#And the reason i know they are wrong and they are aiding the Enemy

[illiterateaffairs]

a simple favor | stiles x reader

masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 7,120

warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)

summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.

author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)

“Hi!”

“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance. 

He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you. 

And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world. 

“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”

“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”

Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”

“I need your help with a spell.”

“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”

“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”

Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game. 

Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go. 

You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished. 

From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off. 

He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family. 

That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.

“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.

You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”

“My house.” 

“You’re taking me to your lair?”

“Ha ha.”

“I don’t even know where you live.” 

“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.” 

“You live in the woods?”

“Just drive.”

Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live. 

From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust. 

But he thinks he can survive one evening with you. 

The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio. 

You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station. 

Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”

“Turn left at the stop sign.”

“Right.”

You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”

Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”

You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”

“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”

“Because you’re a human.”

“Okay…?”

“And I need your blood.”

“Oh great.”

“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.” 

“And why do you need that?”

“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”

Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees. 

“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”

“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep. 

Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later. 

“Is your aunt home?”

“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter. 

Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase. 

“Um, where are we going exactly?”

“My room,” You call without turning around.

“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”

“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”

Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.

No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.

“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot. 

Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”

“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”

“Something like that.”

You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.

Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”

You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”

“But why me?”

“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”

You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”

“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”

“You should be.”

“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”

“Why? What happened to your parents?”

You swallow, “You’re nosy.”

“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”

“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”

“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”

You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face. 

You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”

I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients. 

“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”

I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”

I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit. 

Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”

You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”

“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”

You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”

Stiles rolls his eyes this time.

I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”

“I’d kind of like to see-”

“Reminder, I can kill you.”

“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”

“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.

“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”

“Okay, just stab me already.”

You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is. 

“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment. 

“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”

“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”

“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.” 

“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?” 

“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”

“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming. 

“When did you…” Stiles whispers.

I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”

Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?

“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.

“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks. 

“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood. 

Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound. 

“There, good as new.” 

You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently. 

“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”

Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”

I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together. 

Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”

“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”

Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”

I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed. 

When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it. 

“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.

You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”

Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck. 

He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”

You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”

“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”

You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”

Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”

You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”

Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell. 

As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin. 

“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”

Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”

I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”

Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”

You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”

Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”

“I have a few more questions.”

“Haven’t I told you enough?”

“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”

“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”

“By…telling Scott…”

You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”

“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?” 

You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”

“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”

“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”

“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”

“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.” 

Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”

I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”

Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario. 

“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.

Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”

“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”

“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”

“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”

“Did you tell him where you were from?”

“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”

Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”

“Yup.”

“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?” 

You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”

Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”

“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”

You make a face but don’t argue with him.

Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”

Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Thanks…”

The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.

“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”

Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”

“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”

Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”

“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”

“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?” 

I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”

Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”

“No, I just meant you could do better.”

Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”

You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”

“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”

“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”

“What…What do you mean?”

“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”

“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”

“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”

You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”

Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”

“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.” 

Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”

“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”

“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”

“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”

Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”

“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”

Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”

You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”

You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.

Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber. 

Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you. 

It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock. 

Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.” 

Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.

For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously. 

You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”

Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again. 

This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist. 

As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.

He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.

“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”

“To make out with a hot person?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.” 

You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.

“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”

Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out. 

“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”

The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.

You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”

“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.

“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.

“You’d really want to do this too?”

“Yes-”

“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”

“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”

“And you want to be with me? Why?”

“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”

Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation. 

“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement. 

“I’m in if you’re in.”

“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”

You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”

Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.

After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”

“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”

Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”

He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.

“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”

Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”

You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”

Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”

You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed. 

Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay. 

You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling. 

You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”

You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.

“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”

You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”

“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”

“I know you did.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”

“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”

“Stiles!”

“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”

He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”

“This was better.” 

He turns to you again in surprise. 

“You were better.”

Stiles stutters, “R-really?”

You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”

Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again. 

“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can’t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”

That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for. 

But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.

“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath. 

He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on. 

You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again. 

As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away. 

“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”

Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”

You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back. 

“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”

Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”

You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”

You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time. 

Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.

With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had. 

“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door. 

Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again. 

It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.

Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.

author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!

[steeb-stn]

i hope the guys telling everyone that women older than 30 are unattractive and are going to be sad and alone their whole lives and are bad people for choosing career over family- i hope those guys know that they are literally doing the Devil’s work

[amywritesthings]

in the wrong. / levi x f!reader

for @levievent #levimonth24. (day one: pre-canon, first time)

pairing: gang leader!levi ackerman x military police!reader word count: 2.4k summary: You're Military Police. He's public enemy number one. Getting involved with one another is wrong.

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, in the canon of 'a choice with no regrets', smut, enemies to lovers, military brutality mention, first time, bottom!levi, virgin!levi credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

And so it goes—

There’s no disputing if waiting here in the dead of night is right or wrong.

Leaving your post, forcing your colleagues to pick up the slack — it’ll catch up with you eventually.

Military Police stationed within the Underground City is about as much of an oxymoron as it comes. You see the irony of walking these streets as the symbols of order when it’s a place that thrives in disorder. 

Your superiors don’t wish to save these people.

You — your squadron — will do nothing here.

(But he could.)

Meeting with the leader of the most notorious gang in the city started out as an accident, really. 

You’d minded yourself down here, still trying to do your job when you could: helping elderly people walk their rotting groceries to their door; aiding a young child who found themselves lost, only to witness the dilapidated home they came from; smuggling your own rations down from the surface to feed the sick.

In their eyes — wrong.

In his — confusion.

If you ever came into contact with the perpetrator known as Levi, then you were meant to engage.

Albeit fast on his feet and even faster with a weapon, his ever-growing group of goons were the Military Police’s biggest enemy.

You’d just spotted a redhead doing her best to creep up one of the staircases towards the surface, assuming no one was watching.

There are people up there, you remember saying.

Her wide eyes stared back at you with uncertainty, like perhaps getting her attention was a trick to set her up, but you’d managed to grab her by the scruff of her dirtied vest.

The small girl made a noise of protest, but you did your best to press a finger to your lips:

Silent.

Pulling her back into the shadows with you had been the smart move — the unit at the top of the stairs trudged down the stairs and into the Underground pathway, presumably to cause trouble.

They always did.

You held onto the stranger until the unit disappears, letting go only once the place is clear. 

The girl turned around, seemingly breathless. “You… why?”

You didn't know.

“I don’t know,” you confessed, blinking between her face and the pathway. Paranoid. “Those two are pieces of work. Nasty. Would’ve had your damn head on a platter.”

“So you saved my life?” she asked, and the musical naivety of her voice squeezed your aching stomach.

“It wasn’t that noble,” you promised softly. “Just… be more careful.”

She realized as seconds pass: you’re letting her go.

There’s nothing to arrest her for.

The people down here suffer enough.

When she left, you thought it was the last time you’d ever see her.

.

.

— —

.

.

  It isn’t.

.

.

— —

.

.

  “The hell is an MP doing here, Isa?” 

You can’t say. You’re not sure.

The redhead, a common recurring figure in your time patrolling the Underground, seems to have taken a liking to you when she surely shouldn’t.

Isabel Magnolia, you learn, is her name.

Talking to you about her life, asking questions about the surface, wondering if there’s a better life up there—

She’s a part of a found family she definitely shouldn’t be telling you about.

You explain that, while the sun is beautiful, the surface isn’t much better sometimes.

If there’s a better life, then clearly you wouldn’t know it.

You’re stuck down here, too, whether you’d like to admit it or not.

Perhaps by choice — you enlisted for a reason — but nonetheless stuck.

She’s so cheerful. Trusting. 

You hate that for her.

(Someone could take advantage. Doesn’t she know that?)

Yet when Isabel grabs your hand one day and excitedly pulls you down an alleyway, telling you she has to show you something, you wonder if this is the moment where your stupidity catches up to you with a final blow to the head.

So it begs the question while you’re standing in an oddly pristine, clean-to-the-edges apartment in the middle of the city where two boys stare at you like you’re the devil incarnate:

What the hell is an MP doing here?

An ashy-haired boy yelps from his spot at a round dining table, catching a second dark-haired boy’s attention. He whips around, the whites of his eyes growing while he stares directly at you.

Immediately you recognize the cold stare, the raven-black fringe sweeping against them.

A smaller frame for a man but nevertheless daunting.

Billowing white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His hands are busy scrubbing dishes at the sink of their quaint kitchenette.

The one they call Levi.

“This is the girl who saved me a few months ago,” Isabel chirps like it’s nothing, happily tugging you further into the apartment.

Your uniform feels constricting, like it’s threatening to choke you out.

“You never said it was a goddamn MP, Isa,” the lankier boy whisper-shouts as he stands from the table, his head whipping between the other two. “Levi? The hell do we do?”

Levi’s silent, observing you.

“Isabel, I should go,” you murmur to your odd friend, looking over the ginger warily. “They’re right. I shouldn’t be here.”

“But why not?” Isabel asks with confusion. “You’re not like them. Furlan, she’s really not, she’s actually really—”

“You’re the one who saved her ass from MPs?”

Levi’s voice, smooth like honey and deep like a rumble, cuts through your panic.

You turn your chin to regard him, lips parted with an apology you shouldn’t owe.

“She was getting too close to the stairwell,” you confess softly to him, clenching your fists at your sides. “I know how the MPs treat people down here. I didn’t — I couldn’t let something happen to her.”

“Why?” he asks abruptly, eyes narrowing.

Isn’t that the question of the hour:

Why are you trying to get yourself fired and tossed down here with the rest of them?

“Because it… was the right thing to do.”

He makes a noise, something of a tch, before picking up a fourth tea cup.

.

.

— —

.

.

  If your colleagues knew you spent the better part of your shifts in the Underground talking to their number-one public enemy, with your backs against adjacent brick walls — you facing the street, him in the shadows of an alleyway — they wouldn’t hesitate.

Execution style, side by side.

You confess the routes of your brethren.

You warn them of the dangers of different colleagues that want nothing more than to hurt people, to use their position of power for worse.

It takes time — months upon months — but eventually his group grows stronger than your unit.

They could very well kill you themselves, if they wanted.

Maybe you’re like Isabel with the desperation to connect.

Maybe you find yourself hating the animals your colleagues become under the guise of an endless night.

Levi meets with you weekly, if not daily, by this point.

For the good of his friends, he claims. Nothing more.

You don’t blame him.

(Yet the more you talk to him, learn about what he’s built, what he’s about, the less you feel like returning to the sun.)

.

.

— —

.

.

  He likes tea.

That much you’ve gathered in your time sitting in the living kitchenette of their apartment.

You’ll never forget the change in his expression, usually so stoic and emotionless, when you produced a small bag from under your emerald cloak late one evening.

“The traders down here don’t carry these blends,” you tell him, pushing the bag towards him.

His eyes squint, observing the brown pouch with confusion, before reaching to delicately unravel the tie holding it together.

Levi lets out a gentle huff when the aroma hits him, face smoothing with recognition.

Fresh leaves. 

“Why?”

It’s a question you’ve even asked yourself.

You get things for Furlan and Isabel all the time, their requests for surface goods fairly frequent, but—

“Because you never ask for anything,” you confess. “And it’s the least I can do.”

“But why?” he questions again, softer this time.

His gaze flickers to yours.

Your throat clenches with the truth.

“I don’t know.”

A lie.

.

.

— —

.

.

  You’re meant to be patrolling the streets of the Underground City in the dead of night.

Another lie.

All you’ve learned to do is hide, steal, and lie.

Yet nothing feels closer to the truth than Levi letting you into the small, cramped apartment.

Opening his home to you.

The enemy.

“Furlan and Isabel are elsewhere tonight,” he confesses under his breath when he closes the door.

“Elsewhere?” you ask him quietly. “Are they safe?”

“You would know if they weren’t.”

You step forward, anticipating the same song and dance you’ve played for over a year now.

Instead of dancing with you, playing the game, Levi stays put. 

It forces you chest to chest, eye to eye, and suddenly you realize just how blue those gray eyes really are.

Stormy, like a sky he’ll never see.

Something shifts in his expression. Something lighter, tangible, as he takes a slow inhale through his nose.

You shift on impulse, angling closer, until you feel the heat of his face.

“Can’t,” he states, like you know what he’s saying.

By now, you do.

“I know,” you whisper, and those eyes dart lower.

Cheeks.

Nose.

Lips.

“Shouldn’t,” he argues to no one but himself when he leans closer. 

His breath tickles your face.

“Wrong,” you agree, accidentally brushing your lips to his.

A single act opens the floodgates.

Both pairs of hands jump as your lips smash into one another’s.

His palm cradles the back of your head while yours guides his cheek closer, directing the angle of the kiss.

With a purposeful push, he slams you into the front door, caging you in and causing stars to flash behind your eyelids.

You’re already undoing the straps of your uniform with haste — he may have stolen ODM gear in the time you’ve known him, but you’re not confident he knows how to disrobe a military uniform.

He seems grateful, because he grunts against your lips and flicks his tongue against your lower lip in thanks. You part your lips obediently.

Can’t, but you’re still hopping up into his arms the second you free your lower half of white uniform trousers.

Shouldn’t, but he catches you with ease, digging his free hand into the flesh of your ass while he pivots and walks with you in his arms.

Wrong, but he drops down to his couch anyway, letting you sit in his lap.

There’s no time for decorum.

His hand blindly dips down your lower belly and slips under the fabric of your panties, groaning when he realizes you’ve been wet since you saw him.

You make the tiniest noise, a strangled moan at best, and you feel it right against your lips:

A smirk. 

Brief and fleeting, but you felt it.

Lazily dragging his fingertips in a circle around your clit, your breath becomes stagnated. Shaky.

Your bare thighs clench around his, trying to keep your wits about you, but his hand only proceeds faster to ruin those efforts.

“Off,” you weakly state, reaching between you to pathetically tug at his own trousers.

Levi pulls away from your mouth, staring up at you in his lap. “That’s—”

“What I want,” you interrupt, and you see his throat bob with a swallow.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever gotten to knowing the essence of him.

“You don’t have to,” you promise. “I do.”

Once, fumbling at the cadet barracks.

It was awkward and quick and unremarkable.

Yet the way Levi’s eyes widen with recognition, you already know this is what you want — him, every fragment of him, hidden away from the world.

Pushing him to the couch cushions, you raise your hips to help him push down his trousers and underwear.

His cock springs free and his hisses at the contrast of the cool air and his hot skin.

You take advantage of the moment, wrapping your hand around him.

The way he whines when your hand leisurely pumps will be burned into the back of your skull.

“Are you sure?”

His question manages to weave itself through the hazy maze of your mind.

Glancing down at him, you note how flushed his cheeks have become; how his chest rises and falls under that flowing white shirt. He looks utterly wrecked without having to do much of anything.

“Are you sure?” you ask in return, giving your answer rhetorically.

Panting, the dark-haired boy nods.

Certain.

So are you.

“Just touch me,” you tell him, and Levi leaps at the damn opportunity to do so.

He raises up from the couch to loop his palm around your neck, dragging you down with him into a searing kiss. You moan into it, gently nudging the tip of him to your entrance.

When his hand returns to your clit, eager to draw those noises out of you, it only makes it that much easier to slowly push yourself down onto his length.

Both of your mouths drop open, wide with a soundless shout, as you ease him fully into you.

Wrong.

Over and over, the word plays in your mind.

Levi groans as you drag your body up, then down, beginning a tentative rhythm.

Wrong.

Nothing fills you like him.

Nothing fills you like this.

He lets you set the pace as you fuck him on his couch, the sounds of your pleasure mixing in the midnight air.

Faster.

Harder.

His hand grips your hip so hard it could leave a bruise.

You don’t care.

He groans a semblance of your name, something he rarely does, and squeezes harder.

Close.

If he’s never done this, then you know he won’t last long.

With your own climax coming at you with a vengeance, you can’t find a reason to care.

Suddenly you feel it — the wave rises so fast and falls that you don’t have time to warn him.

Within seconds you cum around him, violently shuddering around him as you cry against his mouth.

The sheer force of it causes Levi to gasp sharply, hips slamming abruptly into you so he’s buried deep—

He doesn’t have time to warn you, either.

He cums just as hard, sealing the loud moan with a kiss to your lips.

You still your hips, spent — his arms catch you when you crumble against his chest, desperately trying to catch your breath.

You’ve passed it: the point of no return, forced to confront a choice with no regrets.

The aftermath, euphoria clouding judgment, hasn’t quite hit yet.

Wrong.

(Neither of you care.)

.

author's note:

Thank you so much for reading! This one shot was unbeta'd and written in two hours so I hope this insane "I woke up with this idea and really wanted to participate" story made you as sweaty as it made me this morning.

[messiahzzz]

i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?

but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?

player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?

gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.

gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.

gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.

gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.

player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.

gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.

once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.

gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.

any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.

gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.

nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him

gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?

nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.

he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.

player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?

gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.

player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?

gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.

gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.

gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.

aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.

once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?

minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.

minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.

gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.

player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...

gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.

all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?

essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.

gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.

nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania

he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.

tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.

as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.

we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:

gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.

gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?

gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.

tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.

tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.

player: gale is his own man, tara.

tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.

yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.

gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.

morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?

gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?

tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.

tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.

gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.

gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.

if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

[seirei-bh]

Jason Mendal headcanons

I wrote these headcanons for fun, however, keep in mind that there is only a few episodes of MCL NG out by now, so I may be wrong about some ideas due to later revelations. (I've also added some NSFW headcanons under the cut!)

-He loves luxury restaurants, especially Italian food, and everything expensive and exotic that is the specialty of five-star chefs.

-He has a limousine and a driver, but he only uses them on special occasions, since he prefers to drive his own car.

-If he were an animal he'd identify with a panther, a wolf or a shark

-He likes to listen to jazz.

-He made an anonymous Twitter account that he uses to insult Devemenentiel members (later Thomas found it and hacked it to permanently ban it, lol)

-He usually wears cologne, his favorites are “Sauvage” by Dior, and “Eros” by Versace (obviously very expensive and brand name)

-He doesn't feel close to his family. Most of them are unbearable to him, with a few exceptions.

-He tends to think that stable romantic relationships are a waste of time. Most of his romantic relationships in the past didn't last very long, almost all of his former lovers complained that "he was married with his job" or that "he was a self-centered asshole". He never had enough time for them and he got bored of them because they were not intelligent or interesting enough to him (something that changes with newsucrette/Ysaline)

-He likes women with self-confidence, who know what they want and are capable of challenging him.

-His poliosis was a consecuence of his Waardenburg syndrome. That syndrome also causes on him to suffers from partial deafness and has vision problems. However, he hides all this by using a very discreet hearing aid and contact lenses. Almost no one knows this except a few people very close to him, Jason hides these problems from the people at his company and any competitors to avoid look weak.

-He's afraid of one day becoming completely deaf, so he learned to read lips and sign language.

-He doesn't want to have children, partly because he doesn't have time to raise them, but mostly because he fears they could inherit the physical problems he has, like a partial or complete deafness.

-Since he was little he was always very good at maths.

-Jason pretends he was always popular, but he was quite nerdy at school, something that he decided to change later in high school and college, he went from being the nerd boy who other made fun of to being the popular boy who insulted and bullied the others.

-During his childhood and teenage years he used to dye his hair so that other children would not mess with him, but as an adult he learned to leave his natural white streaks with self-confidence and to see them as an attractive and unique feature.

-He likes the beach, the pool and going on a yacht. He hates mountains and nature.

-He likes to go to the theater and museums. He knows a lot about the life and work of artists, but he doesn't know as much about art itself, although he pretends he does.

-He has the philosophy of “the end justifies the means” and also that money does give happiness, or at least it can help buy it.

-As a child he learned to play the piano, but as an adult he has thrown away most of his former hobbies from his little free time, because he no longer has time for any of that.

-He got that tattoo on his arm because he lost a big bet once, but since Jason never talks about his defeats, when someone asks him, he says that he got that tattoo just because he wanted to and without any reason or meaning beyond the aesthetic.

-Devon was one of the few true pals Jason really respected and appreciated in the past, before “something” happened between them and they became enemies. Each of them has a different version about what really happened in mind, so that hostility due to differences in povs became increasingly stronger as the years went by. (Probably in this case it is Jason who is not right, but he is too proud to admit that he was wrong.)

-He felt attracted to newsucrette/Ysaline from the first moment he saw her. At first it was just desire and he wanted to manipulate her, but over time that feeling grew stronger and turned into love. Something that he also tried to ignore and deceive himself, denying it until he realized about the truth. He knew that maybe she would hate him, that maybe he would hurt her, that everything could end very badly, but still he couldn't resist to try it.

NSFW headcanons

-He loves bondage, specially tying your hands with his tie.

-He enjoys giving you orders in bed and see you obeying them, but also he enjoys secretly even more when you're a "bad girl" and refuse to do what he orders.

-Praise kink (both give and receive)

-He absolutely adores when you claw your nails on his back, so he has more excuses to call you “kitten.”

-Also when you grab him by his tie to drag him to the bedroom and passionately tear off his clothes.

-His favorite place is in his house, although it can be in bed, against the wall or on a table.

-Too excited by the idea of f*king you in Goldreamz's office, on his desk table sometime.

-He almost always prefers to be the dominant one, but also loves when you fight for dominance and you get to be the queen in his bed who is able to doms him.

-He loves to tempt you beforehand, whispering sexy and dirty things in your ear, kissing you on the neck and caressing you softly and subtly, until you can't take yourself anymore.

-Hard. Savage. Passionate. Sometimes very fast for all the sexual tension you two can't handle, sometimes unbearably slow on purpose because he wants to hear you beg for more and praise him how good he is and how much you want him.

-You two always end on a bed after an argument. He's turned on by how beautiful you look when you're angry and how you fight back fierly. Sometimes he makes you angry on purpose because how much he enjoys the moment and what comes later.

-He loves when you tell him that you hate him. That turns him on too even more.

-Skilled with his fingers and proud of it *wink*

-Proud of his own body. Yeah, his size too.

-He loves to kiss your neck, caress your legs and grab your thighs and butt.

-He loves looking at you. His gaze is especially intense and challenging when you're riding him, and he likes to hear you gasp as he watches your beautiful face and body.

-Sometimes is a competition between the two to see who shows better skills in bed and how much you both can last (how many hours and poses). He'll give you his best sexy smirk and won't stop f*king you until you beg him, but you would never beg your enemy... right?

Extra! A few nsfw sweet headcanons too:

-If he notices that you feel too uncomfortable and nervous, he makes humorous comments to break the ice and make you laugh.

-Although he likes BDSM, he will always ask you if you feel comfortable or not with it and will stop if you ask him to do so.

-He's not very used to aftercare, but he knows that you need them, so he tries to give it to you. Plus, he likes it when you rest your head on his torso, close to his heart, and he thinks you look gorgeous while you sleep.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

HELLO, IT IS I, BACK WITH ANOTHER UNHINGED POST ABOUT WHY ADAR AND GALADRIEL SHOULD FIGHT SAURON TOGETHER, HOW THE SHOW HAS SET US UP FOR THE "BATTLE OF THE EXES" AND WHY I WILL BE SUPER PISSED IF IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY HAPPEN.

I appended this to another post, but in response to "What was Galadriel thinking watching Adar do his Uruk funeral ritual," I think the answer was clear.

She was thinking of Finrod.

She was thinking of standing over her brother's dead body, mourning for her lost loved one that Sauron stole from her, and she's realizing that Adar feels the exact. same. thing.

Sauron has taken from both of them what they love most.

She's realizing that she and Adar are on the same mission.

They have the same enemy. And the same goal.

S2Ep2 hints that it would be unwise for Galadriel to face Sauron alone. Gil-galad says it's a bad idea, since she's already been susceptible to Sauron once. Galadriel's repsonse:

"Supposing I was not alone?"

In context, she's pitching him to let Elrond accompany her on her journey. But I think that moment is foreshadowing that there will be someone else at her side when she has the actual fight with Sauron, and I contend that person can ONLY be Adar.

Again, identical quests/goals. I laid out in this post how intentional the show has been about making the mirrors to one another/both sides of the same coin/represenations of dark and light.

They are also the ones who have been most victimized by Sauron. They have both been deceived, as discussed on their dinner date.

It's PERSONAL, for both of them.

It's also personal for Sauron.

Worth noting: it also isn't the first time this triad has been in conflict with one another.

In this scene in S1Ep6, both Galadriel and Adar were both under Sauron's deception. Galadriel thought she was aiding the King of the Southlands, and Adar thought he was... well... just some dude, who by his own admission he really didn't recognize.

My hope is that S2 is setting them up to have this ultimate climactic battle with Sauron where they can both go in with eyes open.

SO NOW FOR THE INSANITY.

As I mention in the previously referenced post, I think "The Last Temptation" signals that there is a third player in the fight between Galadriel and Sauron. Based on all the thematic evidence, as well as the objects we know appear in the fight, Adar's sword (by all appearences), Nenya, and Morgoth's crown, I think all evidence points to Adar.

So here's an completely unhinged breakdown of The Last Temptation track, and what I think is playing out. (I'm not an expert in music, I'm just going off of what I hear as a lay person. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, but for now, I'm just getting this theory out of my brain. Take it for what it is: pure, unleaded speculation.)

The track begins with the Ring theme. Fairly obvious-- we know Galadriel is in possession of the Nine heading away from Eregion.

We then get an urgent build into Sauron's theme and ostinato. Almost as if he's in pursuit.

At 1:07, a new theme begins that we have not yet heard before. It's heavy, urgent and percussive, with a choir. I believe his is a new musical motif for a transformed Adar, because I think Nenya will give him some degree of healing from his corruption-- a key reason why we haven't seen him in ANY promo materials yet for Episode 8. But ALSO. Watch the brutal way Adar fights in S2Ep7 and then imagine that while this bit plays. BAMF.

There is a brief flash of Eregion around 1:23... I'm not entirely certain what to make of that, perhaps Sauron conjures some image of either Celebrimbor's death or the city burning?

Then we're back to the percussive Adar theme, COMBINED with Galadriel's theme. These blend perfectly together. So my guess is they're both locked in combat with Sauron here.

Then things start to get tasty.

Around 1:58, we get another variation of Sauron's theme in a high, solo voice. I think this is where Sauron really starts to manipulate both players. This first bit I think might be a manipulation of Adar (the high solo Sauron theme is reminiscant of S2Ep1 in the North). But then Galadriel's them briefly cuts in-- perhaps she's distracting Sauron? Re-engaging him to stop his manipulation of Adar?

So what does Sauron do? He turns his manipulation on her. At around 2:30, Halbrand's them kicks in, in what we can only assume to be a RUDE AS HELL vision.

What cuts through that illusion at about 2:55? ADAR'S THEME.

So then we have, until about 3:20, Adar's theme, racing strings underneath that I read as being connected with Sauron (not musical enough to tell you for certain, but it feels like it races in a similar way to some of his other themes), and GALADRIEL'S THEME, which kicks in at around 3:09. We're really in it now.

Then there is a 10-second build, which breaks out at 3:30 into the Nolwa Mahtar theme. It sounds triumphant, like maybe Adar and Gal have gotten a handle on things... but THEN. 3:47-- the triumphant theme falls apart, collapsing into the eerie, high solo Sauron theme. This, I believe, is where Sauron bests Adar. If I had to guess, I'd say it's a good bet Sauron fatally stabs him here. The music here is very reminiscant of S2Ep1 when Sauron was lying on the ground being stabbed by the orcs, so there's that mirroring effect there.

This is directly followed by a slower, mournful variation of Galadriel's theme. She's lost her ally in the fight, she is now, in fact, left to face Sauron alone. Which we know, from Gil-galad's comment earlier, is a dangerous place for her to be.

Cue Sauron's theme, full men's choir and sinister, at 4:30. He knows he's winning. At 4:43, we hear something that sounds to me (again, not musically trained, vibes only) like Galadriel's ostinato but warped/distorted somehow. Like Sauron is again fucking with her mind, or possibly physically wounding her. I think she could be fighting another vision, or another attempt for him to steal inside her mind and kick her when she's down.

But then there's another little build, and it sounds like we hear the "tinkling" ring sound-- this, I believe, is when Galadriel will retake Nenya from Adar, because we next get another build, which breaks out into Galadriel's triumphant theme yet again. As far as what's happening here, I can't quite say. Galadriel obviously doesn't win this fight outright, because presumably Sauron is going to abscond with the nine... but it sounds like something makes him retreat or perhaps vanish as his theme diminishes around 5:56.

Then, around 6:00, we get Galadriel's theme, slow and mournful, played on a solo harp. (IF WE'RE GETTING AN ADAR IS CELEBORN REVEAL, I'M CALLING THIS NOW: IT'S GONNA HAPPEN HERE, because there was definitely a solo harp playing when she reminisced to Theo about her husband in S1Ep7.)

Regardless, I think this could definitely be a moment between them where he is fatally wounded and she moves to comfort him. There is a creepy sounding moment around 6:24... but it could also be Nenya at work. Then there's an uplifting bit that begins, and eventually morphs into Elrond's theme.

So I think perhaps EITHER Galadriel heals Adar successfully with Nenya, or his wounds are too fatal and he succumbs, having completed his story arc with the redemptive act of giving her the ring back/fighting at her side against Sauron. Either way, Elrond will find them at the end, and see that Adar played a critical role in helping Galadriel fight Sauron. It will be revealed that Sauron stole away with the nine, but that Nenya is protected and restored to its true bearer, so there is still hope.

The Sun Yet Shines.

anyway, let me know what y'all think!

[writingmeraki]

unsaid, unkept, ugly emotions.

a seventeen vocal unit imagines !

IN WHICH, the uglier side of feeling too much getting more messier than it already is for both parties involved.

(or in which for different reasons, it just seems you aren't meant to be.)

pairing : svt!vocal!unit! x gn!reader, bestfriend!jeonghan, popular!joshua, ???jihoon, fwb(?)seokmin, enemy!seungkwan.

genre : angst, no comfort, everything is messy.

warnings : cussing, messy, heartbreak, contemplation, arguements, miserable people, miscommunication, everyone gets hurt, a lot of unspoken feelings, like emphasis on that you may get annoyed.

author's note : here's my attempt at angsty feelings ( i hope it was done well enough, really i tried but it might not be for me )<3 the potential to turn each into a fic is there but for me it'll be zero ( for now!!!!) kinda nervous to post this haha it's my first svt work but also a first of this kind of work, let me know if you want more of the units! and what you thought of this :) also peep the cute colours contrasting the fic lmao

HIP HOP UNIT VER. | PERFORMANCE UNIT VER.

word count : 2.9k

˖° ✰ ┆JEONGHAN.

The signs that something was wrong were there. For a while now. But you being the problem runner you were, you chose to ignore it.

You also knew one day they’ll catch up to you, and it seemed today was it. 

“Jeonghan?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. Though it was his name, it sounded so foreign coming from you. 

You who never called him by his full name. It left a sour taste on his tongue as he answered,

“Yes?”

“Do-do you think we’re good?”

Did he think you were good? He was feeling good, great even. But you asked in plural and in the plural it included you. Your relationship.

What was your relationship?

“Uhh…I’m…I think?” 

You smiled at his answer. It didn’t reach your eyes, nor did it hide away the bitterness in them. “You know what I think? I don’t think we’re good. I think- I think it’s all a mess. It’s me, isn’t it? I should have never told you how I felt right?”

There. You ripped the band-aid off right from the wound. You had to, otherwise you knew your heart would be the one shattered, sooner or later, so why wait?

You knew there’d be consequences on confessing to your best friend. You knew there was always a risk to confess but the risk felt higher if it was someone you considered your best friend. A few sentences and it’s either having a stranger who you shared a past with or someone to create more memories for the rest of your time together. 

The issue gets more complicated when you don’t know where you stand. 

He couldn’t answer you, he didn’t know how to answer you. On one side, he wanted to yell at you. Yell at you for regretting confessing when it may have been the one thing he wanted to hear since the day thirteen year old him saw you beat up a guy who was bullying your brother.

On the other hand, he felt the fear consume him of the future, what if you broke up? You would never be the same, no matter what. He didn’t want to lose what he had, so he rather left it unanswered, thinking with time, it’ll fade away. Like everything does.

His feelings for you never did. A wonder how he could think yours would.

Taking a deep breath with your eyes shut,you nodded knowing your answer,

“Alright then I see.”

“Let’s take a break from each other.”

Break of what? You didn’t date, you were in a one-sided love scenario with your best friend. 

Before he could reply, he watched you walk away. Your heart felt heavier when you didn’t hear a single word or even footsteps follow you. 

His mind was the loudest and one thing he was for sure, as you walked away with each step, he could feel his heart slowly crack.

And just like that. It is over. 

・₊ ‹𝟥 ┆JOSHUA.

Perhaps your biggest mistake was wanting someone who everyone wanted. But was it really your mistake because technically you were also part of everyone. 

You could feel his stare burn into your side as you ate the horrible cafeteria food in your college. You could somehow hear his voice, somehow know he was likely calling you to talk.

What went wrong?

Everything you’d answer if he ever asked. It began going downhill when you felt those feelings you knew you didn’t feel around anyone. Certainly when you hung out with Yeonjun or with Jimin, you didn’t feel them. 

You only felt them around him. The weird butterflies, the warm cheeks, the sweaty hands. At first you thought maybe you were actually scared of him, the intimidated type of scared. Who knew it ended up being scared of how you felt for him, how probably no one made you feel the way he did. 

Finally looking up at him, you hid all your emotions as best as you could. You certainly hoped he wouldn’t be able to know. 

But as your gaze fell to the girl beside him, you couldn’t hide them.

Choi Seora, the younger sister of Choi Seungcheol who was Joshua’s best friend since you could know. Well since that time he told you himself he knew the Choi siblings since they were kids. Childhood best friends. Knew them before you.

And she was also the girl who loved him. Anyone could see it from the way her eyes would look at him like the way one would at a treasure they’d been searching for. What she’d do for him, from what you’ve heard, what you’ve seen. There never was a chance.

It seemed as though the sign was already there. How could you compete with someone who knew him longer than you ever would? It’s not a competition if you already know you're losing. 

Your unused hand clenched under the table, nails digging into your palms, leaving crescent marks that would bruise. Perhaps it would be in a similar state to the bruise inside your chest.

It fucking sucked when you could still feel his gaze on you as you turned back to stare at your half eaten bowl of pasta. Well, excuse of a pasta.

Suddenly you felt your phone ring from beside your bowl and you knew who it was before you even looked.Without looking at the name, you moved your hand to the switch off button and shut it off.

You wished there was such a button for emotions. 

“Shua? Who are you calling?” It was empty in the cafeteria and you thought you might just puke out the pasta when you heard her sweetly call out to him as she looked at him with concern.

But for now, you’d do what seemed right. 

Leaving your bowl of uneaten pasta, you grabbed your bag and phone. With one glance at Joshua whose attention was on you but now turned back to Seungcheol and Seora as they said something, you walked away.

The last thing Joshua heard was the sound of the cafe doors closing and when he turned his attention back to what or specifically the one who had been in his mind since the first time he met, he found you were gone.

At that moment, Hong Joshua felt more miserable than he ever did before.

₊✧ ┆JIHOON.

The lump in your throat got bigger as your vision got blurrier. You knew you should have listened to your friends.

Jihoon isn’t the type of person to be in a relationship with, babes, he doesn’t want that commitment stuff.

It’s what Karina had told you when you told her you were in love with him. Head over heels type.

But when it came to you, the determined type, the one who stood their place no matter what. The unwavering pebble in the ever-so drifting waves of the ocean. You believed that perhaps if you tried hard enough, surely the boy would see your efforts.

It wasn’t just a one-sided thing you knew. Otherwise another thing he was known for was being honest. If he didn’t like it, you were sure you’d have stopped. You didn’t think you were insane for thinking he may just like when you saw him smile at you for bringing him coffee. You didn’t think you were insane for thinking he may just reciprocate your feelings when you saw him hiding his face from complementing his work ethics. Perhaps, it was all in your lovesickness you drew these conclusions and many others. 

So where did you mess up?

“Fucking hell! Just leave me alone and stop acting like a clingy partner!” 

That’s what it got you. It was as though the words slapped you in the face. You surely did feel like it when you flinched taking a step back and your cheeks warmed in a mix of embarrassment as well as hurt. It wasn’t the kind of warmth that pleased you, it was the kind that burned you. Harshly so you felt it in your entire body.

Maybe it was your fault after all, you noticed he was having a bad day and you made the effort to go and comfort him. As you did. 

Maybe maybe maybe, always maybe your fault and always yours. 

Maybe you should listen to him then. 

Inhaling with what dignity you had left, picking up the pieces of your heart that seemed shattered the minute he finished the sentence, you glared at him and spat out words laced with an equally venomous tone.

“Fine then! You’re saying it's my fault but you know what, maybe everyone is bloody right about you! You’re nothing but a coward scared of commitment!”

“The day you’ll realize you’re nothing but a coward who gets scared at the mere thought of being in a relationship and pushes someone away because maybe there is a chance you like them, it’ll be too fucking late because guess what? I’m tired of this stupid push and pull game with you,Jihoon.” 

“Goodbye.”

You hated how your voice cracked when you finished speaking. You hated how you could not stop the tears. You especially hated the look on his face as he saw what he did, what his words did.

With what energy you had left in you, you turned around and walked away.

Enough was enough, you couldn’t win over someone’s heart who wasn’t even sure whose hands it should lay in. 

Yet one thing was sure, yours laid in his hands and right then, you sure felt like he crashed it into pieces. 

♡₊˚ ┆ SEOKMIN.

Seokmin glowed like the moon solely rose up to soak in his light, like the stars twinkled off his radiance. Maybe,you just got too close to the sun, enchanted with its brightness, to not realize just how much it could burn you. He was your sun. No actually the sun,stars, moon whatever celestial body existed perhaps dimmed down compared to him. 

You think it messed you up completely when you kissed him in that truth or dare game surrounded by your mutual friends. You think about the stolen kisses, never more, just kisses in between the times you’d pass by in the hallways, pulling him in a cramped space and leaving with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Again, just kissing. 

Simply put, you were addicted to him. To the way he made you feel. To the way he made you tingle when he kissed you so gently. 

You didn’t want to address the elephant in the room. Or in this case, 

What were you two?

Mingyu asked when you were sitting down in the same circle, just like the first time you’d kissed each other, with the same people. 

You hesitated and then said, uncharacteristically enthusiasm lacing your voice,

“Friends of course! Don't be ridiculous Gyu.”

You didn’t like that word, and it seemed he didn’t either as he looked away,gulping in distaste and a scoff on his face that was usually unnatural for the sunshine like a boy. Seemingly going unnoticed by you but said boy who asked the question noticed and glanced back at you to see if you noticed. He sighed when he saw you not looking at Seokmin but raised an eyebrow as he saw you in a dilemma. 

Right. Friends. Friends who kiss. But still friends…friends?

You tried convincing yourself the rest of that day that adding a label would ruin things. It always does. You should enjoy it while you can, right? It was all in fun?

So why did you feel terribly down when Seokmin refused to talk to you for the rest of the day?

“Seok?” You asked gently and he sighed exhaustingly as he looked at you,

“Please, please don’t…don’t call me that.”

The look of hurt on your face made him hate himself more because why would anyone like to hurt someone they loved?

Before you opened your mouth to speak, he continued,

“I don't think I can do this anymore, this…whatever this is. I am…sorry.”

And without a chance to ask more questions or give any answers, he turned around and walked away.

This was your fault. You hurt him because you couldn’t admit it to yourself that you…that you loved him. 

You loved him more than the universe, you loved him since the day you saw him. You were just scared you'll lose him like the way you lose all your loved ones. You were scared of risks. You were…a coward.

And now it seemed, it was too late to do anything about it.

⠂୨୧ ˚.┆SEUNGKWAN.

Seungkwan and you were fire and water. Milk and lemons. Politicians and caring for the country’s people- Okay too far perhaps and enough of these metaphors of incompatibility to get a point.

You were sworn enemies. Despised each other in the true forms of hate. You hated him so much for the emotions he rose in you that you couldn’t stand him ruining another poor innocent soul with his devious eyes and cunning smile.

Which was exactly what he was doing with the girl wrapped around his left arm, additionally whispering probably lame jokes that made her giggle as though they were the funniest thing on earth. Lee Yuna was her name, you knew her as a cheerleader due to seeing her during your basketball games and also being somewhat acquainted because as a captain, it was apparently in your duty to know everyone especially those involved in the sports sector of your university.

You wish you could cross off knowing Seungkwan but alas, being the midfielder of the boys’ soccer team and the apparent star as well didn’t help in your case. 

“I smell something burning and oh! Would you look at that! It’s an ugly green color too!” Sakura said as she smirked at you, pretending to take a sip of her drink when you directed your glare at her. 

“Fuck. You.” 

“You wish-”

“Oh! hey cap!” A voice said before you could retort to Sakura and you turned to see Vernon smiling at you in greeting. You knew him, of course you knew all of Seungkwan’s little friend group. You frowned at him eyeing him in suspicion. He was Seungkwan’s friend after all.

“Why the frown?” Sakura snorted as he asked you,his attention going to your best friend before she pointed at him and it was as if he understood and nodded.

“Ohhh, I see what’s the matter now.”

“Someone’s” Coughing very fakely, he added, “Jealous.”

Shutting your eyes, you looked at him with a glare enough to make him shut up on his own but still you added,

“Say that again and I’ll-”

“Already giving death threats huh? Maybe you should really go check up on that stick up your ass.” Of fucking course, now is when he decided to show up.

As though his eyes had not been searching for you the moment he stepped in the party. As though he hadn’t noticed you the moment you did. As though it wasn’t just an elaborate plan to rile you up.

You looked at him and fuck. Fuck he made you so angry with how fucking good he looked despite the conditions of the party. His blonde hair shining in the colorful lights and the darn smirk on his face. 

“Kwan. How nice of you to show up! Just the person I was waiting for!” Your sarcasm could be sensed by those around, Sakura’s attempt at hiding her snort and Vernon’s brows raised not going unnoticed. They looked at each other briefly and a knowing look was exchanged.

Here we go again.

“Aw you were waiting for me darling?Hope I wasn’t too late, just got a little busy you see?”

“Clearly.” You said before thinking, the scowl on your face visible and the smugness on his face only grew larger.

“Not fond of me with someone else?” You didn’t even notice how both Vernon and Sakura had left, seemingly only Seungkwan and you, in the midst of drunk teenagers and perhaps lovesick ones, perhaps loners. 

He got closer, closer that made you clench your hands that hung on your sides, leaning down.

“Not fond of me with anyone but you?”

It was as though his voice put you in a trance, or maybe it was how his warm breath tickled your neck. And for the first time in a while you thought of what he said, deeper than you would have ever.

You weren’t sure if you liked the answer. Or what it exactly implied too.

“Stay in your limits Kwan. Don’t fucking- don’t play this shit with me.” You pushed him away as harshly as you could, even if it felt like your hands burned when you thought of what you did. Purposefully ignoring the look in his eyes. Visible hurt and a frown on his face, you turned around, having enough.

“Don’t come after me. Stay with Yuna or whoever, I don’t fucking care.” You don’t know why you said the last sentence. You also don’t want to know why it felt bitter saying it.

With that, you began to walk out, gulping the fresh air that was much needed after being in that suffocating place, suffocating feelings.

As you shut your eyes, you gulped thinking of what you were doing. Why were you so pissed off? 

And maybe you realized, you needed to check on the line that was drawn between Seungkwan and you. Perhaps it’s become too blurry to distinguish it from hatred and love.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

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[turbulentscrawl]

Could I get an Aesop, Norton and Kevin with a S/O who gets turned into a hunter because they learned too much? Like. Their Significant other was always very enthusiastic about discovering secrets and stuff, and they started acting off because they discovered something BAD. And within a month or so. They moved officially to the hunter manor? 🙏

If that's too much, feel free to ignore or decline!

I put my own spin on this, i hope you don't mind! This is SFW but going under the cut because it plays into the horror aspect of the game. Also, I don't have the time to whip up a kevin header currently and don't have the patience to wait on posting this....so I'll get his made and added later!

Warnings: body horror, angst

The worst part of it all is that you can’t even remember the reason for it all.

You were a seeker, a searcher, always nosing into places and subjects you didn’t belong. You craved to know the world’s secrets and that included the manor’s. You spent long hours, days, weeks, investigating the manor’s records, the histories of its inhabitants, obtaining the aid of…some horrific woman. A veritable snake. She told you something. Something bad…. Something that ruined you from the inside out, necrosing its way through every cell.

The changes come slowly at first, and painfully. Your muscles and joints would ache. Your head would throb. Your bones would move on their own, shifting and stretching inside your tearing meat. You drowned in darkness, and suffocated in blinding lights. The worst moments of your life came to you again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again!

And when all the pain finally melted away, you were different. The friendly faces around you were once your enemies. Your own face was that of a lion, and the original of it staring back was the clueless lamb.

Aesop

-He showed little interest in your “search for answers.” He wants to understand everything better too, true, but even the detective sorts among you had found few answers. Orpheus, Alice, Naib…. No offense to you, of course, I’m just saying he wasn’t be holding his breath….

-But far be it from this recluse to stop you. He of all people understands what it means to hyperfocus on your work. Work is familiarity, truth, and on some level he can imagine how a tangled mystery might be as comfortable to you as a corpse is to him. They both reveal truths in indirect ways.

-Because of your busybody separation from one another during this time, he likely doesn’t notice the changes right away. He probably finds out from someone else about the aches and pains you’ve been having, the sweats, fever, and all without a match in the records to explain them away. People didn’t get sick in the manor, yet somehow you inexplicably were.

-Then you sleep. For days. You’re still enough that Aesop almost feels like he’s watching over one of his 'normal' patients, like he should be doing your makeup. He’s calm, but checks for your pulse and breathing a lot. That’s when he notices you crying in your sleep.

-And things only go downhill from there. Aesop is generally level-headed, but there’s something about your aura that begins to disturb him. He refuses to leave, to abandon you when something is obviously wrong, but you go more and more still under his watchful eyes. You stop breathing, your skin goes pallid, but blood is still hot in your veins—he gives your thumb a pinprick to be sure of it. Your pillow is always wet because you won’t stop silently crying.

-On a whim one day, he decides to check your eyes. He collapses to the ground when he realizes the sockets are empty and raw. He runs from your room then, and when Emily returns to investigate your body is gone.

-The next day, you return in perfect condition. Healthy, though confused, and with no memory of that last several weeks of pain. You both had a match the next day, and Aesop decided he would focus on protecting you above anything else.

-But the Hunter was new. Eerie, unspeaking, blind…and cried ceaselessly. Aesop was frozen in genuine fear when the other you lumbered by him, choking on pained sobs, perhaps in search of your old peace.

Norton

-He told you from the beginning that it was a bad idea. Norton was not an educated man but he had sense—and experience—enough to know when paranormal shit was not to be trifled with. He still had nightmares about that eye….

-But you went on ahead with your business anyway. He let you, albeit while watching his back a whole lot more. Isolating. Swallowing his dread. You remind him of his mistakes before you even make them.

-He doesn’t think much of your first symptoms. Norton gets sore sometimes, and feels ill. The Black Lung never did leave him, and some days he handles it worse than others. You have nothing like that, though, and after several days of persisting discomfort he remembers that fact and sends you to Emily. She’s as perplexed as him though, and that makes him feel even more nervous.

-He also doesn’t notice for a while that you’ve stopped talking about your search entirely. He asks you about it once, when he catches you staring at the wall in a daze, and feels like a knife pierces his lung when you say you don’t have the faintest clue what he’s talking about.

-He keeps catching you like that. Paralyzed in a particular spot. Watching things, unblinking. When you come to, you don’t remember what you were doing. Your memory starts go slip away like Luca’s does, but somehow it’s more severe. You remember who you are, who he is, but everything else is gone. Some evenings he practically has to spoon feed you dinner because the concept of silverware and food have escaped you.

-Paranoid of what it all means, Norton starts to stay with you at night. But he gets no sleep during those times because all night you moan in pain. When Norton wraps his arms around you for comfort, he wears he feels your muscles twisting and undulating under your skin.

-Norton does not remember the last time he’s screamed, but he did the day after you finally seemed better. After he finally started to relax again. He was decoding in the top floor of the hospital when he heard that familiar moaning coming from below. He freezes at the sound, and when he looks over his shoulder he sees a twisted, stretched figure crawling up through the gaping hole in the floor. He knows the hair, the voice, but nothing else is you.

-And he screams, backed up against the cipher like a cornered animal. Never in his life has he not tried to run for his life, but when this Hunter of you locks eyes with him he can’t. He can’t run from what he didn’t fight harder against. Even when facing Fool’s Gold—himself—he’s never felt so much like a failure.

Kevin

-He’s always known he lacks your foresight. Kevin can’t begin to suspect the truth of things like this place. The sprawling vastness of it, he doesn’t trust himself to comprehend the complexity, the darkness. But you? Well, even if this it all a bit eerie, he’s got faith in your intelligence.

-He plays closer attention to you than the other two. The second you start to look off, he tasks notice. He sees the obsession in your face, the dark bags under your eyes, the way your nose digs deeper into things than before. You become…pushier with people.

-Kevin suggests you take a break, but you wave him off. You’re onto something, you say, and just need a little more understanding before everything unravels. He doesn’t like that word. “Unravel.”

-Which is perhaps a premonition, because it’s a great word to describe what happens to you. When you’re awake—and you are awake for irrationally long hours—you seem positively mad. You whisper to yourself in words that don’t sound human. He catches “Hastur” among them a few times, and “Witch” but once again his own comprehension fails.

-And when you sleep, you scream. The fist few nights it happened, he and a few others came running from down the hall and roused you. You didn’t remember the terrors. Night after night it happened, the response dwindling until it was just Kevin abandoning his own sleep to help you from whatever was terrifying you in your sleep.

-Then, you stopped waking up. He tried everything! Water, those smelling salts Emily had. Nothing would wake you and you just kept screaming, screaming, screaming like you were being dissected in your bed. After three days of not sleeping himself, Kevin carried your thrashing form to the infirmary. He was horrified when Emily suggested restraining and gagging you, but he had no other ideas himself. He slept in the chair nearby for what felt like weeks.

-And one day it all stopped. Kevin woke up, cracked his stiff neck, and noticed you were gone from your restraints. Emily was as confused as he was, but before the panic could build you emerged from your own bedroom, right as rain.

-He pulled you aside and cried in your arms until he passed out himself.

-The next match, though, started his own series of nightmares. Only a few minutes in he heard that scream. That blood-curdling wail that had been seared into his memory. It paralyzed him, and everyone else, on the spot. And then the vestige of your suffering appeared. Dark, shivering, voice raw and pained. The new Hunter that rounded the corner was undeniably you, and Kevin was sure he’d never know another peaceful day again.

[what-did-you-just-say]

Hello, can I get Shaxx, Cayde, Drifter, and maybe Crow with a reader who is really shy, and timid but if there tired or angry they just couldn't care less, they'll just pop people's heads off practically.

HELLOOOO! Hi, sorry I didn't react sooner but I saw your request and kinda forgot about writing it! I'm so sorry!

So here it is!! Well, I tried to be as close to the characters as possible without them being OOC. I hope you like it!

(I know they're a little short, I tried my best)

Lord Shaxx

- he'd be...surprised, honestly. Shaxx is the kind of man who encourages your might in the Crucible but he came to terms with your shy and timid nature.

- he finds it cute if we're being honest here, it just goes to show how well your characters go together.

‐ Shaxx is loud and not at all embarrassed by his words while you're a little off to the side and rather not interact with many people you don't know that well.

- So to see you in the Arena, feeling a little off with that tinge of tiredness, not wanting to actually do much except get the match over with, worried him a little.

- Well, that was until you got angry at some hunter taunting you across the map. He's been an irritating thorn in your side this whole time with his arrogant cockiness and that stupid shit eating grin you swore you saw through his helmet.

- Now, Shaxx being the man he is and encouraging your might in his matches, practically thrives off your newfound determination to bring the enemy team down.

‐ He gushes about it aswell, flexing that his S/O was crushing the enemy team and brought the win for their own.

- but he comforts you afterwards, truly. He'll be all over you with affection that same night and tell you how well you did and coo in your ear about your achievements and your victory over that damn hunter.

Cayde-6

- oh jeez...well, okay, Cayde isn't that bad but he'd also be a big encourager on his part.

- he loves the fact he can coddle you and tease you for your shyness and timid nature, finding it incredibly endearing when you blush and try to hide from him.

- he's your voice in moments it really counts in, speaking for you when something bothers you or whatnot.

- but when he (surprisingly enough) managed to get out of the tower and "aid" you on patrol on Mars, he really didn't expect you to start popping Cabal heads with little to no care!

- all because they scratched your armour too! You've been feeling tired already, not wanting to go on patrol in the first place but being tasked by Commander Zavala himself to simply take a look around the perimeter.

- now your new armour has been scratched, you were already tired and these Cabal weren't letting up either!

- Cayde just simply stood off to the side and gawked at you like you were a completely different person!

- his sweet and cute S/O, as shy and timid as they are most of the time, is casually killing Cabal with headshots left and right like they were nothing!

- (he was a little turned on, let's be fair)

- to say everybody in the Tower knew of your little outburst would be an understatement, that loveable Exo of yours could not keep his damn mouth shut.

Drifter

- he might be the damn reason you're so nagged in the first place, honestly.

- so we all know Drifter and how he is, always that bravado he puts on for a rogue lightbearer. He's got an image to uphold.

- so this man would also be an absolute tease, cracking jokes and cooing right in your ear on a private comms channel just to see you get flustered and all.

- but he knows when to stop aswell, don't get me wrong.

- that instance would be when you both were on a mission on Europa. He had perched himself onto a vantage point where he could observe and cover your back if needed.

- you two were just casually chatting around, talking about the most mundane things while you were walking the perimeter.

‐ until...you suddenly got ambushed. You were already tired and these Fallen constantly crawling out of their hiding spots and caves and whatnot just irritated you further. It was supposed to be a simple Intel mission.

- so Drifter, being the good boyfriend he is, covered your back and shot Eliksni after Eliksni while making sure you weren't too overwhelmed.

- yet he did feel baffled when you just popped their head like nothing, like they were flies.

- for him it felt like you and that person sporting your armour were two different people.

- don't get him wrong, he liked you this way. Unbothered and uncaring but it was a stark contrast to your usually sweet personality.

- he did tease you after everything had calmed down and you two managed to meet up but he did make sure to at least try and get you to calm down.

Crow

- oh my god– are you trying to give this man a heart attack?

- not only was he worried because you were already feeling tired, which made you so easily agitated, but you also had to go on a patrol WITHOUT him nearby.

- he knows of your act of....not being bothered with anything at all but he was still worried, he knows you can take care of yourself

- Crow loves your shy behaviour, it complimented his own well. Your timidness making his heart soften.

- he was...shocked? To say the least the first time he caught you in that state of "You breathe at all? Bullet to the head." and it did worry him a little.

- (even a little turned on, dare I say? He's a sucker okay for badass partners imo)

- he tries his best to calm you down if you reach that state of anger or try and convince Zavala to send someone else when you're feeling tired but got handed another mission.

- Crow just wants to care for you</3

(Hope you enjoyed reading it and send in requests if you want something specific! Have a great day/night!)

(Love, creator hihi)

[starlightshadowsworld]

Concept: After everything at the airport Mori brings Atsushi to the Port Mafia. And even with the deal in place Atsushi has to plead his case.

(Since we’re talking about the parallels between Atsushi and Chuuya.)

Mori’s expression didn’t change as Atsushi gave him the full run down of events. He was the picture of calm and composed. It made Atsushi wonder how much of it was how he actually felt.

If Fukuchi had been the man of a thousand faces. Then who knew how many masks Mori had at his disposal.

“You’ve had quite the day” Mori said finally. As if Atsushi had been talking about the weather. He wasn’t sat at his desk but a lone chair infront of the large windows of his office.

“You could say that again…” mumbled Atsushi before he could stop himself. He felt so small in this large imposing room. The guards by the door only reinforcing that he was in enemy territory.

One wrong move and he was dead.

“But while I offer my sincere condolences, I fail to see how any of this is my responsibility.” Said Mori, sounded almost bored by the whole interaction. Atsushi stared at him in surprise as he continued.

“The Port Mafia has sacrificed a great deal in the name of aiding the Armed Detective Agency.” Said Mori, eyes sharp as he took in Atsushi. “So give me one good reason why I should help you.”

A cold chill went down Atsushi’s spine.

Mori’s words rang in his ears like alarm bells. It was true that the Port Mafia had suffered in this battle with Fyodor. Akutagawa’s death, being the centre of the vampire outbreak.

And yet, Mori had never shied away from helping the Agency. Even when he said no to the initial alliance offer, Mori still offered his aid over and over again.

If he truly saw no reason to work with Atsushi. Then why did he save him at the airport? Any alliance between the two organisations would’ve died with the Agency. And even then Mori only worked in his own interest. He had no reason to save Atsushi.

Or did he?

And just like that everything clicked into place.

“Game theory dictates that the optimal response to an enemies attack is to fight back with everything you have.” Recalled Atsushi. “That was the advice you gave me back in Anne’s Room.” He shook his head “you could’ve let me escape.“

He could’ve chosen not to intervene as he had done prior. He could’ve let Atsushi abandon his friends behind. But Mori had instead stepped in and given Atsushi the resolve to fight.

“It would’ve weakened the Agency and benefited the Port Mafia. But you wouldn’t let me because it would’ve harmed the city.” The love for this great city was the one thing that Fukuzawa and Mori could ever agree on.

It was why Atsushi proposed an alliance between the two organisations in the first place. Despite everything the Port Mafia had done to him. Atsushi had looked past his anger for them and seen how far they were willing to go to protect the city.

And taking out the Agency meant that the Tripartite framework would no longer be effective.

“You could’ve left me at the airport to die. But you know what my ability is capable of.” In a glow of blue light his arm transformed. It alerted the guards but Mori stopped them by simply raising a hand. His eyes trained on Atsushi’s tiger claws.

Bingo.

“And you know how powerful mine and Akutagawa’s abilities are when we work together. And when they’re combined. That kind of power will be needed to end this enemy before they have another chance to strike.”

Fukuchi had said that day that “the reason you lost is because you let me draw this sword’ that’s what Fukuchi had said that day. They’d won in another time, Fukuchi had all but confirmed it. But drawing that sword and striking it before death had saved him.

It was a mistake that could not be made again.

Mori hummed thoughtfully. “That may be true. But your power on its own was said to be the key to destroying the enemy. And yet here you stand before me as the sole survivor of the Armed Detective Agency.”

His gaze seemed to pierce into Atsushi’s soul.

“If your the key, then why is the Agency not here?” It felt like a taunt and Atsushi should’ve gotten mad. Instead all he felt was despair. His own failures striking him over again.

The blood on his hands that Atsushi could never wash away.

“They were taken out one by one. We barely had time to act. That…thing moved faster than light. But the reason the enemy is still here is because everyone was trying to protect me.“ Said Atsushi quietly.

He hung his head in shame.

“It’s all my fault.”

He clenches his fist as it returns to normal. He didn’t have the luxury of breaking down right now.

“But all that matters now is stopping Fyodor. You saw what he did at the airport. That’s only the beginning.” After all Fyodor wanted the book above anything else and the book was in Yokohama.

“I’m not smart enough nor am I strong enough to go against him alone. My friends are gone. And you’re all I have to turn too to defeat him and save this city. To that end….”

Atsushi dropped onto one knee before Mori.

“I will dedicate my blood and all that I am to you, Mori Ougai of the Port Mafia. I will protect this city and this organisation that you head. And I will work for you to decimate our enemies. To follow the plans you have carefully laid.”

The silence that followed threatened to engulf him but Atsushi didn’t move.

“Welcome to the Port Mafia, Atsushi Nakajima.” Atsushi raised his head, surprised. And for the first time since he’d entered this office Mori’s expression changed to a pleased smile.

This test was one Atsushi had passed.

“Come now, we have much to discuss.” Said Mori, the guards parting to let them both pass. With Atsushi walking behind him. “There is something you forgot from our talk that day” said Mori. His voice a lot more pleasant and like the shy doctor Atsushi met in Anne’s Room.

But there was a strength, an assurance within him that made it clear to all he was in charge here.

“What did I miss?”

“No enemy is more vulnerable than one convinced they can’t lose.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

Okay since people wanted me to explain why I don’t like ra-on, I’ll gladly do

It might be a long rant, also it’s my opinion.

So, I don’t even mind that they have strong libido. I mean go ahead, fuck those devils if you want, but the problem is they are supposed to be the player’s inserts. For that, this character is written way too bland.

They are way too indecisive, for example Levi’s bloodshed card, he was hurt and that dude kept saying, ‘oh I really shouldn’t do this, this is wrong,’ but what did they do? They fucked anyway. Man was on the verge of dying, and I get that he looked beautiful while doing so, there is still a time and place for everything. Then, they got hints from Levi that he wanted to do it too, okay, great, lucky you ig. But they were still so unsure of it. If you really are that desperate to do it in a graveyard with a injured man then do it with confidence, instead of keep being so unsure. Cuz if you really were that worried, you literally wouldn’t touch him. Besides, apparently they are too dumb to do first aid on him. I’m not asking them to treat his wounds, Simply putting some clothes over him would have been enough, man’s laying in the rain on the ground while bleeding my god.

Second, they are around 20-22 guess? Because minhyeok is studying and they are childhood friends. Then why are they so incompetent that they have to live off that poor man. We never heard of them having any hobbies or job, all we know about them is that they watch porn in their free time. Great. Not to mention I bet they smell, there is a comic telling us about how they’d masturbate on his chair and not wipe it afterwards. Again, poor minhyeok is the one to wipe it afterwards

That’s fucking disgusting like bro, I get you had a sad past, I get you lost your parents and didn’t have anyone to teach you some stuff, but that is being a normal functioning human which they aren’t. In the beginning, we saw that minhyeok had to take care of ra-on like they were some teenager, they can’t do anything to contribute to sharing a living space with their friend. They can’t cook, could clean but doesn’t cuz they are slacking off. How amazing. Minhyeok is going to college and has to take care of such a nuisance, he truly is pitiful. I’m not asking them to make millions, a simple part time job would suffice, heck, even knowing that they cook their own food. But nooo, they are fucking useless.

Then, in the story, we literally never know anything. They are getting pushed around by the devils. Sitri keeps calling them by the name of another, Satan does whatever the fuck he wants with them, most of the devils use the reason that they have to fuck to take advantage of them, Levi hangs them, mammon also just does whatever he wants but suddenly claiming ra-on owns him. I mean that’s not bad, most of it are little things that could have been alright if only they asked first. Consent my friend, consent. Just ask: ‘I think you need devil energy now, if you don’t mind, I could help.’ (Some did, I think beliar did ask, so shout out to him) then everything would have been fine. But because ra-on’s opinion is so irrelevant, it makes it so clear that the devils only see them as ‘the descendant of Solomon’, as a toy. But they are also somewhat at fault, cuz they aren’t assertive at all. They have no opinion to begin with, they are a pushover.

Third, or fourth? Idk, anyways their goal. So the goal is to end the contracts between the devils and the soul of Solomon. Alright, so the most normal thing would be to ask who those 72 devils are, where to find them and where you will be heading next. But no, the little group is just dragging them to wherever. Also, that about fighting angels, I know they are a human and useless against such strong enemies, but at least don’t just stand around and watch? Like they could hide, go out of the way, call for more forces, pick up a fucking weapon and shoot like Amos and stolas, nope, staying useless again. Those angels are coming for your life, which is nothing they could have controlled, but doesn’t mean they had to stay a damsel in distress. If ra-on got separated from the devils just once, they wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Beelzbubs story, they met him at a bar and he starts to sniff and lick them? Starts to invade their personal space? Sure, why not, he looks good so of course they let him use them.

The devils are biting you, forcing their kinks on you without telling you beforehand, which is basic bdsm etiquette? They are a perv, they like anything anyway so it’s fine.

No it’s not. Ra-on lacks communication and an own standing, it’s as if they don’t respect themselves. Or they are just so chill that they don’t mind getting laid during war? Now that I think about it, you have an option to say you do stay in contact with minhyeok when bael asked you about ‘that special person you left behind’. When, how do they stay in contact? Through ppyong? They could have written a letter to give minhyeok then, a text for ppyong to show minhyeok, told ppyong to tell the only friend they had to take care or something. Nope, nothing, they really only used him huh. Or maybe I’m overthinking it and their character isn’t developed enough to think about such details. Now that I’m talking about development, they don’t seem to have any at all. They are still as plain as before, and we are at chapter 5. They haven’t gotten any more serious, mature or anything. They don’t actively participate in helping neither.

They don’t talk a lot, don’t seem to have a Typ, don’t seem to dislike anything except normal things like crimes, don’t have anything they especially like besides sex. Just a mindless horny doll with no own personality. They don’t understand how hell works at all. Heck, I bet they don’t even know the names of all seven kings. It’s always about the devils doing whatever they like with ra-op, and ra-op being surprised but accepting it with no complains. They are such a failure, like they don’t resemble Solomon in the slightest. I think Solomon has more layers to his personality than ra-on. I get them wanted to make them ‘relatable’ and ‘basic’, cuz it’s a player insert, but no, they aren’t giving us any choices to support that.

Ra-on can stay a bottom for all I care, I don’t relate to them anyway, but they could be a little more sassy maybe? And a bit more decisive and mature please like my god. If they caused for a funny quirky moment then that would be enough. The writing is a joke anyway, so it would be better actually to just straight up make it into a comedy.

I could probably say more if I read more, but I’m stuck at 5-21 cuz I don’t have energy anymore. I’ve written a lot already, and i should probably mention again that this is my opinion, also that I do like the game, just not the MC.

[tanoraqui]

queenship under siege and there's a WHAT in this mountain?! (LotR)

[re: badly described WIPs fics I almost certainly will never actually write - in the lead with 17.5% of the vote as of midnight 3/3/24]

I know I’ve said this before, because I do love it so, but:

The only reason, the ONLY reason, I would ever want the Arkenstone to be a Silmaril is this: the day after Aragorn leaves Rivendell with the Fellowship, Elrond summons Arwen to his study and bids her to go to Erebor.

"What?" she demands. "Surely I am needed here, or out in the wilds, marshaling the Rangers - "

"Your brothers will manage that, after they escort you," her father insists. "You must go to Erebor, and ask Dain to let you open Thorin's tomb, that you may look upon the Arkenstone. Gloin will help you - I spoke with him ere he left. Don't let anyone else know your purpose - as far as the world is concerned, I am sending my only daughter to a safe stronghold until Mordor is defeated."

"Are you not?" she cries. But he will explain no more than, "I think the jewel may be important to our oncoming war, but I wish you to assess it unbiased" - and he gives her two letters to read only once she's made her own judgement of the jewel.

So Arwen goes. The Misty Mountains are crawling with orcs, but in cloaks woven by their grandmother, she and her brothers slip through with only a few close calls. Elrohir and Elladan don't know why she's going even a little, save that their father bade it and (he said) their grandmother supported it. The problem with having Elrond for a father and Galadriel for a grandmother is that, while technically they may each be wrong at times (allegedly), in agreement they never are.

It's nice to have what may be one last journey with her brothers, at least. All three of them know that Elladan and Elrohir will soon be in battle alongside their cousins the Dúnedain, and for all Erebor's strength, it will soon be under attack. Rivendell might soon be under attack. Lothlórien might soon be under attack.

The twins leave almost as soon as the three of them arrive; they have other work to do. Dain barely protests letting Arwen mildly exhume his cousin in order to assess the famous jewel - he doesn't quite like letting an elf(ish person) near the Heart of the Mountain, but he is very worried about the black-armored army lurking across the River Carnen, and respects the wisdom of Elrond and his immediate kin.

Arwen sees the Arkenstone sitting calmly in the hands of of the fallen king, and she sees it clutched in the burning hand of a no-longer-king, fallen free from a twisted iron crown, stolen over a king's bloody body, hallowed by a Queen, forged in a fire like the world never saw again... It glows softly; its light matches that of the small crystal that hangs around her neck now, one of a set of three.

[Here me out: Galadriel made three: one for Celebrian and Elrond as a wedding gift, jointly from herself and Eärendil; one for thw twins upon their birth, and one for Arwen upon hers. Celebrian left hers behind when she Sailed; Galadriel gives it to Frodo.]

The letters are from Elrond and Galadriel, respectively. They say much the same thing:

I'm so sorry to spring this on you, and to make you a guardian of this secret

If the Ringbearer's quest fails and the Enemy regains his full power, please take the jewel (as freely giving by the dwarves if at all possible) and use it however you can to save everyone and everything that you can. (Elrond's says, "My parents will help as much as they can. Do not hesitate to ask for their or any other aid." Galadriel's says, "If you seek Undying Shores with mortals in tow, for succor or for more active aid, hold the Jewel high and beseech first Ulmo and his spirits, and then every single kin-relation you have, no matter the connection. Once you rouse the general populace, then approach the Valar - though don't appear to delay.)

Galadriel's says, "Círdan knows to potentially expect you." Elrond wrote, "If you see your mother before I do", stopped there and blotted it out.

Neither of them needs to say, We will hold the line, to buy you as much time as we can. Both say "I love you", "I'm sorry", and variations on, "I know you can do this."

Arwen made the Choice of Elros several decades ago: to live among Men as a Man, to take up queenship of a people at the start of a new Age of the World and rule until most of those she loved most had passed and it was time to follow as a Man. Now she faces the Choice of Elwing: to leave most of those she loved the most for dead and flee with Silmaril in hand and only the hope of the impossible to save a doomed continent.

(Or, if she was optimistic, the Choice of Lúthien: to face down the Lord of Death and demand back one single most beloved [for Aragorn could not live while Sauron triumphed], and steal him away for many peaceful decades ere doom fell entirely, their own best efforts done. But Lúthien had been, in her glorious way, very selfish, and Arwen was not.)

The reason I haven't started writing this fic and probably never will is that I have a perfect sense of what I believe kids call the vibes - the mood, the tone, themes, the visual and emotional aesthetic - and none of actual, like, events of the story.

It's about Arwen's final trial of leadership and diplomacy, before she (hopefully) takes up a throne of Gondor, being living with Dwarves for three months under threat and then fact of war. Helping in the infirmary. Participating in strategy discussions, because war isn't her area of expertise but she has participated a few times, in her nearly 3,000 years of life. Mediating as a neutral party on inevitable conflicts between Dwarves the Men, especially in the last week and a half when they're under high stress while besieged together with two kings dead in the field.

Carrying a torch in the deep corridors of the Mountain because she's Mannish enough not to see naturally in the dark. Standing extra watches because she's Elvish enough to see well in starlight, especially if the Star in question is her grandfather; and getting scouting reports from the local thrushes, because they're talkative and Melian's heirs have always had a knack for the speech of birds.

Busying herself with sewing a banner for Aragorn, with jewel-stars and a crown of mithril and gold - for her elders have appointed her as their last hope, and she shall hold it for them and for all the people she can save if in the end she must; but her Estel fights in the field. The night the armies of Mordor cross the river to strike at Dale, she stands on the summit of the Lonely Mountain and calls a friend among the Eagles, who takes the finished banner in her talons and bears it south to where Arwen's brothers and cousins ride to Aragorn's side.

(She shares dreams with him sometimes - but she must keep secret a thought that beats in her like a heartbeat, and he must devote all his thought to the quest and the war. So they don't speak much.)

It's about the crushing weight of history and legacy and the very practical matters of running a kingdom in duress. It's about multicultural exchange. It's about love and hope and a hundred different OCs, most of whom will never be recorded in history books even if they die heroically or steal siege-stores to sell on the black market, or simply live and thus deserve to do so. It's about hard work and mortality.

It's about how 77 years after the Battle of Five Armies, Dain II Ironfoot swings his axe until he falls defending the body of Brand King of Dale, son of Baird son of Bard the Dragonslayer, and their people all take refuge in the Mountain together; and Arwen tends the wounded with the Songs she learned from her father and the neat stitches her mother taught her for first cloth, then skin; and she walks among the frightened people - none of them remotely her people; Dwarves and entirely common Men, mostly descended from easterners migrating slowly west - and knows that if these are all she can save, she will gladly die or live as she must in order to do so; and the people hearken a little to see her pass by with starlight in her eyes and on her breast.

And then - after an eternity of painful anticipation, after what feels like no time at all - the Shadow passes, and the wait and tension abruptly lift.

They very much do still have to go defeat that army before the gates, though.

[honestlyboringperson]

Team BEST in the Persona 5 AU! Skizz looks like utter dogshit because I can’t draw muscles! Sorry Skizz!

Also yes, Etho’s outfit is partially based on @/spell-struck’s Arcana Swap AU design for Yusuke. Go check it out! Their designs are amazing.

Again, More Information is under the cut.

Southlanders

The Scottage + Gem

Fairy Fort

Magical Mountain + Cub

Bdubs - “Scout” - The Lovers Arcana - Peter Pan/Orobas

A man of short stature and an even shorter fuse, Bdubs is a college student pursuing a degree in architecture and is known for his dubious ability to immediately know what field someone should go into. Be it art, film, or even just mathematics, his judgement is never wrong which led him to be recruited into a local theatre troupe to help with casting members to roles. This causes him to befriend a certain young prodigy actor who specializes in theatrically heroic protagonists and bombastically charismatic villains.

His persona is Peter Pan who is a famous pop culture character. Peter Pan is known for his devil may care attitude and his claims of greatness. His abilities allow himself and others to fly, and in this AU, Bdubs is known for uplifting others with both his scouting abilities and work as a phantom thief. Bdubs is also quite boastful, also fitting with Peter Pan’s character.

His Ultimate Persona is Orobas, a Great Prince of Hell and a Goetic Demon. He is the patron of horses, and gives power and control over others. He also can protect people from evil spirits and is clairvoyant. No wonder Bdubs “Horsegirl Supreme” got this guy as his ultimate persona.

Etho - “Shade” - The Hanged Man Arcana - Arahabaki/Inari-Okami

Etho is a mysterious college student known throughout the campus as being aloof, quiet, and even possibly dangerous. Those close to him know he’s just socially awkward. At a young age, he is known for his inventions in engineering and was presented with several scholarships to several prestigious institutions across the city. Unfortunately, he is horrendously bad at anything that isn’t engineering, with his apartment in shambles and his diet mostly consisting of energy drinks and a wide variety of instant ramen.

Arahabaki is a Japanese god of uncertain origin, with this particular portrayal & the one in the Shin Megami Tensei franchise being mainly inspired by the forgery by Tsugaru Soto-Sangunshi. They are a symbol of treachery, rebellion, and heresy after Emperor Jimmu found his enemy Nagasunehiko worshipped him.

Inari Okami is the kami of foxes, fertility, rice, tea, and general worldly success. They are the reason several shrines in Japan have fox statues and they are known for their ability to shapeshift. Their entourage was made up of pure white kitsune, categorized as “zenko” as opposed to the malicious “yako” kitsune.

Skizz - “Knight” - The Justice Arcana - Templar/Heracles

Skizz is Impulse’s best friend and former police officer. He currently works as a construction worker, but helps Impulse with his smithing business. He was fired after directly opposing the corruption that began to spread throughout the city’s police force, and his name was slandered. Despite these tragedies, he keeps a goofy and cheerful demeanour throughout his days. Despite no longer being in the police force, he will not overlook anything he sees as harmful.

Templar, full name Simon Templar is a Robin Hood figure coined “The Saint”. His calling card consists of a stick figure with a halo, and said calling cards were often given to corrupt politicians, warmongers, and other similar low-lives. He was described as “a buccaneer in the suits of Savile Row, amused, cool, debonair, with hell for leather blue eyes, and a saintly smile.”

Heracles is a famed Roman hero, and is considered the god of strength and heroes. He is most known for his tale of the twelve labours, wherein he completes twelve labours set by King Eurystheus to atone for killing his family after Hera makes him temporarily lose his mind. These tasks were aided by his allies and finished with a combination of strength, trickery, and camaraderie.

Tango - “Blaze” - The Magician Arcana - Guy Fawkes/Nimrod

Tango is a popular novelist and D&D master, known for his works in the fantasy horror novel franchise “Decked Out”. Although the original novels were made to satisfy his own desire to tell a compelling story, he becomes severely creatively blocked and is unable to keep up with the demands of his fans. After joining, he’s trying to start fresh with a new franchise, and is currently looking for inspiration for a new novel with the help of Jimmy.

Guy Fawkes is a key figure behind the infamous & controversial Gunpowder Plot. The Gunpowder Plot was a planned regicide, with several barrels of gunpowder being hidden within or near the House of Parliament, with Guy Fawkes being in charge of the explosives. The plan was to blow up the Parliament with the King James I inside and instate a Catholic monarch to the throne. Despite the motives being questionable, the plan failed and all the offenders, Guy Fawkes include were executed for treason. Today, in celebration of the king’s survival and the failure of the plan or simply enjoying the festivities, Bonfire Night was created, with several bonfires, fireworks, and other similar events taking place.

Nimrod is the architect of the Tower of Babel and is known as a king who rebelled against god themselves. The Tower of Babel was intended to reach towards the heavens, but God struck it down and changed the language of the people so they could no longer understand each other and scatters them across the earth.

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Daddy's Little Girl

Yandere Miles Quaritch x Female Human Reader

"Baby, come out come come out wherever you are." Miles Quaritch cooed as jogged around the trees of the forest.

You put a hand over your mouth and stood still as you hid from that insane man.

How did it come to this? You were a missionary Doctor sent to Pandora to aid the native Navis from the invasion of humans. You were fighting your own kind so Miles and his followers would go back to earth and go to jail for their crimes.

The hospital was looted and so were you. Quaritch kidnapped you to heal his followers. But, sadly he was attracted to you. He flirted with you at first and when you refused to yield to him. He got angry and annoyed and not to mention insulted by your rejection. He raped you. He was about to kill you but changed his mind for some reason.

He locked you in his room and all to himself.

He was a dirty old man.

You managed to drug his drink for a short time. But sadly, Navis recover more quickly than humans. So, Quaritch immediately ran for you.

Oh, he will punish you slowly. He will not kill you. But, you will regret that stunt. 

He fucking hated you for making him sappy and pathetic. So putty and pussy like. He was mad that you made him love you 

He raped women in the past human and Navi women. Then he would kill them or leave them. But not you.

You put him under a spell.

He admitted he was mean to you. He punished you for a crime you couldn't control. But, he still blamed you.

He would never admit to being wrong. Who wouldn't run from his abuse?

He then remembered he was a Navi. He used his sense and smell 

Baby powder, rose water, and vanilla. He ran to your hiding place behind a certain tree. He grinned devilishly showing his fang teeth.

You shrieked in surprise. He grabbed you and carried you bridal style back to his room. He threw you on his king sized bed and hovered over you before you reacted.

He was breathing hard like a beast. His face is close to yours. "Thought you could get away? Huh, smart ass?"

You turned your face away but he grabbed it making you look at him.

"Listen, slut. If you run away again, I will kill all your captured friends. I know you don't care about your own life."

Your eyes widened. He figured you out. Some comrades were also taken by the enemy.

You lowered your chin in submission.

Quaritch smirked in victory and dominance.

"Daddy will punish you now, baby girl "

And so he did. After Quaritch was done with you, you had to go to the emergency room to get stitches on your vagina. He inserted his long Navi penis all the way in. He also bit you hard around your body. Little fang holes here and there.

Quaritch was leaning against the wall with his muscular and veiny arms crossed in frustration. He sighed as he waited for the surgeon to come out of the emergency room 

Perhaps he went to far 

His damaged ego caused him to be way too harsh on you.

But damn you!

You brought this shit on yourself.

Maybe he should be nice….

His dad did say that there will be a time in his life where every man will settle down with the love of his life. Quaritch didn't believe all that romance bullshit till now.

Maybe you were the one for him.

Fuck. Why an enemy though?

Maybe if he showed you his sweet side, he would butter you up and swoon you over to his arms willingly.

Not a bad idea. 

He wasn't using you. He really meant it. He does really love you. But you get on his nerves with your rebelliousness. 

Fine. He made a promise to himself to show manners.

The doctor came out and told Quaritch that you will need rest before sex again.

Quaritch nodded and thanked the doctor.

He went inside and found you awake in a dazed state from drugs.

"Hey, baby. I'm sorry for hurting you."

You said nothing but breathed in your oxygen mask.

"Just be a good girl for Daddy and not only will not be nice but I will reward you with privileges."

You gulped.

"Do we have a deal, darling?" He stroked your hair.

You nodded quickly in fear.

Quaritch smiled and offered the flowers he picked for you.

[matan4il]

hi quick question: what do u know about the lavender ai post that's circulating? i saw it on this fact checking blog i follow and they made it seem legit but im not convinced

Hi Nonnie!

Before I get into this specific subject, I just wanna tell you that for me personally, this war has been an eye opener about how little some "fact checking" sites are worth. I've read several articles on that type of site, which could have used some fact checking themselves. In some cases, they had author names attached to them, and when checking the authors out, it was easy to find that they were not free of bias themselves. So... yeah. Take "fact checking sites" with a grain of salt. Even journalists sometimes get it wrong, and they're held to higher standards, and have more personal accountability, than most "fact checking sites," not to mention that the latter often simply rely on a selection of journalistic sources, but sometimes without really taking into account which are reliable, and which aren't.

As for the lavender AI issue specifically, I heard it briefly referenced on the news, during a discussion panel, and it was brought up in the context of recent conspiracy theories about Israel. The panelists were so clear on how obviously false these all were, they didn't even really get into refuting any of them.

A bit like how, in the past, when watching panelists discussing antisemitic tropes reincarnated as anti-Israel lies, I saw them bring up the one claiming Israel set up a field hospital in Haiti after the earthquake in order to harvest organs, which is obviously a new version of "the Jews are bloodthirsty" without bothering to refute it, because to Israelis, it's evident that it's bullshit. Not only because we're aware that we're not actually those evil creatures, lusting for death and destruction, that the anti-Israel crowd likes to portray us as, but also because we know that the constant terrorist attacks here have made Israel a world leader in the field of emergency medicine (here's an example: even the antisemitic UN had to admit an IDF unit was the best medical emergency team in the world), so that's the actual reason we set up that field hospital, much like we use our experience to help others in basically every disaster around the world that's willing to accept aid from Israel (and sometimes we operate even in places like Syria, where technically, we're defined as an enemy state, so all of the aid had to be provided directly to private people, and while keeping their identity a secret, so their own government can't presecute them for receiving it).

Anyway, since the TV discussion didn't get into refuting what they clearly saw as an absurd, hateful lie, I went online in search of more info, and found that this news venturing into mainstream media happened in The Guardian, a British news source known for its anti-Israel bias, to the point where a female black, non-Jewish journalist of theirs felt the need to point it out all the way back in 2003, and in Nov 2023, a Jewish employee of theirs had published a personal piece about feeling unsafe there, and looking for another place of employment. But the source that The Guardian is quoting, is actually not a proper journalistic publication, it's an anti-Israel propaganda blog based magazine, which includes Israeli anti-Zionists and Palestinians, publishing in English since its audience is very much not Israelis despite claiming that they want to inspire change in Israel, and responsible for systematically vilifying the country and spreading lies about it.

If I, as an Israeli, thought that something was wrong with a system the IDF is using, and wanted to see real change in my army, I wouldn't go to a publication that isn't journalistic in nature, that doesn't publish in a local language, that most Israelis have never heard about, and that those who did, don't trust, because of its known anti-Israel reputation. That in itself makes me suspicious.

The IDF gave a statement in response to questions presented by The Guardian, based on the aforementioned piece. It's a bit long, but here are the main references to the claimed AI system Lavender (emphasis added by me):

Some of the claims portrayed in your questions are baseless in fact, while others reflect a flawed understanding of IDF directives and international law.

The process of identifying military targets in the IDF consists of various types of tools and methods, including information management tools, which are used in order to help the intelligence analysts to gather and optimally analyze the intelligence, obtained from a variety of sources. Contrary to claims, the IDF does not use an artificial intelligence system that identifies terrorist operatives or tries to predict whether a person is a terrorist. Information systems are merely tools for analysts in the target identification process. According to IDF directives, analysts must conduct independent examinations, in which they verify that the identified targets meet the relevant definitions in accordance with international law and additional restrictions stipulated in the IDF directives.

The “system” your questions refer to is not a system, but simply a database whose purpose is to cross-reference intelligence sources, in order to produce up-to-date layers of information on the military operatives of terrorist organizations. This is not a list of confirmed military operatives eligible to attack.

For each target, IDF procedures require conducting an individual assessment of the anticipated military advantage and collateral damage expected. Such assessments are not made categorically in relation to the approval of individual strikes. The assessment of the collateral damage expected from a strike is based on a variety of assessment methods and intelligence-gathering measures, in order to achieve the most accurate assessment possible, considering the relevant operational circumstances. The IDF does not carry out strikes when the expected collateral damage from the strike is excessive in relation to the military advantage. In accordance with the rules of international law, the assessment of the proportionality of a strike is conducted by the commanders on the basis of all the information available to them before the strike, and naturally not on the basis of its results in hindsight.

The IDF outright rejects the claim regarding any policy to kill tens of thousands of people in their homes.

Some things about the claims in that piece don't work out IMO. Like, the number of fatalities if indeed there's an AI system, which produced a list of 37,000 Hamas and PIJ terrorists, with an automatic green light to kill between 15 to 100 civilians per each, especially in the first months of the war, and even assuming they couldn't target them all during that period of time (we do know most Hamas units have been destroyed). There are about 1,500 terrorists in a Hamas battalion (source in Hebrew), and 4 are left in Rafah, so only about 6,000 Hamas terrorists are in the last area the IDF has not operated in yet. That would mean roughly 31,000 terrorists were accessible targets. Just for the sake of erring on the side of caution, let's assume 10 killed civilians per Hamas terrorist, instead of that piece's claimed 15-100 approved per target. This would produce somewhere around 341,000 people killed in the first months alone. Let's go even lower, let's say 5 civilians killed per terrorist instead of 15-100. That would mean 186,000 killed during those months. We are exactly 6 months into the war, and even Hamas' numbers (likely inflated) don't claim more than 33,000 as the total number of fatalities. The given numbers and directives in that so-called "article" just don't match the reality on the ground, but claim to explain it, and to prove that Israel is being callous with civilians' lives in Gaza.

I'll also add that the AI-based decision making described doesn't take into account the possible presence and harm to the lives of Israeli hostages held captive in Gaza. That's another thing that makes me doubt that piece, because the IDF commanders have repeatedly stated their commitment to bringing back all the hostages, and as many alive as possible, and Israeli soldiers more than once risked their own lives to get them out, whether it was living people, or the bodies of Israelis who deserve to get to be buried back home, with their loved ones there, as in tact as possible. This scenario only works if we assume the Israeli commanders and soldiers have no sentiment for the lives of their own kidnapped civilians.

I guess that's what the piece's aim is. To play on people's fears of AI determining whether people will live or die, and to paint Israel as an evil, unfeeling, bloodthirsty entity, capable of anything, including of the inhumanity of letting computers decide the fate of human beings. The ease and speed with which people believe this, and spread this notion, before anyone has verified that Lavender is anything other than a database, just like the IDF says, feels like a demonstration of how all antisemitic blood libels are spread.

I hope this helped!

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