” Aevon replied, fearing how sad and unhappy Nevermore would be in confinement.

“I have to think it all over, especially since we didn't arrive long ago.” Aramil replied, still feeling heavy and tired after a very, very long and tiresome trip. "Perhaps we could stay, for a few days, if, Aevon has indeed cured you of something, Your Majesty. I'd just have to go into town to get my wife, son and our things…” The male mage sighed softly and savored a sip of Dornish wine.

Daemon hoped that his guests would want to stay here longer. At least something interesting would be going on in the Keep.

The little girl, Aevon shyly entered a large chamber, where an intricately crafted model of Old Valyria stood on a huge table, and elaborate dragon figurines stood next to a carved city. She carefully picked up one of them and looked at it in awe. Whoever crafted such wonders certainly had great talent. Feeling an urge to play growing in her, she began to play with the figurine she was holding, imagining that she and her good dragon were forced to defend the city from evil dragons. She played until King Viserys came along. She wasn't afraid of him, as he looked very friendly, but she watched him with curiosity. Was he the one who was doing all these wonderful things?

"Uhmm…Hello, Your Grace…Did you create this city and these dragons?" She asked quietly, carefully putting the figurines down on the table. She didn't want to do anything wrong, fortunately she hadn't broken anything, but she hoped the man wouldn't throw her out of here in a very unpleasant way.

After all, she hadn't done anything wrong. She just wanted to play.

Viserys pet project had become a full blown hobby, what started as a history project to learn about the greatest city ever built in the world had now become the elaborate stone model on the grand table in his lavish bedchambers, it had grown so that he had enlisted the best stone workers to carve the models, the buildings, the dragons, everything to the specifications he supplied them from his readings of the ancient texts.

To the king it was a historical recreation of a city the world would never see again, though to a small child he supposed it would be an elaborate playhouse for a doll. He was returning to his chambers after a council meeting, he had slated the day to be spent with his hobby after the meeting. Though when he got there he found a child in his quarters playing with the model, he stopped for a moment and just watched the little girl play. He knew that eventually he would be a grandsire and knew that eventually his own grandchildren would be here doing the same thing, however he didnt know this child.

The king smiled at the child when she asked her question, he could tell that there was some worry about her, "No I did not, but I commissioned them to be made." he answered her truthfully, he wasnt shy to admit that the detail of the stone in the model was beyond his skill. "Tell me child, who are you?" he asked her curiously wondering who this child was and who was she a child of.

[caelmewedd]

crown of glass. sender meets the receiver while their true identity is concealed.

Aevon shyly approached the mysterious creature, which remained hidden behind a curtain of thick, milky mist. The figure standing in the fog was mysterious but very intriguing. It looked like a humanoid hiding behind a cloak, but the little, inquisitive she-elf had a feeling that it was not the true form of the mysterious creature. She didn't know who it could be or what his intentions were, but luckily her faithful dragon, Nevermore, was by her side, ready to defend her from any potential attacker.

"Hey! Who are you? What are you?" Aevon called out, but she did it quietly enough not to provoke the mysterious creature to attack.

[caelmewedd]

You are the brave one.

Aevon blinked when, dismounting from her dragon's saddle, she heard someone's voice behind her. She cautiously turned to the stranger and looked at him carefully, as did Nevermore, who was already beginning to take in the new scent and assess whether the strange stranger was friend or foe. Her large azure eyes bore into the man and tried to assess whether he was a threat to her little mistress.

"Thank you." Aevon said gently stroking the long neck of her brave dragon, who purred pleasantly when her little mistress' gentle hand pleasantly caressed its purple scales. "I don't know if I'm brave or crazy, because according to my brother, I shouldn't be riding a dragon." She added playfully, making fun of Ciaran a bit.

[caelmewedd]

Aevon's Diary Card

[fbfh]

Leo Valdez relationship and intimacy headcanons

As with all steamy/nsfw works, the characters are aged up to 18+/college era

so

let’s get started ‘,:)

(1.2k, get ready)

When you’re making out he’s a top

But when things get heavier

Bottom as hell

Like he’ll instigate

He’ll dance with you and playfully grind a little

He’ll kiss you and bite your ear and whisper things in spanish that shouldn’t be translated

But as soon as you reciprocate

Oh

Bottom mode: fucking on

[plankton voice] I didn’t expect to get this far

Later on in the relationship he might get a little more confident and top you on occasion

Or more if you encourage it

But if he could have one image for the rest of his life 

It would absolutely be you hovering over him about to go to town

Dies in the best possible way if you push him onto the bed/couch/wherever

Gets very excited when you straddle him

Please please straddle him

His hips will automatically go up a little before you even do anything

Really loves when you straddle him 

Loves holding your waist and loves squeezing your butt and loves touching your hair

Genuinely loves all the parts of you

Ass? Yes. Tiddies/pecs? Yes. Legs? Yes.

Big fan of making out

B i g fan of grinding

You could absolutely finish him by grinding

I’m not saying it hasn’t happened before

Like if you grind against him at all even a little

Shabam

Putty in your hands

If you do that little swirly thing with your hips that he loves he’ll moan so loudly

Speaking of which

He is so vocal

S o vocal

Half to break the tension half cause he can’t help it

Makes the absolute nicest noises

Like he takes in a sharp breath and then moans it out

It’s n i c e

A little part of you wants to bite his neck and record the noise as his ring tone in your phone

L o v e s  when you grab him by the collar

If he’s wearing a tie grab him by the tie

Lowkey started wearing a tie more often jus so you’d do this

Generally loves being in a very close proximity to you

He’s the type to be at least a little horny all the time 

His love manifests as horniness a lot

I’m talking any time any place

Especially if it’s inconvenient

Grocery store, clothes shopping, bumping into an old friend

Wake you up in the middle of the night to see if you’re feeling frisky kinda shit

And how could you not be with this boy

The morning after he’ll wake you up with neck kisses

And in his gravely ass morning voice 

“So… you up for round… what round are we up to?”

Goes feral when you lift up his shirt/hoodie by running your hands up his abs

Member 2/2 of the growl/purr thing club

He’ll say something dirty in spanish and punctuate it with some kind of purr snarl and maybe a well placed bite

It’s extremely effective

Don’t let him know that though

Otherwise he’ll do it all the time and have too much power

Speaking of power

Call him papi and he bursts into flame

“Whatever you say, papi…”

!!!!!!

He’ll genuinely freeze in shock

Red as a firetruck

But you can only do it like once a year or he’ll actually die

It’s that powerful

Really likes lacy underwear

If u wear bras and you happen to wear like 

An unlined lace bra

Esp if it’s like burgundy or red

Obvs

Or if you genuinely want to end him then wear matching bra and panty sets

The top of his head unfolds like a cartoon and animated rockets and fireworks spray out  

Another fun thing you can do to ruin him:

Trace your fingers over the lines of his muscles 

Especially his v line

Makes him shiver every fucking time

If you surprise him by pushing him onto the couch, straddle him and grind until he’s bucking his hips and moaning

Dw it doesn’t take long

He will literally genuinely unironically propose marriage if you do that

The type of person to cancel plans if you take off your shirt

Have you seen those tiktok videos where people surprise their s/os by walking out naked

The first one in this compilation is all I have to say about that

H i c k i e s

This man and his hickies,, eye-

He fucking LOVES giving you hickies

Will not object in any way shape or form if you give him a few on his chest and neck

Will “accidentally” let them show without an ounce of shame

r/oopsdidntmeanto

Bite his collar bones really gently

Just trust me his reaction is worth it

Very very worth it

Squeeze his thighs from time to time

It’s a nice surprise for all parties

He is a total hoe for egirls 

You cannot convince me otherwise

Like if you put on any kind of egirl outfit/makeup he loses his shit

Do an ahegao face as a joke 

He actually stumbles backward and falls onto the nearest surface

And then bursts into flame

He just stares at you and you know you’re in for a long night/afternoon/morning

“H-how… how do I make you do that again??”

If you combine the face with the egirl look just uuuh

Time it at the beginning of a vacation or three day weekend

Cause neither of you will be doing anything for a while

Except each other

An “every surface in the house” kinda guy

Literally genuinely such a good lover

Like he’s so focused on you 

Gets serotonin just from you being around

Much less you trailing your hands under the waistband of his underwear

Oh do that too

Like you unbutton his pants and start to tug them down

But kinda play with the band and material of his underwear before you finish undressing him

Drives him fucking wild

m u t u a l  g r o p i n g

Very into foreplay/fun teasing

But won’t die without it

It’s like,, you get a cake and it’s amazing

And the more frosting decorations and sprinkles you add it gets even better

You’re just so excited you have dessert 

Idek if that makes sense but you probs get what i mean

He has a unique brand of aftercare

Ig it’s like,,, more focused on bonding than one person taking care of the other

Good luck not cuddling with this man

Let him sleep with his face in your chest

We all know he’s a stomach sleeper

Esp if you have boobs

If he could purr he absolutely would

If you try to wham bam thank you maam without cuddling after like 

He’ll survive

But when he finally gets you to cuddle he will absolutely make up for that lost time

His favorite thing ever is when he gets to see you just like,,, being organically yourself

Like watching you take off your makeup

Absolutely the type to watch you get dressed the morning after

Like you don’t even really realize he’s awake 

But you get that feeling like eyes are on you yk

You turn around and see him looking at you all sleepy and lovey

“...What?”

“Nothing…”

So you keep getting dressed

But the look doesn’t fade 

And you know it’s not nothing

The way he’s looking at you now, you know you’re the something

He makes it feel really nice to be the something 

Cause like you view yourself as his something

But he deadass sees you as his everything

And he will do everything he can to make you feel euphoric in as many aspects of your life as possible

[caelmewedd]

Nevermore in final version (+ sketch)

[caelmewedd]

"It's nice to meet you too, Spyro. My name is Aevon." The little elf introduced herself to him, smiling warmly at him. Although she was still surprised that the little dragon had the ability to verbally communicate through human-like speech, she wanted to be able to get to know him better. After all, it wasn't often one saw a talking dragon.

"Thank you so much for your help, Spyro," she said. Aevon added, recalling how it had happened that she had fallen down the slope, she remembered that she had walked obliquely to the grove so that she could pick some of the fruit that grew there, which Nevermore loved so much. Then her realization hit her when it occurred to her that Nevermore wasn't around and her dragoness could sense from afar that something was threatening her through the bond they shared.

'And have you seen Nevermore anywhere? She is also a purple dragon like you, only she is so different from you. We used to meet deep in the forest, but I didn't get there because I fell and lost consciousness." Aevon asked, hoping Nevermore was well.

|| Continued from (x) || @caelmewedd

{🔥}—; "Names Spyro! But dragons are pretty different from one another, I'm not from around here." The little dragon was already aware that across several realms, dragons may not always be the same and some may either not speak at all, or have their own tongue.

"I found you out in the meadow over there, looked like you were hurt so I brought ya over here where it was safer until you woke up." Spyro told her as he watched her try to stand.

[sinkix]

☆ Haikyuu!! │ Boys as your roommate HC’S │ Ft Nishinoya, Akaashi, Oikawa & Hinata ☆

Okay this is a small little shit post idea that I had and it’s 2am SO it’s high-key messy and chaotic but HEY when am I not? I swear I’ll sleep after this I promise.

E N J O Y ~ <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Nishinoya: 

SO!!!! FUCKING!!!1 LOUD!!!11!!

AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAY.

definitely blasts music first thing in the morning to get hype so be prepared for that.

y’all definitely have a designated day for movie nights and just overall vibing.

Often drags you to volleyball practise with him bc why not

both of y’all hate cleaning so it’s usually just a chaotic mess

but you both know where everything is so like whats the point in cleaning up???

can and will wake you up at random hours in the night

literally it will be 3am and he will come into your room and ask you the meaning of life or a cheesy pick up line he read on ifunny.

not even kidding.

sometimes you both end up crashing together bc you spend nearly all night playing video games and talking.

so again, expect random poking and prodding in the middle of the night for more nonsensical questions

when he sleeps though, he’s out like a LIGHT

homeboy fucking SNORES

SO. DAMN. LOUD

it’s actually really cute

rolling slumber

you get to see hair-down noya a lot and its *chef kiss*

will always cheer you up after a bad day and sometimes leaves little notes lying on the kitchen counter as motivation.

is your hype man for when your picking out outfits for the day or an important event/party. 

actually has really good taste in fashion??? so you know you can always trust his input.

you mostly eat out or order in because neither of you can cook for shit.

the last time you both attempted the kitchen nearly went up in flames.

just kidding, it did.

 never have you been so grateful for the invention of fire extinguishers. 

some got in noya’s hair and it looked so scuffed lol.

Akaashi:

such a chill rooomate, my god.

you spend most evenings on the couch just watching shows or talking about your day, akaashi is a straight up vibe machine and his presence is v soothing.

a really good cook?? so it’s always a nice surprise when you come home and dinner is already made

remembers all your favourite foods and meals so if he senses you’re down he will make them for you.

fuckin angel bro I swear.

most of the time you just eat in comfortable silence or you’ll listen to akaashi talk about the team.

he’s usually your alarm clock since he wakes up around the same time as you and being the responsible boi he is always makes sure to wake you up too.

bless his soul

sometimes you’ll have little jam out sessions if one or both of you are feeling sad

instantly 1000x better

aside from being the occasional goof he’s honestly pretty quiet for the most part

sometimes you’ll forget he’s at home and just bust out the weirdest moves or start talking to yourself and he’ll walk in the room like ????? you good ?????

he’s caught you several times just narrating your inner monologue 

definitely teases you about it

like he’ll just quote a random thing you had mumbled to yourself before just to see you squirm

low-key a little shit lmao

he is pretty tidy and has no problems cleaning up so the house is usually orderly and clean, you both take turns doing chores and pitch in to do your part

sometimes he’ll tease you if you forgot to do the dishes but then go and do them himself

so cute man ihefjwjkfkjef

sometimes y’all will clean together and just dance to music around the house while doing so

sometimes bokuto drops by and all calm atmosphere is instantly shattered but it’s okay bc he’s babi and you appreciate the hype atmosphere he brings.

well, maybe not akaashi bc he has to deal with it 24/7 but still 

you and bokuto get on v well so he makes more frequent visits now and you three will go out to eat or just sit and watch volleyball tournaments on TV. 

sometimes bokuto will make you both re watch their old matches, screaming “YOU SEE THAT AKAASHIIIIIII??!!11″ 

“yes bokuto-san.”  

aside from that just an overall very chill household.

Oikawa:

such a little shit lmao

will wake you up by throwing a pillow at your head screaming “WAKE UP (Y/N)-CHAN!!!!!” at the top of his lungs

like tooru sis it’s 7am

Sometimes you’ll drop by practise in the evening to bring snacks and walk him home

he goes all soft and makes sure to be extra nice that night

y’all are hella close and tell each other EVERYTHING

Iwazumi appreciates you SO much bc ur able to tame Oikawa’s occasionally bratty and snarky attitude so it’s less work for him.

there’s a rumour you’re dating but neither of you have addressed it bc you both find it funny.

and idk maybe you are ??? not even you two know at this point

his fangirls get hella jealous whenever you show up lolololol.

oikawa can KIND of cook

and by kind of i mean just throw shit in the oven for like 30 min and bone apple teeth.

so you usually just go to restaurants or do basic cooking

it’s always hella fun cooking with oikawa 

sometimes you’ll buy those ready-made kid baking sets to make some brownies with minimal effort

this bitch will always flick the fucking spoon at you

then SWIPE IT OFF UR CHEEK AND EAT IT

he always flashes his signature wink, sticking out his tongue.

you just sigh and hope he gets salmonella.

speaking of sickness, once oikawa got a cold

you stayed off the day to look after him and he was SO. FUCKIN. DEMANDING.

“(Y/N)-chaannn!!! make me porridge!” 

“(y/N)-ChAAAaNn! can i have some medicine.”

“(YYYy/nNnNn)-ChAAAaaANNNn give me attention.”

ofc u gave it to him bc how can u say no

 was actually very grateful and kind to you with zero bratty behaviour so u like sick oikawa.

his normal self too, but you’ll never tell him that.

Hinata: 

LOUD????

not as bad as nishinoya, like he’ll have his quiet moments but still

VERY?? LOUD??? 

it’s hard to be in a bad mood around him honestly so you always look forward to going home and seeing his smiling face

sunshine™ here to brighten ur day

you’re usually the one that has to wake him up bc let’s face it he’s hopeless at being organised and getting up on time.

he was always used to Natsu waking him up so now you’re basically Natsu 2.0 in this regard.

you usually have to resort to shaking him vigorously for like 2 mins until he actually gets up.

once you deadass poured the water over his head that was sitting on his nightstand bc he refused to get up

needless to say he was far more willing after that

you 100% have karaoke sessions together in the morning  and belt the lyrics out, attempting to sync but failing miserably.

maybe you’ll get a record deal one day who knows

Hinata can and will give you a hug and motivational speech before you walk out the door

you often have to fix his appearance before he leaves

his shirt is usually tucked in at a weird angle or hella crumpled

his hair too, like you’ll have to flatten down extra wild strands since he usually forgets to brush it before heading out the door

bitch gets toothpaste marks EVERYWHERE 

like pretty much every place except his fuckin mouth lmao

you sometimes show up to practise to surprise him and he always gets extra hype after that since you offer to pay for food afterward.

y’all like taking late night walks in the park

boy gets scared easily though so prepare for him to leap in your arms like a scene from scooby-doo

definitely have a lot of late night convos, some really stupid and some surprisingly deep.

he’s actually a very thoughtful and layered person?? like under that chaotic and disorganised persona 

don’t even get me started on cooking.

you REFUSE to let him anywhere near the kitchen 

so you usually end up doing the food prep or again y’all just eat out

You both watch volleyball games on TV often and get HYPE AS HELL and yell at the TV vvv loud

once you actually received a noise complaint.

sometimes Kags will drop by because he left something at practise that Hinata had picked up for him.

you and Kags get on pretty well tbh like you both respect each other

he has no idea how you can live with Hinata and often refers to you as a saint

but who wouldn’t want to live with this bby ball of sunshine?

[caelmewedd]

starter! for @renfield-blues

The little girl Aevon furrowed her brow when she saw that Alicent was heading toward the fountain she was sitting at. She didn't know quite why but she felt strange every time the green woman was somewhere nearby. There was something about Alicent that bothered her and sent a cold shiver down her spine, sometimes she even joked to herself that she was an Ice Queen like the one from a fairy tale her older brother once told her. Maybe there was something to it. She could test it by using her magic to see what Alicent's heart was really like, but she wanted to observe her first.

"Ice Queen…'" Aevon whispered quietly as Alicent walked past her, and when she stopped she looked at her carefully.

[booksmarting]

            olympian aesthetics!

A P H R O D I T E  ——  laughter loving.  sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

A P O L L O  ——  glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

A R E S  ——  armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world . fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

A R T E M I S  ——  keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. dishevelled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

A T H E N A  ——  discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armour that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

D E M E T E R  ——  soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

D I O N Y S U S  ——  drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you���ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

H E P H A E S T U S  ——  the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

H E R A  ——  resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under ‘ fuck it ’. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

H E R M E S  ——  devil-may-care smile. always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.  

P O S E I D O N  ——  storm with skin. colourful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

Z E U S  ——  thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. un-natural charisma. eloquence. bad ass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high-rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by — @fatalelity, you ANGEL. tagging — @edhelaran, @elerondo, @crowwl, @cruelonlytobekind, @dulcisebrietatem, @emptysculs, @hismanners, @fencetm, @decrstalker, @dragvnflare, @womenwritten, @amrefevr, @drdumaurier, @thedestrcyer, @talktoten, @exilekniight, @kaztael, @holmesdepot, @hiddensteel, @telegion, @trickstercaptain, @warringpeace, @wordgave, @killthebxy​     &&     whoever else wants to do it   !!!   these are just the blogs i know off by heart because i stalk them BUT LITERALLY ANYONE I FOLLOW   !!!!!!!!!   consider yourself tagged   !!!!!!!

[erchommai-a]

‘ you’re not gentle with me & i would never ask you to be. ’

HE WAS FIVE, he remembers, when he’d found that tiny little bird atthe roots of one of the trees outside their cabin. He remembers thinking how itmust have broken his wing at how loudly it squawked when he tried stretchingit, bending it through and fro so recklessly. His regard for its ultimatehealth less important than his natural curiosity.

Actual life in his hands ratherthan weapons used to break it.

He still remembers feeling itwarm on his palm, watching its small lungs try to catch up on whatever it waschasing. Breath in and out as it struggled, tried to flap his wings and getaway, and then like a storm, thunder came rolling in. Valentine right behindhim and hands clasping tightly around the small feathered creature. He felt itsquirm and bite at his fingers, small talons digging into the heels of hispalm. But his expression revealed nothing beyond the struggling hidden in hisclasp.

It stops struggling by the timehis Father manages to pull the truth out of him.

Life evaporating right at hisfingertip.

VALENTINE’S VOICE SPEAKS LOUDER TO HIM IN THIS MOMENT,confusion sostark in his eyes. Bright blazing dark storms hidden behind obsidian pupils.His heart a paperweight in his chest. She stays standing in the middle of theroom, their shadows playing beside them, dancing to the rise and fall of theflame in the fire place. His surreptitiously trying to consume hers.

L o v e  d e s t r o y s.

How many more times must he keephearing it? The obvious warning, the underlying threat, the promise ofdestruction that both rings sweet in his ear but bitter on his tongue now whenhe knows its target is the little warlock in the middle of the room. Her huestake him in, knowing in a way that is never quite as malicious as his own.Never as calculating. Never with the d i s d a i n he has come to expect.  Or just as his Father had taught him to.

Tonight it was curious, almostconcerned, maybe.

It was unnerving to stand PREDATOR to a PREY he almost didn’twant to hurt. Not to the point of murder. Just enough to see how much she wouldbreak; where the line of her loyalty would end between his father and himself ;if she meant it every time she said she’d never leave him. Not like her. Notlike him. Not like any of them. And put her back together again.

ITS HER WORDS HOWEVER THAT TILTS HIS HEAD. Her shrouded in darknessin her approach, hand resting on his chest as the other practically claws onthe nape of his neck. Tugging him down, bowing his whole body to her, and ifhis knees weren’t locked, he might have knelt and consumed her then and there.But they hover in the moment, fingers snaking into pale tresses and tuggingsharply — hard enough to catch a snarl in his throat.

His action, to him, is justified then when arm is twisted hard behind her. A blade pressed against her throat. His lips brushing over her neck as he tilts the knife just enough to catch a drop of blood on the blade and release her.

       “  Careful. I haven’t offered one or the other quite yet. “

GRAVE SUGGESTION EDITION . @tempestbrought​​ . closed.

[caelmewedd]

Sketch of Nevermore

[caelmewedd]

@okruchlodu

The little elf squealed as she groggily slowly started to get up and sit on the bed. The wild magic that had thrown her to an unknown place was still buzzing in her head so strongly that she could barely see her immediate surroundings. The lady she was trying to look at seemed to be a blurry blur before her eyes. When the mysterious woman started shouting at her, the little girl covered her already sensitive pointy ears. To her, this scream was like the scream of a bruxa trying to stun its prey. "Please, not so loud!" She screamed as she rocked on the bed, trying to recover from the wild teleportation. She shook her head desperately, trying to get rid of the buzzing feeling in her head and ears. Out of exhaustion, she fell onto the soft bed and curled into a tight ball, as if instinctively trying to defend herself.

After a few minutes, the noise in her head slowly began to disappear, and visual perception also began to return to normal. She heard the screams again and slowly the words began to reach her. Who are you? She heard it first, slowly and carefully, she tried to get up and once again look at the person who shouted at her so terribly. That someone was a woman, tall, pale, with long black hair and purple eyes that looked eerie at the moment. "I…I'm Aevon." The little elf replied quietly, feeling a little dizzy again, but trying to stay upright.

Aevon narrowed her eyes slightly and began to inspect the woman who was still screaming at her like crazy. The little elf didn't understand why this strange lady was shouting at her as if she had destroyed her entire house. Her small, pointy ears twitched slightly, and she reached out again to cover her right ear, which was starting to ring again. “Why are you…so loud? Shhhh...Please...My head...” Aevon muttered to herself in a daze and then tried to get out of bed, but another wave of dizziness knocked her to the ground. "Where am I? This…isn’t my…home?” She asked, lifting her head and looking at the ghostly, black-haired woman.

The little elven girl sat in her room trying magic with little success. She knew she had magical abilities, but all she could do with magic was to heal simple wounds. She heard many stories from her father, a powerful sage who saw other worlds. She also wanted to move to another place, maybe even meet another person who likes magic. She closed her eyes, concentrating very hard on imagining the place where she would like to be, felt her reach to the source of her older power and felt something thrashing wildly with her and landing on something…soft? She opened her eyes and found that she was lying on the bed, gently turned her head and looked at the sleeping, beautiful raven haired woman who opened her violet eyes.

“Uhmm…Hello. I’m so sorry, my lady.“ The little elf whispered softly, feeling that the raven-haired woman was also a mage. She didn’t want to wake her up. This was not the place she wanted to be at all. "I didn’t want to disturb you. I swear it.”

A strange, sharp vibration in the night air spilling in through the half-open window (soft and sweet with her perfume) heralds an unexpected arrival: Yennefer moans and stirs amid the thick furs that cover her; she is not yet awake, yet every last inch of her body is wholly aware of that which is to come; the child comes rushing through some malformed portal and tossed onto her bed, and the enchantress groans, lashes fluttering open, vexed by the disturbance; a sharp exhale, and she is violently pulled out of her slumber, and shocked into wakefulness. A pale triangular face, violet eyes and narrow, slightly contorted lips appear beneath masses of black tresses; the strange child sat near her atop her bed has a glimpse of blazing violet eyes and then, the sorceress is forcefully pulling away from it, shocked at its abrupt appearance, cursing through her teeth and leaping out of the bed, eyes sharp and cold as she pierces it with a glare. The sorceress, still muddled with sleep, observes the child in silence, narrowing her eyes. Is it an elf? half dazed from her slumber, still, she wonders in some astonishment, glimpsing through the shadows that envelope them its face, its vibrant, curious eyes, radiating with magic. Heavens! Could she not get a moment's peace any more?

Yennefer, upright and threatening, with an authoritative, sharp expression sprawling across her fair face (unnaturally beautiful, radiating with power) demands Who are you? her voice dark with anger that this stranger has disturbed her peace and sleep in such frustrating a manner. Without taking her eyes off the girl, she picks a black, velvet coat with a fur collar up off the floor and wraps herself up in it tightly, eyes flaming. ❝ How did you get in here? Speak, child, and quickly! ❞ the sorceress demands sharply soon after, wondering where she had come from and for what reason; some part of her, too, is already on edge, alert, half expecting it to prove itself to be something else entirely. If that is the case, she shall not hesitate to end its miserable existence with naught more than the flick of her wrist.

The low, dim glow of the furnace casts strange shadows upon the enchantress' face, making her appear simultaneously beautiful, ravishingly radiant, and yet, menacing, too, a sharp shard of ice. ❝ speak! ❞ she orders calmly, stood unwaveringly near the bed.

@caelmewedd

[aras-charas]

Varianna Korinda Degaldo Pierce

Nickname(s): Vari, VP {FC:  Liv Tyler & Jessica de Gouw (Younger Version)} 27 | April 27, 1691 | Taurus

T H E   B A S I C S

Born April 27th in Barcelona, Spain Species: Human, Phoenix Gender: Female Sexual orientation: Bisexual Religion: Nonreligious Spoken Languages: English, Spanish Current residency: the Caribbean Occupation: Pirate

P H Y S I C A L   T R A I T S

Eyes: Hazel Hair: Brown Height: 5’10”

Weight: 129 lbs Tattoos + piercings: Ears double pierced, Rose tattoo (inner right hip)

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Intelligence: Average Favorite color: Red Likes: Alcohol, card games, cigarettes, the color red, the ocean, traditional Spanish cuisine, rollercoasters Dislikes: Her younger sister, spiders Disposition: Moody and temperamental, tends to lash out when aggravated or upset.  Does not rein in her emotions. Hobbies: Cooking, dancing, sailing

B I R T H   C H A R T

Sun Sign: Taurus Moon Sign: Pisces Rising Sign: Virgo

V A R I A N N A ' S   S T O R Y

Varianna Korinda Degaldo Pierce was born in Barcelona, Spain on April 27th, 1691. During this time, her family was considered lower-middle class, barely making enough to support themselves and own a house. Due to the mixed cultures of her parents, she was taught both Spanish and English at an early age. Because Vari's mother, Maribel, wanted the best for her children, she had Varianna privately home-schooled during their time in Spain. When Vari was eight, she learned that her Aunt Clarisa had died. At her funeral, Vari watched Maribel lash out and accuse Clarisa's husband, Roberto, of killing her sister (Vari's aunt). While he continued to feign innocence, Maribel insisted there was no other way that Clarisa could have died. She cursed him before taking Varianna and Keyara by the hand and leading them away. Promptly after the funeral, the Pierce family left Spain on a passenger ship headed for the Caribbean. Here, Peter and Maribel decided their daughters would have better lives away from the misfortune they encountered back home. However, things did not go exactly as planned. Peter and Maribel had a difficult time finding well-paying jobs, and their family was reduced to living in a small shack on the outskirts of town. When Vari was thirteen, her mother fell ill with the flu. Because there was no cure at the time, Maribel passed away four days later. After her mother's death, things began to spiral out of control. Peter developed a terrible drinking habit that ultimately lead to his death and Keyara ran away from home. Now on her own, Varianna set about trying to find a way to support herself. She gathered her belongings and took to the streets, trying to find a job so she could afford to eat. No one considered hiring her, mostly due to her appearance and the fact she was a young girl without many working skills. As a last resort, she began to steal; some bread here, some pork there, until finally it became a habit. The Navy never suspected her, although many shopkeepers were wary. Living in the streets, Vari inevitably heard many stories of pirates and the profits they turned. While it was looked down upon, Vari could not help but be intrigued by it. Her parents had once lived that lifestyle, and perhaps she would have as much luck. After stealing a map from a local cartographer, she set her eyes on the island of Tortuga - a true pirate port. At the age of 18, Varianna finally left Port Royal and bartered her way to Tortuga, where she quickly gained a reputation; whether good or bad, she had made a name for herself as the young Spanish flame, not to be intimidated. This lead to several opportunities to crew on notorious ships that didn't mind having a woman on board. But Varianna wanted a ship of her own, and that's what she got. The Phoenix was originally a merchant ship, but with a few simple modifications, became Varianna's first vessel, of which she claimed the title Captain. But a captain was nothing without a crew, so she put out a roster and chose which men she thought would be perfect to man the ship. One of the main reasons so many joined up was not the fact she was a female, but rather that the pay was good and Varianna was fair when it came to rules and regulations on board. She never demanded too much nor forced those to work when it was not needed. The men did not complain and for a while it went well, even to the point where Varianna had begun to befriend some of the men, laugh and have a few drinks with them like everyone had always been acquainted and got along fine. One man in particular had caught her eye from the beginning - Richard Chandler, a rather handsome gent with many years of experience at sea. He was appointed the title of First Mate on the Phoenix and Varianna found herself spending more and more time with him. Months passed until Richard had finally come out and told Varianna that he was smitten with her. The feeling mutual, Varianna and Richard promised themselves to each other; they would be married and the young Spaniard would become Varianna Chandler. One night while the crew of the Phoenix slept, they came under attack by the East India Trading Company. The flagship, the Endeavour, advanced upon them swiftly and eventually overtook them, capturing the Phoenix's crew and her captain with ease. Varianna watched as Richard struggled against Lord Cutler Beckett's men and was shot point blank in the head, the horrifying sight too much to bear for the young woman. During the chaos and confusion of battle, another one of Varianna's crew took her by the arm and jumped into the water, taking her with him. Edward Blackhaven had saved her from what would have ultimately been a death sentence, but at the time Varianna did not know he would have such a huge impact upon her life. A year passed. Varianna had survived, but had been separated from Edward by the strong tides after the Phoenix was attacked and destroyed. Now she had temporarily settled in the Puerto Rican island of Culebra, taking up an alias and pretending to be a man to avoid drawing the wrong sort of attention. Degaldo Santiago was the alias she had chosen. It worked for some time, but one night out of the blue, Varianna's cousin, Alejandro Gavilla arrived in town. He had not seen her since they were both children back in Barcelona, but he quickly saw through Vari's disguise and seduced her with his charm and far too much alcohol. Drunk, Vari's lack of judgement caused her to be easily swayed by Alejandro and the two shared a passionate, sinful evening together. The next morning, to Vari's shock and horror, she found Alejandro in her bed and freaked out, promptly becoming angered to the point of threatening to kill him. Weeks later, it became obvious that now she had a problem - Alejandro had impregnated her. With no control over the situation, Varianna accepted the fact that she was going to have a baby, even if it was fathered by her own cousin. Nine months later, the little bundle arrived: Leonardo Pierce-Gavilla, named after their mutual grandfather. Varianna and Alejandro took care of the child, but fate intervened and Leonardo passed away after several weeks. Needless to say, the new mother was devastated, and for the first time, she watched Alejandro show emotions so deep that he came to the brink of tears. The loss quickly turned from devastation to anger. Alejandro and Varianna began blaming each other for the child's death, splitting an even larger rift between them. For many years, they did not speak. Vari left the Spanish settlement and Alejandro behind, choosing to forget everything that happened there. In need of yet another fresh start, Vari took up her disguise and cautiously made her way to Port Royal. Even though she had been considered dead for a few years, there would be no taking chances. Once there, she settled in to life as a man once more, claiming to be Degaldo Santiago of Barcelona, son of a shipwright. She procured a job working at the docks, seeing to minor ship repairs and tending cargo. Much of the knowledge she gained would later help Vari in the ways of sailing. A year or two passed and still no one suspected Varianna of being a woman, for she had played it very close to the vest, even going so far as to cut her hair boyishly short. The money that came in as a result of working the docks was saved up in her middle-class house until she felt she was nearing enough to buy a new ship and head back out to the open seas as Captain Pierce. A few days short of her 23rd birthday, Varianna had her first run-in with the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow. It was extremely rare to find a pirate here, for the Royal Navy had made a point of keeping piracy out of the streets. However, that did not stop Jack from breaking into a nobleman's house to steal some sort of artifact. As he was making his way towards the docks, Varianna saw her chance and took it, helping him to escape. The two became allies, although while Vari would pledge loyalty to Jack, he would not think twice of betraying her if it meant benefiting himself.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

| Mother: Maribel Pierce (née Degaldo) | Father: Peter Pierce | | Siblings: Keyara Pierce | | Main Pairing: None | | Children: None | | Others |

Andrea Costello-Nightingale - Friend

Aurora-Rose Delour - Friend

[existence-overwhelming]

Voice of the Shadows

Starter for @deathsculptor​!

                       }}– 🌌  –{{

While that which presided over all busies itself with the constant monitoring and managing of the whole of existence, the Void was apt to lap against the protective shells of Reality Clusters. Some of which had hairline fractures which spiraled across their surfaces like a gossamer web, allowing spindly fingers of the whole to poke and prod through until its abyssal black essence crept through the highway of souls, the dreamscape. But it was not out of its own dogged determination that such an event occurred. Nay, it was always due to the mandate of the Almighty, That One Who Wove the Code--the duality of creation demanded there to be instances of existence in which the Void broke through and mingled with the contents of the realities within a Cluster.  One such Cluster, among the select few that developed an overall nondestructive bond with the Void, coexisted with the few invasive fingers it managed to fit into the precious pearl. Coexisted in such a way that their very presence became second nature as if they’d always been present. And as such, new realities began to pop into being in direct response to the whole new host of possibilities opened up to the Cluster.  These hosted worlds of extraordinary abilities and horrific creatures beyond the imaginings of mortal men--things that’d drive you mad with so much as a glance at them. Physics and the laws of the world bent the knee in response to the Void’s distorting presence, fabricating new rules to bind the nigh-magical properties that the abyss’ fingers brought with them. New civilizations rose up from the shadow-cast realities, ones of a bizarre alien nature that was dependent on the powers bestowed unto them by the Void. They developed technological feats of wonder, each fueled by its darkness and insanity.  Verily, these new entities employed what one might refer to as “magic” to do what science could not by its lonesome. And due to the chaotic nature of these “magics” and what fueled them, they spilled into and plagued the lives of worlds that did not spawn from their pitch-black touch. Pulling them into their sadistic games, breaking their minds, binding them and whatever else the writhing collective of the Void desired.  Our story begins in the middle of one such instance.

The dark of night encroached upon the waning daylight as shades of indigo and dark blue clashed with reds and oranges and yellows, interspersed with the darkening cottony clouds of the dusk sky. Avian chirps and caws were replaced with the symphony of crickets and other nocturnal insectoids, meanwhile, the chilly zephyr whistled between the leaves and needles of the surrounding woodlands. Every inch given up by the sun caused the shadows of the world to lengthen and stretch their wicked fingers across the verdant ground, all in a mindless scramble to prey upon those unprotected by some third-party source of illumination. These shadows danced and undulated in ways one might consider unnatural if they were not familiar with the realm they resided in. And they crept ever closer to the unlit campfire and those who stood around it.  Among these individuals was a prideful scientist, a pyromaniac of a petite woman, a man with a magnificent orange beard and a use-worn axe slung over his side and a little blonde girl. They’re names were Wilson, Willow, Woodie and Wendy respectively.  With the aid of Willow, Wilson was worrying away at a stick, some dried leaves, pine cones and a rock and flint. They’d lost the lighter the woman always kept on hand a day prior, so they needed to rely on more crude methods to start their only protection from nighttime. Each strike of the dulling tip of the flint against the rough surface of the rock begot a spittle of sparks that danced through the air and disappeared upon contact with one of the leaves and the stick.  One strike, two, three, and nothing.  The lengthening claws of the shadows reached ever closer to the group’s campsite.  Panic began to set in as Wilson frantically flicked the flint against the rock again and again. Each time produced a spurt of sparks, but the vivid motes of light simply refused to catch on the dry kindling. Was he doing something wrong? Had the showers of several days past left the surroundings still too damp to produce fire easily? No, that couldn’t be it--they managed to start one the night before without Willow’s lighter. So why wouldn’t--  Success!  After a particularly hard swipe across the white-scratched marred face of the stone, a spray of bright orange-red particles cascaded along the amassed leaves. They remained, though, whereas every other attempt succumbed to the cold elements and fizzled out. Then a wispy plume of gray smoke trailed up from several spots, the affected region of each leaf crackling and curling in as red and orange quickly waned to a charred black as it expanded outward.  Excitement spread across the scientist’s face for all of a moment before it contorted anew with worry. He cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed onto the aforementioned spots, trying to feed oxygen to the unborn flame.  “Willow, someone, help me!” the scientist exclaimed, glancing back for but a second before returning to nurse the now flickering tongue of heat that was quickly consuming its small pile of fuel.  Woodie stepped forward before Willow, faint annoyance on her face, jerked forward and dropped to her knees next to the ring of rocks encircling the campfire. She shouldered the lithe man aside with a firm, “Move aside,” before reaching forward and scooting the pile of pine cones and leaves forward, into the alcove made into the much larger arrangement of sticks. There wasn’t so much as a grimace as her fingers touched the flickering flame.  She then reached back, doing as Wilson had been doing meanwhile,  and took a clump of dead grass woven around a ball of queer pink sludge out from a pocket on her shirt’s breast. And without a moment of hesitation, she shoved the concoction in with the now dying tongue before covering the hole with both hands.  In an instant, there was a great fwoosh! and the once insignificant tongue roared to life as a monstrous inferno that was only just bridled by its dugout pit and perimeter of stones. The fire writhed around the hands and forearms of its mother, licking up past her elbow and enveloping the whole of the faggot in moments. Its light shunted away the creeping shadows as the flame crackled and popped in excitement.  “Good work, Willow, guess it’s just business as usual for you though, eh?” Woodie said with a chuckle.  “Not in the mood.” Willow’s tone was venomous and irate, had been ever since she lost her lighter. “You go rest for the night, I’ll stay up with the fire--that includes you, Wendy.”  She then jerked her head in the other direction and shot a glare at Wilson, who recoiled at the leer, “And let me work with the fire next time.”  “Alright, sorry...” he murmured while rubbing his arm.   Then Woodie and Wilson went to the nearby chests and pulled out their sleeping bags, Wilson bringing Wendy’s to her like the gentleman he perceived himself as.  “Hey, do you think you can tell me what you--”  “Tomorrow, Wilson--go to sleep!”  And with that, the man zipped his mouth shut and rolled out his bedroll some feet away from where Woodie, who was already sprawled out and snoring away whilst cuddling with his ax, was sleeping. He waved goodnight to Wendy and said goodnight to Willow, who responded with a huff, before laying his head down and closing his sunken and baggy eyes. Thus leaving Wendy and Willow by themselves with the only company being the flickering fire, which the woman kept a vigilant eye on, and the dancing margins of where the shadows were kept at bay.  But as the night progressed, it became overt that the fire was not the only thing that wanted to speak--nay, the shadows, too, they had something to say. Their voices, though, were incredulously faint, barely above a whisper. And there were so many of them, all conversing with one another at the very edge of the light’s radius as a hushed chorus of gibberish that, if one got closer and spent time truly listening, might be understood.