#no axe to the frozen sea. you know.

[dillydedalus]

book asks: 4, 10, 12, 14!

god looking through my list this year's reading has been kinda mid.

4. Did you discover any new authors that you love this year?

not really unfortunately... most authors i've really enjoyed/have read more than one book from this year are authors i've read previously.

there's a bunch i've read one work from and am interested in reading more based on that, e.g. kathryn harlan for the short story "fiddler fool pair" (all of fruiting bodies is pretty good but that's probably my favourite single thing i've read all year - sadly she doesn't have anything else out yet), antonio tabucchi (pereira maintains), emanuel litvinoff (the lost europeans), imre kertesz (fatelessness), seichi matsumoto (point zero). also i didn't looove my lesbian novel (liked it tho!) and have been wanting to read the ravicka series for years anyway but it did motivate me even more!

10. What was your favorite new release of the year?

i'm gonna say martyr! by kaveh akbar which made me cry on the u-bahn, always a plus. also really enjoyed this year's instalment in the singing hills novella cycle by nghi vo (the brides of high hill), which has Bad Vibes and fox demons.

12. Any books that disappointed you?

the familiar by leigh bardugo wastes a really cool concept (crypto-jewish ladino-based magic in post-reconquista spain) on an almost insultingly cliche plot. like there's a tournament i thought we were done with tournaments...

butter by asako yuzuki has been hyped up as this subversive feminist thriller but it's unfortunately extremely boring, repetitive and on-the-nose. did you know that if you put butter on your food it will taste better but social attitudes around food and eating are sexist so watch out!

hangman by maya binyam. very highly regarded but it just did absolutely nothing for me. i put it down at 60% bc it felt fucking interminable and i remember precisely nothing about it. so your mileage may vary.

14. What books do you want to finish before the year is over?

i haven't really been able to concentrate on/prioritise reading in december due to ~world events so i don't have any specific goals tbh... i'd like to finish everything i'm currently reading/have on loan from the library and read a good year by polis loizou bc it's about cypriot christmas superstitions so if i don't read it soon i'll have to wait another year - but that's under 200 pages so easily doable.

[doumadono]

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Hawks, viking!Natsuo, fem!reader, viking themes, smut (deflowering, p in v, blood)

Summary: as you reconcile with Touya, the dynamics between you two intensify, and with his departure alongside Shoto and Hawks, you find yourself grappling with the profound implications of Touya's gift, navigating a new chapter in your life

Word count: circa 8.1k

A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU • MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER

ACT IV - IN THE VEIL OF DARKNESS

Several days had slipped by.

Touya, consumed by the impending expedition, had become an elusive figure in your world. The anticipation of the journey ahead, alongside his youngest brother Shoto, Hawks, and a group of warriors, left little room for casual conversations. The Great Hall bore witness to his unwavering focus as he meticulously prepared, sharpening his weapons with an intensity that hinted at the challenges that lay ahead.

In the midst of the preparations, you frequently encountered Touya in the hall. His presence was undeniable, a brooding silhouette engrossed in the art of perfecting his sword and axe. The air around him crackled with an energy that mirrored the impending adventure.

Yet, despite the shared space and the fleeting glimpses, there was a palpable silence between you two. Whenever your paths crossed, he would promptly withdraw, leaving unspoken words hanging in the air.

In the meantime, Shoto, on the other hand, endeavored to draw nearer to you, under the impression that you harbored an interest in him. However, you gracefully declined each of his advances. Yet, in the face of his advances, you maintained a graceful poise, politely but firmly declining each of his attempts.

The evening was bathed in a cold, biting chill, the kind that seeped into the bones. As the sky painted itself in hues of indigo and ebony, you found yourself entrusted with a task that seemed simple on the surface but proved to be more challenging than expected.

The warriors' clothes, worn and stained from battles past, awaited a thorough cleansing. The Great Hall had called upon you to fetch water from the bay, two heavy pails that seemed determined to resist your every attempt to carry them. Wrapped in a thick fur that clung to your shoulders, you ventured into the frosty night, a lone figure navigating the shadows.

The bay was a silent expanse, its waters reflecting the pale light of the moon. The air was crisp, filled with the briny scent of the sea. With each step, the crunch of frost-coated grass beneath your boots echoed in the stillness of the night.

As you reached the bay, the water shimmered in the moonlight, a tranquil contrast to the arduous task ahead. The pails, when filled, felt like anchors, their weight digging into your weary arms. The wind whispered tales of distant lands, carrying with it a numbing cold that penetrated through layers of clothing.

The journey back to the Great Hall became a battle against the elements. The fur draped around your shoulders provided little solace against the biting wind, and the weight of the water-laden pails seemed to increase with every step. Your breath formed delicate clouds in the frigid air as you pressed forward, determination masking the discomfort.

The Great Hall loomed in the distance, its warm glow promising respite from the harsh elements. With each step, the anticipation of a crackling fire and the warmth of shelter spurred you on.

As you struggled with the weight of the water-filled pails, a smooth, male voice sliced through the cold. The offer of help hung in the air, a surprising interruption to your solitary struggle. Instinctively, you refused, a reflex born of independence and perhaps a hint of pride.

Yet, within moments, the burden was lifted from your frozen hands. Bewilderment etched across your face, you slowly raised your head to find the source of assistance. A shock coursed through you as your eyes met those of Touya, draped in a thick, black bear fur.

Silence lingered for a moment before you managed a nod, acknowledging his unspoken gesture of aid. The air crackled with unspoken tension as the pails now rested in Touya's capable hands. The night seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the exchange of words that hung in the chilly air.

You suddenly uttered, your voice measured, "I appreciate the help, but I had it under control."

A chuckle escaped Touya's lips, warm against the icy backdrop. "Sure looked like it," he remarked, a teasing glint in his turquise eyes. Touya's gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Sensing your reluctance, he ventured, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You nodded, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air. The memory of Touya witnessing to Shoto's unexpected kiss, cast a shadow over the present.

Touya, breaking the awkward silence, continued, "Listen, about that night…" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I should have said something. I should have…"

You interrupted, your voice a mix of reluctance and honesty, "It's in the past, Touya. Water under the bridge. And just so you know, I didn't want that. Your brother was drunk."

"I avoided talking to you," he confessed, his voice tinged with bitterness, "because I thought you were into Shoto. I thought he'd be better for you in so many ways than I could ever be, Y/N."

His words halted you in your tracks, and you turned to face him, your expression a mix of surprise and bitterness. "Why say it now?" you asked, your tone edged with a bitter curiosity.

Touya sighed. "Because I need you to know the truth. I need you to understand why I've been distant. My scars, my fucked-up character — I didn't think I was enough for you. I thought I was saving you from someone like me. Not to mention I brought you here against your will."

The truth hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, the silence between you was almost suffocating. Lowering your head, you took a deep breath before opening up to him, "Despite all that, Touya, you've always been kind to me. You've seemed to genuinely care, and I appreciate all the little gestures."

A hint of surprise flickered in Touya's eyes, and you continued, "Even tonight, when you helped me with the pails, it didn't go unnoticed. And about your scars, both physical and mental — I don't mind. They don't define you." You paused, reflecting on a specific memory, "Remember the night we kissed? I felt comfortable, Touya. Despite the circumstances, I felt a connection. Your scars never mattered to me then, and they don't now. And I have no idea why you like me. I'm nothing but a thrall."

Touya's frown deepened as the word "thrall" escaped your lips. "Don't say that," he hissed, a hint of intensity in his voice.

You chuckled bitterly, "But it's the truth. I'm just a slave to you and your family. After these months, I've gotten used to it, even if it's still hard to be polite at times when people treat me like a piece of meat."

The weight of your words hung in the air, and Touya gently placed the pails on the ground. Cupping your face in his gloved hands, the soft touch of thick leather against your reddened cheeks felt surprisingly comforting. "Don't ever call yourself that," he insisted, his eyes searching yours. "You're not just a thrall to me. You're… you."

You met his gaze, a mix of confusion and gratitude in your eyes.

Touya continued, his voice softer now, "Around you, I don't have to pretend. I don't have to be someone I never was, you know? Only with you, I feel like I can be myself fully."

His words lingered in the cold night air, a vulnerable admission that cut through the complexities of your situation. The touch of his gloved hands on your face, an unexpected tenderness, conveyed a depth of emotion that defied the roles you both found yourselves in.

In that moment, beneath the moonlit sky, Touya, for the first time, allowed himself to be seen, and you, in turn, found solace in the unexpected warmth of his touch.

Silence settled between you and Touya, a quiet understanding born from the unspoken exchange. You nodded, acknowledging his words, and without further discussion, you both resumed the journey back to the Great Hall.

The moon cast its gentle glow on the path ahead as you walked side by side. The rhythmic sound of boots on frost-coated ground echoed in the stillness.

As you approached the Great Hall, the door creaked open, and you both stepped inside, the warmth enveloping you like a familiar embrace. The pails were set down, and the flickering light of the hearth danced on the walls.

"Thanks, Touya. I appreciate the help," gratitude filled your voice as you thanked him for his assistance.

A small, genuine smile curved on his lips as he removed his gloves and fur. "It's no problem. Let me know where you want these," he gestured to the pails.

"The backroom," you replied, "Hilda and the other girls are there. We're doing laundry tonight."

With a nod, Touya complied, carrying the pails to the backroom.

As he entered, Hilda and the other thralls, caught off guard by the unexpected guest, momentarily stood up, bowing respectfully.

Touya, however, remained polite and offered his assistance. "Let me help you with that."

Hilda, blinking in surprise, tried to dissuade him. "Prince Touya, this is not a task befitting of your status. We can handle it."

Touya chuckled, a genuine warmth in his keen eyes. "I'm here to help. No need to treat me any differently. What can I do?"

Hilda reluctantly assigned him a task, and soon, the room buzzed with activity. Touya, alongside you and the other thralls, engaged in the laundry work. The atmosphere, once laden with tension, now hummed with a shared sense of purpose.

Conversations flowed naturally as you worked, the rhythmic splash of water and the occasional laughter blending into a harmonious melody. Touya, despite his royal status, interacted with the thralls on a personal level, breaking down the barriers that society had imposed.

As the laundry was washed and the room filled with the scent of soap and clean linen, Touya continued to lend a helping hand. Together with Hilda, he assisted in hanging the freshly laundered clothes, ensuring they would dry efficiently.

However, unbeknownst to all of you, a pair of sharp turquoise eyes observed the scene from a concealed vantage point. The eyes lingered on the group, absorbing the unexpected sight of Touya, a heir, engaging in the everyday tasks alongside thralls.

Hilda's gratitude was expressed through a gentle rub on Touya's shoulder. "Thank you, Touya."

He responded with a nod and a warm smile. "Anytime," he said sincerely. "You can always ask me for help if needed. I will do my best to assist."

The evening continued with the familiar sounds and scents of the kitchen. Pots clanged, and the aroma of simmering dishes wafted through the air as you busied yourself preparing supper for the earl Endeavor, his sons, and the departing warriors, including Hawks. The flickering flames in the hearth cast a warm glow over the room, but a sense of unease lingered within you.

Touya's presence had offered a respite from the isolation you often felt, but the worry about his well-being persisted. The failed attempt to gather information from Shoto had left you in the dark, and the unanswered questions weighed heavily on your mind.

Hilda, noticing your distraction, scolded you for bringing the young prince into the fold of daily duties like laundry. "You shouldn't involve the prince in such matters," she chided, her tone firm.

You listened to her admonishment, understanding the societal implications of your actions, yet you couldn't help but defend Touya. "He genuinely wanted to help. It's more than I can say for some others."

As the night unfolded, you focused on the task at hand, serving the prepared supper to the earl and his sons, hoping that the meal would provide a momentary respite from the weight of unanswered questions and the complexities of the world you found yourself entangled in.

Amidst the clatter of cutlery and the hum of conversation at the dinner table, your keen observational skills didn't fail to pick up on the subtle glances exchanged between Shoto and Hawks. They sat on opposite sides of the table, but a series of shared looks and silent nods hinted at some unspoken understanding. Though you couldn't quite discern the nature of their exchange, a feeling of unease settled within you.

Despite the undercurrent of mystery, your attention occasionally wavered as you found yourself caught in the interplay of glances with Touya. Whenever your eyes met his, a warmth spread across your cheeks, and a shy smile played on your lips. Touya's nods and the subtle touch of his hand when you refilled his cup with mead sent a flutter through your heart.

The atmosphere at the table, fraught with a mix of hidden agendas and unspoken emotions, contrasted sharply with the routine of serving and replenishing dishes.

The night unfolded in a flurry of activity. After the supper, you and the other thralls diligently cleaned the main chamber, ensuring every dish and piece of cutlery sparkled in the soft glow of candlelight. The earl Endeavor and his sons retired for the night, and as the main chamber returned to a state of quiet, the rhythmic sound of washing dishes and the occasional hum of conversation among the thralls echoed through the longhouse.

After the tasks were complete, and the main chamber restored to its usual order, you took a quick bath to wash away the remnants of the day. As you made your way back to your shared room, wrapped in a simple linen robe, you unexpectedly crossed paths with Touya in the hallway.

"Touya," you greeted him, a mixture of surprise on your face as you tightened the robe around your figure. "You startled me!"

He flashed a confident smile. "Hey Y/N. I was hoping I'd run into you before I leave tomorrow morning."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on your lips. "And what brings you seeking my company, my lord?"

"Well, it gets lonely in those grand chambers," he mused.

You couldn't help but laugh at his audacity. "Are you implying I'm your solution to loneliness, my lord?"

Touya's grin widened, and he nodded. "I guess so, yes. Plus, I can't resist the chance to spend more time with someone as captivating as you."

You rolled your eyes, but a playful glint danced in them. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

"Only with the ones who matter."

After a moment of consideration, you nodded. "Alright. I'll stay with you tonight."

The warmth of Touya's chamber enveloped you as soon as you stepped in alongside him, the crackling fire from a fireplace casting a gentle glow.

You tightened the robe around you, feeling a sense of comfort and vulnerability in this shared space. The flickering shadows played on the walls, creating a dance of light and shadow.

With a graceful movement, Touya began to unbutton his white shirt. The flickering firelight highlighted the contours of his physique as he revealed the toned lines beneath the fabric. He folded the shirt with a practiced ease and placed it gently on a nearby chair, the white contrasting with the rich hues of the room.

As he laid on bed, Touya's eyes met yours, a silent invitation lingering in the air. He reached out, pulling you closer, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his scarred chest. The touch was both gentle and reassuring, a gesture that spoke of a shared vulnerability beneath the layers of status and circumstance.

You nestled against Touya, resting your head on his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall as he breathed.

As the quiet moments passed, the inevitable topic of Touya's departure hung in the air like a lingering shadow. You couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that settled in your chest, and the words weighed heavily on your tongue. "Touya," you began, your voice soft but filled with genuine concern, "I can't help but worry about what might happen when you leave. Shoto… He's unpredictable, and I'm afraid he might try to hurt you."

Touya's expression softened, and he let out a gentle chuckle. "You're worried about me, huh?" he said, his eyes meeting yours as he tilted your head by catching your face between his thumb and forefinger.

You nodded, the worry etched on your face. "I've seen the tension between you two, and with the things that have happened, I can't help but be concerned."

Touya's hand found yours, his touch reassuring. "Listen, Y/N," he said, his tone gentle, "I appreciate your concern, but you don't need to worry about me. Shoto and I have our differences, yes, but I can handle myself. Plus, I've got a knack for avoiding trouble." A small smile played on his lips as he continued, "And here you are, worried about your own captor, how amusing."

You blinked, a mix of surprise and confusion in your eyes. "I just don't want anything bad to happen," you admitted. "Despite everything, you've been kind to me, and I don't want to see you hurt. Is it so hard to understand?"

"I appreciate that, I really do," he said. "But you don't need to worry about me. Focus on yourself, okay? Things will work out, and I'll find a way to handle Shoto. Just take care of yourself in the meantime when I'm gone."

Then, with a gentle lean, Touya bridged the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. The world outside faded away as the warmth of the moment enveloped you. His lips moved with a tenderness against yours.

As the kiss lingered, it held the promise of both solace and anticipation, a silent affirmation that in the midst of uncertainties, there existed moments of connection that could be cherished.

Touya's kiss was intense, a fervent embrace that drew you closer, your bodies molding together seamlessly. A pleasant buzz filled his mind as your lips danced with his, and he felt the alluring weight of your leg draped over his muscular thigh. With a smooth motion, his hand descended, fingers curving to grip the soft flesh of your exposed thighs.

In response, your nimble fingers wove through his white hair, eliciting a soft groan from Touya. A sudden, sharp tug sent a gasp escaping his lips.

Impatience guided his hands as he skillfully unraveled your robe, allowing it to slide off your shoulders, revealing the supple skin beneath. The sight before him left him breathless. "Y/N," he whispered, the words barely parting his lips, "You're so beautiful."

Mounting him fully with newfound confidence, you recognized there was no reason for shame. As the realization washed over you, you deliberately shed your robe, letting it fall to the side, baring your body completely to his keen gaze. Your lips were gently caught between your teeth as his calloused hands found their place on your hips, a slow ascent following the contours of your waist, finally reaching your breasts. His touch was tender, cupping them lightly.

You captured Touya's bottom lip between your teeth, the kiss deepening as you almost drew blood. The resulting pain elicited a loud moan from him, prompting him to assert control - he swiftly shifted, flipping you onto your back, pinning you to the furs beneath with the weight of his hips and his hands firmly securing yours above your head.

A soft grunt escaped you, followed by a whimper that sent a jolt of desire straight to his cock; it was alreadyt tenting in his dark pants.

Touya's mouth found its way to your neck, where he suckled with a fervor that left an angry mark, destined to be a bruise by tomorrow. Your arms instinctively curled around his neck, and you gasped softly, welcoming the pleasant weight of his dominance and the enveloping warmth that surrounded you in the charged intimacy of the moment.

Touya emitted a gruff sound; the truth was, he hadn't been with a woman in years, and the enticing warmth of your body, coupled with your deference and moans, was stirring a primal desire within him. With practiced skill, he unbuttoned his pants with one hand, letting them slide down his muscular thighs. In a swift motion, he kicked them off, unveiling his well-endowed shaft that. A gasp escaped him as the room's air enveloped his throbbing member, causing it to pulsate involuntarily.

Soft, breathy sounds emanated from your lips now as Dabi moved his hips against yours, his throbbing cock damp and solid against the gentle skin of your hip. You responded by wrapping your legs around his firm waist, pressing against him in a mutual, fervent embrace.

"Y/N," Touya murmured, his voice a low, lustful cadence. He descended down your body, nestling his face between the soft contours of your breasts. Warm breath, coming in soft pants, caressed your skin, sending shivers through you. His touch worked its magic; your nipples hardened under his skillful exploration. Touya took one into his mouth, suckling softly, the flat of his tongue tracing a tantalizing pattern again and again.

Firmly gripping the sides of his head, you filled his ears with the symphony of moans, the sounds now unceasing. Your movements became more fervent, heels digging into his firm ass as you squirmed against him.

Touya emitted a gruff, almost winded grunt, his desire evident. His fingers ventured southward, sliding between your thighs.

You sighed as his coarsed fingers touched your soft folds, finding them heated and slick, just for him.

Whispering soft words in a language Touya couldn't comprehend, you gently tugged on his hair, bringing him closer to seal your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. The exchange of tongues was a dance, each movement syncing seamlessly. Touya, guided by your touch, positioned himself at your entrance, teasingly rubbing his cock along your wet folds.

A whimper escaped you, only to be stifled by Touya's loose hair that fell to the side, playfully tickling your face and finding its way into your mouth, causing laughter to bubble between you. As he rested his weight on your body, Touya applied gentle pressure to the front of your neck with his free hand, a delicate squeeze accompanying the sensation. Simultaneously, he drove his rigid cock inside your willing body.

"Touya!" A cry of his name escaped your lips as you endeavored to relax, attempting to minimize the inevitable discomfort of the initial contact. Despite your efforts, the pain was unmistakable, casting a shadow over the shared intensity of the moment.

Lowering his head, Touya pressed a tender kiss to your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. His voice, laced with reassurance, urged you to take a deep breath.

Your eyes widened, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Touya fully immersed himself within you. Your hands instinctively fisted in the furs around your head as you arched your back.

Touya, grunting at the sensation of tightness enveloping his cock, propped himself up over your form, holding still for a brief moment. As your gaze met his scarred face, lips parted and breath quickened, you smiled softly.

Touya's hand remained at your throat as he initiated a deliberate rhythm, pulling almost entirely away before plunging back in. With each of his controlled thrusts, a soft, breathy noise escaped you, spurring him on. His focus shifted to your flushed cheeks and pert breasts, rising and falling in tandem with your breath. Droplets of sweat traced paths between his shoulder blades and dotted his forehead, a single bead descending from the tip of his nose to splash onto your belly, prompting a gasp from you.

He paused in his movements, fully immersed within your wetness, savoring the intimate stillness that enveloped both of you.

Your hands sought purchase, gripping his thighs and tracing your nails over the taut muscles.

Touya, attuned to your desires, comprehended the silent cue. With a gentle release, he withdrew his hand from your throat and enveloped you in the shelter of his powerful arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

A soft whine escaped you at the subtle shift in angle, and as your moan caressed his ear, Touya withdrew, only to return with an impactful force, spreading your pussy wide with his cock. The intensity of the thrust nearly compelled a scream from you, your fingers trailing up his sweat-slicked, scarred back in response.

Touya emitted a low groan as he felt the clenching warmth of your pussy around him. Pulling back, he thrust into you with unrestrained force, over and over again. His teeth found the red mark he had imprinted earlier on the junction of your neck and shoulder, and his body moved with a raw intensity against yours. Your moans, a symphony of passion, intensified the desire pooling hotly in his belly. "Fuck, Y/N," Touya gasped loudly though gritted teeth.

One of your petite hands clutched his thigh, the fingernails like slivers of hot metal leaving an impression on his skin. The other hand wove into his long, white hair, a firm grip offering a delightful blend of sweet pain to complement the intense pleasure of your velvety, gummy walls embracing his pulsating cock. The sounds of his hips colliding with the backs of your pale thighs, his grunts and groans, and the whimpers escaping your lips were the only sounds to fill the chamber, creating a sensual symphony that left Touya buzzing from head to toe.

The fusion of your arousal and bloo, the lingering traces of your virginity, a gift offered to Touya, had become so intense that it now adorned the insides of your thighs and the front of his abdomen, covering the vertical strip of white hair running from his belly button to his groin in slickness. The wet, squelching noises echoed softly as he withdrew and thrust forcefully back into you.

Touya seized your tender lips with his own, engaging in a fervent kiss. His teeth grazed your tongue and the corners of your mouth. Another sharp pull on his white strands forced his mouth from yours, and as you gazed into his turquoise eyes, you let out a tiny gasp. "T-Touya…"

The vice-like grip of your soft walls around his dick prompted a strangled moan to escape Touya, his eyes briefly shutting in response. When they reopened, your back had arched, pressing your breasts firmly against his scarred chest. Your head tossed back, and the hold you had on his hair had loosened. A moment of suspended breath passed before it was replaced by a whimper.

Touya emitted a drawn-out, deep moan, his brow furrowing as you fluttered around his rigid shaft, coating it in a palpable surge of wetness mingled with traces of blood. The sensation sent shivers down his spine, and he sensed himself edging closer to the brink of his own release.

"Touya," you breathed, touching his cheek softly.

He sighed, surrendering to the sensation as he kept moving, albeit at a slower pace.

"Touya," you asserted, gripping his throat firmly, eliciting a raspy breath from him.

His climax engulfed him hard, prompting a whine akin to a wounded animal as he thrust into you with every ounce of intensity, releasing his essence into your yielding pussy.

Your hand descended to press against his chest, and he rode the waves of pleasure, his head dropping forward, lost in the overwhelming sensations, his mind devoid of coherent thoughts. "Fuck," he snorted. "Oh, fucking shit."

Your hurried breaths slowly brought him back to the present, grounding his focus. Tenderly, he draped his form over yours, planting wet kisses along the side of your face, his flaccid cock still nestled inside your folds. As your legs eased down to the bed, your fingers traced gentle patterns across the skin of Touya's muscular back.

Once your breathing had steadied, and the sheen of sweat on Dabi's body had mostly evaporated, he rolled off you onto his side.

You reached up, pushing a few stray strands of mussed hair away from Touya's face, tucking into his arms afterwards.

Touya cradled you, his arms providing a secure embrace, and he sighed, the lure of sleep tugging at the edges of his awareness. Pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head, he murmured, "I didn't hurt you, right?"

You nestled closer, content, and mumbled, "I'm more than good, Touya."

Touya held you close to his chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around you, and he gently rubbed your shoulders. "Thank you," he said, the words soft and sincere.

With a slight frown, you looked up at him. "Why are you thanking me?" you asked, curiosity etched in your gaze.

Touya met your eyes and explained, "You're the first woman I've been with in many years, and I want you to know it wasn't just about… you know, getting laid. It just felt like the right thing to do, to be that intimately close with you."

You fell quiet for a while, tracing patterns on his chest and abdomen with your fingertips. Eventually, you responded, your voice soft and sweet, "Did I let you down with how inexperienced I am?"

Touya's head shook, the gentle curve of a smile on his lips. "No, not at all. It was perfect. You were perfect. I appreciate you letting me claim you as mine."

You blinked, propping yourself up on his chest, curiosity in your eyes. "What does it mean, being yours?"

Touya met your gaze and explained while wrapping a strand of your hair around his forefinger, "It means I want you to be my woman, but only if you reciprocate my feelings."

A blush crept across your cheeks as you reevaluated everything that had transpired between the two of you — from the day he took you captive after the tragic events in your village to bringing you to his settlement and making you a thrall. Despite the lingering anger and sorrow in your soul, you couldn't deny the undeniable spark in your heart whenever you were close to him, whenever his eyes met yours.

After careful contemplation, you silently agreed, the unspoken understanding settling between you two as you gave him a slight nod.

Touya, his grip gentle yet firm, pulled you to him by your chin, sealing the moment with a kiss on your lips. "You're a free woman from now on."

As he released you, you sat up, eyes glistening with a mixture of emotions. With a quiver in your voice, you asked him, "What does this mean?"

He met your gaze, sincerity in his eyes, and replied, "It means you're free, no longer bound as a thrall. You have your own choices now, including whether you want to stay in Skjaldvargr or not."

A chill coursed through your veins as Touya's words sank in — unfamiliar and unsettling, the concept of freedom felt surreal. Blinking in disbelief, you grappled with the weight of this unexpected liberation. It was as if a door to an uncertain future had swung wide open, leaving you standing at the threshold, torn between the familiarity of captivity and the uncharted territory of choice.

Despite the cold tendrils of fear that coiled within you, an overwhelming wave of gratitude and an odd sense of vulnerability washed over. You hesitated for a moment, then, as if propelled by the uncertainty of newfound freedom, you hugged yourself to Touya. Tears spilled into the crook of his neck, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and an acknowledgment of the tangled emotions within.

Amidst your tears, you confessed, "I want to stay. I don't really have anywhere to go, and, strangely, I've grown fond of Skjaldvargr." The admission carried the weight of your complicated journey, a fusion of sorrow, attachment, and an unexpected connection with the people and places you had come to know.

Touya nodded affirmatively. "Well then, you'll stay here. My chambers are now yours, and you are an outright member of the settlement and my woman," he declared.

Shivers of worry coursed through you as you voiced your concerns about how Touya's father and brothers might react to the unconventional decision of freeing a thrall and choosing to be with her. Your apprehension deepened as you acknowledged your own perceived lack of talents, admitting, "I'm just a mere woman, and I don't really have many skills… I can sing and play a harp, but…"

Touya, smiling softly, gently pulled you close and silenced your self-deprecating words with a kiss. As he broke the kiss, he whispered, "Don't worry about that. I'll make it work." His reassurance lingered in the air, a promise that he intended to navigate the challenges ahead and carve a path for the two of you, regardless of the judgments and expectations that might come from his family. Touya, holding you close, looked into your eyes with a tender gaze. "I see way past the talents and appearance," he admitted softly. "What captivated me was your unaware gentleness, the way you carry yourself, and the kindness that emanates from you. That's what truly matters to me."

"Thank you, Touya Endeavorson," you whispered, kissing his jawline.

He chuckled softly, the sound a soothing lullaby, and soon, the gentle rhythm of sleep claimed both of you.

The next day, as the sun hung very low on the horizon, the warriors gathered for the final meeting with the earl.

Dabi, reluctantly torn from your peaceful slumber, pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder before gently tucking you into thick furs. He left the chamber, heading to meet his father.

In the meeting room, Shoto was already present, exchanging a cold smile with his eldest brother. Hawks and the other warriors formed a solemn assembly, awaiting the earl's words.

Natsuo stood nearby, eager to hear what their father had to say and to bid farewell to his brothers.

Endeavor's stern voice echoed through the hall as he issued orders to his sons. "Shoto, Touya, you depart soon. Ensure everything is in order for the journey. You have no time to waste."

Shoto, attempting to be the epitome of politeness, spoke up. "Father, may I suggest we also check the provisions and inspect the gear to ensure nothing is overlooked for the journey?"

Endeavor's gaze shifted to Shoto, a brief nod acknowledging the suggestion. "Very well, Shoto. Attend to the provisions and gear. Dabi, focus on the horses and make sure they are in prime condition. You leave nothing to chance."

Dabi, ever the stoic one, simply nodded in acknowledgment, the weight of his father's expectations settling on his shoulders.

The preparations for the journey became a meticulous dance under Endeavor's watchful eye, each son fulfilling their assigned tasks with a sense of duty ingrained in them by years of training and discipline.

Dabi meticulously checked each horse, ensuring they were in optimal health and prepared for the upcoming journey.

As he worked, Natsuo approached him, a note of concern in his voice. "Be careful, Touya," Natsuo said, his eyes reflecting worry.

Dabi, giving his brother a brief nod, adjusted the long, thick, black fur draping over his shoulders. "I'll. And you, keep your eyes open and make sure everyone is safe and nothing bad happens, understood?"

Natsuo chuckled at the protective tone of his elder brother. "Understood, Touya. Just don't go doing anything reckless."

Dabi flashed a small smirk, a mixture of confidence and assurance. "Reckless? Me? Never." Despite the banter, a hint of camaraderie lingered in their exchange, a silent understanding between the brothers in the face of the impending challenges.

Natsuo ruffled Dabi's stallion's mane, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I hope father knows what he is doing, sending you to a land we've never been to before."

Dabi, continuing to attend to the horses, looked up at his brother. "Apparently, he does. The journey doesn't seem as tough as it sounds," he assured.

As Dabi continued with the preparations for the journey, he turned to Natsuo and asked, "Take good care of Y/N while we're away, will you?"

Natsuo, puzzled by the mention of a name of their thrall, furrowed his brows. "Y/N? Why?"

Dabi smirked and explained, "I freed her. She's my woman now."

Natsuo blinked, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face. He smirked smugly, poking his older brother's shoulder. "Well, well, has my brother fallen in love with a woman!?" The revelation caught him off guard, but Natsuo couldn't resist teasing his brother about his newfound connection.

Dabi, his usually stoic expression now tinged with a mix of vulnerability and anger, confirmed, "Yes, Natsuo. I fell in love with her. Any problem with that?"

Natsuo shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face. "No problem, Touya. I'll protect her. You don't have to worry about that. Focus on the trip, and I'll handle things here on your behalf."

A sense of gratitude flickered in Dabi's eyes as he nodded, appreciating the support and understanding from his younger brother.

Touya gracefully mounted his stallion, and Shoto did the same.

As they prepared to depart, Endeavor emerged from the Great Hall. "Bring back as much as you can, and scout around," he ordered, his gaze piercing.

Shoto, ever the dutiful son, assured his father sweetly, "Everything you said will be done, my lord."

They departed in unison, the rhythmic sound of hooves echoing through the settlement.

The horses moved one by one, a procession of warriors embarking on a mission of importance. As they rode, the figures of warriors and their leaders gradually vanished on the horizon, blending with the imposing mountains in the distance.

Dabi, throwing a final glance back at the settlement, silently offered a prayer to their gods for success on the mission. The vast expanse swallowed them, leaving behind the familiar and venturing into the unknown.

You awoke alone in Touya's bed, the furs enveloping you in a warm embrace. Stretching languidly, you shifted, and a blush tinged your cheeks as you became aware of the remnants of wetness and slick covering your inner thighs. With a mix of shyness and self-consciousness, you decided to freshen up.

After cleaning yourself and running a brush through your hair, you prepared for the day. As a free woman with newfound autonomy, uncertainty lingered in your choices. Unsure of what to do, you settled on paying a visit to Hilda.

On your way to your friend, you were unexpectedly intercepted by the earl himself. Endeavor, a commanding presence, stopped you in your tracks. "Come with me, Y/N," he requested, his tone leaving little room for refusal. "I wish to talk to you."

Curiosity and a hint of apprehension danced in your eyes as you followed the earl, the path veering away from your original destination, leaving you to wonder what discussions awaited in the halls of the settlement's leader.

Endeavor, seated on his imposing throne, gestured for you to take a seat on the smaller throne positioned on his left side. Hesitantly, you complied with his request.

Endeavor's stern expression softened slightly as he began to speak. "Touya informed me of what transpired," he stated, and a blush instantly covered your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty coursing through you.

The earl continued, his gaze unwavering. "He freed you. I do not condone such actions, especially considering your status. You are not of royal blood, but as long as you make my son happy, I am inclined to respect that."

You nodded, a mixture of relief and nervousness settling within you. "I assure you, earl Endeavor, my intentions are pure. I mean no harm."

Endeavor, though maintaining his stern demeanor, seemed to consider your words. "Very well," Endeavor declared after a moment. "In such circumstances, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask the thralls, Hilda, or even me or Natsuo. If you prove your worth, maybe I'll look at you more kindly."

You promised not to be a bother but a valuable asset for the settlement. As the conversation progressed, you gathered the courage to pose a more personal question. "My lord, would you have anything against me fully embracing the worship of your gods?"

Endeavor's initial shock was evident, but after a moment, he smiled at you, nodding in acknowledgment. The acceptance of your desire to align with their religious practices hinted at a potential bridge between your newfound freedom and the intricate dynamics of the settlement. The unspoken understanding between you and the earl carried the potential for a more harmonious coexistence, provided you could prove your dedication and commitment to the settlement's values.

"You wish to step away from your Christian God and embrace our gods?" he asked.

In response, you nodded, meeting his gaze with determination. "Yes, earl Endeavor. I want to embrace the beliefs of this settlement, to become part of the community and honor the gods that are revered here. The day my village was raided, it felt as though my God had abandoned me," you expressed, the weight of that moment etched in the somber tone of your words.

The earl, after a moment of contemplation, surprised you with a geniune smile. He nodded, a gesture of acknowledgment. "Very well. If it brings you closer to this community and my son, then I will respect your choice. The gods, after all, have their own ways." Endeavor considered your newfound interest in embracing the local beliefs and, after a moment, spoke decisively, "I will take you to our seer. She will impart the knowledge you seek. Eventually, you may find yourself visiting Uppsala, a vital religious, economic, and political center in Svealand."

Your eyes lit up with interest at the prospect, and you nodded eagerly, fully intrigued by the idea of exploring such a significant place. Curiosity guiding your words, you asked, "Will I be able to go there once Touya returns?"

Endeavor, after a brief pause, agreed, "Yes, once Touya is back, we can arrange for your visit to Uppsala. It will be an enlightening experience for you."

You nodded at Endeavor, absorbing the significance of the upcoming journey into the settlement's beliefs and practices.

As you settled into the smaller throne, Endeavor looked up at you, a question lingering in his eyes. "Do you know where you're sitting?" he asked.

You replied hesitantly, "Obviously, it's a throne, my lord."

He chuckled, confirming your observation. "Indeed, it is a throne, but it holds a particular importance. This is reserved for the earl's wife, the queen of the settlement."

Your gaze shifted, and you asked cautiously, "Where is your wife then, my lord?"

Endeavor's expression softened, carrying a weight of sorrow. "She passed away after giving birth to Shoto, my youngest son."

You remained silent, acknowledging the gravity of the loss. "I'm so sorry for your family's loss," you expressed.

Endeavor waved his hand dismissively, as if to sweep away the weight of the past. "This is what the gods had prepared for her," he said, a touch of acceptance in his voice. "I miss her wisdom every day." He then looked at you, his gaze steady. "I let you sit here because, eventually, this place will belong to you."

You blinked, shocked by the unexpected revelation. "To me?" you asked, seeking more details. "I-I don't understand, my lord…"

Endeavor nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Yes." Endeavor leaned in, his voice lowered as he shared a revelation with you. "Since you are my eldest son's woman, it is likely that Touya will want to marry you one day." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "And I have already chosen Touya as my legitimate heir. Once I am gone, he will take over the throne."

You were shocked by the revelation, and you whispered in response, "But from what I observed, I was fully convinced you would want Shoto to inherit the throne, my lord…"

Endeavor sighed, a mixture of regret and remorse in his eyes. He began to share the mistakes of his past, confessing to an attempt on Touya's life when he was a child, influenced by the wrong people. The consequence was the multitude of scars that adorned Touya's body, a lasting mark from a hot, boiling tar. "After all these years," Endeavor continued, "and witnessing Touya's growth, even though it was much harder for him due to his past and vulnerabilities, I have come to the conclusion that there is no other candidate for the throne than my eldest son. Shoto is full of passion, yes, but he is also very unsorted, having too many ideas and never fully indulging in anything but quick, meaningless affairs." The earl's admission offered a glimpse into the complexities of his decisions, revealing the burdens of the past and the intricate dynamics within the royal family.

As the revelation unfolded, a mix of emotions churned within you. The realization that Touya would be as shocked as you, having believed all along that his father saw him merely as a warrior, added a layer of complexity to the unfolding dynamics within the royal family.

You turned to Endeavor, the weight of the situation settling in, and expressed, "Whatever you decide, I will condone, my lord."

Endeavor's response was a smile, a gesture that softened his stern features. His rough, huge hand reached out, gently caressing your blushed cheek. "I think I'm starting to understand what Touya sees in you," he admitted. "You remind me a lot of my wife. You're very kind, and you seem to carry a wisdom I might not comprehend." Endeavor's gaze held a mixture of seriousness and earnestness as he spoke, "I ask you to be good to Touya. He deserves the world I couldn't provide him with."

The horses moved steadily through the wilderness, Dabi and Shoto riding side by side. The rhythmic sound of hooves on the earth beneath echoed in the quiet expanse around them. Hawks and the other warriors trailed at a distance, granting the brothers a semblance of privacy.

Shoto, breaking the silence, turned to his older brother. "So, how is it to possess a thrall?" he inquired, a curious glint in his mismatched eyes.

Dabi, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, remained silent.

The younger brother, ever probing, continued with a wry tone, "Is she better than the whore you laid with before?"

Dabi's jaw clenched, and for a moment, he maintained his stoic composure. However, the barb proved to be too much, and he finally snapped back at Shoto, his tone sharp and cold, "Watch your tongue, Shoto. She's not just a possession, and you will treat her with respect." The intensity in his words mirrored the protective edge that had developed over the time he spent with you.

Shoto chuckled dismissively. "Why would I respect a thrall? She's nothing but our slave."

"I freed her," Touya retorted sharply, his voice carrying a harsh edge. "So she's not your slave anymore."

Shoto, not entirely convinced by his brother's words, chuckled again. However, when he caught the stern gaze from Touya, he groaned in frustration, relenting but not without adding a snarky, awfully bad comment under his breath. "Oh, brother, you've fallen so low that you bedded a thrall and freed her just because she was good in bed and made doe-eyes at you. Pathetic."

Touya, his patience wearing thin, warned Shoto sharply, "Don't say anything more about Y/N. I won't hesitate to hurt you, Shoto."

Shoto, unfazed and ever mocking, responded with a smirk, "Hurt me? Come on, Touya, you're just defending your little pet. I didn't know you could get so attached to a mere thrall."

Touya's jaw clenched, his restraint visibly tested by his younger brother's taunts.

Their exchange was abruptly interrupted by a loud howling in the distance, a haunting sound that echoed through the wilderness. The mournful cry carried an eerie resonance, adding an ominous atmosphere to the already tense scene between the brothers. As the sun began its descent down the horizon, casting long shadows and painting the sky with hues of orange and red, the howling persisted.

"Wolves," Touya said carefully, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "We should set up camp here. It's too risky to ride further."

Shoto, involuntarily agreeing with Touya, nodded in acknowledgment.

As the camp took shape, Touya decided to rest in his tent. Lying on the furs, he closed his eyes, allowing the sounds of nature and the quietness of the night to envelop him. The occasional chatter of their warriors echoed in the background. Touya's thoughts drifted to you, and as he drifted into sleep, he envisioned you through the canvas of his imagination.

heathen wolves: @queenkhepri @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog @haseki-huricihan @violet-forgetmenot @dagger-dragger @smartspot

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 1: Looking Death in the Eye

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! eventual filthy smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people?

Part 2

.......

series inspired by the art below!

If there was anything your parents taught you, it was to never mix with the lower, working classes. You were royalty: there was never any need for you to lift a finger, let alone even ask for anything. Everything will be served to you on a silver platter. The heads of your enemies were no exception.

You grew up watching executions like it was a normal family affair, like it was the same as lazily observing geese land in the pond behind your castle as you sat with your chin in your hand. It was always the same. Your family's star executioner, up until now, would force the victim on stage and enact whatever cruel punishment your king and queen parents decided. It was a routine. There was no malice or passion behind it, it was just a job. Chopping heads off blocks was the same as completing a to-do list for most executioners, and you grew accustomed to seeing bloodied heads rolling over cobblestone.

But your family's loyal executioner died suddenly. The peasantry said he was possessed, that the devil had finally taken the man's soul for all the heinous acts he committed. Whatever the case, your family needed a new executioner, fast. It wouldn't be long before people committed more crime, knowing the axe of judgement was temporarily frozen above their heads. you could hear your parents frantically whispering in the dead of night over which executioner to choose. there were so many contenders for the spot. you couldn't have cared less who the new executioner would be. executioners, though their jobs were necessary for functioning society, were spurned and looked down on. a necessary evil, as some may say. your parents taught you to never speak to the executioner, much less even look his way. not out of respect, but rather to keep your eyes clean from the monstrosity of whatever man could live with cutting off heads each day.

the day eventually came when your parents decided on a new executioner. they seemed pretty excited about it, and decided to get right to the "festivities" to commemorate the occasion. the new executioner would, the moment he reached the royal ground, execute the line of prisoners whose deaths had been delayed since the passing of your previous executioner. You strode elegantly, as you were taught, to your seat on the elevated surface as the victims were lined up on the lower stage. the crowd watched anxiously. there was a different feeling in the air. everyone seemed even more scared than normal. the blood-stained oak chopping block had never seemed more foreboding.

and then you saw him. out of your family's royal carriage - the oldest and dingiest one, mind you - this giant of a man stepped out and scanned the crowd. everyone went silent. not even the birds dared to sing as he walked across the stage silently, his axe slung over his shoulder, the wooden boards underneath his jagged leather boots creaking loudly. he was nothing short of a giant. his shoulders were broad, and even though his chest was clothed with black cloth, you knew he was toned. he carried that monstrous axe like it was nothing but a butter knife. the only thing that reminded you that he was, in fact, human was the faint reflection of the sunlight in his eyes from deep within his black hood.

your breath caught in your chest as you observed him. he stood still by the chopping block, so naturally that you felt your spine tingle. your father bellowed out the reason for the execution spree - something about celebration - but your mind was completely fogged, filled with nothing but morbid curiosity for this new death-bringer who would be living in your castle. the executioner was then commanded to turn towards your family and bow before the executions began. this grim reaper turned his broad back and faced your family. his eyes scanned each one of you, but they lingered on you the longest. you felt like a gust of ice wind had just raced up from his gaze alone, manifested somehow by whatever mental prowess he seemed to possess. He bowed lowly to you and your family before standing, glancing at you once more, and then facing the crowd.

your father yelled out with raised arms, "my kingdom! this is your new judge, your executioner! the one who will bring you to justice from here forth is Konig!"

king. His name means king, you thought. how ironic. that a man with such a name - likely an alias - would be performing the work that no one dared do.

for the first time in your life, you watched avidly as this new executioner, as konig, swiftly cut each victims' head off like he was slicing butter. konig commanded respect. even the crowd was silent as he worked, his grunts and the dull sound of the axe meeting wood and bone were the only things to be heard as he performed his duty. it should have scared you. he should have scared you. and when the last victim's head rolled off the block and konig rested against his up-turned axe, you released a breath that you didn't know you had been holding.

hope you enjoyed! this will likely be multiple parts, and a slow burn. i just love this so much

[anamelessfool]

May I please have a grumpy wee baby Copia sketch? 🥺 (you had to know this was coming—it’s your own fault ♡)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ghuleh-recs/@ghuleh-draws /StuffIkindalike

Thank you for supporting me and my grumpy three-year old Copia:

You're an amazing person, an incredible member of the community and a wonderful artist in your own right. You also got me making animation keyframes after 15 years of avoiding them hehe

Copia had joined him this morning in the garden. It was the coldest morning yet, and the little boy was bundled up in a hand-me-down jacket that was too large for him. His arms stuck out as they rested over the navy-blue puff of his body. His mousey little eyes stared out from under a pink knitted hat borrowed from a crafty Sister. He marched quietly around the bare garden beds, his movement slowed from the bulk of his garments like a diver on the sea floor. Primo chuckled as he tossed another log on the block. The next log split as beautifully as the previous ones. Copia wandered by and bent over the piece that had fallen into the frozen grass. “That may be too heavy— take it easy, Copia.” But the little boy did not relent, making a big show of carrying the piece of wood with his arms wrapped around it for dear life. He staggered over to the woodpile and dropped it on the ground a foot away. “Nice work!” Primo laughed, then swung the axe into the block, trapping the blade for next time. He bent down on one knee, his arms outstretched. “Come here, you!”

If you see this post, please go thank Ghuleh-Recs because without her support I would not be making art as much as I do.

[the-kr8tor]

"Whoever can string my husband's old bow and shoot through 12 axes cleanly..." Daily Hobie HC! The challenge (more epic the musical) Hobie had faced through countless monsters, gods, the death of his crew and the blood on his hands. And yet, as he tread on the lands of Ithaca to his palace, where you were, he had one more enemy. Suitors. Hobie managed to grab a cloak and disguise himself among the suitors, each sight of one pissing him off. He desperately wanted to throw off his cloak and kill them all, but his hatred for them could never compare to the love he had for you. He longed to see you once more, staying low in the crowd of lustful and eager suitors. He wanted to hold you, to feel the warmth of your body against his once more, to know whether you would fall in love with him again. You had procrastinated long, keeping the suitors waiting like a dog chained to a pole, eager for the juicy meat just a few inches too far away. You couldn't let your heart move on, seeing the odd storm occurring a few days earlier. You hoped this was a sign for change, that Hobie was back, but you could only hold the mob back for so long. You held a bow and string. Hobie's string and bow. The challenge was difficult, you had high hopes none of these weak men could string his bow like he does. Stringing a bow, and shoot through the 12 axes cleanly to hit the target, was something you had only seen Hobie do so effortlessly. You could feel your heart begin to ache for him once more, walking down the hall with the suitors watching hungrily. You announced the trial, eyes narrowing in disgust at how the other men only saw you as a prize to be one for the throne. Watching the arrows fly, you stood tall amidst the flurry of arrows curving and failing to fly through cleanly. However, one man stood up, concealed with a cloak. Hobie had to suppress a chuckle, his heart beating through his chest as he stepped up, picking up the bow. With precise fingers, he began to string the bow. His old bow, one he hadn't seen for years. The thread was strongly attached, ready to be pulled back. Hobie braced an arrow, seeing the tears well up in your eyes as you recognized him through his disguise. Almost effortlessly, the arrow flew through the 12 axes, landing square on the target. The other suitors looked flabbergasted at this mysterious figure manage to complete such a feat, while as yours and Hobie's eyes met, you couldn't help but tear up. You were frozen on the spot, letting him approach you slowly. Hobie missed you dearly, and you clearly missed him so much more. The warmth of his palm was comforting against your cheek as he cupped your face lovingly, a smile gracing his lips and tired eyes as you lean into his touch. -🐦‍⬛

Ngl I thought that this was a robin hood au!

Daily Hobie HC ‼️‼️‼️

Yeeess!!! I love this au!

Hobie's like "what's worse than fighting gods and sea monsters? Men who are after my wife." If he had a gun he'd be loading it 😂

Just the thought of those men touching you has his blood boiling! 😤

The challenge was so smart when I first read it in the myth

He showed them!! They had nothing on Hobie!

Lmaoo the scene from brave suddenly started playing in my head "I'll shoot for me own hand!"

They're together again 😭😭😭

[wheredoesthethirdswordgo]

FIC FIC FIC

🫴have this offering while i finish up some stuff so i can make new, more substantial fics. just a short zolu fic, about luffy's gear five transformation, from zoro's pov

content: angsty? not really though, temporary character death (gear five!luffy), zolu, zoro pov, luffy's gear five transformation during the fight with kaido, poor zoro man got the biggest scare of his life word count: 884

hope you guys enjoy!

Apricity - zolu

[definition] Apricity: The warmth of the sun in the winter

Chaos. The battlefield around them went still for what felt like a brief eternity as Kaido landed a final, lethal blow. A small figure (and god, he was so small next to that towering dragon) plummeted from the sky, still billowing steam in wreaths.

A dead weight, as though he was an anchor with its rope cut, sinking to the sea floor.

Zoro could hear someone, Nami, probably, screaming “LUFFY!”, but it was muffled and distant through his ringing ears, as though he had been plunged into the deep, crushing water, cold beneath the cruel waves.

His vision had completely narrowed down, tunnel vision reducing his sight to hyperfocus on the unconscious form as it plunged to its resting place.

Badum. Badum. Badum. Bad-.... Silence.

Zoro’s chest contracted, as he felt something snap with a sharp twang, sending a pang of blisteringly cold pain through him.

His eyes widened. Lurching forward, his feet tried to carry him to his captain. Catch him. Save him. Protect him. His knees buckled. Zoro landed heavily on his knees, arms hanging limp and useless at his sides.

He dully recognised the feeling of his swords, Sandai Kitetsu, and Enma slipping out of his shocked-lax hands, Wado Ichimonji falling from his slack jaw. Zoro didn’t hear the clink of metal on stone as they fell. He didn’t hear the cries of shock, sorrow, fear, and triumph sounding from all around him. He didn’t hear Nami’s silent, shaking sobs. He didn’t hear the cook’s gasp and disbelieving curse. He didn’t hear Robin’s quiet “Sencho!” He didn’t hear Ussop’s uncharacteristic quietness. He didn't notice anything. Nothing but the impact of Luffy’s body as it hit the ground. The crater it formed. The massive cloud of dust that rose from the force of his fall.

Zoro was so, so cold.

He felt frozen to the core, as though his very heart had stopped its perpetual chore, frozen solid by the sudden cold. Zoro felt as though he would never warm again. His Sun had been extinguished.

Zoro couldn't hear anything. His captain’s heart was still. The steady drumbeat of that rubbery muscle pumping freedom and laughter through Luffy’s body was conspicuously missing.

Silenced forever.

And in its wake, it left a vacuum, a gaping maw of silence that sucked every other sound into it. Without that ever-present pacer, Zoro was lost. How could he move? What was he to match his footfall to? How could he time the swing of his swords?

His body, it seemed, was not as useless as his heart or mind, and it reclaimed its grip on his swords, Wado clenched between locked jaws, as his arms swung up with Haki hardened blades to meet the heavy head of an axe with a resounding clang.

Like a flood, sound filled Zoro’s ears, his vision widening once again to encompass the barren rock plane they fought on. It was overwhelming. Even as his senses filled, his mind remained empty, incapable of comprehending the undeniable fact of Luffy’s death.

Thankfully, his muscle memory forced his body to fend off blow after blow, defeating enemies as they surged on the remaining Strawhats. It seemed they were spurned by the fall of the largest threat, Strawhat Luffy, and decided to take advantage of the horrified state of the crew.

Too bad. Zoro wasn’t losing anyone else to this fight. He would never be able to join his captain knowing he had left the others defenceless. His own fall would have to wait.

As Zoro mindlessly cut down the last enemy in his path, numb and detached, his ears twitched. He picked up a faint sound. Quiet, but quickly gaining a soaring volume. It was achingly familiar, yet foreign and wrong.

He dared not hope.

Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum.

The battlefield seemed to go still around Zoro, as though it was all narrowed down to that one pinprick of sound.

Looking around, the battle raged on, yet everything was muted, as though the drum beat had overtaken his ears, leaving them only able to hear that steady pound.

He recognised that steady thrum.

And how could he not, when Zoro’s own heart was beating to its tune?

To the pace of a beloved rubber one. One stretched to full capacity to encompass all. One that soared high in the sky as they sailed toward the horizon. One belonging to his Captain.

Zoro’s eyes opened (when had he closed them?) as he heaved out a disbelieving, yet relieved nonetheless, sigh. His ears filled with the booming sound of drums and the laugh of a god. A white streak flew across the inky sky, stilling, suspended like a portrait framed by the moon. A figure who glowed like the sun with divine power. Heavenly.

Luffy.

His frozen body warmed as his heart seemed to resume its duty, thawed by the Sun like ice-coated pine needles. He felt as though he had never been warm before this moment. As though he was only now stepping into the comfort of the Sun. Though Luffy had always been the Sun to Zoro, who had contented himself with being the worshipping Moon.

Zoro scoffed, flexing his hands around the hilts of his swords as he regained his body, still shaken, but now unworried.

Kaido never stood a chance.

word count: 884

[nostalgiaclown]

Lost Boy

Robert Laidir - He/They - 28 - Lords Of Fortune - Slayer Lost - Immature - Disruptive - Avoidant - Emotional - Joker

t/w: Abuse, Panic Attacks, Lack of Self Worth, Daddy Issues (I'm so sorry Rob)

×××

“ROBERT!! NOW!!”

The loud booming voice of your farther rings out across the field, breaking through the ringing in your ears, sweat covers your body, your hair sticks uncomfortably to your face, armour you quite fancied yourself in this morning now feels like a dead weight constricting you, weighing you down, adding to the pressure you’re already feeling after you hear the call of your name, and command to act.

Action.

“ROBERT! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR BOY??!”

Take Acton.

The ground beneath your feet trembles, another deafening roar sounds, that shakes you to the core.

“NOW!!”

Now.

Move.

MOVE.

The weight of your greatsword is too much for you to bare, your hands ache as you grip the hilt tighter, and you are NOT ready for this.

“USELESS FUCKING CHILD!! DIMITRIOS!”

“SIR!”

You stand, frozen, starring into the eyes of the wyvern as it charges towards you. Then, a sickening crunch, as Dimitris’s axe swings down against the wyvern’s skull, blood sprays, and the wyverns head lands with a great thump inches in front of you.

You stand there, chest still heaving, still looking into the now lifeless eyes of the wyvern, you manage a stolen glance to Dimitris, only to see him throw you a sneer as he pulls his axe from the beast.

Fuck.

Fuck…shit- fuck, fuck fuck-

“ROBERT! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

Your heart clenches as your farther painfully grips your arm, pushing you back forcefully, you bite the inside of your mouth so hard you taste fresh blood, you cannot show how much his thumb digging into the gash on your arm hurts, or you know the pain you’ll endure later will be worse than this.

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM SPEAKING TO YOU BOY THAT IS AN ORDER.”

You close your eyes, steel your resolve, or try to. You can feel your grip loosen, and your hands start to shake from the fear and adrenaline running through you. You turn to face the man, no- monster, then open your eyes.

Shit.

He’s fucking furious.

You watch the older man as he closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, before opening them again and speaking with a slow, forcibly calm tone.

“I’ll ask again. What was that, Robert?” His thumb again digs into the gash on your arm. You manage to keep your face stoic, but your jaw clenches, and you lose your grip on your weapon. You hear Dimitris scoff off to the side somewhere. Arsehole.

You need to answer, but what do you say? Nothing you say will matter.

“Captain- I- I’m- shit- I froze, ok? You- you didn’t tell me-“

“Enough. Don’t stutter, boy. Are you trying to piss me off? Huh? Making me look a fool in front of the other officers? Do you get a kick out of playing the useless fool?”

If it fucks with you mate, yes. Cunt didn’t tell me we were going to fight a massive fuck off wyvern today.

“No Sir.”

That earns you a punch to the face. Your vision blanks for a second, but you manage to stay on your feet. Just about.

“THEN STOP FUCKING ACTING LIKE ONE! Worthless idiot. We’ll have words later.”

You hear him walk away, your vision darkens again, and you let out a bitter laugh. Hopefully, this time, you don’t wake up. No words from him are worth shit. You’ll never hear the words you need from him. You’ve accepted that much.

You promptly pass out, the last thing you can make out is your farther spewing more degrading words.

You bolt upright, drenched in sweat. That fucking nightmare again…

“Ugh…fuck’s sake man…” You untangle yourself from your wet blankets, kicking them away. The sound of the sea hitting the hold grounds you. it's fine. He’s not here. You’re away from all that now. Free.

“Hey Rob, shut it will ya? Some of us are trying to sleep yeah, quit yer whimpering and shit, we don’t wanna hear all that-“

“Yeah yeah- sorry, mate.” You get yourself up and pad your way over to the stairs. You need some air.

“An don’t fuckin come back down those stairs stomping like a drunk wyvern- we gotta be up early member- that Rivaini noble tosser wants that artefact, so we need you in top shape, yahear?”

“Yeah yeah I hear ya, still don’t like the guy. I’ll be quiet as a nug… quieter than your snoring anyway.” You bark out a laugh as you dodge the boot that was thrown at you and quickly ascend the stairs.

The night air is cold, the sea breeze whips around you, and the ocean spray kisses your skin. You breathe in. Out.

Looking out across the dark expanse of the sea, your grip on the mast tightens. You are free now. But, what do you do with that freedom? Seek out adventure, of course. Gold and Glory and all that too, you suppose.

Anything to feel something.

Something more.

Something to be prideful in.

[soracities]

Ilya kaminsky: "we sleep in a language until it comes to wake us with its strangeness", Kafka commended books that are like an axe for the frozen sea, Roland barthes was bored of deliberately composed or arranged photographs and sought the "punctum" (prick), the accidental or incidental element that throws you off in a photo... Tbc

Ctd... Francis bacon particularly loved a self portrait of Rembrandt's where his eyes look like bottomless holes and said that "non rational marks <in a painting> convey the mystery of the fact", the entire concept of "ostranenie" - is this what art is about?

i think if you can say anything of what art is "about", it maybe lies in the fact that the more you try to pin down its "aboutness" the further it recedes (like love, like God). when i did art in school the earliest lesson we were given was to draw something by focusing not on itself, but the negative space i.e. the area around the object that isn't the object. we drew the model for each class by drawing what the model wasn't: it wasn't so much about avoiding what i knew, but what i think i knew.

kafka, barthes, ostranenie...perhaps all form a facet of what art involves and leaves us with: it is an interruption (like beauty); its intrusion throws everything around it into new relief—do we know more or less than we did before? sometimes it is one, sometimes the other. regardless, we now know it differently. a sort of chink in the veil, if you will. an invitation, perhaps.

[worlddevoid]

World Devoid: Episode 1.2 - This Is (Not) Your Morning

(Word Count: 1.4k)

...

"WHAT THE FRICK, CASSIE, I COULD HAVE KILLED US!" Baz yells, gripping the steering wheel with bone white knuckles as smoke pours in through the open window. He takes a moment to catch his breath-- taking a few large, dramatic gasps before looking back at Cassie-- bewildered.

"NEVERMIND THAT! What about all these empty cars?" Cassie replies, not even waiting for a response before reaching for the door handle and opening it, stepping down over the high ledge of the RV to the solid ground. She takes off towards the cars without a moments notice.

"WHAT ARE YOU---jeezuz Christopher Christ on a cracker!" Baz exclaims as he scrambles for his own door handle and stumbles out after Cassie. He takes one step towards the line of empty cars before thinking better and leaning back into the RV and across the driver's seat. He stretches his arm into the space behind his seat and grabs the (quite frankly) very tiny, handheld axe they had used to chop firewood. He then scurries into formation behind Cassie, pathetically holding up the can-opener-sized 'weapon' at nothing in particular. "What the FRICK is going on?" He chokes out, trying to keep his composure and failing.

It is eerily silent and still as they approach the sea of vehicles. Not even the wind is blowing. A deep dread washes over Cassie and she sucks in a sharp breath, stopping in her tracks. Something is wrong, but she's not quite sure what exactly that is yet. She steps tentatively towards the nearest car, reaching out slowly for the open door and leaning in as she gets closer. Crouching down, she wiggles her front half into the back seat and starts scanning the area for clues.

"HELLLLOOOOO!" Baz yells from behind her, frustrated at being ignored. He advances to where Cassie has worked her way into the back seat of a sedan, and squints at the cars surrounding them. He takes a moment to scrutinize each one, only to discover that each and every one, within eye sight, appears to be empty. Not only that, but the cars stretch on for miles. Hundreds - no, thousands- of cars leading to the community college, left abandoned. Their owners- nowhere to be found.

He kicks the back wheel well of the car Cassie is investigating and repeats himself. "Helllooooo. What the FRICK is going on???"

"As if I know! That's why I'm looking for clues! Now either help or get out of the way, dummy!" Cassie states bluntly, continuing her search for any sign of what happened here and where the owners of these vehicles have gone off to. Baz winces, but quickly shrugs his shoulders and decides to join the hunt.

Having found nothing in the backseat, Cassie moves her search to the front. Leaning over the middle console, she finds a Nokia 3310 sitting in the passenger seat. Excitedly, she reaches for it, only for the phone to... move- only a tiny amount, enough to make her question whether or not she had imagined it.

Baz, who had been watching Cassie, notices as her focus shifts from the backseat to the front. His eyes land on a small blue phone just as she reaches for it. When it moves- or at least he could have sworn it moved- he quickly looks to Cassie, only to see shock scribbled across her features. She had clearly seen it too. He wrenches open the front car door 'weird that it's just sitting here unlocked' and dives for the phone-- only for it to wiggle just a little bit forward out of his grasp. His hand remains frozen in shock where the phone had been sitting only moments prior. "Uhh...Cassie...." He manages to utter in disbelief, cartoonishly rubbing his eyes as if to reset the image they'd just seen.

To their collective horror, from beneath the phone, eight spindly legs creep over the edge, scraping the corners of the buttons as a disturbing creature emerges. It peels itself off of the plastic and scuttles away from the Nokia, giving them a better look at it.

The creature is no larger than the palm of a hand, spider-like in more ways than one. Its eight long legs, the same shaped abdomen, its dark, obsidian color- everything yells that this is some kind of spider. Except for the eyes. There are precisely six of them, each a different size and shape. Some look eerily humanoid. Even more unsettling, they seem to blink independently of each other.

Cassie immediately recoils and screams in terror.

As her figure flies backwards away from the front seat in quick fashion, Baz leans curiously towards the creature that gave her a big fright. A beautiful spider- unlike any he's ever seen before- blinks in multitude back at him. He wracks his brain to help identify the enigma before him, but his mind comes up blank. He's never seen or heard of an arachnid that matches the description of the one in front of his own eyes and he squeals in glee at the revelation.

"I've never seen a specimen quite as magnificent as this one. The body and legs indicate it could belong in the Badumna insignis family, but the eyes are unlike anything that should belong to that family- or any species of spider really!" He bends forward excitedly. 'THIS IS SO COOL! IF I'M THE FIRST ONE TO DISCOVER THIS LITTLE GUY THEN I GET TO NAME IT AND BE--' "If this is the first of it's kind we need to carefully capture it for study! I will set a trap and lure the little----"

Before he can finish his sentence, the eight-legged creature bends it's legs with lightning speed and launches itself off of the seat and directly toward his face. He swings wildly with the small axe in a panic and feels only the slightest connection with mass--but it's just enough to knock it off course and it lands on the ground just to his left. He whips around to see it poised to pounce just behind him.

Cassie scrambles out of the back seat and books it away from the car. "Baz! Kill it already!" She shouts from a safe distance, leaving them to take care of this. She doesn't do bugs. Unfortunately for her, the spider takes notice of the motion and set its sights on her instead, turning and scuttling in her direction at an ungodly speed for such a tiny thing.

"Get awaaaayyyyy!" She screeches, sprinting away as fast and as far as her legs will let her.

Baz is stood frozen- torn between saving his friend and attacking a potentially new species, or standing still just to see what would happen if it got to Cassie... His better judgement ultimately wins against his bug-crazy brain and he lunges into action, taking one long stride with his string bean legs and swinging his right arm in synchronized action. He slams down HARD on the spider mid-scuttle. A sickening crunch is heard and he cringes, just a little, as orange guts arch through the air and spray against the pavement, some of it splashing on the toes of their shoes.

"Ewwww!" Cassie cries as she stamps her feet and shakes vigorously in an attempt to get the orange slime off her clear plastic heels. It got on her bare feet as well- some of it sticking between her toes.

"Awe, Frick." Baz say dejectedly, crouching down at the massacre beneath him. He moves to languidly touch one of its many legs, lamenting its passing.

Just as their hand is about to make contact with the fuzzy stick of a leg, it twitches and Baz flinches back in surprise.

Suddenly, the massacred pieces of spider carcass begin to vibrate. He stands quickly and takes a step back, watching the pile of flesh squirm with bewilderment.

"Oh God," Cassie whines, tears starting to prick the corners of her eyes. "This is so disgusting."

She is so distracted with the spider guts all over her designer shoes that she doesn't notice the creature in question begin to twitch on the ground. Unbeknownst to her, the spider is beginning to reform its body, the flesh pulling together as if attracted by a magnet.

Baz tunes out Cassie's cries of displeasure and watches- in a mixture of horror and fascination- as the smashed, mangled pieces of the spider's carcass begin to reconstruct themselves into one again. Each broken piece mends before his eyes and the legs begin to kick and twitch as it's stitched back together by an unseen force. He scrambles backwards once more as it attempts to stand- stray pieces of flesh still rolling and squishing into place.

"Cassie." He says carefully. "Get back in the RV."

...

[min3tta]

hold her down (part 1)

“All of me wants to be next to you,” Odysseus whispered to his wife. He gently grabbed her waist and pulled her close under the sheets of their sacred wedding bed.

“Mm,” was all Penelope responded with, and gave her husband a passionate kiss. “I love you Odysseus. I am so glad you’re with me.” 

“Not yet, my dear. But I am close,” Odysseus murmured under his breath.

CRACKA-BOOM! 

Penelope was jolted awake by the loudest clap of lightning she had ever heard. And there she was again, alone in her bed, made temporarily satisfied and confused by her own dream. 

Gusts of wind blew her bedchamber window shutters open, and the spray of rain started to dampen the bedsheets. She could hear the seas outside raging, seeming to yell curses on her beloved island.

... Could it be?

Eurycleia, her maid, rushed into the room to lock the shutters closed again. She quickly placed a rag on the floor to soak up all of the rain that had gotten through. 

“I do apologize, my queen,” Eurycleia bowed to Penelope, still sitting upright in her bed, shaken and confused. “In all my years in Ithaca, I have never seen a storm like this. My, someone must have angered Poseidon.”

Penelope stayed frozen, lost in her own thoughts. 

... Could it be? Some kind of sign? 

A sign of her husband?

“My queen? Are you alright?” Eurycleia repeated. 

CRACKA-BOOM! Another flash of lightning. 

“Oh!” Penelope said. “Um .... yes. Thank you.”

Eurycleia bowed her head to Penelope and started to leave the room.

“Oh! Actually ... ” Penelope started. Eurycleia turned around to her.

“Yes, my queen?”

Penelope let out an exahale. “Tomorrow. You know what to do. Exactly like I told you.”

Eurycleia gave a small nod to the queen. “He will be there,” she said, and swiftly left the bedchambers. 

“My world is about to change,” Penelope said, and drifted back to sleep, eager to awaken the next morning. 

– – –

One woman getting the attention of 108 rowdy men was not easy. The suitors all said they wanted Penelope more than anything, but never payed any attention to her. They never respected her. She was queen, after all. None of that mattered now, though. This was her one shot to get them to listen. 

Penelope took a deep breath and walked into the main hall where the suitors were.

She placed herself on the dais and loudly cleared her throat. 

“Ahem!?”

No response. Obviously, none of the suitors heard her. She looked around the hall. All of the men were drinking and laughing, shoving each other and yelling, as if the palace was some sort of permanent symposium. 

All of the men, except one. 

A beggar of sorts, it seemed, had wandered his way into her palace. He stood in the corner with arms crossed, hidden under a dark cloak. He was observing the madness that was happening before him. 

... Could it be? 

It had come to this. 

Deep breaths ....

“HEY!” Penelope shouted. 

Silence. A few snickers escaped some of the suitors mouths. 

Men. What children, Penelope thought.

“I will make this quick,” she said to the crowd of men. “Whoever can string my husband’s old bow and shoot through 12 axe heads cleanly can be my husband. Be the new king of Ithaca. Please, try your hand,” Penelope gestured toward the palace courtyard, where the axe heads were set up and Odysseus’s hunting bow was waiting, just as she instructed Eurycleia the night before. 

Like a heard of angry cattle, the men made their way to the courtyard to prove their strength and win Penelope’s hand. 

All of the men, except one. 

“Beggar, please, come here,” she called to him. He slowly walked towards Penelope and bowed.

“Yes, my queen?” the beggar said to her.

“Who are you?” Penelope asked.

“I am nobody, my queen. A lowly beggar,” he spoke to her. 

Penelope caught a glint in his eye. “And, may I ask, beggar, where you hail from?”

“Crete, my queen.” 

Liar.

“Ah, welcome to Ithaca, then. I am sorry my husband, the great King Odysseus, could not be here to greet you as well.”

The beggar flinched. He quickly looked toward the courtyard where the suitors were struggling to string the bow. “Where is your husband, may I ask?”

Standing in front of his wife.

“No one knows. Most think he got lost at sea, then was taken by Hades. It’s horrible, really.” Penelope said to the beggar.

The beggar’s eyes were still focused on the suitors attempts to string the bow. 

“May I try my hand at the challenge, my queen?” he asked Penelope. 

“Yes.”

Penelope hid a smile. Inside, she was the happiest she had ever been. 

Her dear Odysseus, in front of her. 

“Any advice for me? I am an old man. I am not the athlete like the men I see out there,” the beggar asked.

Penelope gave a long exhale. 

String your bow like you always have.

Don’t mind the axes, shoot at the threat.

I believe in you.

“Let the arrow fly when you know when your aim is true,” Penelope told the beggar.

Because I’d rather die than grow old without the best of you.

“Thank you, my queen,” the beggar bowed and made his way to the courtyard.

Penelope made her way back to her bedchamber, awaiting a knock at the door.

[ethicallysourcedtink]

ʻMOTHER, WE ARE YOUR DAUGHTERS. WE REMEMBER. WE REMAIN.ʼ ↪ dialogue from a day of fallen night by samantha shannon. ⁽ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁰¹/??⁾ change pronouns/gendered terms as needed.

who comes at this hour?

we might be able to stop each other falling, or we could pull each other down.

your realm is weeping.

i apologise. i thought you resembled someone i knew.

talk to me a while, before i fall asleep.

do you dream of being queen?

it's too late. everyone has seen.

be quick if you cannot be kind.

i come from a village stricken by drought.

are you very angry?

every year, i expect to suddenly feel as though i could say anything and be convinced i was right, and not be terrified that someone will peck holes in my words. as if i've set, or been kilned into shape. still, i never do.

don't lock your heart too fast, (name).

for this, i have crossed the sea.

when i first left, i understood how wide and glorious the world must be; how many marvels it must hold.

a spark can be coaxed into a brighter flame, if given the chance.

be quick, for both our sakes.

this place bores me. no offence.

i was waiting for night to fall.

youthful folly can be excused and buried.

i see you are set on this, but be careful. you could be hurt.

i don't need anyone to save me. all i ever ask is that you not abandon me.

let her never think of this place as a cage.

some would drink of the sweet wine until they drowned.

i believe i have this dance.

i am vexed by your presence.

this mistake is a small part of your life. it does not define it.

it has been some time since i last had peace.

i have a proposal. one i must make in confidence.

fire for your hearth, and joy for your hall.

one of you has sense, at least.

i'd rather make a sport of counting all the signs you miss.

i mean to always tell you when you do foolish things.

i would like you to tell me a story.

let the bastard come.

stay with me, lover.

am i such a fool?

it's not my place to teach you right from wrong. you ought to know it well by now.

i'm sure you would be happy to keep a close watch on a beautiful woman.

if duty takes you from each other, then you must bear the separation.

courage, my love.

you appeal to my heart.

i knew i could rely on you.

your courtesies are hollow, then?

i resent your accusation.

i see you came armed. you must fear me.

you're always so good to me, (name). even when i'm a fool.

i would have hurled myself in after her.

fine garments, i can have made. food and drink, i can provide. what i cannot give is the wit and talent of a courtier.

forgive me. you know how i relish the chase.

i will see you in the morrow.

be at ease.

there are rules for survival. you taught me that.

i will remember. i will remain.

nothing comes above your calling.

no god or spirit worth my praise would have allowed this.

i never knew you were fond of gossip.

what did you dream?

may i join you?

let me get you some ginger. it will help.

it makes (name) twice the fool for planting that thought in your mind.

you have been enough of a fool today. i am in no mood for jests.

why were you in the snow? you could have frozen.

i cannot grant that wish.

i have never heard of such wanton cruelty.

i learned what it was to miss you for the first time.

you might find me less quiet if you had ever paused to speak to me.

forgive my undress.

honour is an axe with two blades.

there is a price.

on my oath, it won't happen again.

why do you rouse me?

shake your head and smile all you like.

i told you we'd make a strong match.

it is gentle poison, but poison nonetheless.

you are often stupid. but you fed me.

so long as she found her mark, she would miss the world catching fire in her wake.

may your dreams be clear.

i merely voiced a thought.

you have finally caught my attention.

do you have a name?

i have a thirst.

i will swear it with your blade, in my blood.

you. always you.

why are you lurking here in the dark?

i have no intention of staying awake longer than it takes me to finish this repast.

i saw how you looked at me in the throne room. and how often.

i assume her tongue slipped.

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Fierce and Feisty Friday

Rules: Post a snippet from one of your fics (can be published of WIP) featuring a fierce and/or feisty character this Friday or next, then tag some people so they can share, too! (Feel free to use the banner if you want!)

Thanks @loonysama for providing this cool banner and tagging me.

Tagging (no obligation by no means...) @luthien-under-bough @keeshya6 @sidepartskinnyjeans @bad-at-names-and-faces

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

Enwrapped

This is snippet from my gift-exchange fic for the Frozen Yuletide 2022 event. A Kristanna (Frozen) - Tangled AU-Fusion. Inspired by the art piece below the text...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nobody had told him the reason why that girl with azury shining eyes, surrounded by a sea of freckles spread across her face like the sky full of stars, was locked up in the castle keep.

It was his duty to protect the girl from intruders, nosy people sneaking in to catch a glimpse of her or listen to her bell like voice. Not to think what might happen to her if she got out of that protected house and garden.

She was like a bird hidden in a golden cage.

“You shall not talk to her, nor look her in the eyes. You help the maid if she needs a hand on things like carrying up a bucket of water. But no more. Mind you, should we find out you disregard the rules!”

The words of the first guard were still ringing in his ears. He had not come all the way to jeopardize the chance of improving his living while risking the beheading axe because of a pretty girl. No, he had no intention for hazard.

“Why is that so?” he had asked. “Is what?” “That the young lady is not allowed to leave the garden grounds.” “That´s none of your business.” The superior had growled. “What´s her name?” He had curiously looked up to the closed window. “This also is none of your business.”

He had kept in mind what he had been told.

But the young lady did not seem to know about those rules, baring a smile on her lips every time she passed him.

The first day, that he had stood at the foot of the tower, guarding the entrance, and she had come out to stroll through the garden, she had stopped at the door.

“Good morning, you are new here, right?”

He had glared ahead, uncertain of what to do. And so, he had simply nodded once, not looking at her. Though then, curiosity grew in him, since her voice was that of the loveliest nightingale. So tender, and yet so full of life.

“Welcome, then!” She had chirped, her voice wallowing up to his ears. “What´s your name?”

This was a question that demanded a proper answer, that he could not give.

“Don´t you have a name?” She asked now, remaining standing beside him, which made him cringe inwardly. Where was the maid to tear this girl away from him?

“I know you are not allowed to talk to me.” She now talked even softer, and she leaned a bit closer. “And I hate that. You need not fear. Nobody is here. You can tell me. Please. It´s so terrible to hear no other voice than Gerda´s all day. Just your name. Please. So that I can wish you a good morning by name when I come out. It´s only polite, isn´t it?”

Gosh, she was persevering… but what else was there for her to do when she was not allowed to go anywhere…

He cleared his voice and felt his stomach clench when he pressed out his almost inaudible answer through clenched teeth.

“Bjorgman… Kristoff…”

“Nice to meet you, Kristoff.” She hushed conspiratorially, “I´m Anna.”

Read the complete fic on AO3

[hellcab]

Movie Night - God of Teeth Prelude.

“Wendy, I’m home.”

Roth snacked on salted popcorn, while watching Jack Nicholson give his best performance. Nearby, several casualties of drained beer cans laid scattered. He was alone. The mess never bothered him. It just grew around him and he never thought about it. Just like so many things.

Grasping a handful, Roth greedily devoured the popcorn. Some spilled onto his Mammon Rock Tour shirt. It just occurred that this was his only meal today. Drinking some stale beer, Roth waited and watched for his favorite scene and line. Jack at the door with the axe. Wendy inside, having just sent Doc outside into the cold. Armed with a butcher knife, she waited for Jack.

It was Roth’s favorite scene next to the sea of blood exiting the elevator. He watched with glee while Jack taunted his family.

“Little pigs! Little pigs! Let me in!”

Roth remembered showing the film to several friends. One, being an Imp who found the film hilarious. Different cultures, Roth assumed. Besides, some down here found the concept of familicide hilarious. A staple of comedy that brought the house down. This day was spent on movies. Roth had so many, so many to choose and watch. The bounty from the store was beer, popcorn and candy bars. He remembered Lute saying his diet was worse than some teenagers’. Or was that some teenagers ate better than him? He couldn’t really remember.

All day long, Roth watched all his favorite movies. He escaped into every movie and into every shot. He wanted to escape and never go back. More importantly, he wanted to escape his memory. He was nearing the day of the ritual. The night when “Ultima Discordia” died with another chance for freedom.

He remembered the room. The voice beckoning him to enter. He entered and witnessed it. He couldn’t describe it, but he could see it. Sweat builds on his brow and cheeks. The sensation of ants crawled around inside him.  Inside him, every atom screams in rebellion. Roth’s eyes become glassy, as if becoming entranced. He stares ahead, while Jack takes the axe towards the door. Wendy screams as she holds onto the kitchen knife. More and more, Roth could hear the teeth.

The phone rang and snapped Roth out. He dropped the popcorn onto the shag carpet. Cursing his luck, Roth looked at the phone, then at the mess. Back to the phone then the mess. Back and forth and back. Roth chooses the phone first. Picking up the receiver, Roth continued watching the film play out.

"Yeah, yeah who's this?"

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

“Roth, it’s me Vincent. Vincent Andras.”

Frozen, Roth sat there, not believing the voice he had just heard. He wanted to escape that voice. To escape that man. He waited, just listening to the travelling static on the landline.  He mustered enough courage. Enough politeness, to answer. Though, warmth was missing. The cold of Roth’s voice shared his opinion. He wanted Vince to know how he feels. After so many years of silence.

“Hi, Vince. It’s been some time . . .”

“Yes, yes it has. I . . . I’m calling for something important. Necessary, even.”

Roth gripped the receiver. He clenched his mouth, while he sat on that couch. He stared ahead, watching the film. Yet, his mind remained curious on Vincent. Why was he calling? Why after so many years since the ritual.

“Roth . . . I know we have differences. Differences that-”

“Fuck. You.”

Roth interrupted, while he gripped the receiver even more. His blood was rushing and burning hot. He delved into his venom and wanted to drown Vincent there. Vince coughed on the other end and remained silent. He speaks again, trying his best.

“I wanted to call you . . . to hear you again. I needed to hear your voice. Roth . . . It’s about the ritual.”

Now, Roth flew up from his seat. He screamed into that phone and wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The night of the ritual, in 1998. The manor house and the dark room. The fear was behind Roth’s every agonizing word. Words of anger and pure fear.

“TALK! TALK about fucking what? We got out by the skin of our fucking teeth! What about Lazlo! Cyntha? Magret and Josh? What about them? THEY’RE FUCKING DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! You killed them with a false promise!”

In many ways, Roth was speaking about himself and Vincent. He blamed himself for what happened on that night. At least, he could blame himself. Vincent always downplayed his part regarding the tragedy. He coped through shrugging the pain off. Then again, that’s all that Roth could see with him. That his old friend couldn’t care anymore than he could afford. The pain was buried inside him as with Roth.

Vincent’s anger was now speaking through the phone. Pain carried over the phone line.

“We were close, Roth! Closer than anyone before us. The door was open, and we could’ve made it! But . . . you choked. You were always a coward running from yourself. You blinked and everyone failed. You. Failed everyone.”

That hurt him more than anything. Roth felt it was true but . . . Vincent always played these games. It was how he controlled people, how he controlled Roth once. He still could even after all these years. Roth just had the benefit of being out of range. Calming his voice, Roth growled and gritted his teeth. Trauma was more present than anger.

“You expected too much. You . . . you demanded too much. You and I . . . . we shouldn’t have survived. Hell . . . the price was too much. What more is there than that . . .”

Vincent sighed on the phone and relented. He speaks again, trying to sound mighty and noble. But his tone betrays his every word. The divide between him and Roth . . . was too much.

“Fine. Stay in Hell, you bastard.”

Before Roth could get his own insult in, Vincent hung up. Roth seemed shocked and insulted and slammed the phone down. The anger remained and burned into his every waking moment. He sat there, breathing and searching for peace. But he found nothing. He wanted to forget. He wanted to forget Vincent and the ritual. The doors and the darkness beyond his own understanding. The thousands and thousands of teeth.

He starts to cry.

[alphateamcaptain]

@iknowwhataradiois | continued

WHO WAS SHE TO TAKE HIS EYE WHEN HE TOOK HERS ?

He sits with one leg crossed over the other , propping his chin up with the palm of his hand . Fingers curl up over his top lip , with just the tops of his eyes peeking through his shades . It was not often she does this , but she never fails to snuff away the possibility of doing so . Brows knotted in a furrow in the middle of his face , SHE HAS STRUCK A NERVE , but to stand over her and have his shadow engulf her , his sea of fire burning her from the inside out would only encourage her to get worse , to be below him .

TO BE THAT CRUEL , THAT WAS HIS GAME — NOT HERS !

An eye for an eye , right ? As the vision goes hazy , of all he had taken could it not be seen as only fair she does it back ? He did always say he was a fair man .

Wesker was not always like this , he had friends in the past that were few and far in between but were still there . They died , because they were IN HIS WAY or otherwise completely accidental . This circles back to S.T.A.R.S in his mind , and what they had .

❝ You do not know me as well as you think , this sliver of my life you see now is not my full story . And you will never know of it . ❞

His walls here a frozen forest in the DEAD OF WINTER , of full cedar trees blanketed in fresh snow and the other trees bare of anything . Their branches were long and crooked as they LEAN down to graze her shoulder as she walks through . The hollows of wind CALL HER NAME with bite , with an ICY rage .

Even if her words and stare and mouth were like an axe to the back of his head , and to his forest , no matter how long she tries to chop him down his ROOTS were under her log cabin . In the end , maybe they will both be nothing but a STUMP amongst ten thousand more .

[pearls-and-vignettes]

A pearl. Bright red in color; effervescently so. It contains multiple types of data from multiple sources. The first is an audiovisual transcript from a looking device. The next, a report, plainly formatted. The last, an audio transcript of an excerpt from a recorded council.

494.843 - FEED [AUDIOVISUAL]

A ROOM WITH A DISPLAY AT ITS FRONT AND FEW, LAVISH SEATS FACING IT. IT IS DIMLY LIT AND SPARCELY FILLED. A PERSON IS STANDING AT THE FRONT OF THE ROOM, TALKING TO THEIR AUDIENCE. THE DISPLAY SHINES DATA FROM AN AUDIOVISUAL FEED. ON THE DISPLAY, THREE FIGURES ARE SEEN IN A NARROW SPACE, SURROUNDING A DOOR, FROZEN. THEY ARE WEARING NONDESCRIPT GILT MASKS,

The case: intimidation of the population by fear of spiritual punishment is not a sufficient deterrent. We need physical force protecting our most sensitive insights and information. A solution: a force of people, strongly built and trained, protecting whatever needs to be harbored. I know that you, as counts or higher, do not wish to pointlessly expend your resources, but I believe that this is necessary expenditure. The following sequence is what will continue to occur, too often, if we leave our mechanisms unimproved.

THE FIGURES ON THE DISPLAY SPRING TO LIFE. TWO OF THEM HOLD INSTRUMENTS OF VIOLENCE WHILE ONE PLACES A VOLATILE COMPOUND ON THE JOINTS OF THE DOOR. THEY FLEE OUT OF SIGHT OF THE LOOKING DEVICE, RUNNING A CABLE TO THEIR PRESUMED LOCATION. THE VOLATILE COMPOUND DETONATES, AND THE THREE FIGURES RUSH IN.

Voting is to commence shortly.

[END OF FEED]

499.537 - REPORT

The statistics following the addition of the Third Internal Security Doctrine to our running list of effective protocols have been tabulated, and the greater Slivered Ashes Local Group Council near-unanimously agrees that its acceptance is a gross inaccuracy as a result, and recommends its repealment in all living blocks under its jurisdiction. The substantiation: while its implementation across the many jurisdictions across superstructures has gutted the resources of many programs (many complaints regarding nectar orders have reached our offices, among other, less savory concerns), it only seems to have lowered the rates of societal incongruencies by a third of a point since its implementation. Expect this judgement and the reasoning behind it to be soon explained in further depth, and a full report to be distributed to all commoners within the local group.

SIGNED - FIVE ROOTS, COUNTLESS GRANULES OF SOIL, OFFICIANT-RHETOR OF THE OFFICE OF THE SLIVERED ASHES LOCAL GROUP

503.702 - FEED [AUDIO]

TBAUNS: Speaking: I am Two-Bladed Axe, Undulations of the Sea, Count of 3 living blocks, Counselor of 5, Sub-Officiant of the Three-Spoked Wheel House of Independent Registrars, and I have come to present my case against Five Bars of Metal, Sparkling Skies Above, Count of 10 living blocks, Duke of 4. They suggested, behind closed doors, to a closed group of elites, that they should be given a great quantity of resources so they may subdue the recent trend of social incongruencies prevalent in their superstructure's community. These counts, dukes, and lords, all agreed to this proposal, surrendering their own resources so that a new house may be established; a new house whose one purpose is to intimidate the public with threats of physical violence. The members of this discreet gathering were unaware of the false pretenses under which Five Bars of Metal, Sparkling Skies Above presented their statement. Namely, a fabricated audiovisual feed presented as a genuine recording of one of the looking devices of their superstructure, Stalk Collapsing onto Leaves Below, as well as fabricated social incongruency statistics were used to present their case. I call upon this council to vote for the expulsion of Five Bars of Metal, Sparkling Skies from all positions of management and leadership of their living blocks, as their actions prove that they are subversive to the local group's community, and do not put their blocks' interests before their own. More information has been sent to your seats.

THSPES: Speaking: Thirteen Scales, a Pressed Sheet, Count of 13 living blocks, Counselor of 6, Duke of 12, and Lord of 4, Grand Arbitrator of the Grand Assembly of the Office of the Slivered Ashes Local Group. Voting will begin on this issue briefly. Please allow your panels a moment to warm up for this assembly's first round of voting.

[. . .]

THSPES: The resolution has passed. Five Bars of Metal, Sparkling Skies Above, Count of 10 living blocks, Duke of 4, will be stripped of all currently mentioned titles. This resolution may be next challenged on 513.702. The assembly will move to the next issue briefly.

[END OF FEED]

[sivavakkiyar]

I unironically (probably self-consciously though, I can’t remember) was reading Kafka’s letter in the waiting room when we pulled the plug on pops. It weirdly helped. (“In recent years you have blamed this on your heart condition, in reality I do not know that you were ever any different, your heart condition is at the very least a means by which you dominate more absolutely…”) cruel, but a good axe. you know. to chop. at the sea of the heart. the one that’s frozen? you need a good axe to do that. like literature.

then I went outside, lit a cigarette, and listened to Webern’s Op .7 (the piano and violin piece, maybe I got the opus # wrong)