#from Reader of the Ashes

[holylulusworld]

Rise from the ashes (2) – Out of the woods

Summary: You’re abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, werewolf au, fluff

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

Catch up here: Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Rise from the ashes masterlist

His words still ring in your ears when Ari carefully cuts the ropes binding your wrists open. Ari’s features darken when he tugs the ropes into his pocket.

He cannot risk leaving any trace of you behind. A skilled alpha could easily find you after catching your scent on the ropes.

“How could they do this to me, and the others?” You murmur while he gently rubs the sore skin. “We followed the rules and tried anything to be good omegas.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, concern coloring his features. “For years, they send an omega into the woods. Every year, at the same time.” Ari runs his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. He curses himself for not bringing his jacket.

“I—” You sniffle, remembering how Alpha Prime betrayed you. “They said something about a forest god. I never heard anything about them before.”

“I assume it has something to do with an old legend. It was said that in the depths of the woods, a forbidden god is fulfilling your darkest desires. I never believed in fairytales, though,” he recalls what he remembers. “If I remember right, there was a catch. You must sacrifice something innocent and pure to fulfill your wishes.”

Ari crouches down. He carefully lifts one of your legs to take your shoe off. You hiss as the blisters only got worse, and your feet are bleeding now.

“It hurts,” you whine. “I shouldn’t have chosen these shoes.” You glance at the pretty but uncomfortable shoes you chose for the ceremony.

Ari helps you sit down to take your other shoe off. “Give me a minute. Stay here, omega. I’ll be right back to help you with your feet.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the cold. “I’ll be waiting here.” Ari is still a stranger, but somehow you know he doesn’t mean any harm to you.

“Here, take this.” He takes off his shirt. “It’s not much, but my scent will keep the animals and rogues away.”

You lift your arms, allowing Ari to help you put his shirt on. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Not only for the shirt. You’ve saved me.”

“How could I  not save my mate,” he laughs before disappearing into the darkness. You hold your breath, trying to follow him with your eyes, but the moon doesn’t provide light any longer.

You gnaw at your lower lip, praying to whoever is listening for the alpha to return. If not, you’d be lost forever in the woods, a feast for the rogues or any animal.

“Hey, you need to calm down,” Ari softly says as he returns. “I’m here. No one is going to hurt you with me by your side.”

The alpha crouches down, his eyes fiery red again to help him see your feet. He chews something before spitting it into his palm. “Angel, this will burn for a moment, but your feet will heal faster.”

Ari carefully rubs the mixture of his spit, herbs, and grass onto your feet. You whimper when the mixture touches the raw flesh. “I promise it will help with the pain too,” Ari murmurs. He makes quick work, rubbing the mixture into your skin. “All done. You can’t walk anymore.”

“We can’t stay here.” You panic. What if Ari decides to leave you here because you cannot walk? “I need to bring you somewhere safe. I scared the rogues off, but this doesn’t mean that others won’t try to get their pound of flesh.”

You grab your shoes, trying your best to get up. “What are you doing?” Ari is fast to stop you. He brings you into his arm, pressing you close to his warm chest. “I said you cannot walk. I’ll carry you.”

“You can’t carry me around the woods! It’s pitch black and monsters are lurking in the dark,” you sniffle. “You’ll be an easy target.”

He laughs, deep and rich. “Trust me,” he snarls, eyes dropping to your chest. “The only monster within these woods is me. And I’ll always find my way back home in the dark.”

Ari didn’t lie. He ran through the woods for what felt like hours, only stopping to listen to the noises in the woods.

He snarled now and then before running again. You could only press your head against his shoulder and let him carry you around.

“Almost there, angel. Hang on. I know it’s cold and you must be exhausted,” he murmured, sniffing at your hair. Ari inhales deeply, purring low in his throat. “I’ll bring you home.

You nod against him, too worn out and tired to speak. Ari starts to run again, but this time he doesn’t stop until you reach a considerable cabin, nestled deep in the woods.

He carries you inside, immediately placing you on a comfortable couch in front of a fireplace. “I’ll get you food and water, angel. I know you’re tired, but you need to eat and drink something before I clean your feet and bandage them.”

You snuggle into a pillow, sighing as you are about to drift into sleep. “You need to stay awake for now.” Ari softly says. “Here, eat and drink something first. I’ll take care of your feet now.”

Just now, you realize you’re starving. Your stomach growls loudly when you look at the sandwich Ari made for you. Without thinking twice, you grab the sandwich and dig in. Whatever happens after is out of your control.

While you eat, Ari gently cleans your feet and bandages them. “I know you’d love to take a bath after running through the woods, but you need a rest now. I’ll help you bathe tomorrow, promised.”

“Where are we?” You finally dare to ask.

“My home,” he replies. “I won’t hurt you.” Ari cups your face with one big hand. “I promise to answer all of your questions tomorrow too. For now, you need to sleep.”

“Sleep,” you mumble, half-asleep. “I’m so tired.” He hums and picks you up again to carry you upstairs.

“You can rest now. I’ll make sure they don’t follow us.” His eyes flash red for a moment, and you sigh again. Content for the first time since you left your pack…

[kingtomura]

Ashes to ashes

Summary: Even in the cold aftermath of the war, Tenko rests knowing he's not alone cw: tomura shigaraki x female reader, fix it fic, fluff, drabble, how its actually going to end tbh wc: 742

Everything is bright. 

It’s the first thing he could think of as he blinks his eyes open. The sluggish movements paired with the rhythmic beeping of a machine next to him made it all feel more jarring. 

Once the blurring of his vision cleared he had a better idea of his situation. 

He’s in the hospital. 

There is a window, a machine monitoring his vitals and

You. 

Your head is down as you sat by the side of his bed, the slow breathing of your form clueing him in on your current sleeping status. 

How long have you been here? At his side as he lie in a hospital bed for god knows how long? 

His heart — feeling new, feeling warm aches in ways that have nothing to do with the soreness of his other muscles. 

It makes him reach out to you, his hands are bandaged, but he knows decay no longer rests within him. He knows the quirk was destroyed along with his hatred, yet he still maintains a lifted finger as he pets the top of your resting head. 

Somehow you were so comfortable sleeping at an awkward angle — leaning over onto his bed as you sat next to him in your chair. 

It’s cute. 

You’re cute. 

He feels a smile pull at his features, it grows even bigger as you stir, waking to the disturbance. 

Your eyes are slow as they open and he can only feel himself relax as you look at him again. 

He thought he’d never see you again. 

“Tenko.” Your voice is soft, heavy with sleep as you speak and the words waver with the tears filling your eyes. “Thank god you’re awake.”

Yes, Tenko, no longer Tomura Shigaraki. It feels like a dream, but that part of him died with the end of the war. Only the embers of his true being remaining to be born again from the ashes. 

Your hand catches his and there is no fear in your movements. You are not afraid of him — you were never afraid of him. 

You’ve always loved him throughout it all. 

“How long have you been here?” He drags himself to ask, voice hoarse from lack of use and Tenko can see the way your shoulders shake as you struggle to answer — as you struggle to fight the tears. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Is your only response as you rise from your chair, knocking it back from the force of your movements as you race to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. 

It’s tight and it presses on the bandages all over his body but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s just content with you being the first thing he sees as he came to. 

He doesn’t acknowledge your shaking sobs, knowing you would get on to him about calling you a crybaby. No, he allows you this moment, pulling you in closer and burying his nose into the crook of your neck. 

“I was so scared, Tenko,” you start, words breaking free from the confines of your mind, “I thought you were gone for good.”

He rubs soothing motions onto your back, pulling you in tighter. “I thought I was, too.”

The words only make you cry harder, the tears make his heart ache along with the pain throughout his body now. 

“I love you, I love you so much,” you murmur, and he knows. He’s always known. “Please don’t ever leave me again.”

Tenko pulls you back, forehead now resting against yours and — god, he knows you would hate to hear him say it, but he can’t help it. He thinks you’re cute in all forms, even when crying. 

“I,” he pauses and looks at you, really looks at you — and seeing his entire world in your eyes only brings the sting of unfamiliar tears. “I love you, too. I won’t leave your side again.”

He brings you in for a kiss, a gentle press of his lips against yours and you take all that you can, eyes closing and head tilting. 

Tenko pulls away and it’s brief only to mutter a firm, “I promise.”

Then he’s back, kissing you like his life depended on it. 

Even so close to you, he knows the warm tears trailing down his face were his own. The burn of them is unmistakable. Tenko can only bring himself to smile into the kiss, feeling anew. 

He can’t remember the last time he cried. 

[amarilke]

Chapter 9 of With love, for Minibug by @frostedpuffs came out yesterday and it was so sweet (つ╥﹏╥)つ spoiler art under the line ▽▽▽

This scene, your honour! Σ(ಥ_ಥ)

Disclaimer: I’m sharing my art as fan work, with no commercial use or agenda. All credits for Miraculous’ characters go to the original creators and trademark owners. Chat's new design and Minibug are by frostedpuffs.

[alrightberries]

LOVE SHOT | m.list

PAIRING: bakugou katsuki x reader

SUMMARY: katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight. falling in love with a fuckin' smile? give him a fuckin' break.

then you come along, with a belt full of knives and a garter full of guns and– well, technically you were smiling when you pulled the trigger.

TAGS & WARNINGS: assassin reader and pro-hero bkg, enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, weapons & violence

A/N: a prequel to this drabble

01. GENTLEMEN PREFER ASSASSINS

02. WHISKEY (ON THE ROCKS)

03. SANTA, BABY

04. CHAINS OF LOVE

05. CASABLANCA

06. FALL FROM GRACE

07. TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

[saveyourblood]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Reader, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Original Character(s), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Original Female Character(s), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Reader, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Athena Grant, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz & Howie "Chimney" Han & Bobby Nash & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Bobby Nash, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley, Original Female Character(s), Reader, paramedic!reader - Character Additional Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Medical Procedures, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Fluff, Medical Jargon, No use of y/n, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, LLF Project

Summary:

You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window.

The one where you're an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt.52

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, MC POV

Words: 3731

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21 

Part 22 Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26 Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44

Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55

There were whispers in the darkness of your mind as you find yourself unconscious. The last thing you could recall was a large tail slamming into the much smaller figure of Latilth.

Even when you try to listen in on these soft murmurs, it slips between your fingers. It was a darkness you were unfamiliar with. A nothingness to it. When you'd found yourself knocked into a state of numb sleep, you'd usually dream in flames. The Warrior as you once had called your future self would be there to comfort you or even the caressing voice of your mother. You were frozen, suspended in a fetal position. You knew you had to move. That you couldn't waste time. Outside was a battle raging against the Morghons, darkin and members of the Red Temple. As much as you try and peel your eyelids open, it's useless. Wherever you were, you weren't going anywhere any time soon.

At least it gives you time to ruminate over what the ancient ones had said. That you would actually lead to doom. They'd seen it in their own visions and were so convinced that they would stop at nothing to see you dead and their Shadowlands safe. Quite contradictory compared to the visions which Thalina and Alizah had concerning you ending the Long Night.

So far whatever they had foretold came to fruition. The Morghons, while old and powerful beings, couldn't be trusted. You used to not be comfortable with the title of R'hllor's Champion. Impossible when all your life you'd been treated as a lesser being even if you were the Warden of the West's daughter. You'd been in disbelief like your brother at a daunting prospect as that. Now, after spending months at the temple and speaking with Azor Ahai himself, you accept everything as truth. The fire-reading red priestesses had been right. Thalina had seen you in Westeros; even better was the future she saw of you and Latilth. Lightbringer was in your possession and you could control it's divine fire. Daft you would be if you still thought all of it hogwash.

Doubt had always had a home in your heart. Nestled tightly into your being like a tick. But not anymore. Training and Latilth helped you to pinch off that parasitic thing. The Morghons threatened to infect you once again with it. You shouldn't listen to them. Not until they provided you with irrefutable proof. You couldn't believe them blindly.

Affirmations ringing in your subconscious, you once more attempt to will life into any muscle that was willing to respond. That's when you hear the strong, pounding thud of someone's heart beating. Whose mighty heart reached out to you?

Finally your eyes flutter open to see the stunned, single blue eye of Inniros staring right back at you.

In retrospect, it wasn't your smartest idea to willingly go with the Morgans. Honestly, it was downright suicidal.

"You can't go." Weles grabs onto your arm in an attempt to stop you. "Nuha kosh-"

"They'll keep coming back." You remind him. "They will not give up until they have me dead or alive."

Even when you turn to Rhiannon for some sense of support you find her face struck with horror and her own hand reaching out to you. Her large gold eyes beg you not to make such a dangerous decision. If you had a dream of changing their minds, it was to insist upon evidence that you would be the reason for basically the end of days. From your peripheral, you watch them as they wait for you. They were patient enough, already knowing that they had won the battle. Their powers and dragon were too great, even for the many darkin you had in your arsenal.

"(y/n), wait for the masters to come back." Jalsolin whispers, his own eyes were fixed on the trio of faceless figures. Their own massive winged beast, who possessed scales that appear to be crafted from the very essence of the sea itself. Beautiful it would be were it not for the fact that it had nearly killed both you and Latilth. "They'll know what to do."

While everyone else is staring at the Morghons, Ray and Melisandre are regarding you in an oddly tender way. They. . . They trusted you. You want to ask them if they'd seen anything in their flame reading earlier that day. Anything that may aid you. Ray merely closes his eyes and consents with a gentle head nod of encouragement. Melisandre pulls back Rhiannon with a tender hand that appears ghost white against the red of Rhiannon's dress. About to protest, she looked into the scarlet eyes and saw the calm and reassurance. Helplessly, she turns back to you, her eyebrows still furrowed, but the severity of her frown has lessened. Her hand that had been outstretched lowers to grip at her skirt. Loviisa and Ulian appeared to be waiting for the outcome.

"Do you really think they'll be enough to stop them?" You ask the copper-blonde darkin who seemed to deflate even more at the question for even he didn't know. "Who knows when they'll get here anyway. My best option is trying to change their mind on killing me."

Everyone is quiet, accepting your choice albeit with great hesitation. Finally you look at Inniros and Latilth. Your heart broke to see fresh blood on her creamy scales and her putting weight on only one of her haunches. She wouldn't be able to go with you. Your eyes prickle with the hurt her absence was already having on you. What would you do without her warmth?

Inniros regards Latilth and her injuries, nearly reading your mind before turning to you. "I'll take care of her." While his voice was monotone as usual, you saw the flicker of his promise and how serious he would take it. His eyepatch was still gone, exhibiting a concave hollow in his skull where the eyeball used to be. Scars line the edges speaking of a forceful removal of his orb. He wasn't handsome, not like Rhaegar or Jaime but you were beginning to find his sullen features charming as he had gained more color to his features since leaving Volantis.

You'd also grown used to his quiet company, especially when sleeping under the stars.

You purse your lips and turn your heels to leave until something sharp yanks at your scalp. Yelping, you swirl back around to see Inniros with a strand of blonde hair between his forefinger and thumb. You gape while having a hand pressed to your head but there's a glint on his face that has you shutting your mouth. Without speaking he hands it to a prepared Loviisa who deftly puts it into one of the folds in her dress for safekeeping.

Of course you couldn't leave before wrapping your arms around Latilth's neck. Her sad cooing strikes you in your chest. "Nyke'll sagon arlī, ñuha jorrāelagon mēre. (I'll be back, my dear one.)" In understanding, she closes her eyes and presses into your embrace. "Sagon sȳz se sagon kostōba.(Be good and be strong.)"

Painful to pull away from her, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to prevent it from trembling but also to distract that tears that wanted to spill free onto your cheeks. Like parting with your own soul. You had to trust in yourself just as much as they were trusting you to return safely. None of them blink as they watch you walk up to the Morghons. Fearless, you glance up at them.

With no lips, their mouth can't help but gape open revealing many sharp teeth. You don't know how they were able to see with no eyes but all three of them appear to be 'looking' at you with tilted heads of intrigue. Tattered garb flutters around them, robes that must have been centuries old but there wasn't a stain on it despite being held together by stretched out threads. With no nose, they breathe through their mouth in almost a hissing manner, low and piercing that has the small hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. Unable to control the flopping of your own stomach at the sight of them, you walk right past and to the dragon that watches you with dull eyes. For as massive as it was, long cuts from Latilth's teeth and claws are still bleeding freely. Obeying a silent command from it's masters, it lowers a long neck and crouches on haunches so that you could climb atop of it. Scales rough and jutting out allows you to climb easily up it's side. Your body aches and lets out a protest with pangs of pain in your joints. You were spared any real injuries from your fall. You didn't exactly know how, but you only suffered from terrible bruises. Even so, the climb up wasn't the easiest. The Morghons were already there, having teleported thanks to their power without offering you a hand. That was fine by you. The last thing you wanted from them was help. You didn't want them touching you.

With a single wave of their hands, they summoned intricate runes in the air, weaving a spell of stability around you that assured you would not fall off during your flight. Undertone being that you would also be unable to escape even if you changed your mind. The spell formed a shimmering, translucent barrier that cocooned you in a safe but restricting embrace.

Under you, you felt the massive body stretch it's wings preparing to take flight into the sky. Immense power trembled beneath you, its muscles flexing as it readied itself for the soaring ascent. Even with the spell keeping you pinned to its wide and expansive back, you find yourself clenching down. Muscles coiled like springs, and then with a sudden surge of energy, it launched itself into the air. You couldn't say you were riding it exactly. You were more of a passenger since you doubt anyone could successfully fly him without the muzzle of magic that the Morghons had on it.

There would be no last looks goodbye as the ground became more distant, the figures of your friends becoming specks with indiscernible features. For the first time in years, you would be completely alone. A daunting thought, but you didn't want your mind to linger on that, though. Nothing good would come of you lingering on your solidarity.

Intense wind whips your eyes dry so that you are forced to squeeze them tightly and press yourself further into the rough scales beneath you. Roaring gusts assault your ears and you shove your hands to dull that sense as well. Twice now you'd be able to boast of being atop of a dragon, unfortunately neither time had been exactly pleasant. Each time you were too concerned about your life to really enjoy the thrill of riding a dragon. While you were admittedly scared for what you would find going with them, you wouldn't as scared as you would have been years ago. Even going to Dragonstone all alone at a young age had you crying each night. Thalina kept you company in those early days. She'd noticed early on how nervous you would get when nighttime fell and you were reluctant to go to bed. She didn't spare a second thought when curling next to you in your bed, lulling you peacefully to sleep with stories of dragons and their riders. Now you faced things with a bit more grit. You wouldn't be reduced to tears although you knew you would miss Latilth and everyone else greatly.

Barely able to peel one eyelid open, you find yourself high up in the sky, among the fluffy clouds and wide expanse of blue. The wind had died done as the massive dragon kept an easy glide now. You look off to either side of you at the vast wingspan and the small holes you see in the thin membrane. This was definitely a dragon that had been through strife in it's life. Remembering Latilth trying to dislodge that odd crystal from it's back, your eyes wander to the nape of it's neck where it was still securely wedged between scales and flesh. The red of it shimmers as if its alive. Something in you coils unpleasantly as you keep staring at it. Latilth had been trying so desperately to get it off. It had to be what was controlling this dragon.

Two Morghons have their backs to you while one watches you intently. It must be the same way Alizah can see you despite the fact that she was blind. Robes that you could now see were a faded dark purple swirl about his gold adorned ankles that lead to ugly skeletal feet with long nails. It's head tilts from one side then slowly to the other as he regards you. With the breeze making it's hood flutter about, you could tell underneath was a bald head with gray skin and speckled resembling a robin's egg. You wished it would turn it's face away from you. Having it's entire attention on you was uncomfortable but you refused to be the first one to look away. You hold his eyeless stare boldly.

Not able to handle the silence though, you ask "Where are you taking me?"

"You wish to see for yourself the future that we see." It rasps out. "We are taking you back home to show you. Beyond the Mountains of the Morn and across the Hidden Sea from the City of the Winged Men. That is where we call home."

You attempt to conjure up an image of a map of the Shadowlands. Where it was describing was deep in the Shadowlands. Far past where anyone has ventured. The City of the Winged Men was where one of the darkin masters were from.

What kind of home could these things have? You were about to find out although now you were feeling trepidation sweating your hands. You were overly aware of your lack of Lightbringer. The red priestesses always said that Lightbringer was merely an extension of you and not your source of power. It helped to center that power, using the sword as a proxy. You hadn't tried to summon R'hllor's flames without your sword. Guessing that if the time came, your instincts would kick in. They always did in your greatest time of need.

There would be no more words shared as the Morghon who had been speaking to you turns it's back, once more facing away from you. Now you could relax if only a fraction.

Everyone watched as the Morghon's turquoise dragon disappeared out of sight, over the mountains, and gone. Weles cursed and angrily paced, trying to think of one thing that could have changed the outcome of the day. Blame eats at his brain, remembering the promise he made with the Golden Boy Jaime Lannister. He'd promised to keep an eye on her. Keep her safe. Remembered vowing in front of the High Priest himself that he would see you back to the temple safely. He was chief of the Fiery Hand, trained in both steel and the blessed magic of R'hllor. Ray watched the captain unfurl in his composure. Comfort was not what Weles wanted or needed in that moment. Pressing his lips firmly together, he does share a few hushed words with Melisandre. Even Jalsolin and Ulian are jittery and agitated. None of this sat right with them. Letting (y/n) go so easily. Surely, they should have fought harder.

Inniros continued to keep his eye trained to the sky, his hands occupied with soothing Latilth who was doing her best not to take off and follow her mistress. The she-dragon let out mournful trills, knowing she must stay behind.

He understands how the dragon feels, digging his own feet firmly into the dirt and mentally grounding himself there. At least he had taken a precaution. Pulling a strand of her hair for a location spell once the masters arrived. They could find her. The Morghons were powerful but even they couldn't strip their own shadows from themselves. There was nowhere they could hide, and the darkin wouldn't be able to find them. As long as shadows existed, they'd be able to find them. He just had to bide his time.

Like Inniros, Rhiannon found it impossible to remove her eyes from where the Morghon's dragon had just became a blip. Dread seized her and shook her in its grasp. Stubbornly, she tries to will her tears back into her eyes. (y/n) was by herself. She was completely alone with no ally from whom she could summon strength. Her mouth dries out, tongue heavy and coated in sand. There was nothing she could have done to stop this.

"Have faith, hāedar (little sister)." Thalina would tell her when she felt as though all hope were lost. Especially when they were starving on the streets.

And Rhiannon would pout, not liking that perpetual reply from her older sister. Sure, she read the scripture of R'hllor and studied to become a priestess in order to stay in the temple free of charge, but did she really believe? "But what is faith? Everyone is always droning on about it." She'd go on to mock the elder priests and priestesses. " 'Have faith in R'hllor child!'"

Thalina's peel of delighted laughter. She loved how her little sister was curious enough to ask questions. "Faith, my dear sister, is a flame that burns within our hearts, guiding us through the darkest of times."

For the night is dark and full of terrors. Yes, Rhiannon had heard plenty of that rhetoric and nearly drowned out Thalina's words until her older sister places a gentle hand against her cheek to draw back her attention. Thalina's pools of liquid sunshine captured within her gaze makes Rhiannon feel a burst of love for her sister.

"It's the unwavering belief that something greater than us watches over, protects, and cherishes us."

Rhiannon uses her arm to wipe her eyes.

"The first test of faith is always the most difficult one." Melisandre whispers, suddenly at Rhiannon's side.

"Did you see her coming back to us in the flames?" The younger girl sniffles, unwilling to meet Melisandre's attention.

"No. The flames were unwilling to yield a vision of her return. But, R'hllor offered us something else." She lingers, lets Rhiannon absorb that thought. "She will call upon the darkin." Her eyes roll over to Inniros who is speaking in a hushed tone with Loviisa. "The Morghons will see how wrong they were. They will see the power Azor Ahai Reborn wields."

Slowly being pulled from four dark spots in the earth, the figures of Master Batur, Lady Nazneen, Qheen and Syzhal appear but the paleness of their faces tell everyone that they already knew what had happened. Master Batur's jaw clenches down tightly and shoots Syzhal glower. "Find where Master Ameer is. Now."

She nods quickly. "Yes Master Batur." She sinks back into the ground.

"You're setting her up for failure." Lady Nazneen comments dryly. "You know as well as I know that Master Ameer always wears his amulets specifically so as not to be tracked. Not even by us."

He turns to his fellow darkin master. The severity of his face doesn't let up. "It's better than doing nothing at all. Syzhal was a good student of his and was quick to pick up weaving. If anyone could find Master Ameer, it's your Syzhal."

Lady Nazneen preens slightly at his comment toward her ward. Her pretty green eyes turn to Loviisa who is retrieving the strand of (y/n)'s hair that Inniros had yanked from her head before she was taken. Her long, elegant face carries an air of regality, framed by a cascade of luscious mauve hair that cascades gracefully down her back. Slender, dexterous fingers, she holds a strand of bright blonde hair. "I'll get started with this. Priestess." She turns to Melisandre and Rhiannon. "I could use both of your assistance."

It's obvious Melisandre doesn't trust Nazneen one bit. If it was to aid in her champion, she was willing to suck it up and lets the shadowdancer take her arm. Nazneen glances expectantly at Rhiannon. Over her shoulder, Latilth watches. The youngling was in good hands. She could trust Inniros to protect her.

"Kesi ūndegon zirȳla arlī (We will see her again)." Rhiannon says to the opal dragon. It's a promise more so for herself than for the benefit of Latilth. But Latilth had such a large understanding of humans and understands her. The anxiety that made Latilth jittery fades as Rhiannon's vow soothes her. She takes Nazneen's arm and the three of them disappear.

Ulian manages to wordlessly grab the attention of his master and he began signing to him. Hand signals conveyed his intention clearly—to venture after (y/n), to track the Morghons silently, and ensure her safety by keeping a vigilant eye on her. He would not interfere unless (y/n) was truly in danger at the last moment.

Master Batur grimaces. "No. You stay here." Steely blue flick over to Ray and Weles who still has the look like he's about to be sick. Inniros found the chief's face amusing. This was a new side to the strong Weles. "You have seen in your flames, have you not?"

He nods, his blonde hair shimmering though there was a fog thick above. This was the first time the darkin master had addressed the red priest. Ray had been a mostly silent fixture, only in the background just in case anyone required his intervention. That was the reason why he was added to their expedition. Only if his skill set was called of him. "She will call when she is ready."

Returning to Ulian, the darkin instructor tells him "Now is not the time. You risk yourself if you follow them. You are young and have not even traveled past the fallen city of Stygai. You will not survive out there by yourself."

The mute finds no help though his efforts are valiant. Inniros, Jalsolin and Qheen observe him. In the end, he had to obey his master. Numbly, Ulian nods and stands back with his brothers.

"What shall we do, Master Batur?" Jalsolin asks.

"We do what the darkin have always done: wait for Azor Ahai's summon."

Taglist:

@boywivlove

@esposadomd

@domoron

@yentroucnagol

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bregarc

[frickingnerd]

love triangle with godot & jake

pairing: godot / diego armando x gn!reader x jake marshall

tags: romantic rivalry / love triangle, reader was a victim of a crime & met the two, supportive!jake & godot

godot and jake met you like they meet most people in their profession; you were the victim of a crime and jake was the police officer that came to your aid, while godot was the prosecutor for your case!

both men had a little thing for you right away! sure, it wasn't professional at all, but they couldn't help but to be drawn to you right away

jake was there the day you got attacked on the street, offering you comfort right away and checking in on you regularly afterwards, to see how you were doing

by the time you met godot, you already knew jake pretty well, but the prosecutor still managed to leave an impression on you!

there was something mysterious about him, yet attractive as well, as he showed great concern for you and promised to win this case for you, to help you find peace!

as you spend more time with godot, jake became aware of him for the first time. he simply wanted to come by with coffee, only to find out there was already another man drinking coffee with you–!

the rivalry between godot and jake started almost immediately. the moment they laid eyes on each other, they knew that the other one had feelings for you as well!

whenever they were around each other, there was a palpable tension. each of them wanted you for themselves, but knew that if they rushed things, they'd only lose you!

[poraphia]

So piggy backing off the Wilbur x actor!y/n what if we’re an actor but we have to kiss someone for a scene and Wilbur is there watching us act if that makes sense 

"One Good Movie Kiss"

pairing • jealous!wilbur x actor! reader 2687 words • 9.4.23 containing • jealous wilbur, reader is an actor, wilbur and reader meet up after a while of not seeing each other. super super sorry to the anon that asked for this weeks ago! I've been putting it off for so long and I just feel so horribly guilty :c my masterlist ~! ღ mrs. mania ღ on Tumblr

“I've spent weeks away from you. What I'm not about to do is watch you kiss some other man when you're right in front of me.”

♡♡♡

“You’re not kissing anyone.”

I raised my eyebrow with a corner of my mouth quirked up, almost amused by his statement, but Wilbur remained silent on the line. I was in my hotel room after a long day of filming. Wilbur had finished his set a while ago, and now he was waiting in his hotel room before his next flight to a different country.

“Will, it’s part of the script. I kinda have to for, y’know, my job.” I noted, plopping myself down on my bed. All he did in response was hum back.

“Well, whatever you say, dear, I just know you’re not going to be kissing anyone tomorrow.” He said matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes, not sure if he was joking or was serious. Besides, it’s not like he can just change the script to his liking, right?

Tomorrow Will and the band were going to be flying over to the country that we were filming in for two reasons. One reason was to perform a set for a festival, but the other reason is that with some great negotiating with the director, I convinced the team that Lovejoy could have a feature in the movie. After working with the team for some time, not only did they have a featured song in the movie, but also a scene where they played as a band during the film! I remember telling the band that night, and they were absolutely ecstatic. It was as soon as I got off of work, I rang them in the taxicab back to my hotel.

“Oh, Willll~!” I chimed after Will picked up my call.

Wilbur, who was absolutely groggy after performing, only mumbled when he spoke. “Yes, dear..?”

“Guess what, guess what! Are you with the band? You guys would all love to hear this news.” I asked. With a tired sigh, Wilbur flicked on the camera before outstretching his arm to show him in the passenger seat with the rest of the boys in the back seats. I noticed that through the car windows, you could see it was relatively dark, which was the complete opposite in my case with the bright and sunny sky blaring in my face.

Joe looked half asleep, Ash was on his phone, and Mark looked a bit drunk but nonetheless energetic. “So what did you need to tell us?” Wilbur asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, okay! So remember how I said that I was going to convince the director to feature a song in the movie?” I reminded them. Wilbur slowly nodded in response, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mhm?” He hummed.

“Well, not only will you guys have a featured song, but also you guys will be playing in the background in one of the shots! Isn’t that so fucking cool?! I’m so proud of you guys!”

Immediately, I saw all the guys sit up with wide grins and look at each other with such enthusiasm. Mark screamed and cheered as Wilbur held the phone close to his face, gasping in awe. “You’re serious?!” Wilbur said. “Like you’re so, so serious??” His mouth then curled into a wide smile before jumping in his seat like a little child.

I smiled, reminiscing at the memory that only happened a few days ago. “Hey, darling?” Present Wilbur called out to me, making me shake out of my thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’m gonna head out now. Get some rest okay? I’ll be seeing you a couple of hours from now.” He noted.

“Oh, yes! I should get some rest now, should I?” I nervously chuckled, scratching the back of the neck. “I’ll see you soon, my love! Text me when you land. I love you!” With some cheesy little kisses through the phone, I hung up and threw my phone onto the nightstand. I stretched my arms above my head, snuggling into the off-white fitted sheets and pulling up the thick covers to embrace my body. My eyes fluttered close, and soon enough, I drifted off to dreamland.

The next day, I woke up practically jumping into bed and throwing on my usual outfit of sweatpants and tank tops. I walked into my bathroom, thoroughly washed my face with my exfoliating cleansers then brushed my teeth to make sure they were as bright as ever. I tied my hair back into something comfortable before slipping on some tennis shoes and leaving my room with my backpack equipped. Once I walked out, I called a taxi for a fifteen-minute drive to our production set.

In the meantime, I opened up my phone to read some missed messages from Wilbur.

Wilby <3: Hey we landed

Wilby <3: so eepy

Wilby <3: see you in six hours ml :)

With a goofy grin on my face, I responded.

You: headed to the studio now. cant wait to see you wilbs :D

I closed my phone and slid the device into my pocket, exchanging it for a pair of headphones as I admired the streets of the city.

Once I arrived, the office was bustling per usual with cameras getting readily in position and screenwriters and editors discussing the process of the movie shots. I made my way toward the breakfast table. On display, there were fruits, bagels, and yogurt cups. I decided to take a yogurt cup and plastic spoon before wandering around the set, examining the different scenes that were being worked on.

Once I finished a lap around the warehouse, I heard the front door open, and it was none other than Wilbur carrying his guitar case on his back wearing baggy clothing and glasses resting on the bridge of his none. Immediately dropping my bag and throwing my cup into a nearby trashcan, I ran up to him, jumping into his warm embrace after what felt like years.

“Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur!” I exclaimed, burying myself in his chest. His arms slithered around my waist as he held me tightly, picking me up ever so slightly.

“(y/n)! I’ve missed you so much!” He twirled me around before placing me back down. “How are you, my love?! Has the States been treating you well?” He ran fingers through my hair as I held on to his wrist, not letting my eyes leave that gorgeous smile on his face.

“Surprisingly well! How about you, sweetheart? Have you been okay?” I asked.

“Well I’m certainly more than okay now that I’m with you—”

We heard a voice clear his throat only for us to whip our heads around. Joe, Ash, and Mark stood there awkwardly having to endure the immense PDA they had just witnessed. Instantly, we both pulled away with a tint of red brushing our faces.

“S-sorry—!” I stuttered. “How are you guys?”

“Hey, (y/n)! We’ve been doing just fine.” Mark held up his drumsticks, resembling a wave. “Were you guys getting ready to film?” He asked.

“Err, well-” I stepped back a bit from Wilbur to direct my attention to the guys. “In about fifteen minutes maybe? The director is somewhere with the film crew, so you guys can talk to him in the meantime. I gotta meet up with the cast in a bit to go over some lines and stage acts.” I checked my watch, realizing I had somewhere to be in just a few minutes. “Just for now walk around and get acquainted with the set. I’ll be seeing you guys later, I promise!”

Giving Will a quick peck goodbye, I jogged over to where the rest of the cast was, and from then on, we discussed our lines and what scenes we would be filming for that day. Some of the scriptwriters joined us as well, telling us how they envisioned each of the scenes.

“So this part is where we show the Masked Woman’s origin when she fell in love and then lost her lover.” One of the writers said, pointing at our papers. “We’re going to have a scene where they kiss while the band is playing in the background just to really feel that teenage kind of innocent love. Make sense?” I looked around, seeing all the actors nod, but my mind was racing.

We were going to kiss in front of the band?

God, I know Wilbur wouldn’t be too happy about that.

“Hey, you’re doing alright?” I felt a hand on my shoulder, only to look up at the hired love interest that I was set to kiss with.

“Oh— Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my boyfriend is the lead singer of the band that’s going to play— Not sure if he’ll be too fond of watching us kiss.” I lightly chuckled to myself, but in reality, I was a little nervous. He raised an eyebrow before turning to a writer.

“Is there a way where we can hide the kiss? So we don’t actually have to y’know— actually kiss?” He asked.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” The writer sighed, tilting her head to the side. “The director is really strict on this. He wants a perfect, loving kiss scene.”

With a defeated sigh, I shook my head. “It’s fine, really. Just wanted to see if there were any cheatways into this.” I said, scratching my neck. “I’m gonna go do my hair and makeup. I’ll see you guys in a bit!” Begrudgingly, I trudged to my dressing room to get my outfit and makeup done. I know on one hand, this is my job, of course, I was going to have to kiss someone. It’s not like I haven’t kissed anyone on a set before! I mean, that was before I met Will at least… Still, I wonder. What was Will’s plan? It’s not like he can improv his way into being the one to kiss me. Unless?

After roughly an hour or two, it was finally time to film the scene. Lovejoy has been recording shots for the montage segment of their band playing as the actors and I have been rehearsing the following lines. But for the most part, it was small talk while watching the band perform. Which was completely fine in my eyes since it’s been so long since I’ve seen Wilbur and the band play live. All of the main actors carpooled into one van and were eventually transported to an outside area. There stood the director, Lovejoy, and the camera crew.

The setting took place at an outside area near a bay. The boys were set to perform at a stage-like gazebo with makeshift speakers and wires trailing along the floor. A little fan was even placed as a prop to refresh the band. I hopped out of the car, approaching the set steadily, unsure if they were still filming or not. Eventually, the director turned to us, greeting us with his signature jolly laugh.

“There yall are! Now, we just finished the takes for the band. Now as they’re playing, we need you two—” He pointed at me and my assigned love interest. “—to stand relatively in front of the stage watching them perform. Then after some deep small talk talking about how much you enjoy the scene, you two kiss! Got it?” Reluctantly, I nodded. I glanced over to Will as he clutched his water bottle, taking a swig but still keeping an eye on our group.

Oh boy.

We continued on with taking scenes. My love interest and I were in the middle of the crowd around us, but given the small venue space, there were only several other people. Roughly, I’d say under fifty people. I stood next to him as we chatted about our made-up lives, talking about experiences we had when we were children, all while a camera glided along the outskirts of the crowd listening to the band.

“Ah, hold on. Are you feeling thirsty?” He asked in character. I chuckled before responding.

“Yeah, actually, it is hot out here. There are some drinks being handed out over there,” I pointed my thumb to the concession stand behind us. “Grab us some drinks. I’ll just listen to the band for now.” I smiled. He nodded, rubbing my bare shoulder before walking past me. Holding back my sigh, I turned to Wilbur. Now was the easy part of the scene where I got to just listen to the performance.

“I’m scum. I’m waste. I’m what.. You want.” Wilbur strained into the mic. I bit my lip, holding back the lyrics I wish I could harmonize with the man. I couldn’t do as little as mouth the lyrics, knowing that the camera was panning to capture my expression. I simply smiled up to Will, and soon enough, I met his gaze looking down at me.

In turn came Ash’s bass and Mark’s drums, revving up to Joe’s solo. Wilbur was the only one not playing right now, but that didn’t stop his theatrics. He swung his arms back and forth, pacing a little in place, until eventually, he descended off the pavilion with a bounce to each step. I looked around a bit, confused and not knowing if this was part of the script. The crowd stepped away, basically giving Will his right of way right in front of me.

“W-Will, what are you doing?” I whispered. In return, he didn’t answer. With one hand on his guitar, and the other cupping my face, Wilbur pressed his lips against mine as Joe’s solo played in the background. A huge blush crept onto my face to the tip of my ears, and all I could do in response was melt like ice cream. I fluttered my eyes closed with my hands running through his damp hair. I was desperate for his taste, something I never realized how much I was longing for until now. What stress I had building up in my system, whether it would be the intensity of filming or missing my family and friends, dissipated just from such a tender and innocent kiss.

Wilbur eventually had to pull away. I opened my eyes, revealing his smug smile, and a wink shot in my direction. “Meet me after the concert, baby, just thought you looked nice.” And with that, he turned around to finish performing the rest of the song.

What.

The fuck.

Just happened?!

Once the band finished the song, the director got out of his chair. “And cut!” He exclaimed. I looked over to see him rushing between the crowd, a joyous look on his face. “That was amazing! From that one take alone I could feel the passion! The love! That’s what we were aiming for!” He turned away from us and waved his hand to his production crew. “Tell the writers we’re going to go a little off-script because that was amazing! (y/n) and—” He turned around to face Wilbur. “Will, was it?” All Will could do was nod with a sheepish smile on his face. “Will, my man! You certainly know how to capture an audience! Alright everyone, regroup for fifteen!” The director turned away from us as the hired audience filed for a break.

I looked over to Wilbur, who looked as shy as ever. I crossed my arms and furrowed my eyebrows, but I couldn’t hide that smile plastered on my face. “So.” I started.

“So what?” Wilbur repeated, playing dumb.

“So this what your masterful plan you were talking about last night?” I inquired. Bashfully he swayed side to side, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe.” He mumbled. I rolled my eyes, a bit amused by his change of demeanor.

“Clingy bastard.” I turned around and headed toward one of the trailers, leaving him speechless.

“What—! Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” I heard him calling from behind. “(y/n)!”

♡♡♡

a / n ~ deeply apologize for just a really shitty thing of writing. I've spent roughly days working on this? Just putting it on and off. I am very eepy. If anyone messaged me or in my inbox I promise ill respond in the morning. reblogs and likes very appreciated! tysm ssososo much for the support <3!!

[holylulusworld]

Rise from the ashes masterlist

Summary: You’re abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, werewolf au, fluff, a/b/o, scenting, more to be added

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Rise from the ashes (2) - Out of the woods

Rise from the ashes (3) - TBA

more to be added

[ominous-faechild]

i don't know how to word this, so i'm just gonna say

sammy. breaking the rules. <- that stuff. please elaborate if there is any coherence in this request

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY SENT AN ASK!!! (people actually do that for non-ask posts???)

Okay, to be completely honest, I think we had a misunderstanding! (I was exhausted when typing that up and was just about to sleep--) I meant that you could/should ask about Sammy, but I wouldn't answer about his magic... but I've done some thinking.

I'll tell you a bit about his magic. 👀

Fair warning: long post!!!

The Way Magic Works™

So, magic. I'll definitely give a much more in-depth explanation one day--I know @honeybewrites REALLY wants one 😂--but I need to give a bit of an explanation here for you to be able to understand why Sammy is Special™.

In my writing, there's technically four different kinds of magic. I describe them as such:

Existential (all-encompassing and literal)

Axiomatic (abstract and "type-casted")

Faerie (abstract and encompassing)

Runic (wizards hurrr durrr)

Each "kind" of magic is named, appropriately, by its source--Existential magic comes from the Existential gods, Axiomatic magic comes from axiom, Faerie magic (or "pure" magic) comes from the Faewildes and is typically associated with faeries, and runic magic originated from the runes non-magical people used in an attempt to match the power of the others.

(I mean, technically runic magic itself is a combination of axiomatic and faerie magic, but--)

Essence Is Equivalent

The one thing all kinds of magic have in common is their shared resource--essence. No matter what kind of magic you use, you're always using up essence in order to do it. The same magical tasks always cost the same amount of essence, meaning the only way to "advance" in magic-casting is to grow your mana pool.

Except for runic magic, but we'll get into that later--

(I hop between using "essence" and "mana" for this explanation, but in-universe it's always called "essence". As a fan of DnD and fantasy games, sometimes using the word "mana" makes more sense to me, haha. Idk if that understanding applies to everyone, but. Essence is essentially just "magical energy".)

Long story short--let's say we have four different people, each with their magic coming from one of each of the different sources. Except, they all have Water magic.

Existential user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x amount of essence

Axiomatic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

Faerie/Pure user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes .5x essence

Wait, what? Okay, let's try that again--

A different Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes 1.7x essence

A third Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

What??? What's the deal with that???

Well, this isn't the time to explain Runic magic in-depth, but long story short? Let's just say it's because they're not doing magic "normally". The other kinds of magic users will always use the same amount of essence, so we'll just stop including the variety for now. Just know it'll be the same amount by default. Except... you won't often run into "default" with runic users. Regardless!

Existential user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

Axiomatic user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

Faerie/Pure user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

The first Runic user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 500x essence

As you can see, it's all equivalent. Both across "types" of magic and in effort-to-gain ratio. So none of them have any sort of advantage!... except literally all of them do.

Similarly, since they're all drawing from essence as their source, there's no "backup" magic system one can use if they run out. If they're out of essence, they're out--nothing they can do.

Actually, wait. I lied. (aka Essence Banks)

There's a way to store essence for later use--essence banks! Basically, they're just magical items infused with essence. They can be literally everything. Except, they aren't everything.

Confused?

Essence Banks were a runic invention and have to be engraved with appropriate runes to be able to contain essence. Some have actually been commodified and turned into "temporary conduits" (aka, items that allow a non-magic user to wield magic like a mage) through people infusing them with their essence.

This is a case where "pure" magic technically separates from a faerie's magic. Pure magic can be used for literally anything, but faeries... well, it's complicated. Regardless, pure magic originates from the Faewildes, but is different from a faerie's magic.

Pure essence can be used for anything, but an individual's essence can only be used for their respective magic type. (Like, elemental / conceptual, not Existential / Axiomatic and such. That explanation's for another day, though.) Pure magic can only be gotten from the Faewildes through the use of runic magic.

People have turned essence banks into commodities by giving them to others who don't have their magic and allowing them to use it. However, as you can probably imagine, essence banks and conduits of both kinds (permanent and temporary) are expennnnnsive!!! Most who have them use them for themselves, to store their own essence to use later.

Just know--there is no way to just "create" essence! It all comes from SOMEWHERE! The most common places are from one's self or from the Faewildes.

Essence Banks Do Not Cross "Types" Of Magic

If someone with fire magic got their hands on an essence bank with essence from someone with water magic in it, they wouldn't be able to utilize it for fire magic--only water magic.

Except... not really.

The fire user could use the essence, it would just cost a lot more of the water essence to instead use fire magic.

Why does this sound familiar...?

Hm. Anyway!

I bet you've been wondering--how does any of this relate to Sammy?

Sammy Breaks The Rules of Magic™

So, now that you have an understanding of how magic works in my stories, you can better appreciate Sammy.

Remember what I just said?

Y'know, about how magic all always costs the same amount of essence, how "types" of essence don't translate well to others, and how essence can't just be created?

Well, Sammy heard that, laughed, and said "I'm built different."

"Amplification" doesn't exist in the world of my stories. There's simply no concept of it because of how inherent the idea of "essence is always equivalent" is to magic.

Except... Sammy is an amplifier.

So what does that mean in the universe of my stories?

He's able to make others' magic use less essence. He's able to enhance their abilities, let them do things they couldn't otherwise do. And it doesn't matter what kind of magic either of them have.

Oh! And since he's the amplifier?

His other magic is also always amplified.

Yeah, long story short? He's OP af. Both as an individual, and as a support character.

CONCLUSION!

I actually can't say any more about amplifying because, omfg, it's actually such a spoiler! As I said to you (almost) yesterday, I plan out the series I write to build up to things I'm going to eventually write! Amplifiers are suuuuper important for a number of reasons and, as I said, they basically don't exist! There's only two others wandering about at the time of Rising From the Ashes (the story Sammy's in)! And one of them is a complete hermit who 99.99% of people have no idea exists!

The other... well. He's actually an avatar. An agent of one of the gods. Who knows if/when he'll ever show up? 👀

If you're curious, the (albeit vague) Overarching Goals™ of the series are as follows:

The Arcane Rifts: explores the Faewildes and some of how they've impacted the world. Specifically explores in-universe political relations of Jhandar and Glavnran; the Existential War; the Existence of Magic; and how the Existential gods mess with the world. Oh... and is Gene's origin story. 😉😘

Sun and Shadow: strongly explores the Faewildes' impact on "the Real World" through their patchworking Lynsmouth into the city it is today. Hints towards plots in RFtA and tCC. Explores faeries themselves through the Major Faerie Characters and the highlights the role of magic in society. Is intended to be an introduction into my weird worldbuilding tbh, haha. Hints at Existential War and is also where a HUGE worldwide-plot event occurs. Thanks, Quinn! 😈

Rising From the Ashes: explores in-universe political relations, more directly builds on the worldbuilding through the character of Kieran Caron and his school, does some more planting in info about the Existential War, and showcases people in-universe trying to experiment with magic and expand on its capabilities.

The Calamity Crew (name to change): lots of worldbuilding through the literal crew of a merchant ship sailing across the world; builds up in-universe local Axiomatic gods; showcases the literal birth of a lesser god and explores the powers and abilities of gods; showcases people in-universe trying to experiment with magic and expand on its capabilities.

I plan to somehow make stories on the Existential gods' avatars, but don't know how I'll go about that, haha. Also intend to probably make some stories REALLY early in the in-universe timeline completely taking place within the Faewildes. Might merge those ideas together, idk.

If you can't tell, the Existential gods are super important to the overarching story I plan on writing, haha. Part of how I'm planning to build them out is through the very fact that they appear everywhere.

Yknow--because they are!

They're the puppeteers manipulating the entire world in their little game. Their Existential War.

To anyone who read through this all--congrats and omfg, thank you so much???

I know this is a lot and not all of it is exactly easy to understand, haha. I wanted to create a magic system that felt magical, but also was planted in "real" stuff like conservation of matter, haha. I want there to be, like, a limit to it, but also for things to have those good 'ole fashioned "fairy tale"/"gods rule over us all" vibes. Hopefully I've done a good job!

Tysm again and feel free to reblog and share!

Tagging list: @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star @aalinaaaaaa

@paeliae-occasionally ; to anyone else, ask and ye shall be added!

Divider from @cafekitsune

[worldsendramen]

in place of actual content here is this from june

+ context (i am boybicycle ballwater)

[somethingformyself]

THE X-MEN ARE MORE THAN 1 CHARACTER!!!

FUCK YOU & YOUR FAVES!

THE X-MEN ARE MORE THAN 1 CHARACTER!

Don't watch the show or read the comics if you can't handle seeing other characters shine. There were only 10 episodes, but somehow, YOUR FAVE needed to be in every scene?

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 54

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Cersei POV, dark af, torture, pain, abuse described, Cersei's cruelty is escalating, violence, blood, this chapter was inspired by 'Nothing' from Emilie Autumn, is it fucked up to admit I enjoyed writing the torture scene??

Words: 2239

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21 

Part 22 Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26 Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44

Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 55

"Watch your step, princess." Phiobe snickers, watching Cersei attempt to bypass a puddle that reeks of urine in the middle of the alley.

The blonde cursed when the hem of her dress dipped slightly. Phiobe quite enjoyed watching the formerly pampered lady of Casterly Rock struggle, perhaps for the first time in her privileged life. Far too obvious that this girl had never so much as had a broken nail from a hard day's work. Phiobe was able to recall every hardship she had been through since she was a child. It forged her into someone harsh and cruel.

Cersei kept telling herself that the streets of Astapor couldn't be as bad as Flea Bottom in King's Landing.

It was far worse. Each street seemed to be dirtier than the next. More rundown and polluted with all sorts of smells that assaulted every one of her senses.

She tried not to make eye contact with the poor who littered the streets, living in their own filth.

Her quartermaster and her first mate were nowhere to be found. Much like visiting her link in the city, it was just the two of them. She was still tethered to Phiobe, the captain being smart enough to ensure Cersei wouldn't get away.

Finally, she stops in front of a dimly lit, rusted metal door. Her fist is raised, prepared to bang on the door before she turns to Cersei. "You sure you want to go through with this?"

Cersei doesn't tear her gaze away from Phiobe's. "I'm certain."

Phiobe doesn't waste another second. Four bangs rattled the air, followed by a momentary silence. The door scrapes open, revealing a crude-looking man whose left eye possesses a milky film over it. The Red Dahlia speaks to him in their local dialect, and the man smiles. His one good eye swerved over to Cersei.

He says something to the captain, but Phiobe shakes her head. The man frowns a little but nods and lets them through.

Sticking close to Phiobe's authoritative figure, they walk into the main hall of whatever this dark and dreary establishment was. Muttered chatter slithers through the thick smoke produced by slender pipes held between trembling fingers.

Large pillows were strewn all over the ground, between cracked pillars that barely held the roof up. They bypass the hazy-eyed bodies and continue to the next guarded door. Phiobe pulls out a small pouch and opens it to reveal thick, gold coins. She picks out five rounds and places them in the guard's dirty palm.

When the door is opened, though, Cersei takes an immediate step back. It led to steep, stone stairs that went down into a dark abyss. Down below, Cersei could hear the cries and screams of people in agony. She’s briefly reminded of the cellars in Casterly Rock that held their lions.

Remembers the stupidity of a little mouse that stood terrified in the middle of the lion’s den. Big eyes bulging even more with fear as she looked up at Cersei.

She had sent (y/n) down a very similar staircase. Cersei asks no questions, though there were many on the tip of her tongue.

Placing her hand on a rickety rail, Cersei descends the steps, listening to Phiobe follow behind. Muffled voices could be heard from behind the doors that lined the cellar. The clinking of chains and thumping of fists hitting flesh greet Cersei.

"This will be your first lesson in power." Phiobe states while confidently kicking open the first door to her left. A young girl cowers in the corner, bruises all over her face and arms, attempting to cover herself with those same stick appendages. Her dark hair is matted and hangs off her face limply. There's not much in the room save a small table and chair.

Phiobe snaps at the girl, giving instructions that Cersei didn't understand. The waif refuses to move from her position, making Phiobe roll her eyes and stalk over to the girl. Her fingers disappear in the mess of dreads and she yanks her up to her feet. A shriek rips through the girl when she is lifted.

Unceremoniously, Phiobe throws her onto the chair. She stands in front of Cersei. "You look like a lady who has slapped a few playmates in her day."

Melara Hetherspoon pops into her head. She'd smacked her around when the young lady refused to bend to Cersei's will.

Leaning her face closer, Phiobe smiles. "Let me have a taste of it."

"You. . . want me to hit you?"

"I need to know what I'm working with. So yes. As hard as you can. I promise I can take it."

Cersei takes a good, hard look at Phiobe's face. High cheekbones and the longest lashes she'd ever seen on a woman. Her nose is straight and regal. Full lips that had that endearing bow shape on the top. She was beautiful, not a scar in sight, despite the horrors the captain had briefly mentioned from her childhood.

Reeling her hand back, she slams it against Phiobe's cheek.

The girl whimpers, gathering herself in her seat the best she could.

Her slap doesn't even make Phiobe's head budge. There was a bright red mark but Phiobe appeared unamused. "Is that really all you've got, my lady?"

She straightens her back and returns her attention to the nameless girl shaking on the splintered chair. "You'll need more strength behind that slap of yours if you truly want to get anywhere in life."

Rubbing her knuckles, Phiobe curls her fingers into her palm and, without warning, strikes at the poor girl, making her entire chair tip over and spill her.

Both Cersei and the slave are stunned, unable to say a word.

"In this world, women have to be crueler than men to have real power." She instructs. "And you have to be ready to show that cruelty at a moment's notice."

Suddenly, the girl on the ground bursts into tears, wailing horribly.

It was an ugly noise.

(y/n) had screamed just the same when Cersei trapped her.

The toe of Phiobe's boot digs into the tender side of the sobbing mess on the ground as the slave girl curls into a fetal position. "This won't do. Help me with this thing."

Cersei didn't want to go anywhere near the dirty creature but the dead expression in Phiobe's red eyes told her that refusing was not an option.

Phiobe unlocks Cersei's own chains to put them on the girl to make sure she couldn't use her arms to protect herself, and the two of them put her back on the chair.

Examining her raw wrists for a brief second, Cersei glances at Phiobe for guidance.

"Go on. Hit her. Not that open palm, pathetic slap you dealt me. I want you to use all your hate to really hit her."

The girl starts to beg in her native tongue. Cersei grimaces, wanting the wretched thing to shut up already.

She feels Phiobe move behind her to slowly take her right hand to form it into a fist, making sure her thumb stays out. Then she goes to gently reposition Cersei's hips into more of an angled posture. It sends flames of desire through Cersei's core from the touch.

A faint scent of bergamot tickled her nose, with how close Phiobe was to her.

"Now, punch."

Her first punch hurt Cersei more than it did the slave girl.

"Again."

Cersei huffs and clenches her fist back up again.

Above the screams, Cersei vaguely heard Phiobe order, "Again."

Pain was already radiating up her arm. “I can’t.”

A vicious yank to her hair snaps Cersei’s face to look at Phiobe. “You’ll do it or I’ll give you a worse beating.”

And so she proceeded to pummel the girl handcuffed to that damn, chair that threatened to buckle under such action.

Until it hurt her knuckles.

Until she was able to draw blood.

The chair breaks, and even then, Phiobe tells her, "Again."

Sweat blinds her from the red that is staining her hands and clothes. Her ears rang so she could no longer hear the cries of anguish. Only Phiobe's instructions broke through.

Again.

Again.

Phiobe abruptly pulls Cersei off the barely breathing girl. Her nose was smashed, making her dirty face unrecognizable. A disgusting gurgling noise could be heard as she tried to breathe.

"Messy, but well done. We'll work on that." Phiobe sounds satisfied.

Exhausted, Cersei sits on the ground, panting from the exertion. Her gold hair sticks to the sides of her face as she takes in what she had done. Trembling hands lift for her to turn them this way and that so Cersei could see the toll it took on her. Her knuckles ballooned to size of grapes and she was sure a finger or two was crooked. She certainly couldn’t move her right hand without experiencing a sharp pain.

“How do you feel?”

Panting, Cersei glared at the captain. She was tired from the physical feat of beating someone to near death. Even a little sick when eying her victim's crumpled body just a few feet away from her.

But deep down, she felt the warmth of satisfaction. Satisfaction that she could cause bodily harm without using an assassin.

The small bones and tendons in her hands burned, but Cersei gazed at them with immense satisfaction.

Phiobe laughs. “Get up. You have more work to do.”

Cersei advanced from fists to knives.

They'd moved to a different room with new bodies to mutilate. Cersei watched intently as Phiobe demonstrated the best ways to maim and harm. Scarlet blood splattering across Phiobe's face and almost matching the red of her eyes.

Her fingers, still caked with the blood of the first girl, stiffly wrap around the handle of the knife that Phiobe hands over to her. It was different than merely pummeling someone.

The sharp blade sinking into tender flesh and bone. An entirely different sensation that causes Cersei's cheeks to flame and her heart to accelerate. Hitting had been exhausting and draining. Using a knife made Cersei's blood sing.

This is the power she craved.

Phiobe showed her how to be an artist with it. Not just aimlessly slashing and stabbing. Torture to Phiobe was an art form. She severed toes, fingers, noses, ears- anything that could be hacked off was.

Cersei didn't have the finesse that Phiobe had in her mutilations. It took her several tries to cut off one finger, and by the end of it, she was annoyed with all the screaming and how messy it was. Her cream colored gown was ruined, dyed with varying shades of pink and red.

The smell was no better. Iron filled her nostrils, clouding her head.

She lost track of time in those rooms. Without any windows, Cersei didn't know if it was light or dark outside.

She didn't even remember how many bodies Phiobe had her practice on. Too many for one day. But for once, Cersei had been obedient and did as she was commanded. She made her victims bleed and scream and beg for death to come. Phiobe told her she wasn't ready for killing yet.

Her damn chains were back around her wrists, chaffing and rubbing away flecks of dried blood once Phiobe deemed Cersei done for the evening.

"What?" Phiobe chuckles when she sees the expression on Cersei's tired face. "Did you think just because I'm teaching you lessons in power that I would give you leeway? No. You're still my prisoner. Never forget that. And you two, what took you so long?"

Cersei hadn't even registered that Dardan and Ferid were now in the room with them. "Forgive us, Captain. We had a few issues in delivering Master Vogeo's merchandise."

There's a suffocating heaviness in the air when all go quiet. Cersei shifts her eyes from the three pirates as they seem to be having a telepathic discussion. Phiobe need not say anything as Dardan and Ferid move to either side of Cersei and clamp their hands down on her arms.

She hisses. "Let go of me. I can walk myself."

"I'm going to take a guess that you yourself have never felt much physical pain in your life." hums Phiobe, her hands behind her back. "That you've never been struck hard enough to lose your senses. Or never have felt the pierce of a blade against you. It's important that you understand the pain you inflict on others."

Cersei feels her insides twist. She didn't like where this was going.

The Red Dahlia slowly walks around Cersei, whose heartbeat is rapidly increasing when she catches the glint of Phiobe's blade.

"There's a price that must be paid, Cersei."

Despite her desperate attempts to wiggle her way out of the men's grip, Cersei is unable to get free.

"A price paid in blood. One you have not paid yet. One that I've paid plenty of times over. The first time I was stabbed, I was only a child of five. What were you doing when you were five, Cersei? Playing with your pretty dolls, I'm guessing. Terrorizing that sister of your's." Her fingers catch Cersei's chin. "Your privilege shows in how you torture others. I will remedy that."

She tried to suffocate her screams when Phiobe's blade bit into her shoulder, but when Phiobe twists the knife, she was unable to hold it back.

Taglist:

@boywivlove

@esposadomd

@domoron

@yentroucnagol

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bregarc

@findingjaxx

[frickingnerd]

yandere lana skye

pairing: lana skye x gn!reader

tags: pre-sl9!lana (+some post-sl9!lana at the end), mentions of ema, overprotective girlfriend!lana, locking reader away (tiny bit)

even during her time as a detective, lana has already experienced loss that scarred her immensely

after her parents died, she vowed to never let anyone she loves die or get hurt ever again!

especially not you, her beloved darling, who lana is so determined to protect from any harm that comes your way!

lana doesn't like it when you visit her at work, as she believes her workplace to be one of the most dangerous places you could be!

she's always happy to see you, she just can't help it, but she'll scold you nonetheless if you pay her a surprise visit!

lana isn't the most jealous yandere and if she knows the people you spend time with well, she usually doesn't mind them being around you!

she's only bothered by strangers being a bit too friendly to you, fearing they might have ulterior motives…

lana also tries to make you get along with ema! her sister means a lot to her and she knows that ema is the most trustworthy person she knows, so if lana can't keep an eye on you, she knows ema can!

lana knows ema isn't a threat to your relationship and is actually your biggest supporter!

while lana is already overprotective, after the events of sl9, she'll become even more protective of you!

during the first few days, she doesn't even want you leaving the house without her by your side! and should you refuse, she doesn't hesitate to abuse her power and lock you away for a while!

only to keep you safe, of course…

[ashsostrange]

exactly mfs have a futa fetish thats not trans representation

right!! 😭

nothing is wrong w hc ellie as trans, do what you wna do, but doing so just so you can write explicit content centered around her genitals is very weird, problematic if you will... if there was a balance between fluff ‘n smut, then that’d be different, but y’all haven’t seen any trans ellie fluff, have you? 🤥

[ominous-faechild]

Me, making Oska 3 years ago: "NOOOO!!! I can't make him hot, do you know how often people will use that as an excuse if he is??? 'If evil, why hot?'???"

Me, working on the villain for RFtA: *sips tea and ominously leans back in my chair as I purposely dial the "hotness" meter past its max setting*