#i already love these two So Much... whatever form they manifest in and whatever shape they take... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xythlia · 11 months ago

Text

— ❛ metamorphosis ❜

inspired by the greek myth of pygmalion and galatea, the sculptor who loved his creation so much he begged aphrodite to turn her flesh and blood so she would be his wife

› satoru x f!reader

› word count : 2k+

warnings : angst, m masturbation, mention of death but nothing explicit, readers a curse & a marble statue, something something be careful what you wish for (possibly gonna do a pt two because obviously reader came back wrong™)

Everyone who needs to know, knows how a curse is formed. Knows exactly where they come from and for the most part why. But Satoru could never wrap his head around why you chose to haunt him, and like this.

After your initial death it manifested as peculiar visions caught in his peripheral, a flash of white that dissipated the second any of his six eyes tried focusing on it. But the feeling of it, god it felt just like you. And it was so like you to play some elaborate little joke, even after death. As if your entire death had been one elaborate joke and not the second greatest heartache of his life.

He'd been careful, so painfully careful about controlling himself and not letting the despair of losing you suffocate him lest this be the outcome. He didn't want to see you that way. Instead throwing himself into teaching, into the present, lest he become shackled by the past even more than he already was. He tried so very, very hard to let you go.

But apparently it wasn't really up to him, because as the years passed you gained more and more substance, more form, and seemingly felt more emboldened to no longer hide in the corners of his eyes but forcing yourself front and center.

And what a odd form you took.

A statue. Innocuous at first glance but he was never one to take anything at face value. It was like you were carved by a sculptor par excellence, birthed not from chisel but as if from the universe itself. Every detail, down to the most miniscule, lovingly rendered in breathtaking relief. So much tenderness held captive in your hardened, unseeing eyes. A hand held aloft in an almost loving, beckoning position.

As the days passed he spent more and more time focused on you, on your appearance and looking at it not as a curse but perhaps the strangest of blessings. You hadn't come back as some thing all teeth or claws, in fact you never moved a muscle. Just like all the earthly sculptures bedecked in various museums around the world you stood much the same.

With each day came a new bauble he would fix to your marble form, a flower held here or there to your hair with scotch tape, his favorite scarf wrapped around your cool to the touch neck. This evolved into a sort of... ritual over time. It was something he took greater joy in than he would ever admit. Quiet nights spent murmuring to you, not minding that you never answered. You didn't need to. It wasn't as sophisticated as telepathy but just the same it was like he could feel your feelings in response to whatever he was saying while rearranging and redressing your stone body.

In rare moments when his fingers would brush against the stone he could almost swear it felt warm, as if just seconds away from giving beneath his fingertips like melting wax, and in the next second you'd be shrieking with laughter at being accidentally tickled by him.

Just like back then.

It did mystify him a bit, why you chose a marble statue and why you remain so silent and still. Maybe it would hurt too much otherwise, so he doesn't press you to speak or try to change your shape. It was just like when you were still here, he would've loved you no matter what so why would it be any different like this?

But still, he feels all the same longing he felt then. The need to touch you, hold you, see your back arching off his bed and feel your fingers gripping against his shoulder blades. The saccharine cries of his name from your lips, prayer like and spurring him on move deeper, harder.

His hands tremble against your inert ones, tears blurring you in watercolor relief as the world loses its focus. His breathing became laborious as he rested his forehead against you, always so cold to the touch. It did little to ground him against the tidal wave of grief soaked desire that rushed around his mind.

Without conscious thought his hand slid down his torso, palming at his aching erection through his sweatpants. It was obscene, even thinking about doing something like this with a curse but for better or worse he was devoid of thought in this moment. His lips pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your alabaster skin as he rolled the waistband down, feeling his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen.

Satoru hissed feeling the warm weight of his cock in hand, the pressure felt good and a soft sigh fell from his lips as his eyes fluttered closed. Retreating into memory as his other hand gripped the frigid marble, so hard he was afraid for half a moment that it would bruise before remembering himself.

He licked the palm of his hand, wishing it was your tongue sliding against the veins of his cock before wrapping it around the shaft, stroking slowly at first and alternating to swipe his thumb over his flushed tip, practically dripping precum.

He's called back to a memory from early in your relationship, showering together for the first time mostly out of utility after being on a particularly lengthy mission. The way you'd slid your hands down his body, across his back and over his stomach had made his heart feel like someone strapped electric cables to it.

Its harder to hold back as he falls headlong into it, remembering how your hands looked wrapped around his cock, fingertips straining to meet around the full thickness of him. The thrill of it sends shivers down his spine, makes him pump himself faster.

You'd look otherworldly on your knees in front of him now, eyes teary and cheeks hollow as you struggle to take all of him down your throat but you were always so eager to please, especially when it came to him. Satoru can feel the coil tightening in his gut, and before he was truly ready it's already happening, thick milky spurts splashing against your skin and his balls throbbing so hard his thigh muscles even tensing up in response. It took monumental effort to keep himself steady, braced against your solid form as his cum decorated you with the most pornographic accessory yet.

As his breathing steadied he was overcome with the fact that he hates himself for this.

Hates you a little bit too.

How pathetic, to be reduced to masturbating against this lifeless vision of you. To play dress up with it. To speak and laugh with it as if it's his closest confidant.

Just as he felt himself on the brink of the emotional abyss of grief something caught his eye, making his breath hitch and it was as if all time stopped.

The color of the marble was different.

So subtle that he nearly missed it, but it was undeniable. Ever so slightly the pallor of your skin had shifted, as if the color was bleeding through slowly.

For the first time in a long while Satoru wept.

#jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo angst #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you

250 notes · View notes

monstersdownthepath · 1 year ago

Text

Other critters I need to mention more on this blog at some point:

--The King of Glass: Outer God that’s a living planet. The world has fallen in love with its sun and showers it with ‘gifts’ taken from all over the cosmos. It primarily gathers these gifts by trading with mortals and immortals, sending out elaborate, eldritch artwork made from the rainbow-shaded glass it can create from the sand that makes up most of its body in exchange for gifts for its beloved. While these works tend to be mundane (if unsettling), more than a few of them have some unusual, otherworldly, or even dangerous function.

--Oa-Imago, the Deepwoods Mirage: Chaotic Good Great Old One that lives in the border between dream and reality and can cause the two to overlay with its presence. Enjoys dancing among mortal dreams and visiting its favorite ‘friends’ in the waking world to transform them into whatever they desire, though its efforts to contain its destructive and disorienting presence are... lacking, in some areas. It has little concept of pain, fear, or death; these things mean little to a dream, after all, though it’s come to understand that it must undo what it does to its ‘friends’ more often than not.

--The Gravesong: A mysterious melody that haunts the First World like a specter; some remnant of a fallen Eldest, or a haunting song too beautiful to ever stop playing, or perhaps the shards of whatever Death could be found in the First World before it was moved closer to the Positive Energy Plane. Anyone who hears it becomes obsessed with the idea of recreating it, but normal musical instruments won’t do. No, the only equipment that could properly capture the Gravesong have to be crafted from more robust materials. Flesh, blood, bone, and things still stranger, so long as they relate to death and decay.

--The Indomitable Radiance: A creature referenced a few times in other articles already; the Radiance is an Outer God of beauty so pristine, flawless, and true that no creature that looks upon it can bear to look away. With the loss of its home dimension, the Radiance is concerned with preparing a cabal of trusted individuals from all over the Great Beyond to maintain and impose its alien ideals of order and beauty on whatever unwitting world it longs to conquer, with the long-term hope of establishing a society so perfect and cleanly that it can march upon the universe and eradicate Chaos (in all its forms) altogether... because the background radiation of entropy itself causes frays and faults across its body, and that won’t do.

--Aquila-Rediannadier, the Inverse Orchestra: Perhaps it’s a song, or an idea, or a form of life so bizarre it could never survive in our cosmos in any other form. It is perhaps a child of Azathoth, because it seems to dance to the orchestra that surrounds the Sultan, but more importantly is that its amorphous body reflects alien melodies into its surroundings, much to the detriment of whatever creatures may be nearby. Some find madness, some find destruction, but some find twisted inspiration in watching it sing and dance.

--The Loathsome, Shaggy Beast: An abomination, a glitch in reality made manifest when the Eldest Fey Imbrex dared to dream a little too far beyond reality. It’s purposely nameless as to avoid being defined, rejecting any attempt by the world to tell it what it should be as it shifts from grotesque form to abhorrent shape; the title that it bears was imposed upon it by the Eldest in an attempt to cage its concept in a body that could be killed, but as a living recurring nightmare it cannot be permanently slain, rising time and time again from dream and memory.

--The Mother of Filth and her children: A disgusting and corrupt Outer God from a past cycle, the Mother of Filth is bound by obsession in all its forms, but is primarily obsessed with reclaiming all the power it once had by consuming and replacing entire civilizations with its Filthbreed simulacra. There’s also its children, the siblings of the Bloodletter and Clorpt, each claimed by a different obsession: The Wretched, obsessed with microbial life; and the Fragrance Architect, obsessed with scents and decay.

--A bunch of demigods: Like Caerbannog, Nascent Demon Lord of Aggressive Mimicry and Camouflage; an unnamed Vesltrac Demagogue of isolation and meditation, who locks victims away in featureless demiplanes until their sanities have snapped; Saint Caligine, velstrac founder of “Gastromasochism,” who encourages his followers to consume horrifying (and especially spicy) foods to experience new forms of pain; and a handful of disgusting qlippoth lords.

#original concepts #this doesn't even cover the stuff that's not original to me that im converting nonetheless

87 notes · View notes

raenparade · 2 years ago

Text

08/12 - Undergrad vs Postgrad Experiences

I was diagnosed after I had already graduated from my bachelors, so while for most of my third year I was pretty sure I had ADHD, I wasn’t able to articulate this or have access to resources up until now. I’ve only been doing my masters for a few months, but how I’m feeling when I compare the two is like night and day. Granted, Covid probably has a significant role to play in this as it shaped almost all of the latter half of my first university experience.

For a bit of background context, I never really struggled in school, homework and things I had to do purely by myself were different. I enjoyed the structure school provided, and I loved to learn. I found pretty much every subject at least somewhat interesting, even if I couldn’t always understand. I had to go to school, and I was terrified of being told off, so I could keep my fidgeting to a minimum with it mostly manifesting as doodles in the margins of my exercise books. At every parents’ evening it was pretty much the same: delight to have in class, engaging if not the teensiest bit disruptive (not intentionally) but could be a bit more organised, especially with homework. I’ve heard the phrase ‘you need to apply yourself’ dozens of times, but I never knew what it meant, I don’t think I do now. Apply myself to what, an institution?

I got okay grades and got into Sixth Form. Structure was pretty much the same as in the same school I’d been in for half a decade at that point. I had free periods that I would mostly spend doing more work, since the environment was suitable for it. Parents took me to all my other activities, things were the same. Still a bit shit with homework, but could be worse.

Took quite a tumble when I got to university. Initially it was great - I went to every lecture, every seminar, eager to learn and absorb as much information as I could. I made friends on my course and outside of it. I didn’t do too much with societies, but found a lot of people around me who I still care about now. Looking back I realised it was mostly adrenaline responsible for keeping me afloat. I was excited, stimulated to be somewhere totally new, with new experiences and opportunities at my fingertips.

Second term of first year I started to feel myself shift, but not too much. I did everything! A lot of it at the last minute, sure, but it wasn’t too different to my educational escapades before, nothing to really reflect on.

Second year crashed, and the third year burned. I was excited to get to work on a group project, working with others being a core component of the animation industry. I knew having others to rely on and in turn being relied on to do work was a good motivator. I did feel a sense of inadequacy compared to my peers, but I wanted to create more than that so I fought through it. However, when the lockdown happened back in March 2020, momentum was ripped from me completely. I had to go home, I had to work. There was no way I was going to be able to work on a film.

I want to say I don’t hold any grudge towards anyone, aside from whatever outside forces led to the pandemic happening, I suppose. My lecturers did everything to make it easier for us, and I passed! I just couldn’t pick any of that momentum back up in third year. I felt stunted, unable to really do anything. I hated online lectures, as the lack of tangibility meant I’d rather just be sad and lay in bed all day. I couldn’t go into my building to work much, and even if I could, no one else was there. I just wasn’t having a good time.

Do I think that if I’d had my diagnosis earlier, been medicated earlier, third year would’ve been better? Maybe! I don’t know, that’s something I won’t ever get to know. I’m grateful for my experiences and it’s been able to show me what I can achieve now, in comparison.

Changing courses, doing illustration instead of animation has given me that sense of something new that I loved when I started my undergrad. While I know my building very well, I’m working in a new studio that I didn’t have access to before, with new lecturers and coursemates to bounce off of. Everything is in person, but still super accessible. Having access to specific disability advice and having gained confidence in myself has helped massively, too.

I feel like now I have more tools at my disposal to work with my disability, and not constantly be fighting against it. Sure, sometimes I do wish I wasn’t as scattered or forgetful as my peers. It sure would be nice to do a task I’ve been putting off for weeks that I know will only take five minutes - when I should’ve originally done it! But that’s not the card I was dealt, and I’ve learnt to live with it. Coming to realise that I won’t have all the answers right away is hard, given the lack of time perception, but I’m doing so much better than I ever thought I would.

Really looking forward to writing my proposal, though. I need something new.

#ma illustration #a question of research

0 notes

stripperblvd · 2 years ago

Note

SOMEONE NEEDS TO WRITE ABOUT JOE‘S HAPPY TRAIL!!!

plssss eddie x best friend reader

she notices when he’s stretching and his shirt lifts up. and she’s like staring, not even trying to hide it, almost drooling hahha (relatable tbh) and he sees her staring and idk one things leads to another and she’s kissing his happy trail and they‘re doing oral on each other and then fuck.

PLS if anyone else writes about it pls @ me!!

Happy Eyes (Eddie Munson x Reader Smut)

Warnings: Basically you two being perverts for each other lmfao, whole lotta nasty shit, lots of body fluids, and basically a lot of fondling before the big chacha.

Word Count: 3.7k

Note: I’m so glad everyone is equally enamored with his little happy trail. Truly adorable, but I must cater to my freaky readers.

Drinking with Eddie was always a fun fucking ride. Truly, was always a rollercoaster of laughter and one too many criminal activities. It would all start out with just a suggestion, a little ‘hey do you have anything to drink?” or just plain wanting to get drunk. Eddie and you loved playing the old creep clerks, making sure to bag at least one bottle of whatever liquor you’d been wanting prior. With a pretty smile and a short enough shirt, you’d walk up to the counter before Eddie, having him wait a moment or two so that you could work your magic. It was just too easy, all it took was a wink or the flash of some cleavage to get them hooked, completely ignoring Eddie as he stuffed a bottle into his crumpled black backpack, making sure to cover it with a book or a binder to not draw attention to the shape inside.

“That it sweetheart?” he asked, as he came up behind you placing a 6 pack of the cheapest beer on the counter and completely ignoring whatever glare would be thrown at him from the man creeping over your exposed body. “Yeah, I think that's it” you respond, flashing another overly flirty smile at the clerk before grabbing the beer, Eddie fishing some change from his pocket to cover the alcohol and swinging his arm around you, leading you out of the store with the smile of an absolute bastard.

Currently it was close to midnight, and the giggles could be heard from his room as he danced around, the last beer can in his hand as he imitated the cheerleaders from school, mockingly copying their little dances that you two would see from behind the bleachers on the occasion that your smoke sessions would overlap with their late evening practices. “Eds, no, just stop!” you laughed, clinging to your stomach as the muscles began to sore with how much he was making you giggle, giving your already drunk body barely any reprieve. “C’mon Y/N/N, don’t tell me I don’t look pretty dancing like that.” he whined, taking a large swing off his beer, finishing it off by leaning his neck back and finishing a few more gulps of the already flat drink in his hand.

Your bottom lip was tucked under your teeth as you watched his shirt ride up, but quickly spotted his hunched back as he groaned, beer spilling on the chest area of his clothing. “Fuuuuck.” he groaned, tossing the can to the garbage bin before his fingers lifted the hem of his shirt, not allowing the alcohol to soak to his skin. You could feel a little whine bubble up when he pulled his shirt off, his lanky upper body on full display for you as his rib cage poked out a little, his hair hidden momentarily by his shirt as he finally managed to rid himself of the soaked cloth.

It was hard not to keep staring, your eyes following the little trickle of light brown hairs that started just above his belly button, and became thicker below, forming a sexy little happy trail that ducked right under the start of his boxers, surely following straight to a patch of similarly colored hairs that gathered at the base of his dick.

You can’t say you never thought about Eddie as more than just your best friend. Years and years of being together constantly had begun to manifest themselves in deeper feelings. The kind that, like right now, forced you to stare longingly at you best friend’s torso, hungrily licking your lips as you felt your body heat up, a pool of warmth spreading between your skin and panties as you imagined what laid under the few layers he had on him now. Sure, it was the alcohol that was making you so damn horny, but you couldn’t act like there wasn’t already a solid foundation from which this feeling was rising from.

“What?” he asked, a slight blush on his cheeks was spreading although you weren’t sure if it was your next to creepy gaze or the fact that Eddie was most definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol in his system. “Hm?” you hummed, not really registering anything other than how good it would feel to run your hands across his smooth chest, suck sinful marks on his pretty collarbones. “You keep staring at me Y/N” he bashfully responded, staring to close in on himself, his pants starting to feel inexplicably tight, dick starting to strain against his boxers as he shifted his weight.

“S’not my fault you look so good right now.” If you had been sober, you’re sure that not a single one of those words would have made their way outside of your brain, but you weren’t in control anymore, the beer and shots that now roamed your body were, and they kept pushing to reveal exactly how you felt about Eddie in this instant. You could hear a whine coming from him as he neared the bed, ears so red you feared they might burst as he laid on his stomach, hiding the view of his torso and forcing you to finally meet his eyes, your hand coming up to play with his hair.

‘Don’t say shit like that.” he whispered, blown out brown eyes staring at you with an equal amount of desire, his hand sliding to rest on your lower leg and his breathing a little heavier than it had been. “Why not honey? Can’t compliment a pretty boy?” Your words only caused his dick to get harder, he felt like a child with all the whimpers and little moans that were starting to form in his chest as he bucked his hips at the bed, craving any sort of friction on his aching skin. “Cuz I get sensitive when I’m fucked up, and it’s not helping that the girl I’ve jerked off to a shit ton of times is staring at me like all she wants to do is jump my bones.” he didn’t care about filtering his words, if truths were coming out might as well make it count. It’s not like it wasn’t true, ever since 8th grade Eddie had started a bad habit of always thinking about you when he needed to get off, especially when you turned out to be a late bloomer, coming back from camp to end middle school with a slightly altered body, your chest showing a bit more as you grew into your body.

“Show me then.” you caressed his head, cupping his jaw and making him look at you, a thin curtain of sweat starting to form all over his body as he moaned, feeling your fingernails scratch lightly against his chin as if he was a goddamn cat. He couldn’t say no to you, it was too late to back out, with a few quick moments his jeans and underwear laid now completely discarded on the floor, his pretty cock on display for you as it bounced a little as he settled on his knees. Your eyes landed right back to his happy trail, drool pooling in your mouth as you finally got the full picture, and indeed, the hair met up with a patch of trimmed brown hair, not too long, but just long enough to show around his balls as he began to jerk himself off in front of you, slowly at first, dragging his fist to squeeze under the tip and then spread the little bit of precum that had already spurred from the little slit of his dick.

Your own clothes followed quickly after, not being able to watch him be so vulnerable with you without reciprocating, keeping your bra on but removing your panties and tossing them to the side. Eddie moaned, watching you reach down to touch your aching clit, your knees pressed together as your pupils followed his hand as he continued pumping his hard dick.

“No no no,” he whispered, letting go of his hard on and crawling a little towards you, his hands separating your knees and positioning you the way he wanted, making you giggle at how desperate he was. “It’s just…just in my dreams…you-you spread your legs like that.” he stammered, not being able to take his eyes off your glistening hole, his dick visibly twitching. To Eddie his dirtiest fucking dreams were coming true, because here you were, Wearing only your bra as you let him spread your legs, allowing him to stare directly at your pussy and touch himself to the beautiful sight. His wide eyes broke away from your soft mound to look at you. “Can I touch you?” he asked almost innocently, eyes pleading with you as if he would drop dead and die a horrible death if he couldn't put his hands on you, draw out sinful sounds as he worked your body like he had imagined so many times before.

“I’m all yours Munson.” your voice was laced with intoxicating lust and a mind fucking rasp, your hand gripping his wrist to lead his fingers to your pubic bone, allowing him to do the exploring himself as you sat up just a bit, your warm fingers lightly grazing his happy trail a few times before gripping his cock. He whimpered, bucking his hips on to you as he used his left arm to hold himself up, his other hand going to work with your pussy.

You couldn’t hold back the surprised moan that left your throat as you felt Eddie’s cold rings graze your wet folds, thumb slowly circling your clit and picking up a smooth rhythm that had your knees trembling with anticipation. Your hands stuttered, losing focus for a second as you gripped his hard dick in your hands, squeezing him a little harder than you had intended and making him groan, the feeling a little too intense for how sensitive he currently was. You tried to focus, you really did, but between feeling up his cock and watching him pant as he played with your wetness, a feeling of unmistakable savage hunger took over you, hands leaving his flesh and pushing him away. You pushed him onto the spot you had previously been at, his wide eyes not being able to adjust fast enough, and by the time he even registered what was happening your lips were already on his.

It was sloppy, messy and desperate, his hands gripping your sides and sliding roughly to fiddle with your bra, wanting to see you fully and not have his vision obstructed by your bra, which albeit sexy was inhibiting his eyes from feasting on the soft squishy flesh of your boobs. You laughed, breaking away to kiss down his jaw, neck, and sucking a pretty little mark on his collarbone, your fingers swatting his away as you leaned over him, unclasping the two loops on your bra and tossing it away, Eddie’s hands automatically flying to your chest, gripping the soft peaks and ghosting his thumbs over your already hard nipples.

“Can I suck them?” he asked, so childishly, his big dumb brown eyes looking up at you for pemission, the cuteness nearly making you coo as your hand tangled itself in his hair, nodding and watching with an opened mouth as he began to suckle at your nipples, moaning around them and bucking his hips upwards. You allowed him to continue his blissful actions, moaning every once in a while with the jolts of euphoria that his mouth caused, but eventually you pulled him off, now your turn to continue what you had started.

He was so desperate, so needy. He wouldn’t stop whining when you kissed down his abdomen, pausig just as second to lock eyes with him and move his dick slightly to press a teasing kiss right on his happy trail. The little hairs nibbled at your lip as he let out a small sob, his soft tummy contracting as if that one little peck was enough to make him explode. “Please.” he whimpered, softly gripping the sheets, his body on fire and the only thing that could help was your touch.

The eye contact never broke as you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling as you licked at his tip, guiding his length slowly into your mouth and feeling it hit the very back of your throat. You let it rest there for a second, before pulling away and repeating the very same action, Eddie’s moans filling your ears as he slowly started thrusting his hips upwards, eventually taking charge and fucking into your mouth, your jaw slack as you took him in. Heaven had fallen right before you, Eddie’s eyes closed as he tried his best to keep a steady, comfortable rhythm, his kiss bitten lips wide open, letting out mewls of pleasure and gasps that were filled with the need for more.

“Fuck, I-I need, oh my god. Fuck, need to taste you.” he gasped out, his voice heavy with what you could only describe as a fucked out daze, the feeling in his stomach growing by the second making him think he’d cum all over before he even got the chance to be inside you. You couldn’t resist Eddie, even if the alcohol in your veins was already starting to slowly wear off, you didn’t want to stop. So you gave yourself to him, his hands bringing your dripping and swollen cunt right to his face, your thighs on either side of his head as he gripped your hips, breathing in the scent that wafted from the soft folds of your sex.

“Fuck Eddie, just do it baby.” you were already breathless, so the feeling of his tongue excitedly staring to lap up all the juice that were already making the inside of your thighs sticky only served to punch the oxygen right from your lungs, your eyes not being able to focus on anything and opting to instead shut tightly as you felt Eddie’s tongue enter your waiting hole, licking you up in ways you thought were nearly impossible for a single human to be able to muster up. It was insane actually, your loud voice echoing through his trailer, surely waking up at least a few nearby trailers as his lips wrap around the little bud of nerves, sucking so harshly that you were sure to pass out any second. You didn’t fucking know where he learned to do this shit, as far as you were concenred both of you were still virgins, hell your first fucking kiss had been each other during valentines day of freshman year, self pity being used as an excuse to learn to suck faces behind the schools loading dock.

“God yes yes yes, Eddie oh my god!” you couldn’t help the praise that left your lips, hips gyrating to meet his flat muscle, your legs quivering as you neared your end. So Eddie unexpectedly pulling away was not very warmly welcomed as you groaned, already missing the way his mouth worked you so close to the edge. “Ride me, please fuck I can’t take it anymore, just wanna be inside you.” he pleaded, burying his face on the skin of your stomach and his hands pushing you downwards slowly.

His wish was your command, and as quickly as he had voiced his wants and needs had you found yourself pressing the tip of his dick inside to your hole, moaning at the sudden pressure that his skin brought to yours. At this point you were just embarrassingly wet, giving room for him to very easily slide his girth into you, a devilish sound rumbling from his chest as he bottomed out, his balls pressing right against your ass.

It was a lot all at once. He was just so big, so long and so hot. Even if the first few seconds had been slightly pain inducing, uncomfortable to be sat on, it quickly turned into a raging fire that would only be satiated if you moved your hips against his, rising tentatively and sinking down on him. Your eyes cracked open to see how Eddie was doing, and frankly you don’t think you’d ever seen him this absolutely fucked out into an oblivous ocean of pleasure.

“So fucking tight. So warm.” he whined, using what little physical strength he had in the moment to sit up right, pressing his chest against yours and pushing himself into a balanced position by placing his left hand beside him on the sheets. It didn’t take long to start a wild cycle, both of your hips snapping to meet each other, his hard dick sliding so deliciously in and out of your leaking entrance, erotic nosies being pulled from both of you, volume no longer a concern as years of pent of love, care and teenage horniness were being spent on his bed.

“Eddie, don't stop!” you yelled, barely able to keep up with him as your own right hand landed to your side, the new mirrored angle giving room to feel just how deep Eddie could thrust inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting that spongey, heart strangling part inside of you that had the power to completely shut down your body. “M’never. Never stopping. You’re mine.” his hot breath was right at your lips, coaxing you to finish off the small distance between the two of you, a crash of lips teeth and two tongues doing a much better job at muffling all the sex noises that neither of you could control alone. Nothing mattered outside of Eddie’s bed, nothing but the way his hand held onto you for dear merciful life, the way your bodies met in a beautiful connection of slick wetness, how your praise seemed to only be aimed at him, tailored to perfection, making the muscles in his body convulse.

“I’m gonna cum.” he groaned out, his head heating up with a fire he thought was dripping lava, pouring over his head and melting his brains as he fucked into you. His hair was completely droopy, the sweat that his body was creating far too much to keep it light and fluffy. He could feel the way you clenched around him, the way your body reacted to getting speared by his. All he could’ve ever wished for in the last few years was being played out right in his bedroom, like a porno that had been based straight from his memories when he was alone, his hand alone fisting his leaking cock. At that moment Eddie knew his hand would never again do the trick. Not when he knew what it was like to be balls fucking deep inside of your pussy, fucking the everloving brains out of you as you gave yourself to him, body molding to fit with his own.

“Come on baby, come for me, god please cum inside me.” your bat shit dirty words exploded a million bombs inside of Eddie. In any other circumstance you would’ve thought that he has been in pain had you heard the sound he let out the second that white hot coil snapped in his core, but right now all you could feel was his hardened cock spilling warm cum deep inside of you, the sticky substance shooting from his balls and coating your walls. It was too much, this was your breaking point, his name slipping past your lips as he thrust into his orgasm one last time, triggering the most intense fucking feeling you could’ve ever hoped to experience.

By the time you had regained proper consciousness and the colorful explosion behind your eyelids had slowed to a stop the only thing you could hear were Eddie’s heaving pants next to your ear, his back leaned against the headboard and his hands wrapped tightly around your midsection. You felt a warm liquid that licked at the skin of your thighs, dripping softly and coating Eddie’s own as his head fell to rest on your chest, the new found position too comfortable for you to want to further inspect the soaked feeling,

“You fucking squirted baby.” he breathed out, holding you closer as he spoke. Your eyes shooting wide open but your body too tired to make an effort to scramble off him to see if he was telling the truth. “So fucking hot.” he whispered, finally lifting his head and smiling lazily at you, his eyes so close to being fully shut that you didn’t know why he even bothered to look up.

“I’m sorry.” you squeaked, feeling shame rise from your stomach as your eyes caught the wet patch on his bed’s mattress, seeping through the thin cover. You could only feel his laugh, reverberating across your body. “Don't apologize, it’s not everyday the love of my life loses her virginity, takes mine and squirts on my bed all in the same night.” his filter is still turned off, meaning he entire body freezes as he completely registers everything he just said to you.

“Should’ve told me sooner then, cuz you’ve been the love of MY life for the past few years. Even before I grew tits.” you mocked, remembering how often you’d catch little 13 year old Eddie staring at your newly formed mounds, shamelessly avoiding any and all things thrown at him while he took your body in. Eddie pulled out of you slowly, laying down so that you could rest soundly on his chest. You grimaced a little, feeling his warm cum follow his already soft cock. “I know it’s a little backwards, but would you like to be mine? Like my girlfriend?” he timidly asks, eyes casting down towards you to examine your features.

“I’d love to.” you smiled, leaning to peck his lips softly. “For the record, I also had a crush on you before you grew tits.” Eddie mocked.

Joe’s Happy Trail >>>>

7-19-22

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #st4 #st4 vol2 #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut

537 notes · View notes

amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

Text

Replaced part 2

Part 1

Genre: angst. Angst with a happy ending, fluff

A/N: The 2nd part in the replaced!mc au that I wrote a couple days ago. Enjoy! Its super long: 9 1/2 pages long with a 4.6k word count.

-------------------------------------------------

Blinding lights cloud Arella’s vision as she wakes. Her head turns to the side as she blinks, seeing nothing but a white vastness. Where was she? The human pushes herself up as someone calls out to her, a woman- no she’s an angel, Arella is sure of it from the way an ethereal glow seems to emanate from her form. She takes a moment to look over the angel in front of her.

Tan, freckled skin, black hair weaved with golden strands that ended at the middle of her back in soft curls, vibrant sea-green eyes- Arella thinks she’s the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. Her dress and wings are a pristine white save for the singe marks along the outer layers of her wings’ feathers and the bottom of her dress and the arrow that pierces through the center of her chest. It doesn’t take the human long to figure out who the angel standing in front of her is.

“Lilith...”

The angel only smiles sadly at her descendant. She crouches down next to Arella, brushing her curly black hair away from her face and the tears come forth almost instantly.

“They left me...” Arella’s voice is small. “They didn’t love me anymore.”

“But they do... And they always will.” The angel pulls her into an embrace as she speaks softly. “My brothers have always taken things for granted. It’s only once they’ve lost something important to them that they realize it’s worth.”

“What do I do next? What happens now?”

“Go back to them. Not as a human, but a demon.”

“How- !?” A terrible burning engulfs Arella’s body and suddenly she’s falling. Falling down, down, down, until the bright white light and Lilith disappear from view. Her skin- it feels like its burning away as she plunges deeper.

The next thing she knows, Arella is gasping for breath as air rushes into her lungs and the smell of Mammon’s cologne invades her sense of smell, his hold nearly crushing as he cradles her closer to his chest. She can hear Diavolo speaking but his words are garbled- a jumbled mess of word salad drowned out by the fire scorching her skin from the inside out. The way her entire body hurts is all she can think about as she succumbs to the comforting darkness of sleep.

-------------------------------------------------

When she wakes, its two days later. Everything feels sharper. Her sight is better than it’s ever been. She can hear the crows cawing from the aviary on the other side of the house. She can even smell the individual scents of the brothers who were still up in their rooms and...

“You’re awake?” Melissa’s soft voice makes Arella recoil. Even as a whisper, it sounds like she’s screaming at Arella. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your ears.”

“It’s... Please... Just let me have a few moments...”

Melissa nods and just sits quietly beside the newly awakened demon. It takes a few moments to get a hold of herself and get her newly sharpened senses in check but Arella manages to push herself into a sitting position.

“Would you like to talk?” The blonde asks softly, “I feel like we should clear up a misunderstanding...”

“What��s there to misunderstand?” Arella asks. “It seems pretty cut and dry to me... they chose you and cast me aside like a broken toy that had lost its novelty.”

“I’m sure it felt like that. And it's my fault, that much I’ll agree to. I should have never asked them to help me land a date with Satan... this wouldn’t have happened, right? I can understand if you despise me.”

Arella laughs at that. She doesn’t know why but despite being mad at six out of the seven brothers for not communicating this to her, it was entertaining to her. Was that all it was? Was all of this caused by something so simple as that? Arella knew her boys often had a one-track mind but this was so ridiculous, both on her part and theirs. She rolled off the bed as she laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks as her demon form manifested itself for the first time. Melissa only peered over the side of the bed at Arella, a worried look in her brown eyes as the laughter died down and the former human climbed back up on the bed.

“Are you... angry? With me?”

“Not with you but-” They were interrupted by the sound of three sets footsteps thumping down the hall above her head and before she knew it, Arella found herself back on the floor but this time pinned under Mammon who’s holding on to her with all of his strength as two of his brothers stood in the doorway having gotten there too late to stop him.

“Hey, Dumbass,” It’s Levi’s voice that she hears as he draws closer, “You’re going to crush her crashing into her full force like that!” The purple-haired demon tried to pull his brother away receiving a feral growl in response.

“Mammon, stop! Right now.” Arella tries to use their pact to enforce the order but.... It’s not there anymore. The Avatar of Greed only holds her tighter to him. There was nothing that would separate him from his mate- not after the way he was this close to losing her.

At some point by working together, Beel and Levi were able to pry the white-haired demon off of Arella and she sat up. That’s right... she had died so she no longer held pacts with the seven brothers. But if she had died, why was she here? Ignoring the chaos happening around her between the three brothers, she looked into the floor length mirror and softly gasped at her appearance.

A set of fluffy, feathered, black wings adorned her back while a set of horns jutted out from her head in a way that was not too dissimilar from Belphegor’s. She had black markings that framed the side of her face and reached out to just under her eyes and a crescent shaped one on her forehead. The newly turned demon only squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She’s supposed to be dead! Why still breathing and why does she have a demonic form all of a sudden?!

As Mammon and his brothers continued to squabble over Arella, she curled in on herself, holding her hands over her ears. “All of you, just SHUT UP!” Sobs shook her body as the other demons turned their attention to her. Their voices were too loud and her ears were still too sensitive to loud sounds to the point if felt like the sensory overload was going to make her head explode.

“’Rella... I...” The Avatar of Greed, now free of Beel and Levi’s hold, reaches out to place his hand on her shoulder but is stopped when one of her wings slaps his hand away.

“Get out! All three of you... you... you should have just let me die like I wanted...”

And it's with that that the three Avatars look between each other before slowly leaving. Once the boys had gone, Melissa slowly moved over to Arella’s place on the floor, wrapping her arms around the other female as she comforted her.

-------------------------------------------------

It’s nearly midnight now as the Avatars sit in silence in the common room. They had met to discuss a way to reforge the bond they had shared with the human-now-turned-demon, but no words had been said. They all knew who should be the first of them to do this but it was the how. How did they even begin to approach her at this point? Mammon was for having no plan at all, just playing the situation by ear. It’s not like she could overpower him in anyway. What’s the worst she could do? Kick him in the shins? Not something he hadn’t survived already.

“Well, since none of ya still have a plan yet- and it doesn’t look like any of ya are gonna come up with one soon- I'm going ta see her.” The white-haired demon stands and starts to make his way toward her room with no objections from his brothers as there was no other alternative they could offer him. He knows what she’s feeling- like she was abandoned, unloved. As her mate he wanted to fix all that- that was his responsibility. His brothers could make up with her later but he needed to do this right now. He was her first after all, he needed to be the first to talk to her.

As he opened her bedroom door, Melissa was leaving at the same time.

“So, you’re back... good I was just coming to find you. I tried to explain everything but I don’t think it worked and she still seems convinced you don’t love her anymore... Obviously this is something only you can fix so I’ll just leave you two to it. Also... I think she needs help changing back out of her demon form... she keeps knocking things over with her wings and getting agitated.”

The blonde gives her friend a pat on the arm as she headed off to find the others.

Slowly, Mammon entered her room. At the sound, the feathers on Arella’s wings puffed up, the wings herself raising to make herself more intimidating to him and he has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at how ridiculous she looks like that. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“Put yer wings down, baby. Ya don’t scare me. I wanna talk to you.”

“Well, that’s funny. I don’t want to talk to you,” Arella growled. “You made your choice and it didn’t include me.” She crossed her arms as she turned her back to him. It was cute in a way.

“Then how ‘bout I jus’ do the talkin’ then? Will ya just’ listen?” He offered her a deal, watching as her wings drooped slightly and he knew he had her. Even as a demon, Arella was incapable of not lending a listening ear when asked for it.

“Fine,” She huffed. “You won’t leave until you say whatever you want too anyway but I don’t care about whatever lies you have for me. I already know the truth.”

“Sure, whatever ya say, doll.” He moved to sit on her bed, goading her into talking to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?!” She stomped over to him a pout on her face. “I’ll have you know, I’m very angry with you. You-!”

Mammon cut her off with a kiss as he pulled her down on the bed with him. The surprise was enough to shock her out of demon form as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When he pulled away, he held her gaze with his.

“I’m sorry for not bein’ there for ya... I messed up- alla us did and we’re so sorry but don’t think for a second that I don’t love ya. Ya mean the world ta me.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it, you infuriating demon. I heard the two of you flirting in the dining room that one night... You didn’t even ask her to stop.”

“Yeah, it sure probably sounded like that, didn’t it? We weren’t flirting with each other. Melissa asked me to help her practice her pick-up lines for Satan. She ain’t interested in me and I made it clear I wasn’t lookin’ for it if she was ‘cuz I had you.” he poked a finger at the center of her chest.

“But... but... You didn’t say anything. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped too.”

“’Cuz I’m a idiot and it never occurred to me what kinda impression you’d get from it. C’mon, Treasure, this ain’t news.” He tries to flash her a smile. “’N before I knew it, almost a year had passed... I felt really guilty and tried ta call ya... but you’d already made up yer mind... Ya got me good, kid. I learned my lesson the hard way...”

Arella frowned as she watched his eyes for any sign of a lie. “How am I still alive? How did I suddenly become a demon...? I carved that long gash up my arm deep for a reason.”

“We gave ya my blood... jus’ a small amount but it did the trick. We turned ya and ya healed up immediately.” He pressed their foreheads together. “None of us know what we’d do without ya. And the fact that we almost lost ya two days ago scares us... We’ll make it up to you somehow. Even if it takes thousands of years.”

“You, specifically, can start tonight. Do you know how many date nights or movie nights you’ve missed? How much I’ve missed just having you in bed with me? I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night!” Arella hugs him closer to her. “That’s what you can do start making it up to me.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Babydoll, but we’re gonna sleep in my room. Ya don’t need this room anymore.” he hums as he shifts his arms under her and lifts her up, carrying her up to his room for the night.

-------------------------------------------------

The pair sleeps so late into the next morning that they end up missing breakfast. By time they come remotely close to even wanting to roll out of bed, Levi is already banging on Mammon’s door.

“It's noon already, guys! Get your butts out of bed! You’ve had Arella too long! Stop being greedy with her.” It's not the Avatar of Envy’s typical wakeup call but desperate times call for desperate measures. He had a whole stock pile of games he was dying to play but was saving the initial play through to be with Arella and he couldn’t take it anymore. Unlike Melissa, she was actually in to all the niche horror games that were supposed to come out over the past year.

“What’s he ramblin’ about now?” The Avatar of Greed looks up at his door before letting his head fall back on the pillow as he groaned. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Then you can stay in bed.” Arella presses a kiss to his cheek before rolling away from his grasp. “I think your brother is only interested in me anyway considering he’s not saying anything about the money you owe him.

“But I don’t want you ta go,” The demon gives his mate the biggest puppy dog eyes in an attempt to get her to come back to bed with him. “Levi’ll keep ya all day.”

“And you’ll have me all night. I promise. Besides, I missed hanging out with him.” She turns to the door. “I’ll be there shortly, Levi!”

“Fiiiiiiiinnnnnneeeeee,” Mammon groans, sulking just a little bit and Arella laughs at his reaction.

“Oh? Is that a hint of sulking I detect coming from you?” Her tone is teasing, “You- the demon who’s been ghosting me for the past eleven months to the point where I thought you weren’t interested in our relationship anymore- is sulking because I’m going to end up spending the rest of one day with your little brother? I’m starting to detect double standards here, my dear.”

“Oh, shaddup,” He chucked a pillow at her head as they both laughed. “Just go and get dressed.”

“I will,” She made a ‘hmph’ like sound before running off to change out of her pajamas. “I’m stealing one of your flannels by the way.” She informs him as she walks out of the walk-in closet fully dressed.

“The hell you are!” He scrambles out of bed and chases her down as she leaps up the stairs and makes a break for it down the hall toward Levi’s room. As she runs, Arella thinks maybe being a demon has its perks after all.

-------------------------------------------------

“So what games are we playing first?” Arella makes herself comfortable on the floor next to the third born.

“It's another time loop horror game where if you don’t solve the mystery before times up your character has a permadeath and you have to go through everything again with the suspect being a new person each time. I promise this time it won’t affect us... Maybe.”

Arella laughs at that, remembering back to that time where they had to ferret out someone’s wish before the time loop reset. “Let’s just hope for your sake it doesn’t. I dread to see what Lucifer might do to you.”

“Yeah,” the purple-haired demon smiles as they begin the game.

After a couple hours of the two demons playing niche horror games, they took a bit of a break.

“I missed days like this... The days where we’d binge anime or play games.... I wish I hadn’t gotten forced into helping the others... Initially, I wasn’t going to since we already have one couple doing gross normie things. We didn’t need another.”

Arella laughs at that. “So, who was it that twisted your arm into helping?”

“Asmo bullied me into it. They were so relentless about it that I just got fed up and caved.”

“You know what, that tracks.”

“I really am sorry... You don’t hate me, do you?”

Her eyes widen at that. “No, Levi. I don’t hate you and I don’t think I can. You know I’ve never been one to hold grudges- especially with the seven of you. I always seem to forgive you guys eventually... And it seems like you all feel remorse for what happened so there’s no need to stay mad at any of you...”

“You know... Lucifer cried for you... when he and Mammon brought your body back to us two days ago... he was crying- they both were... And that’s when we really realized what we had done to you... that you were gone.”

“But I’m back now,” the demon says softly. “And this time, you guys won’t be getting rid of me. I’ll be around for the rest of your lives and I can’t think of a better way to spend it. Now, let’s get back to the game. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Levi only nods in return as he turns back to the tv.

-------------------------------------------------

“Arella!” Asmo links their arm with hers as they drag Arella off to their room. “How’re you feeling now? Better?”

“Uh... Yeah, thanks for asking. Where are we going?”

“My room, of course! We’re going to have a little bit of a spa day. No offense, but your skin looks absolutely trashed. Plus, now that you have a demon form, I can show you all the best oils and polishes that I use on my horns and I heard from Beel that you have the prettiest black wings that are just like Lucifer’s- okay, the pretty part I added on but still! I know some inexpensive, but quality oils to use when you preen them that’ll keep them looking pristine at all times.”

“Thank you, Asmo, I appreciate it.”

-------------------------------------------------

As the pair sat on the floor in the Avatar of Lust’s room, face masks in place, Asmo pulled out their endless collection of nail polish. They took one of Arella’s hands in theirs as they thought about what colors would work best for her that wasn’t already used for their brothers.

“How would you feel about a magenta? Or maybe- no, Lord Diavolo’s nails are black so it would be a repeat... Oh, oh what about that glittery gold that you like when we pair it with a black base? I bet you’d look good with rose gold nails too.”

“What about black with a gold design? It would be a bit different wouldn’t it plus I can’t remember anyone having designs on their nails. Aside from when you do nail art on yourself.”

“That’s genius! Why didn’t I think of that? Anyway, let’s get started.” The demon sets to work on her nails, letting out a satisfied hum once the first layer is done. While they waited for it to dry, Asmo pulled out some issues of DevilStyle for them to read. Some of their outfits had been featured in the latest issue and since some of them had been ones Arella had helped them refine months ago, they wanted her to see how their hard work paid off.

“They look amazing, Asmo.” She smiles as her eyes shine. “Is that the one we worked on together?”

They nodded. “Mhm. Mammon even modeled one of them. That one specifically, I tailored to him myself so it would look its best.”

“Can I see it? How long ago did he do this shoot?”

“Three months ago.” They turned to the centerfold. “He looked fantastic in it.”

“That he does- but then again when doesn’t he?”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

“Mmm, you’re not wrong.” and they both laughed softly at that. “So... I heard you were the mastermind behind trying to get Melissa and Satan together?”

“Yeah... It took forever too. I only thought it would take a few weeks since he’s my brother and I should know his tastes better than anyone but almost eleven months? It feels like a failure to my matchmaking skills.”

“So that’s why you were always busy with Melissa, huh? At least it worked right?”

“Thank the stars it did. But I was starting to think that it would never happen. Sorry we didn’t include you in the planning- we really should have... I really caused you a lot of pain, didn’t I?”

Arella nodded. “It hurt a lot thinking you guys had grown bored of me. Especially with Melissa being so much more than I ever could be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at me...” Arella makes an up and down motion with her hands. “She’s gorgeous. Long legs, blonde hair with pretty brown eyes that bring you in, skinny but not sickly looking. Right off the bat, she looked like she belonged here with you guys. And then you have me who regularly looks like a hot mess. I’m scrawny, far too skinny and I look like a midget standing next to any one of you. I guess for as much as I seem to fit in with you all, there’s always been a part of me that hasn’t. And I guess, once Melissa got here, it felt more prominent. Your little plan which took up everyone’s free time didn’t help.”

“I’m sowwy.... You’ll forgive me, right?” Asmo gave her the puppy dog eyes.

“What do you think, hmm?”

The Avatar of Lust threw their arms around her- careful of their face masks. “I knew you would. C’mon it’s time to get these face masks off.” They offered their hand to Arella as they went to go wash their faces off.

-------------------------------------------------

Arella admired her freshly painted nails as she walked down the hall. Unbeknownst to her, she was being stalked by a certain white-haired demon. He was quiet, sneaking up on her before he grabbed her.

“Gotcha!” He laughed as she let out a small squeak. “You’re mine now. C’mon, we’re goin’ out.”

“Out? Out where?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“A date, obviously. Told ya I was gonna make it up to ya for missin’ all them date nights...” he smiled as he set her down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m not takin’ no for an answer.”

“Alright, Alright.” she hummed. “I wouldn’t tell The Great Mammon ‘no’ anyway.” She laced their fingers together. “So, where’re are you taking me, love.”

“It's a surprise, so I can’t tell ya.” And with that the pair made their way out on the first date they’d had in months.

-------------------------------------------------

As the days went on, Arella found herself being tugged in all different directions by the brothers. There were days where as soon as they got out of class, Beel was dragging her off to a new café that had opened up that week or Belphie was taking up the rest of her free time with multi-hour-long naps- something Mammon had some choice words about.

Satan and Arella would exchange books for light reading as they sat in the library together and discussed their favorites. Sometimes Melissa would join them too, just as ecstatic about the books she’d gotten from the both of them. Lucifer would leave her teas order specifically from the human world that she often enjoyed. They had even returned to their occasional late-night chats over the same teas.

At school, Luke would often cling to Arella- not caring that she was now a demon as to him she would always just be Arella, human or otherwise- while Simeon only observed them with slight amusement, only to pull the small angel away once they had to split up for classes. The older angel had taken to calling or texting almost nightly to check on her.

Solomon-bless his heart- had started hanging around more, making various dishes for her to try at lunch and asking for her opinions on them. Having never learned from her prior experiences with the sorcerer's cooking, Arella still ate them out of both curiosity and politeness. Now that she was a demon, for some reason Arella had actually come to appreciate and enjoy the meals Solomon would make for her. The pair even joked about Arella making a pact with him but it was just that: a joke.

Now that it was months later, Arella felt even more ridiculous about ever feeling unloved by the people in her life- something they had proven untrue with their actions. Even with Melissa staying with them for an extended period of time after what should have been the end of her exchange year, Arella never felt cast aside for the blonde again. The pair had even begun hanging out together on their own without the influence of their housemates- something that Arella had wanted since Melissa first gotten there.

“So, what would you like to do today, Melissa?” Arella asked as the two women walked down the street. “I know you’re getting close to your return to the human world... its only a few weeks off.”

“Yeah... I don’t even know where to begin.” The blonde sighed. “What did you do during the last few weeks before you left after the initial year here was up for you?”

“I spent most of my time hanging out with the boys. They were all really upset to see me go... Are you planning to come back at some point? And what about you and Satan? Are you two going to keep in touch? You’re very good for each other- like two peas in a pod.”

“We’re going to, yes.” She confirmed. “I’ll still have my D.D.D. when I go back so we’ll talk and video chat through there. I’m going to miss you all though. I’ve had so much fun over the past year and half and it's all thanks to you guys.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” The demon smiles. “No one here is going to forget you. Make sure you try to come back at some point. They guys and I would be very happy to have you back.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Melissa hums as they enter the arcade.

After that it seemed like life had gone back to a somewhat normal house hold just with one more added on. Everything was at peace now even with some of the days where Arella feels less than good about herself. But she always had one of her seven demons there to remind her just how precious she was to them. During those times, she couldn’t think of a more suiting way to enjoy the rest of her long life.

-------------------------------------------------

Part 3 (the bad ending)

find more on my masterlist

130 notes · View notes

gureishi · 4 years ago

Note

I'm the same anon who asked!

Could you talk about Saeran? It doesn't need to be detailed or NSFW, I'm good with anything, I just want to know more about your headcanons!

Hello again lovely anon! ♡

Oops aaaand once again (no surprise, I know): it’s long. I just wanna preface this one with a couple things:

1. There are quite a few Certified Saeran Simps on this site who truly know him much better than I do. Take whatever I say with a grain of salt—I’m no expert!

2. I’m also not an expert on DID! Which isn’t the focus of these HCs, but is obviously relevant. I read lots of books! About brains n stuff! But please never hesitate to tell me if I describe something poorly.

3. I wrote for the AS timeline here but if you want me to talk about SE Saeran or Unknown tell me and you know I will <3

Tw: discussion of childhood abuse, neglect, and subsequent trauma symptoms

Saeran’s body headcanons

A child who grows up the way Saeran did—kept indoors, often physically restrained, and sometimes starved—is not going to develop in a healthy way. There’s a reason why, even as an adult, Saeran is a full 2 cm shorter than his identical twin: he never gets the nutrition and exercise that kids need in order to grow.

We know that his mother uses his sickliness as an excuse to keep him indoors: but was he born sickly, or is he sick and weak because he’s been malnourished and kept from running or playing or interacting with other children? He breathes stale, dry air all day; he’s living on mostly white bread, and not always at regular intervals (plus whatever sweets his brother can steal for him from the outside world). He is not well.

Child Saeran never learns any sports or games. He doesn’t learn how to play with other children, or tie his shoes, or make himself a snack. Adult Saeran doesn’t know how to skip—you’ll have to teach him.

If the twins didn’t have each other, neither one of them would have survived.

And as we know, the neglect that Saeran endures worsens tenfold after Saeyoung leaves. Any glimpses he was getting of the outside world—sneaking out when their mother was unconscious, getting whatever snacks and books Saeyoung could gather for him at church—are cut off.

I’m not gonna tell you when the alters appear, because I am by no means an expert on DID. From studies I’ve read, I can say that typically alters become manifest after a “traumatic turning point” (which is not necessarily the “worst” trauma endured, but simply a particularly salient traumatic experience). It’s definitely possible that the alters emerge in late childhood, while he is still in the house with his mother.

When Saeran is taken from his mother’s home by Rika and V, he is (needless to say) not in good shape. He is painfully skinny, extremely malnourished, and very weak. He still has his red hair and golden eyes, but already he is looking less and less like his brother: his cheeks are hollow and his eyes are dull.

There is a brief period of time, before his “cleansing” (Oh god. We’ll get there), where he is reasonably well cared for. For the first time in his life, he is eating meals—and he is getting to bathe regularly, and he is getting his hair cut and combed. He still believes, at this time, that he’ll be reunited with his brother. And he is going outside! He is learning how the grass feels between his toes and how the sky looks through clear eyes.

As we know: this doesn’t last.

The elixir is a truly horrifying combination of hallucinogenic substances. No human could consume this cocktail of drugs repeatedly and feel well: and Saeran is already physically weak, and severely underweight. The fact that he survives as long as he does under these conditions is a miracle.

We know that he is being tortured at this time, too: physically as well as emotionally. Saeran has scars, like his brother; while Saeyoung has lots and lots of tiny scars all over his body, Saeran has larger, more distinct scars: perhaps on his wrists, and his throat, and his ankles.

It is around this time that his eyes and hair change. The means by which this happens is incredibly vague in-game, and everyone’s individual HCs are valid. My personal belief is this: he dyes his own hair—first, in a frenzied, desperate attempt to stop seeing his brother looking back at him from the mirror. He keeps dying it because Rika approves: and he never does a good job, and it’s rough and fried, and that “pink” at the bottom? Just the red showing through his patchy dye job.

As for his eyes: I personally believe they change as a result of the elixir. If they were contacts, I don’t think that GE Saeran would necessarily still wear them—and in every timeline, he has those startling blue-green eyes.

The alters take care of the body in different ways.

Ray does not feed himself. He lives on caffeine pills and sweets (and, of course, the concoction of drugs that he’s being fed in increasingly large amounts). The body becomes even skinner when Ray is fronting. And he bites his nails and fingers—brutally, so they are chapped and cut and scarred. But Ray goes outside, and he works in the garden under the sun: his body is getting some form of exercise: and this is good for his lungs, and invigorates his weak, tired muscles.

Ray also takes care of his appearance—something Saeran never did before. He brushes and styles his hair; he dresses himself carefully in the clothes Rika has picked for him; he covers himself in beautiful scents so that he is more appealing to you.

When Suit is fronting, he wants to strip his body of anything that reminds him of Ray. So he styles his hair differently (but still: he is styling it), and he tries desperately to wash the scent of Ray off his skin. He doesn’t feed himself, either—but, if any of the alters are trying to become physically strong, it is Suit (of course). I’m certain that the Believers have a workout regime they’re supposed to be following; maybe Suit even does it (on his own, of course, in secret). He knows he needs to be able to protect himself—and he needs to feel powerful.

When you meet Ray, you don’t notice right away just how poorly he is doing. Rika has intentionally dressed him in a way that hides just how bony he is—and he wears those little gloves, of course, so you don’t see his ravaged fingers. But it doesn’t take long to catch on: he is so skinny you could almost blow him away, and there are dark shadows under his eyes, and he doesn’t sound like he’s taken a deep breath in years.

By the time you meet Suit, you already know the state their body is in: malnourished and weak. Ray cooked for you, but you wish you could cook for all of them; and even when Suit is starving you (in other words: reenacting the very abuse that was dealt to him in childhood), you wish you could wrap him in a big blanket and feed him a bowl of soup.

The Saeran that escapes Magenta with you—GE Saeran: the fusion of Ray and Suit (or a new alter, depending on what you believe)—has never made a single choice for himself in his whole life, until this moment. He never got to pick his own clothes, or what he would eat (if he ate at all), or how he would speak, or what he would do. Running away with you is the first real choice he has ever made—and no wonder this is pivotal and transformative for him.

The AE doesn’t portray the timeline of healing in a realistic way. After two weeks, we see GE Saeran so much healthier, both physically and mentally. And yes: two weeks of eating real food and sleeping in a bed make a difference: we see him with fuller cheeks and brighter eyes.

But what the game doesn’t address is the withdrawal he likely endures when he stops taking the elixir, which is full of substances that are both dangerous and addictive. It doesn’t address the time it takes to build up muscle mass, and get accustomed to healthy sleeping and eating habits, and to begin to heal from years and years of repeated trauma.

GE Saeran doesn’t heal right away, because healing doesn’t work that way. It’s not linear, or straightforward, or simple, or beautiful. It’s slow, and sometimes it’s painful.

But he does heal.

A Saeran who is in love with you is soft, and patient, and willing to put in the months and years (a lifetime!) of hard work to heal his body and his heart. You’ll get to watch as the dark circles under his eyes disappear, and his cheeks become less hollow, and his body grows stronger as he cooks (with you, and for you) and eats real meals and learns to run in the grass the way he never did before. He’ll make a garden, and you’ll get to see how he looks with sun on his face, his eyes clear as the sky as he gazes up at you—smiling.

You can show him how to moisturize his dry lips and cracked hands; you can help him pick out clothes he likes to wear; and you will learn how to support him when his memories haunt him.

And you can hold him: this beautiful, small, soft man, with his thin shoulders and scarred fingers. He’ll close his eyes and you’ll taste the sun on his skin as you kiss his eyelashes. He smells of earth and sky; he loves you with all the power of the universe.

#mystic messenger #saeran choi #ray #suit saeran #headcanons #asks #anon #body headcanons

214 notes · View notes

lost-inthedream · 4 years ago

Text

SF9 when they are in the mood but you are busy in the kitchen

NSFW alert

Drabbles right under the cut. Have fun!

➹ Youngbin:

Our leader is not the type to interrupt you often, but these special behaviors manifest from time to time. Has your boyfriend just slapped your butt out of nowhere? It means this and this only: he wants you so badly. Whether you are going to abandon your task or not, it is up to you, but the man stands quiet and close to you, his mischievous smile cannot be dirtier.

“What do you want?” you can ask just to be sure.

“You already know, beautiful.”

Once you take your hands off the dishes, he hooks you by the waist, the water still dripping from your hands as you both lean on your sides to the sink. His leg intrudes between yours and the closeness makes you aware of his hard-on. You simply grab his neck with cold wet hands, a minimal thermal shock on his warm skin. “Am I disturbing you?” he asks cynically with his hands making their way down your body.

The two of you start making out standing in the kitchen, but once you cannot keep inside your clothes anymore, you run to the bedroom.

➹Inseong:

This one arrives with a bear hug that almost fools you as an innocent approach. The move is not enough to stop your activity, even though his arms are crossing your front and consequently limiting your movements. When he is the needy one out of you two, his cheap chatting disappears. Inseong rather observes you silently, the way you shape the cookies with a form and arrange them on a large board. Until he cannot take it anymore and kisses the area right under your ear, the click of his lips sounds sweet at first, but he whispers a straight “I want you”

“Can I finish it?” you say just to tease.

He purrs a bit bitter and uncrosses his hands from your upper arms to your chest. "Finish if you can".

He takes his time grinding on your back as your neck is abused. You make out a little more, maybe sitting on a chair, but you will not finish in the kitchen.

➹Jaeyoon:

He often grins at you when he is in the mood. The passionate smile that he shows you after a long day makes him a hundred times sexier.

“Are you coming to help me or?” you do not finish your question. It was not necessary.

“The second option.” He answers and extends his arms in your direction, so he can separate your hand from the knife you make use. He leads your hands on his body and induces you to hold his member through his pants, so your appetite increases to match his.

Probably wants you sitting on the table with him between your legs. This dude does not mind getting fully naked beside the vegetables you were intent on chopping earlier.

➹Dawon:

Okay, he is extremely likely to come back from the gym in the mood for it. We know that Sanghyuk has been enjoying himself and feeling very proud of his body. Exercising gets him wanting to thrust into you as you say he is hot, that he is the best man you have ever had.

At the moment he sees you working so diligently in the kitchen, he apologizes beforehand, and then starts sucking on your neck.

“Don’t say no, sweetheart.”

His fingertips reach your scalp as he holds your head, tilting it to the side. He definitely is going to leave marks on your skin. You both end up removing your clothes while your lips fight taking turns at sucking random parts of your bodies.

➹Rowoon:

If you’ve read my Sf9 eating you out post, you know that I’m hype to give more thoughts on Rowoon with his girl in the kitchen.

Rowoon is the type to look for exposed parts of your body to toy with even when he is cool. But when he gets aroused his touches get a bit demanding. In any case, this man is conscious enough to ask whether you are okay with his hands cupping your breasts from under your shirt.

You can struggle to keep working since he obviously will not be satisfied at only touching you with his hands.

His tongue wets your shoulder, he makes a short path with it before whining at you for not giving him enough attention when he could simply drag you away from that household duty.“Can I touch you down here?” he suddenly asks with his large hand ready to glide your pants zipper down.

He draws you to give up and let him do whatever he feels like. Expect tons of oral, at least two orgasms and both of you rushing to the bedroom when he cannot wait any longer to be inside you.

➹Zuho:

I honestly cannot see him beating on the bush to get you away from the kitchen.

“Pretty girl, You know I can gladly do everything for you after a quickie.”

You cannot help a deep and noisy sigh, since you know the sex he is referring to as a quickie is going to last quite a lot. You know how wasted you’re going to feel when he finally decides that it was worthy. Even so, you look right into his vampire-like eyes and nod. Yes, he mesmerized you.

He connects your mouth to his in a harsh kiss, pressing your noses together until he pulls back all of a sudden “You won’t regret it, honey.”

➹Yoo Taeyang:

Taeyang asks what you are doing although it is way obvious. “And are you gonna take much to finish it?”

If your answer is positive, he gets so bitter. Probably makes a grimace without noticing, which makes you worried. “Do you wanna talk, Taeyangie? Are you okay?”

He stares at you, then looks away at your hands clearly having an inner debate. He finally reaches you to fiddle with your blouse strap and answers “I don’t need to talk, but I won’t be fine if you don’t come with me to the bedroom.” As he finishes his explanation, his frontal teeth sink in his bottom lip, making him irresistible.

You start to grind to one another right away, trying to find some ground on the wall or maybe against the refrigerator. You might take some clothes off but the climax is gonna take place in the bedroom.

➹Hwiyoung:

His entrance into the kitchen is slightly hurried, but once he sees you are preparing something complex to eat, he slows down and ponders. You are still clueless and he can just give you a fake excuse. He almost ignores his nasty thoughts, but steps back.

“Princess, I really appreciate your cook skills, but I don’t want you to cook right now.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look at him with a confused expression.

“I’m so sorry, I really feel like fucking”

Your previous concern fades away into excitement as he walks closer, Youngkyun has just gathered assertiveness to take the fouet that you held and make you grab him instead. “Let’s do something together before I help you with this recipe” he suggests in a throaty tone, drawing your attention to his lips.

He sits in a chair pulling you on top of him and you ride him right there. his hips buck up a few times but he loves having you imposing your own pace on a chair.

➹Chani:

He starts trying to convince you to give up on cooking “Why don’t we order food?”

“Again?” you ask without even look at him “I miss my own seasoning. Don’t you?”

He might press the space between his eyebrows in disbelief, then ends up spilling the truth.

“I miss another thing from you.”

If you were in fact giving him attention, you would notice his dark eyes almost stripping you off. He figures out the need to making a list to convince you.“Okay, baby, I miss your naked body on mine, I miss your hands on my chest when you ride me, I miss your lips around my…”

“My gosh, Chani. Ask me to fuck already.”

He shrugs and pushes you against the wall, his hands settle spread wrapping on both sides of your neck. You see him angling his head to capture your lips, then you do not see anything else. He is extremely likely to slide his member into you standing right there.

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 smut #sf9 reactions

281 notes · View notes

equalseleventhirds · 4 years ago

Text

fdsjflsk hello i have had the magnus archives and the web specifically on my mind AGAIN and this is only tangentially related to the convo last night BUT

a lot of ppl have shown up on my & other ppl's posts abt 'wow manipulation and spiders? why??' going 'well but there are spider tricksters in mythology'

and like... yeah, ok, there are. but are there that many, compared to other animal tricksters, and spider not-tricksters? enough to justify the exclusivity of spiders to the one entity??

so i. made a list, as i do. (you can't judge me for this you should know by now i make lists at the SLIGHTEST provocation) actually i made TWO lists, one of spiders in mythology & how they line up with tma's entities, and one of tricksters in mythology. (i knew some of these already but i also got a lot of them off of wikipedia. also tried to avoid detailing the uh. worse aspects of mythologies. we all know abt it but that isn't the point here.)

(we are ignoring for now my theory that the web's actually shit at manipulation and mostly just does control, and considering any spider that does manipulation OR control to be web-aligned)

spiders in mythology (and how they align w/ tma's various entities, if they even do):

anansi: okay i'll give you this one! yeah he is the trickster spider! yeah he lies & manipulates! he's not really uhhhh evil in any way or would inspire ppl to generate fear for the entities to shape themselves to, but ok yeah i'll give you that one as web!

arachne: she literally just wove tapestries? got into a competition with athena and wove a tapestry detailing the infidelities of the gods. like, if anything she is eye, going around revealing truths and stuff.

uttu: mostly seems to be about creation? weaving & plants. hid herself in her web, which isn't manipulation at all, it's just hiding. not rly entity aligned at all, at worst she's probably a victim of like, the hunt? maybe?

iktomi: another trickster! p much the same boat as anansi, where he's not particularly evil, but we'll let him be web.

spider grandmother: she just is helpful!! she creates & guides & protects! no entities.

ai apaec: creator & leader god again. only sometimes a spider.

djieien: just a very strong spider who hid its heart so it couldn't be killed? like, if anything, end.

great goddess of teotihuacan: associated with spiders, maybe not a spider herself? doesn't seem to be much known abt her, but potentially underworld, darkness, earth, creation, lots of things. no mention of manipulation or control.

nareau: another creation god. i guess he does do some arguably flesh-aligned stuff in that creation, but like, so do a lot of other creation myths.

areop-enap: again creation! hmm what a pattern emerges. doesn't seem particularly aligned with any entities.

tsuchigumo: ok i can give you web here i guess? bcos it does trick ppl, even if that tricking also kind of slides into spiral/stranger territory. and hunt territory obvs it literally is there to consume prey. also can give you evil here.

jorogumo: can also be web! there is lying & shapeshifting here, like the tsuchigumo, but slightly less pure evil? there's like, a couple of neutral depictions, but also evil ones. anyway. web.

gamba: not on wikipedia but wikipedia only talks abt the filipino story of the spider who wanted to marry the fly, NOT gamba, and i LOVE gamba. anyway she just created things. got too into her work and turned into a spider. idk what entity is 'fear of being a workaholic' but it's not the web. maybe lonely, since she neglected her family relationships abt it?

conrad of constance: not a spider himself, but drank out of a cup with a spider in it, showing that the cup was not poisoned even tho ppl thought spiders were poisonous. i don't... i don't think this is an entity. hey jonny maybe take some hints here, spiders are not that bad--

robert of bruce: my dude saw a v persistent spider and was inspired! it's chill it's cool! spiders helped scotland gain independence one time! wow no wonder fucking smirke hated them--

pan twardowski: again not a spider himself, but he lives on the moon and a spider hangs out with him and brings him news. a friendly spider! pan twardowski himself can be lonely ig, maybe the spider is eye, but like, a friendly eye.

vedic philosophy: now this is not technically mythology but i thought it was interesting, in this one a spider's web hides the true reality from ppl. could be argued as web but seems pretty much spiral to me? but like, a not v evil spiral, just like. neutral? it's fine.

overall... majority creation gods, actually. very few even evil depictions? wow jonny, rude.

anyway, list of animals (besides spiders) shown as tricksters in mythology:

humans! majority humans!! also like. specifically clowns several times? like, specifically clowns.

just kinda non-animal spirits/beings/whatever? sometimes vaguely humanoid.

rabbits & hares

foxes

coyotes

wolves

g...goats? sort of?? half a goat, anyway, thank you pan.

cats

ravens

mouse-deer! look up mouse-deer you will LOVE them.

monkeys

raccoons

also raccoon dogs

snakes

horses

praying mantises

tortoises

lizards

also a bunch of tricksters who shapeshift into like, a multitude of animals, but given that those are not their primary or even main secondary forms i guess we will not go into those (mostly that would just. take so much time omg.)

i didn't do a full tally, but foxes especially show up a TON, and rabbits or hares quite a bit, so either of those could've been the fear-god of manipulation. if like, we're relying on the 'there are stories about spider tricksters' thing (which we are not, in fact, i think jonny just picked a Cool Literary Symbol and did not think abt the worldbuilding implications so much)

EDIT bcos ppl keep misunderstanding: i don't think tricksters are the main source of the fear of manipulation. i don't even think tricksters should be considered a reasonable source for the web's manifestations. BUT people kept bringing them up when i had issues with the web's spider exclusivity (when both spiders and manipulation SHOULD have multiple metaphors and not be exclusive to each other) and that is why i made this list, thank you.

(also i'm aware there are ways to justify spiders meaning control sometimes. given the worldbuilding of tma, i don't think there's a way to justify them meaning control always. but that's a different post.)

#fdskjlfs hello good morning i'm making lists again #but ppl bring this up SO MUCH and like... it's not as relevant as they seem to think?#like STATISTICALLY spiders should not have wound up where they are in the tma fear pantheon #but oh well

82 notes · View notes

soldierswar · 4 years ago

Text

Kobik - Chapter III

Bucky X Reader

Mostly angst for this chapter

Chapter 2:

Chapter summary: You're learning that the extent of Kobik's power is far more intricate than you could have ever imagined. And you quickly learn that you're going to have to get used to it a little longer than you would have expected.

...................................

“Does she eat?” you asked Bucky in hushed tones standing by the fridge while watching Kobik contently watching tv.

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“You could just ask her.”

You felt a mild shudder travel through you. Whatever reservations that you were feeling towards her earlier amplified times 100 after waking up to her cries last night.

When you had been woken up, by the time you reached the living room you walked into an entirely different room. But not nearly in the way that you had expected. There wasn’t a giant hole in a wall, there weren’t papers flying around the room, or any broken pieces of furniture.

No. It was an entirely different room. Or rather…science lab. When you had first seen it you thought you were dreaming. This had to be some type of nightmare or trance. But when you pinched yourself multiple times, it was clear that this wasn’t in some way, shape, or form unreal.

When Bucky finally followed you into the room, that was when you spotted Kobik crying in the corner looking helpless, and scared. And yet, Bucky was surprisingly if not eerily calm. He didn’t even look surprised.

He sat down in the corner with her rubbing her back and assuring her that she was safe and that it was just a nightmare. When she finally started to feel better, he convinced her to turn everything back to normal. And before your eyes, everything shapeshifted back into place. In fact, everything looked even more organized than before.

When she went back to sleep, Bucky explained to you that one of her powers included being able to shapeshift, and even create new surroundings. Her changing the living room into the place that she had grown up around was some kind of uncontrollable trauma response brought on by some nightmare flashback. Something that you were both familiar with.

That didn’t really deter how freaked out you were about it.

“Y/N she isn’t going to murder you if you just ask what kind of food she likes.”

He really had to say the M-word.

“Hey, Kobik!” he shouted looking you dead in the eye as he waited for her to come over in an inhumanely short period of time.

“Yeah?” she responded giving a beaming smile. It was infectious enough to make him smile fondly. Keyword, him.

“What do you usually like for breakfast?”

She paused and thought about it.

“Pizza!”

“Pizza?” Bucky questioned.

“Pepperoni.”

“Specific,” you muttered.

“How about cereal,” he suggested and pulled out a box of Coco Puffs.

Kobik shrugged and walked over to where the bowls were in the cabinets. When she realized that she was too short to reach them, she jumped from the floor onto the counter in one swift movement from surface to surface without even using her hands to climb up. Couldn’t she at least try to act like a normal child?

Bucky used the back of his hand to close your agape jaw. You might have thought about walking away again, but you were starving.

Bucky had suggested that you try to get used to her and that she was actually a really sweet kid. And here you were hoping that she wouldn’t be around for much longer for you to even need to get used to her.

But you decided that it was time to challenge your own stubbornness and at least try for your poor husband’s sake. At least a little bit.

You sat on the opposite side of the small table from her. You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning a hole through you somewhat afraid of what you might say or do. And you shot him a small facial expression that said,

“You have no faith in me.”

“Hey Kobik,” you started while grabbing the cereal box and pouring yourself a pile of Coco Puffs.

She seemed kind of surprised that you were talking to her. Part of you wanted to be offended…But her reaction was fair.

“Hm?” she replied with her mouth full of food.

“How old are you exactly?”

She thought about it, raising her eyes up to the ceiling. After a few seconds, she raised four fingers up.

You automatically thought about what Bucky said, and how strange her answer was. Bucky said that he had known her for at least a year and that she was that age already.

“Kobik, how long have you been that old?”

They thought about it again counting on her fingers. 2, 3, 4…And stopped, giving you the four fingers again. She had been like that for that long? Was she always going to be like this? Could she choose to get older if she wanted to? Or did she just like being the way that she was?

“Kobik’s happy the way she is right now, aren’t you kid?” Bucky added.

Kobik nodded and gave him a huge grin.

Suddenly Bucky’s phone began to ring. He looked down at his phone and stepped away into your office to answer. You knew this had to be serious.

“Do you like coloring books?” Kobik asked you, making you snap out of whatever thoughts you were having about this phone call.

“Hm?” you answered.

“Do you like coloring books?”

Her little voice was so chipper, and she was so happy asking you this question. Part of you started to feel a little bad about your aversion to her.

Almost.

Again, you were still incredibly freaked out about what happened not even 8 hours ago.

“We don’t have any here, but I think we can—”

Suddenly cupped her hands slightly and delicately and hovered them over the table and made two coloring books and a huge box of crayons appear out of thin air.

…You were just going to tell her to use the iPad.

Bucky wasn’t there to make you close your mouth again.

“You make that face a lot,” she pointed out.

You closed your mouth and then tilted your head.

“And that one.”

You tried your best to make your face neutral as she reached for a crayon and began coloring while using her other hand to continue to shovel cereal into her mouth.

“Y/N?” Bucky said softly signaling you to come over to talk in private.

You followed his direction and comfortably rested your back against the wall crossing your arms.

“You won’t believe what she just did,”

“I’m sure I can…Listen,” he began.

“I just got a call from Sam. They need me to come along.”

“Where? Back to Norway?”

He shook his head.

“Evidence is pointed to them having some base in Germany. I think it’s going to be a couple of days.”

You froze. By the look on his face, you knew what he was about to say.

“I need you to watch Kobik.”

You wanted to say no. You really really wanted to say no. But you knew that you couldn’t. But you still wouldn’t let yourself shut your mouth.

“What if something happens again?” you replied in very hushed tones. You had no idea how good her hearing was.

“Like last night…” Your heart skipped a nervous beat thinking about how reality almost completely bent before your eyes.

“Y/N…I know it freaked you out—”

“Freaked me out?” you shrieked.

“Bucky,” your continued hushing your tone again.

“Freaked out is a complete understatement. Did you not see what happened?”

“But she didn’t hurt you.”

You crossed your arms.

“And what makes you think that it can’t happen? We don’t have just me to think about now.”

“Y/N,” he said soothingly, softly resting his hands on your upper arms.

“She’s a kid. A kid who wants to feel safe. If she sees you as someone that she can feel comfortable around she’s one of the most lovable human-manifested sources of cosmic energy that you’ll ever meet.”

You snorted. This man could convince you to jump off a bridge by making you laugh and you’d still somewhat trust him.

“Okay,” you sighed and let him envelop you in his arms.

“She has never hurt anyone that doesn’t want to hurt her. You might even have a little fun. Do you trust me?”

You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest giving him a soft smile as you nodded.

“Okay.”

Note: Okay I can not thank everyone enough for all the love that this is getting. It makes me so happy that people are enjoying it since I'm so freaking attached to Kobik in the Thunderbolts comics. I love you guys <3

Note #2: I know, what a bitch, right?

Tags: @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae

@flightsandfantasy

#Bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #Winter soldier #Bucky Barnes #Reader #Kobik #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Thunderbolts #bucky x pregnant!reader #dad!bucky #Winter soldier x reader #bucky x female reader #sambucky

108 notes · View notes

blind-alchemists · 3 years ago

Text

Meta-Analysis of the Rift Mage Specialization

I said in February I was going to do it, and it only took me seven months to follow through!

Anyway. Analyzing game-play elements for narratives purposes has become somewhat of a hobby of mine ever since I really got into GameLit. Then, I started "fangs" and felt that my fight scenes were boring, so I build ability trees reminiscent of DA:I's for my OCs. You know, as you do. During that process, though, the lack of banter acknowledging several choices struck me as odd. Especially regarding specializations. Especially when it comes to Solas'.

We’ll be taking a look at (in order)

1. Description

2. Codex Entry

3. Skills

a. in comparison to DA: II’s Primal & Force Mage

4. Specialization Dialogue with Solas

5. Conclusion

Disclaimer: I talk a lot (this post might have about 2.5k). And, I promise you, you'll be tired of seeing 'the Fade this' and 'the Veil that' at the end of it.

Description

“These mages draw upon the force of the Fade, either pulling matter from the Fade to attack or twisting the Veil itself into a weapon to stagger or crush their enemies.”

[source – DA wiki; bolding mine]

So, lore-wise, mages do ‘draw upon the Fade’. Sure. But do they ‘pull matter from the Fade’? Absolutely not.

Physical things and the Fade rarely mix well. Plus – this is mainly my theory – the way magic is utilized (the 'drawing upon the Fade part') requires it to pass through the Veil. Magic being a form of energy, and thus not physical, does not constitute to ‘pulling matter from the Fade’.

That's the first thing other mages (read: Dorian, Vivienne, possible the Inquisitor) should (or could) have referenced in banter/dialogue.

The rest of the sentence ('twisting the Veil into a weapon') is also highly interesting, since there is little known about the Veil. Nobody knows how it works. And, thus, nobody should be capable enough to manipulate it consistently enough to use it as a weapon. But considering it's Solas who gets this specialization - well. He knows the Veil well enough, don't you think? (Which is why I think Rift Mage should have been Solas' personal, individual specialization like Fenris' Lyrium Ghost, but I just really like personalized skill trees in general.)

However, having answered that question, connecting magic so closely to the very thing can be described as a “magical vibration that repels the Fade”, I'm curious about how it would work. Since, you know, mages are inevitably tied to the Fade. Wouldn't the Veil repel a try to manipulate it by a mage? Is using mana the same thing as drawing energy from the Fade? If so, it would be straight-up impossible to actually use such a method for any ordinary mage (read: not Solas). If mana can be used without the Fade, it would be possible, but is such a thing feasible? Can you switch between spells and Veil quickly enough without horrific consequences such as possibly tearing yourself apart?

Very interesting topic. Would love to go into it more, but at that point, I'd become subjective, so let's end it here.

To summarize: Rift mages do things (physically pulling things from the Fade plus using the Veil) normal mages don't do. There is also a chance, logically speaking, that no one else but Solas (or mage!Inquisitor) can accomplish such a feat without dying a horrific death.

Codex Entry

From "Power Bleeds: Harness the Flow." Your Trainer's words make one passage stand out:

There are no tomes dedicated to this manipulation. There has been no time for academics, only the practical—and not in a manner that mitigates risk. Power in a raw form has found an outlet, both visible and in ways that only we of arcane proclivity can sense. The risk is great.

An account:

From this page forward, these are the notes of Thelric. They began as the work of my mentor Julion, and I will continue in the research she began, as she cannot, because she is dead. The rift we were examining did not react well to her last investigation. We believed ourselves prepared for demonic manifestation. We were not prepared for how the energies we expected would be encountered. Well-versed in the forces that magic can produce, my senior was surprised by an alteration, a deviance. That which previously had to be coaxed is now a flood that must be staunched. The same amount in different intensity, quick to expose fault in the way it is accessed. She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none, and her form suffered the brunt. Tread carefully in studies of new matters, for I cannot unsee the end of her.

Scattered symbols and sketches follow.

[source – DA wiki; bolding mine]

Apparently DA:I has a thing for hiding the true horror in Codex Entries and off-hand comments.

Here, we learn one key fact: The school of Rift Magic is relatively new ('no tomes dedicated to this manipulation'). I think it's safe to assume the possibility - and thus research concerning it - emerged around the time the Breach appeared. So it's new, people have no idea what they're doing, but it somehow works. A little like the whole time magic thing, funnily. (That brings me back to a lot of questions I have about the Veil: Just how powerful is it? Just how deeply is it intervened with Thedas?)

Reading further, the entry seems to (only) stress how dangerous Rift Magic is. Who would have thought! No, really, it's a fair point to empaphize. I'm not certain the Trainer and his previous teacher (or anyone else but Solas) know what kind of role the Veil plays in this, and so of course experiments are going to get ugly. The Veil holds a much greater importance than the people of Thedas realize.

And, in a very similar vein: The people of Thedas don't know much about directly interacting with the Fade through, say, a rift, which poses another risk. The wiki entry establishes two things in particular that are relevant here: Using spells (in the Fade itself) has unpredictable results, and one can draw unprecedented power from it while sleeping.

The codex entry cited above proves that. A rift is a direct connection to the Fade, and thus unpredictable ('She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none') and that power is too much to handle ('her form suffered the brunt').

My theory is that, while a certain flunction is natural to the Fade, the Veil also plays a role here. Which I'm not sure. But it has one.

Personally, I wouldn't be sure the risks of a horrific death outweigh the benefits of power, but let's look more in depth at that!

Skills

Which brings me to the abilities themselves.

The first two you can choose from are Veilstrike and Stonefist. (Which I think should have had their names changed but, oh, well.)

Veilstrike: “You recreate your own fist from the essence of the Fade and smash nearby foes to the ground.” (Upgrades being Punched Down and Wounded Veil, but they don’t have anything interesting for this analysis. Note the names, though.)

Curious here is the 'recreate [...] from the essence of the Fade' part here. On first glance, it sounds like a rather ordinary spell, right? But it's not. That's just the 'hiding in plain sight for the first playthrough' aspect of Solas' character.

Mages do shape their spells with energy from the Fade (as far as my assumptions go). Maybe they can also recreate something. I'll give them that much. But the essence of the Fade - the inherit, unchanging nature of it - can't be manipulated by them. I think that's specifically a trait only Dreamers can have. (More evidence for my 'Rift Mage should have been Solas' personalized, individual specialization' hc!)

There is an argument to be made if this already constitutes for 'pulling matter from the Fade', but this isn't even the funkiest part yet.

Stonefist: “You summon a boulder from the Fade and smash it into your target, sending them flying.” (Upgrades being Shatterstone and Unblockable Force.)

'Summon a boulder from the Fade', you know, as in, bring physical matter from the Fade to the other side of the Veil. A thing that is pretty much unheard of. Remembers what happens to spirits when they pass violently through the Veil? There is an entire game dealing with that. (I mean, stones won't hopefully turn into demons, but my point is that bringing things through, usually, is not a wise idea.

Another thing someone could have commented on.

Passives: Restorative Veil, Encircling Veil, Smothering Veil, Twisting Veil.

Unfortunately, neither of these descriptions give me much, but they all have the ‘Veil’ component in their name, so that’s interesting.

Upon closer inspection, the Veil can function in a variety of ways: speeding up mana recovery, further weakening enemies, boosting your own damage. (Veilstrike being an example of a means of attack.)

Now, my question here would be: Do over mages notice changes in the Veil? Do they feel it shift and bend? If not, well, that's one thing. if they do, even subconsciously, I'd want banter. (I want a lot of banter, though. Just generally speaking.)

Pull of the Abyss: “You create a tiny rift that pulls enemies toward a central point.” (Upgrades being Shaken Veil and Devouring Veil.)

I can live with never hearing anything about everything else. Sure. But this one? This damned skill? You're telling me I read that the first time I played the game, nodded, and that was it?

'You can create a tiny rift-' I'm sorry, do you what now? After a good a couple of hours of learning just how bad rifts are?

And the upgrade names. Shaken Veil, Devouring Veil - is there anything this thing can't do, except for becoming more and more horrifying and giving me bad vibes ofr whatever DA4 will do with it?

Firestorm: “You summon flaming meteors, raining fire down upon enemies all over the area for the next several seconds. This ability consumes and is powered by focus.”

This one is ... honestly, I don't like it being here. It's an AOE skill, which does fit in with the rest, but it's fire and it seems rather randomly assigned compared to other focus abilities with a more personal note (Haste, Rampagne, Cloak of Shadows, Mark of the Rift).

Doesn't give a lot here to analyze, except that raining down flaming meteors is the level of (global) destruction I can see happening in the future if Solas isn't stopped. So. That's fun.

(It's the ultimate skill in the Fire/Ice tree in DA:II, or at least the ability there has the same name.)

DA: II Comparison

Nearing the end, I'll take a brief look at the Force Mage specialization from DA:II and the Primal base skill tree for mages. Both have some interesting similarities.

First, Primal.

Stonefist: “The mage hurls a stone projectile that strikes with massive force.”

It's only the name and the effect, honestly, but it is curious to see it in a skill tree that focuses exclusively on the elements earth and lightning. (Because Pride demons also use electricity ... yeah, yeah. I'm reading too much into this.)

Petrify: “The mage entombs an enemy in stone, leaving the foe temporarily unable to move. However, the target becomes more resistant to damage for the duration of the spell.”

This has nothing to do with Rift Mage, but in light of Trespasser, I'll just leave it here for your consideration. Petrifying people is neither new nor exclusive to Evanruis.

Now, onto Force Mage.

Fist of the Maker: “The mage slams enemies into the ground with incredible power, against which armor is no protection.”

The effect sounds like Stonefist (Primal) and Veilstrike.

Pull of the Abyss: “The mage conjures a maelstrom of energy that draws enemies to its center while slowing them to a crawl.”

This one is similar to the Rift Mage skill with the same name, so it might have served as an inspiration (or base).

Overall, though: nothing much to say here. Maybe I could talk more about Rift Mage being focused on crowd control, but that is probably for game-play balance. I could connect that to Solas' character and analyze every little thing to death. I'm not doing it, though.

Specialization Dialogue

Solas: You have begun practicing new magical forms. Interesting. You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade, likely using your mark as a catalyst. I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn that. Why did you choose such an esoteric area of study?

Inquisitor: (if chosen) I hoped that studying such magic would me help better understand the Fade.

Solas: While our fight affords little time for formal study, the wise can better themselves even in the midst of battle. Perhaps especially then. I hope your new studies serve you well.

[source]

Let’s go through this slowly.

‘You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade-’ Alright, we’ve talked about that. Makes sense he’d comment on it. ‘likely using your mark as a catalyst’ Sorry? The Inquisitor is doing what? I’m not saying it’s not possible, I’m just saying it might not be an overly smart idea to use the Anchor in that way. Because it’s attached to the Inquisitor’s arm. And because the Inquisitor knows what happens if it snaps out of control. So, purposefully doing something that might cause you agonizing pain? Mh. Yeah. No, thanks.

Also. The 'drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade' part makes me think that the Anchor does give the Inquisitor Dreamer-like abilities. Forcefully, and possibly difficult to control, and the Inquisitor might not be aware of it, but. That would be an interesting aspect to explore.

‘I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn that’. Well. Yeah. Mostly a sound response, except I’m not really sure it's true. Why does he say years? Because he didn’t go right to sleep after creating the Veil, or because he studied such methods theoretically beforehand? I doubt he refers to the time Inquisition spans, because it’s not that long, cannocially, (isn't it like ... a year? I forget what the devs said), but … I don’t know. It doesn't sit right with me. Solas never truly outright lies, so there is probably some merit in it.

‘Why did you choose such an esoteric area of study?’ That’s … an interesting way to ask. Sure, there is a very small group who has this specialized knowledge, but it feels a little like deflection.

The rest of the conversation doesn’t give much for me to analyze.

Conclusion

TL;DR: There should have been banter. Or Rift Mage should have been a personalized, individual specialization.

Pull of the Abyss is the funkiest skill in the entire game, from a meta-perspective, because tearing a hole into the Veil is the opposite of what the Inquisitor is trying to do.

There are also many more questions than answer to take away from this regarding the Veil and the Fade and how Solas manages not to blow his cover, but I believe there are theories about at least the two former points out there.

I thank you very much for bearing with me for this long!

#dragon age #dragon age meta #meta #rift mage #solas #analysis #rift mage specialization #skill tree #ability tree #analyzing game-play-elements for narrative purposes #long post #even for my standards

26 notes · View notes

samwisethewitch · 4 years ago

Text

Practicing Witchcraft in Secret

I love things that are traditionally “witchy.” I love dressing candles with herbs. I love setting things on fire. I love making poppets and charms. But not everyone is able to be so obvious in their craft. For various reasons, some witches choose to be secretive about their magical practice.

Why Would You Want to Keep It a Secret?

Historically, witches kept their practice a secret because it wasn’t safe to be open about their beliefs. In the late middle ages, the Catholic Church began to actively persecute witchcraft, herbal medicine, and folk spirituality with the publication of “witch hunting guides” like the Malleus Maleficarum. This witch hunting fervor would continue even after the Protestant Reformation, with some of the most famous witch hunts (such as the Salem trials) carried out by Protestants.

It is important to remember that the witch hunts were political at their heart and that very few of the people executed for witchcraft were what we would recognize today as witches. They were mostly women, poor folks, or members of ethnic or religious minorities. But even so, the danger of being accused of witchcraft and/or devil worship drove many medieval witches, herbalists, and pagans to hide their practice.

The United States experienced a modern witch hunt of sorts in the 1980s with the “Satanic Panic.” We still don’t entirely understand what caused this cultural phenomenon, but what we do know is that it resulted in widespread paranoia about devil worship. Anything that could be misconstrued as “satanic” was shunned or outright persecuted, from Dungeons & Dragons to heavy metal music to nature-based religions like Wicca — and, yes, witchcraft. People who had been comfortably open about their spirituality suddenly found themselves practicing behind closed doors. If you’re over 30, you may remember this. If you’re under 30, the Satanic Panic probably shaped how your parents view witchcraft and paganism, and they may still be grossly misinformed as a result.

Even today, a lot of witches choose to keep their practice a secret because it would be unsafe or uncomfortable to go public. Many witches have family members, friends, or coworkers who would be uncomfortable if they knew about their witchcraft, and may even choose to end the relationship because of it. Some witches live in culturally Christian areas where it might be harder for them to get jobs or make friends if they were openly self-identifying as a witch. Some of us live in places where an outdoor ritual could get the cops called on us, or have missionaries showing up to save our souls.

On the other hand, some witches just like privacy. You may feel like your spirituality is nobody’s business but yours, and for that reason you may prefer to do witchcraft in a way that is more subtle and secretive. Desire for privacy is a perfectly valid reason to stay “in the broom closet.”

There are also some magical traditions that require members to swear a vow of secrecy and to keep the group’s secrets. However, these traditions usually require an in-person initiation, so I won’t be discussing them here.

Inconspicuous Witchcraft

If you haven’t read my posts about magical journaling and kitchen magic, I highly recommend you check them out. Those are two forms of magic that are very easy to practice discretely.

No matter what your reason for keeping your practice a secret, here are a few tips for making magic without drawing attention.

Use scented candles. Candle magic is one of the easiest and most versatile forms of spellwork, and all it requires is a candle and your intention. Scented candles are perfect for undercover witches because, rather than adding herbs and oils, you can simply buy a scent that matches your intention. (For example, a vanilla candle is great for love, while a pumpkin spice scent will attract wealth.) Plus, they’re so commonplace that no one will think twice about seeing one in your bedroom or on your desk at work. If you’re a purist and want to make sure you’re using real plant materials, you can get all natural candles scented with essential oils — but lots of witches use artificial scents and get good results, so don’t feel like you have to go with the more expensive option.

Diffuse essential oils. Essential oils contain the concentrated essence of a plant, which makes them a must-have tool for witches. Essential oils are also extremely popular right now, both for holistic healing and for aromatherapy, so you definitely won’t attract any negative attention for using them. You can get a good essential oil diffuser for under $20 online. Some brands overcharge for their oils, but you can find good quality oils for under $10. When choosing an essential oil, look at the magical correspondences for the plant it is made from. You can diffuse oils to infuse your space with their energy, similar to the way you would use incense.

Enchant your perfume. You can choose a perfume to match your intention or make your own custom perfume by mixing essential oils in a carrier oil. Focus on your intention as you spray the perfume, letting it infuse your energy field with magic. You can also buy magical perfume blends from witch-owned businesses online or on Etsy.

Learn shufflemancy. “Shufflemancy” is a modern form of divination that is done by putting a playlist on shuffle — whatever song plays first contains an intuitive message for you, either in the lyrics or in how it makes you feel. You can find playlists specifically made for divination by Googling “shufflemancy playlist,” or you can make your own by compiling a playlist of songs from different genres that deal with different topics. Just be sure to keep it diverse — if your playlist only has love songs on it, you might not get very helpful messages if you have a question about your career.

Learn bibliomancy. This divination method is similar to shufflemancy, but much older. Bibliomancy is done by asking your question while holding a book, focusing on your question while connecting with the book’s energy, and then opening it to a random page. There is a long, long tradition within Christianity of doing this with the Bible — if you feel connected to a certain sacred text, you could use it for bibliomancy. You could also use a book of poetry, a novel, or even a dictionary. However, I think it’s important to use a book you feel a connection to, rather than something randomly grabbed off the shelf.

Use Pinterest and Spotify as manifestation tools. You may have heard of vision boards, a tool used to manifest something by creating a detailed collection of images that match your intention. Pinterest boards are already essentially virtual vision boards, and creating one with focused intent can be a spell by itself. Likewise, you can use Spotify playlists for manifestation. To do this, create a playlist of songs that match your intention (songs about money or love, for example) and listen to it while meditating on your desired outcome.

Choose your outfits with intention. You can pick clothes based on color correspondences (see this post for a guide to color magic), the material they are made from (a wool sweater vs. a cotton T-shirt), or some other symbolism. For example, if you want to feel empowered, you might wear leopard print to channel the energy of a fierce predator.

Enchant a piece of jewelry for a specific purpose. You can choose your jewelry based on the correspondence of the metal or gemstones it is made from, make your own piece, or use whatever you already have on hand. You can enchant this jewelry by passing it over the flame of a candle or through the vapor of an essential oil diffuser. State what purpose you want this charm to serve, either out loud or in your mind. Wear this jewelry whenever you need to tap into that energy, and make sure to cleanse it often.

Create magical art. If you want to manifest something, draw or paint a picture of it. You don’t have to be a skilled artist — what matters is that you are taking your mental image of what you want and bringing it into the physical world. Fold up the picture and keep it in your pillow, or in some other special place. Likewise, if you want to banish something, draw or paint a picture of it and then rip it into little pieces and throw it out. This ritual allows you to purge yourself of the negative emotions tied to the thing you are banishing.

Take a magical bath. We rarely have more privacy than when we’re in the tub. Taking a bath is already a ritual of sorts, and it’s easy to add magic. You can, of course, make magical bath salts by mixing essential oils into Epsom salt, but you can also create bath spells with household objects. For example, a bath with salt and vinegar will clear up nasty energy, while adding milk to your bath will attract love and abundance.

Practicing in secret does not have to mean a less deep or well-rounded practice. There are lots of magical acts that can be done subtly or kept private. The suggestions in this post are by no means exhaustive, and I hope they will give you some ideas for other ways to fill your life with undercover magic.

Resources:

“Introduction” from The Malleus Maleficarum at http://www.malleusmaleficarum.org

The Fat Feminist Witch podcast, “Episode 34 — Witches, Midwives, and Doulas”

“Most witches are women, because witch hunts were all about persecuting the powerless” by Bridget Marshall for The Conversation

New World Witchery podcast, “Episode 118 — The Satanic Panic”

509 notes · View notes

grayintogreen · 3 years ago

Note

What are some of your thoughts on nature vs nurture when it comes to the purple tiefling?

Now that I'm home from work and can think properly!!

Okay, let's look at what I'm gonna call the three "default traits" that all three of them have, because each of these traits manifests differently in all three of them, but just because Kingsley hasn't been shown enough, the analysis won't be in depth, because we'd just be getting into my personal headcanon for him. How the Mighty Nein are going to shape those traits in King remains to be seen, but we can already see they exist.

So the three key traits are passion, arrogance, and fast-talk.

In all three cases what they're passionate about is entirely built from their environment. Lucien is passionate about his ambitions and dreams of becoming something grander than his station. Molly is passionate about everything because circus folk are passionate people. Kingsley became INSTANTLY passionate about being a pirate, which tells me POINT-BLANK that the lingering reminder of Lucien's insane passion is just baby duck imprinting on the first thing that looks interesting. Molly and Kingsley don't immediately feel passionate towards some great goal or scheme because they're new souls who haven't had time to develop the all-consuming zeal Lucien's had going on between the Somnovem and whatever else occupied his mind before them, but the passion is there and without context, the other two are left to have it nurtured by whatever strikes their fancy in their immediate surroundings. The soul wants passion and they have the option to decide, immediately, what it is they're going to be passionate about. And they do!

The arrogance is, again, straight up pointed out by Kingsley- he remembered feeling regal and that was... mainly the trait he recalled most strongly. Once again, the arrogance manifests in different ways- Lucien has a clear superiority complex nurtured by his less than stellar childhood and how he's had to combat it; Molly's arrogance seems to be a... kinder interpretation of Lucien's superiority complex where the goal isn't so much "I'm superior to you" as it is "I have superior INSIGHT to you and it would serve you better and make you happier if you listen to me."; Kingsley's arrogance seems to be treated more playfully, and I think a lot of it is gonna end up "spoiled baby of the family" arrogance. The Nein wrapped Kingsley in love and immediately spoiled him and gave him room to bloom and made him feel special, but they're also the Nein and they'll gently humble him when they need to.

And finally- fast talk. Molly is a carnie. Molly bullshits like it's going out of style, because that's how he gets his coin and how he gets in and out of situations. Kingsley seems to talk quickly to throw people off- note that most of his reflexive fast talk is ALSO bullshit, but it comes from a different direction than Molly's. Kingsley bullshits like he absolutely knows everyone is going to call him on it, and he just thinks it's funny (see: the bit about wanting to be a pirate). Lucien, on the other hand, is just 100% theater all the time because he wants people to take him seriously as a credible and intelligent person. He's not talking fast and pretty for survival or for fun, he's doing it because he wants people to see him the way he thinks he ought to be seen.

And it's really easy to see how Molly and Kingsley's versions of those traits were nurtured. Had either of them been folded into horrible situations, you'd probably see traits that leaned closer to Lucien and skewed darker, but because Molly and Kingsley were both embraced immediately by a group who loved them during their formative duckling moments, those traits became positive, and if Lucien had had more positive formative experiences, those traits could be positive on his end too.

#critical role #lucien the nonagon #mollymauk tealeaf #kingsley tealeaf #my asks

49 notes · View notes

mrdrhenwardhykle · 3 years ago

Text

So, I had this thought process

I've been thinking a lot about that Adam Sandler movie "Pixels", and I think I just wrote a summarized alternate plot for it in my head and I need to write it down.

Okay;

Let's start by brainstorming on writing better and more relatable protagonists. For many, this movie is very hard to watch because it almost feels like a bunch of middle-aged guy's writing in nice-guy self inserts of themselves to feel better about whatever mid-life crisis they're having. And maybe this wouldn't be too bad if their characters were just a bit more than "middle aged creep who lives in his mom's basement is secretly a romantic warrior when put in the right scenario".

At least for me, it's very hard to relate to that kind of protagonist; given how that character is usually the most developed out of all the characters in this type movie. I often find that it's hard to relate to nerdy nice guy characters who often get away with the lack of likeable qualities just because "life should have treated them better". It comes off more as a pity-party more than anything, and their unmotivated dynamic with the "out of their league" love interest, who always comes off as nothing more than a trophy and\or act as an excuse to get the climax rolling in the last 20 minutes after getting captured by the big bad.

So then, how would I write an 80's nostalgia themed adventure movie? What, say, would you think would be a practical way to write the main cast in a way that audiences new and old can relate? Easy; If your intention is to give your entire audience a wave of nostalgia, but to still keep it relatable, then why not make your main cast kids? (credit to Black Nerd Comedy for that idea) I would probably suggest between the age of 12 and 16, and maybe with the occasional big brother\sister type characters and some of their friends . Kids often have a ton of freedom, a large imagination, basic priorities, and a lot less worries than adults. Just about anyone should be able to relate to that, since everybody either was or is a kid at some point of time. And I'm not saying that you can't write for\relate to older protagonists, but you don't want to alienate your audience, especially when making something that might catch the eye of a younger crowd.

Not to mention that ever since the 80's, kids have always been a major player by the impact of technology. For some reason though, the plot of Pixels doesn't really have to do with technology. There's guns and contraptions that are specifically made to destroy the pixels, but it doesn't really go much father than that with the tech. The plot more focuses on going on the "alien invasion" route (which I would think would be more 60's sci-fi based than 80's, which was more experimental in cosmic horror with its alien media)(not including Space Invaders. Shush. That does not count). Honestly, I think 80's nostalgia can be replaced with just about anything when it comes to a "shape-shifting aliens who mimic earthly cultures" plot. It's very basic, yet it doesn't really fit in with the theme of arcade games. It just comes off as a poor excuse for pandering to 80's kids, instead of using that element to bring up interesting concepts and world-exploring in this universe.

So I have two solutions for this, either;

A. Do not do a time jump, and keep the story in the 80's. Make it an alternate universe where different forms of consoles and computers are being developed. Maybe the adult characters are very unfamiliar with these changes, but allowing for the kid characters to have more of an advantage because that stuff would be more relevant to them. Because this was before a time where kids often thought about becoming programmers, it will also work as a disadvantage to the kids because they won't have an excuse to suddenly know how the opposing side works.

Or B. It takes place in a modern era, with Virtual reality, game consoles, and laptops, but it doesn't overly modernize itself with teens on phones, saying outdated things like "lemmie just take a selfie" saying "hashtag" out loud, or any junk like that (Because guess what? Teens and kids don't usually act like that). Maybe make the environment time neutral by making it a mix between the 2010's, 2000's, 1990's, and 1980's. I don't really think it's relevant enough to work in a present setting.

And lastly, let's talk about the big bad of the movie.

Really in Pixels, it's more of a self-struggle either projected upon others, or manifested into it's own being for the protagonist to succeed. There's not really a lot of leg space for anyone else to develop other than the main character (and perhaps something happens occasionally to the comedic reliefs\mascot characters). I imagine maybe this version doesn't have just one central character\plot, kind of like Stranger Things. However, unlike Stranger Things, I would also like a compelling and intriguing villain. Sadly, Pixels doesn't really have that; i has Donkey Kong, but he's nothing more than an alien catering to the protagonist's inner struggles (and nostalgia). There's nothing really more to DK other than that, so there's not a lot of difference between him and any of his previous minions.

And there's nothing really compelling about DK; because at least in canon, he's just a scared circus animal. There's not a lot of reasoning behind his actions other than to just invade. It's basic alien stuff like I said before, it can basically be replaced with some other theme than arcade games.

So what would be a compelling antagonist? Foils to the main group of characters (such as an older school bully, or maybe twisted programmers), create conflict, but if we're keeping the theme of attack of the machines and videogame characters, there has to be a bigger bad than that.

Oh! If only there was an already established villain-coded, tech-based, 80's icon with the ability to control almost all technology!

....

Trust me, I'm onto something!

Max Headroom was always presented as an egotistical talking head. He had multiple shows in the 1980's, as well as guest starred on multiple shows. Perhaps Max survives off of his viewers, and constantly strives to expand his audience. Max does not tend to care about other's well beings, and just wishes to use them as a way to gain publicity for his shows. Max also has a tendency to step over whoever he needs to to gain popularity, including his own film crew.

Max also has multiple canon abilities such as:

Being able to transfer to any screen (including arcade games)

See and interact with the people watching him

Control more than one screen

Interact with himself from one screen to another (multitask)

Turn on and off lights (and likely other outlets as well)

Manipulate the visuals of the screen that he's controlling

All of these abilities can be expanded and explored enough to set him up as a powerful and unpredictable villain.

I've also came up with a couple motives as well;

A. If this is in a modern era, Max could be suffering from a long hiatus since he hasn't been that active since the 80's; causing Max to seek as much attention to thrive off of as possible. To do this, Max hijacks as many outlets as possible to air his show. He might also use this as a way to repel audiences away from all other media; making it easier to turn to him for entertainment.

B. This takes place in an alternate universe where Max Headroom became more popular than it originally was. He starts taking over half of ads and television shows on air, getting more power hungry with each channel he takes. However, in his media take-over, ratings take a slight drop due to uninterested children who have turned to other outlets like toys, videogames, and arcades. This inspires Max to take a full takeover over everything electrical, causing a full invasion of all things electrical.

(I also forgot to mention that Max very likely hates children, and has canonly protested the execution of all of them)

Bam! And there you have it. A slightly more efficient plot for Pixels.

This was rotting in my head for a while and I wanted to let it out. Sorry for the ramble.

#pixels #plot ideas #movie ideas #1980s nostalgia #rambeling #80s nostalgia #ramble #max headroom #pixels inspired #goonies inspired #tropes #arcades #pixels 2015 #goonies #adam sandler #writing rant #rant

27 notes · View notes

uozlulu · 3 years ago

Text

Black Clover chapter 317 reaction and spoilers

Really excited for the anime to hopefully flesh out Yuno and Mimosa working together here. The anime team does such a great job of fleshing things out and adding to the story. They didn’t do as much of that in the final anime season but maybe when the anime returns, they’ll go back to adding onto what Tabata gave us in the manga.

It looks like not only has the Tree of Qliphoth been obliterated but that the castle and capital city might also have been obliterated because battles that started inside are now outside. Or I missed how things shifted from indoors to outdoors, which is highly possible. I’ve had a long few weeks lately.

Still loving Asta and Yuno’s new looks especially since Asta has continued on the path of gender bending fashionista.

I think that there’s something extremely tender in not only catching who was once a constant part of you at their lowest point (Patri’s perspective) and part of yourself catching you at your lowest point (Vangeance’s perspective). There’s something very tender about it and I like how Patri catching Vangeance also echos back to how they parted with a hug when Vangeance isn’t really known for touching people too. Patri appearing at this crucial moment is also such a great touch and I hope (even though the shoe is probably about to drop any second now. Things can’t really be this easy) that these two get to have more of a moment than this because I think it’d be an interesting reunion. They were a part of each other literally for like about ten years or so and now they’ve been apart for about a year give or take and there’s a lot to explore there even if it never becomes a direct focus.

alsdkfjaslkjflsak Langris goes, “He [Patri] just stole the best part.” lol

The Black Bulls (minus Asta) reuniting with Yami is exactly how I’d imagine it’d go except I don’t think Charmy’s shoved food in Yami’s mouth yet, but give her time.

We get a perspective on how various ally groups are doing. We see Sally’s group, which I was hoping we’d catch back up with to see what they’ve been up to, but I think that’s indicative of the shoe about to drop. Her group’s purpose is probably going to come at this upcoming crucial time, because again, I cannot believe things could resolve so easily.

alkdfjaldksj Ralph hugs Yuno and promises “We’ll rebuilding a peaceful Spade Kingdom!” and I don’t know what’s sending me more the fact Yuno’s doing that face he makes where his eyes become 0 shaped or Mimosa’s expression as she processes what she’s witnessing.

I think it’s interesting that a supreme devil from the second level appears to actually warn everyone by saying, “What are you people dawdling for? You really should get out of here, you know? Luciferio's manifestation is half-finished.” It’s interesting because you wouldn’t think that a devil would do such a thing (or maybe this one likes the idea of causing dread) or it could be indicative that the land of the devils is not a hive mind and there might be others like Liebe who have no real desire to inflict terror upon people. That I think could be truly interesting, if there might be some devils who would ally themselves with humans for whatever reason even if it’s just they want to take Luciferio out and this is their opportunity to do it.

Luciferio manifests as the most glorious shoe to ever drop. With a swipe of a finger he appears to cleave the remnants of the castle and send everyone within a certain radius to the ground (or perhaps these people were already dead and/or injured?)

Good luck, Asta and Liebe, who have to wait probably like 20 – 25 minutes to go into union mode again if they don’t unlock some new level of commitment.

Also I love how you can see kind of an almost Bleach influence in Luciferio’s form. I can’t wait to see what he might look like in color.

#liveblog #manga liveblog #black clover manga liveblog #black clover manga spoilers #i'm reading ch 317 #ymmv #black clover

14 notes · View notes

elriel-oblivion · 4 years ago

Text

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

Feedback's welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17 @a-happybird @thewayshedreamed @sleeping-and-books @thefangirlofhp @januarystears @courtofjurdan @ladylochan

#elain archeron #Azriel #elriel #elain x azriel #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses

81 notes · View notes