#of course i had to make a barbarian skin for reader too because i have no self control

[neverchecking]

hello my dear <333 this is the same anon who sent in that bit about wild/sage and the paint xD you can call me 🌕 anon or moonie if you'd like :}

but!! if you want to hear more brain rot about the barbarian set or just my general LU brain rot I am MORE than happy to elaborate haha xD literally had to put my switch down the other day when the thought popped into my head because I was making my brain hurt with the amount of !!!!!#!@!!! that was going through it HAHA

cause there's SO many possibilities... like hear me out – putting the paint ON is fun and all and absolutely gets wild/sage all hot and bothered, but on the other hand, they've still got a battle to fight right? so they can't have too much fun ;) the others are still waiting to storm a camp of literal moblins or something HAHA

so!! I give you an alternate solution: rubbing the paint OFF >:D

I saw someone else talk about how the barbarian set is supposed to like 'bolster link's fighting spirit' or something,, yk make him a lil more primal if that makes sense, and that's all well and good when he's actually IN battle and doing what he does best xD BUT when the battle is finished,, where does all that adrenaline and primal feralness go??

whose gonna help him release all that 'fighting spirit' reader?? he's just got so much adrenaline built up :(( you just have to help him you know? ;)) he promises he'll treat you so good <3

SO imagine this,, the battle BARELY finishes before sage (idk this is giving me sage vibes now, I love that feral lil gremlin) is yanking you away and dragging you somewhere the others can't find you (of course you were nowhere near the battle itself, sage just can't bear anything happening to you <333 ) and he's tossing that helm away, knowing it will only get in his way – and then sage is pressing himself into you with a glint in his eyes that just makes reader's stomach do lil flip fops (cause I just KNOW that man would have such a feral lil smirk that would make me just MELT)

and he's asking you for help to get the paint off,, you helped him put it on, surely you can help him scrub it off! he's just so tired from fighting and wants your help ;))

"c'mon, love," he'd murmur, that deep lilt in his voice as he pulls you closer. "help me take care of this, hmm? I'll treat you so good – always do, don't I?"

so sage is grabbing reader's hand and pulling them into him with that smirk and dragging their fingers to his toned stomach, letting them graze the waistband of that cute lil skirt that the armor has (link has so many cute lil skirts in this game OFF TOPIC but noteworthy HAHA) and he's rubbing their hand against that purple handprint on his waist, watching with a grin as they rub their thighs together. when he dips their fingers down the waistband, letting them get a feel of his pretty v-line and soft skin, his head tilts back with a pretty sound (I just KNOW he sounds SO pretty when he moans - and he's SUCH a tease)

"yeah, just like that," sage would murmur when the paint smears onto your fingertips, taking the hand at his waist and pulling you back up to his level. "So good for me..."

he's got so much adrenaline he's so frenzied from the bonus that the set gives him, and he knows the perfect way to get all that craze released... if this method gets purple paint on your inner thighs from where he was just desperate to get you on his face – oh well...

oh how sage would love smearing that paint onto you when you're 'scrubbing it off'

when you and sage come back to the chain,, there's faint purple streaks on your fingers and smeared onto your thighs (and def not on your tummy from where he was pressed into you... no def not xD ) and wild gives sage THAT look and sage still has that lil feral gremlin smile back like yeah,, I did that >:D

(but don't worry, wild def plans his own revenge for later ;)) he's gotta even the score yk? )

🌕 ANON I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND QUITE WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME-

I'm hearing everyone out. Especially with my boy. ESPECIALLY with the barbarian armor. He's cursing Dink and everything he stands for for forcing him onto the front lines, but you bet the second he's off duty he's on Reader's ass.

The idea that the set just makes Sage even more Primal is so gfofnfnf You wouldn't think it possible! BUT IT IS

Great golden goddess I'm slobbering over this. I just know through it all Sage is treating you so well.

Because above all else, his focus is you. He's pinning you to the first tree he deams worthy and pulling whatever bottoms your wearing down, throwing your legs over his shoulder and going to town. Maybe he's pulling his cock out and stoking it a few times, maybe he's so focused on tonguing your opening he doesn't even care. All he knows is that he's got a purpose. A reason for breathing and he's fulfilling it. Maybe the Helm stays on only for something for Reader to hold onto.

When he's got at least one orgasm from reader, coating his lower chin in whatever, that's when he may let up, pinning them against the tree so their legs wrap around his waist. Then he's throwing the helm away. And he absolutely has this feral little smirk that makes your entire being just melt for him. You can't say no to this man.

So won't you help him?

"That's it sunshine," His hands circle around your hips before pulling you flush to his chest, the heat from his recent bout of exercise making the air around you smolten. "Just give yourself to me. Just like you always do."

He's guiding Reader's shaky fingers past his waistband (His little skirts have me BARKING), matching the marks already there. He's turning their hand and using it trace his already aching cock. And just when the first signs of hesitation break through, he's letting the prettiest moans slip through. He's quivering just enough to keep Reader hooked.

(Sage has the prettiest fucking moans. Like besides Sky and maybe Wars, it's Sage who's got the prettiest little noises. It's just getting them out of him that's the tricky part.)

"Goddess Divine," He would pant, watching purple smear your fingertips as your fingers curl around his shaft, slowly tugging once, twice, just to hear his gorgeous little whimpers. "Fuck- you're so good to me."

He's bucking into your hand like a virgin all over again, practically ripping himself away before he bursts only to spread your legs so prettily for him, sticking himself right between them. He's always loved marking you, but this takes it to a whole new level. There's no way you can hide this between now and the time it takes for you to get a bath.

(No definitely not. Just like there's no purple paint on ass from where he's placed two perfectly shaped hand onto the cheeks, Not at all.)

Wild is fuming in his spot, wiping his own makeup off with a towel like a normal person. But now that he knows what he can get away with, he's certainly looking for the next opportunity.

Perhaps they're wearing the armor a lot more often.

Maybe they take up a competition between the two of them :)) Just to see whose really the better option.

[spacegoat4ever]

Read YRWYS by @1-800-sat-anic here

I can’t believe that I forgot to post that dinner dress one last chapter, because I am very smart and remember to do things.

Also I don’t know how to feel when new people start reading the fic because then my old art gets lots of likes! And on the one hand I’m like yes people actually like it! But on the other hand, that stuff is so old and badly made aaaaaaa Thank you for all the love though, you guys are the best <3

[strawbxrryneptune]

I was so mad cause Tumblr deleted this when I was about to post it but I'm glad it did cause I have an even better idea

May I present... Dragon!Kirishima x Dragon!Bakugou with spoiled princess reader

@miggiisdumb this is for you bby

Masterlist

♡♡

Being a princess had its perks. You could have virtually anything you wanted, which was fun, but then everyone thought you were spoiled. A brat.

They weren't wrong, but you wanted them to fear you.

You wanted to be respected, and what better way to do that then take in two wild, feral dragons?

Bakugou and Kirishima, two barbarians from the dragon kingdom, captured and brought to you as a symbol of their faith in you.

They were muzzled and drooling when they met you, smelling the sweet smell between your legs at the sight of them, the scent of you so strong Kirishima fell to his knees, drool pooling on the floor as he panted harshly, clawing at Bakugou’s legs in need.

He couldn't ever look you in the eye, always trained on your pretty tits, amplified by the tight corset, or even the space between your covered thighs, nose twitching when he got near you, bulge straining in his pants a clear indicator of how bad he wanted you, even though he acted shy.

Bakugou, on the over hand, was more forward. He kept you locked in gaze throughout the day, often putting you in your place when you got too snappy with him.

Technically they were your body guards now, so when you got on the blondes nerves, there was no one to stop him from mounting you, the old guards only able to stand and watch unless they wanted to be mauled to death.

He would have you face down, ass up, hips grinding into your ass while he snarls, spewing filth out of his mouth.

"You act so high and mighty but you're just another slut."

"Be fuckin happy I got this shit on my face, Brat"

"M' gonna dump so much fuckin cum in you you won't be able to breath without feelin my pups. Gonna stuff you so full and have Kiri eat it outta ya, ain't that right, mutt?"

At that, Kirishima lifts his eyes from where they were staring at your legs, drool dribbling down his chin and pants straining against his hard on.

"B-breed."

Bakugou grins wildly, pushing your dress up and moving slightly over, crooking his finger to Kirishima in a come here motion.

"Smell her, Mutt. She's fuckin aching for it."

Kirishima immediately scrambles forward, growls of excitement quickly turning to whimpers when the muzzle restricts him from pressing his face into your cunt.

You yelp as Bakugou grips the back of your neck amd drags your head back, snarling into your ear to unlock the traps so we can get a taste of you.

You reach back a shaky hand to grab the key from your pocket, Bakugoy snatching it and unlocking himself and Kirishima.

As soon as the red head is free, he lunges for you, but Bakugou grabs his left horn and tugs him up to his mouth, canines grazing Kirishmas ear.

"You don't move until I tell you to move, Dragon."

Kirishima bares his teeth at him, but quickly turns his neck in submission when Bakugou reveals rows of sharp teeth, a heavy growl coming from the blondes throat as he nips at the other males throat.

He pushes Kirishimas head roughly into your cunt, making him groan as he pushes his rough tongue inside you, your back arching at the feeling.

"So good. Good-breed-"

You cut off Kirishimas rambling with a sharp moan as his teeth graze your clit, tongue soothing the throbbing bud as he laps at it, thick fingers reaching up to plunge into you.

You start to foggily wonder where Bakugou went, but then you look up and see him in front of you, cock standing tall.

Its so pretty, thick with bulging veins running along it and ridges, the fattest part of it the base, and the tip, which are swollen and pink. It reaches slightly past his belly button and you wonder if he'll tear your throat apart.

He grabs the base of it, squeezing gently as he inches forward, and you open your mouth to take him in when you notice his balls.

They're so fat and heavy that you have a sudden and intense urge to take them in your mouth, give him some release cause you know he must he aching.

You weren't wrong.

The thing about Bakugou was that since he had such a big cock, it was hard to find someone to take it.

What made it worse was that back at home, he was a barbarian. No woman was willing to even look at him, let alone sleep with him. Kirishima was lucky, because yes, his dick was also huge, but he was on the nicer side and most woman didn't know or even think he was a barbarian. Few females could handle him, but at the end of the day he got to empty his heavy balls at least twice a week.

Bakugou hadn't cum in ages, never really having time to jerk off, spending most of his time pillaging and making deals.

So when the thick head of his cock pushed at your lips, but you ducked down and sucked at the bottom part of his balls instead, he let out a punched gasp, his hand tightening around his meaty cock and hips twitching forward in ecstasy.

You didn't know how sensitive he was, especially down there. He could already feel himself hurtling towards his high, cheeks red and head thrown back as he lets out the filthiest moans you've ever heard, thighs trembling around your head as he jerks his knot off rapidly, chest heaving.

You manage to wrap your lips around a good amount of him, sucking and moaning while your hand travels up, rubbing over his swollen tip and popping off his balls to give his knot a suck too, laving your tongue over the swollen skin and whimpering when he almost collapses, hands grabbing your head and pushing it back towards his ball, snarling about how hes too sensitive.

You, of course, don't listen, and push back against him to put his cock fully in your mouth, when you feel Kirishima behind you run something along your slit. You start to wonder if he was going to go back to eating you out, cause you knew you were creaming all over your thighs, overwhelmed from how hot it was sucking Bakugou off.

You were so close to the edge, you could cum just from a couple licks to your clit.

You feel something thick start to breach you, pausing in your quest to get Bakugous knot back in your mouth as you realize Kirishima is putting his dick inside you.

Bakugou realizes it at the same time, leaning over to bite into Kirishimas neck as a warning, but just as he sinks his teeth into the sweaty flesh, Kirishimas fat tip pops into you, stretching you so obscenely you cum, hard, careening forward and gagging on Bakugous dick, moaning around the top of his knot and making him whimper into the red heads throat, his knot swelling and dumping loads of cum into you, spilling out around the corners of your mouth and dripping onto his twitching balls.

Kirishima gasps at the feeling of you cumming around his dick coupled with Bakugous teeth on his throat, his eyes rolling back as he cums as well, filling you up to the brim and then some.

Bakugou reaches a shaky hand down and scoop his come from your mouth, licking his hands to taste himself as Kirishima does the same, and you almost cum as they lean forward and lick into each others mouth, hips rutting into your mouth and cunt sub consciously as they make out.

Fuck, you loved being a princess.

[giorno-plays-piano]

I would like a request for Steve Demon, something very dark and hot, thank you! 😈❤️

Hi darling! Thank you for your patience 🙏💖 This story was inspired by Slavic witch legends and VN Demonheart!

Oh, my love, don't forsake me

Pairing: demon!Steve Rogers x witch!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, dark magic, dubcon, witch!Nakia, mentions of violence.

Words: 1670.

___________________

You remembered your first encounter with him well. It had been your first Walpurgis Night when Nakia presented you to a coven: you had been taken through an initiation ritual to become a true witch, and all of you danced and drank and laughed, jumping through grand fire and burning your clothes till you all had been naked, only jewelry - necklaces, earrings and bracelets - left on your bodies.

It was then when demons had arrived, many of them flying directly to their witches and starting dancing with them, picking them up and letting them ride them high up in the sky as if they were horned horses, and you froze on your spot, watching their red bodies glowing.

"You will choose your demon lover today." Nakia whispered to you, smiling to her own mighty demon, his shoulders wide and muscular, his gaunt wings so large he could cover ten people with each. "There are several of those who are free."

"Today?" You asked her nervously, watching those demons without a witch on their backs. "But I thought I would be given time to let them know better."

You knew no one but Nakia, and the thought of choosing your demon right this very moment seemed a bit frightening to you. The witch was choosing her demon lover for eternity - unless both her and him would decide to separate, but it was highly unlikely as the bond they built had always been hard to break. How could you do it without knowing a demon first? Today you could make the worst mistake in your entire life - and afterlife, considering that your soul would travel back to Hell with your demon by your side.

"Don't fret over little things." The witch flashed you a wide smile, her flawless skin glowing softly in the dim light coming from the fire meters away from you. "You will be fine. Look at them! Who is the one you want the most?"

She motioned to the demons flying up in the air, their wings flapping, and you realized you could actually see what was beneath the loincloth of some of them, your face growing unbearably hot. How indecent! Why didn't they wear something more concealing?

"Because they are showing new witches what they got to offer." Your mentor laughed at your bemused expression, and you chuckled, thinking how you were standing naked in front of them with just a think golden necklace on, the only valuable jewelry you had. "Don't be shy, dear. Look, look at them! Ask me if you see someone attractive, and I will tell you everything I know."

Oh dear, it was probably the most embarrassing thing you had ever done, but you couldn't miss your only opportunity to know more about your future lover. Besides, you didn’t become a witch to spend your days caring about morals and decency, did you? You were going to sin till the very end of your life, and today could be a nice starting point. In the end, a physical body and all its parts were nothing to be ashamed of.

Watching several men, their skin scarlet, floating above the grand fire and laughing along the other couples, you tried focusing on those who you thought looked the strongest and sheepishly whispering to Nakia. You felt a little distressed her own lover had to wait for you, but the demon only grinned at you, baring his pearly white teeth, and bowed his head a little, visibly agreeing to wait longer. Maybe they weren’t all as scary as you imagined? You certainly hoped so, pointing to several demons and asking your mentor about them.

“This one? This is Tony, he’s a clever but vicious sort.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Turning her face to you, Nakia gently caressed your head as if you were her child. “No, darling. Not to us. But you are right, I doubt Tony would be the right choice for you. Maybe young Peter? It is his first Walpurgis Night, but he’s of age. Or Brock, that demon over there? Oh no, look at this ruthless barbarian...”

However, before you had time to look at the man she had pointing at, another demon suddenly crossed your way, and you stilled when he looked directly at you, his large crimson wings blocking the view for both Nakia and you. He stood out from the crowd with his glowing golden hair and immense wings that were bigger than even Nakia’s lover, and you frown when the demon landed on his goat hooves, aggressively ripping his loincloth away and baring his flesh in front of you. Your face grew hot at his shameless display, and searched for your mentor’s hand, clutching it in yours like a child, truly. What was that? Did you make the demon upset? Had you broken some rule you didn’t know about?

Nervously glancing at Nakia’s lover you saw him distressed, too, but he didn’t move further to protect you, standing on his place. Was it because there was no true danger or because he simply couldn’t protect his witch against the monster in front of you?

“Who is he?” Your whisper was barely audible as you trembled, clinging to Nakia, and she wrapped her warm arm around your shoulders, leaning closer to your ear.

“Steven of Triskelion. Do not be scared, my darling, he isn’t here to hurt you. I wonder why he’s courting you so... passionately, though.”

“Courting me?”

“Oh yes, my dear. Look at him, putting himself on display like that for a young witch. His desire for you must be strong.”

Softly waving at her lover and seeing him relaxing, Nakia gently pushed you in front, encouraging you to come closer to the demon whose gaze was so intense you were worried he would make a hole in you. Oh, you needed to talk to him. Probably. You weren’t sure, but by the look on the witch’s face you guessed the demon in front of you wasn’t necessarily a bad choice. Judging by his enormous form and his thick, veiny cock in between his muscled legs, maybe he really weren’t.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious in front of him, you tried smiling and prevent yourself from covering your body with your hands - he had just shown himself completely naked to you, and it would be disrespectful of you to do otherwise. You certainly didn’t want to upset a demon like him.

“Hello, Sir. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You said politely, hoping he wouldn’t mind the way you talked to him. Should you bow to him? Offer him your hand? Kiss his cheek? No, no, you wouldn’t dare.

For a second you thought he was going to hit you, but you knew a demon would never do that to a witch, especially with a whole coven present. They’d ban him from ever pairing with any of them, stripping him of a possibly ally and lover. Only the most insane demons would try doing something as reckless and disrespectful, but they weren’t allowed to Walpurgis Night celebrations. Thank... Devil?

The demon suddenly chuckled, baring his sharp fangs, “You don’t have to be so polite with me, little witch. I am sorry for intimidating you for it was not my intention. Come closer.”

Liar! He loved the effect he had on you, you didn’t have to get inside his horned head to see it. Was he of patronizing kind? Maybe. It wasn’t the worst one among demons straight from Hell, and you smiled at him, putting your arm in his as he drew you closer to him, his other arm softly cupping your chin. His crimson body was radiating heat, and you enjoyed it when demon made you lean onto his wide chest. Despite being somewhat shy about the whole encounter, you were starting to warming up, demon’s touch having a strange effect on you.

“Allow me to give you this.” The man murmured into your ear, and you felt the heaviness of a string of pearls on your neck, touching it with your fingers and watching the demon with wide eyes.

Of course, you have heard of witches receiving gifts from their demonic lovers, but Steve was still a stranger to you. Was it right to accept something so expensive from him? While you tried looking for Nakia to ask her advice, the demon wrapped his large gaunt wings around you two, preventing you from searching for your friend, and forcefully turned your face to him, claiming your lips as if he wanted to devour you. You had no time to react before his huge tongue got inside your mouth, his clawed hand running up your rib cage and cupping your breasts as you whimpered against him, his body blazing hot. He didn’t give you a second to get accustomed to the kiss before spreading his wings and flapping them as he unceremoniously grabbed you by the hips and flew up, taking you with him. You let out a little mewl, clinging to Steve for life. What was he doing?!

“Don’t be scared, kitten. I’m not asking you to ride on my back just yet.” The demon’s voice was soft, but you could see his grin getting wider, and a part of you was nervous at his somewhat aggressive courting. “But wouldn’t you like it? I can be a powerful ally for a witch and a gentle lover for an innocent kitten like you.”

“Be careful, dear. Steve became bitter after his witch has left him to return to God,” Nakia’s voice said in your head, and you frowned, knowing the demon most certainly heard her, too.

She left him for God? What, how was this even possible?

Demon’s grin turned wicked as he kissed your forehead, getting higher and higher as other demons and witches danced below you. “It’s true, darling. That’s why after you choose me to be your lover I will carve your heart out of your chest and keep it with me.”

_____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess

[raindownforme]

Green

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

“This sucks. This really sucks.”

“Money is money Ted.” y/n readjusted her elf costume. “Maybe just pick the better idea next time.”

Ted groaned as he looked at the camera. “I’m not doing a transition.”

“It’s your video. Come on, get in the spirit!” y/n watched Ted go over to the tripod, the bell on his hat jingling the whole way.

“I’ll turn the cold air on. Then we won’t over heat in these things.”

“Well don’t make it too cold. It’s already 70 out.”

“Ooooh cali girl can’t handle cold weather.”

“Can you at least say the full name? Put some respect on it.”

Ted rolled his eyes, walking back over to y/n. “Okay, camera’s on. We’ve got all the ingredients, is there anything else?”

“I’d liked to say we look adorable as elves.”

Ted blushed a furious red, muttering something under his breath, but y/n didn’t notice as she was turned to the table of ingredients. “Anything important?”

“Where’s my food dye?”

“Why?”

“It’s Christmas time. It’s a Christmas cheesecake.” y/n walked over to Ted’s pantry and dug around the shelves for the small bottles. “You can pick which layer is red and which is green!”

Ted sighed, then straightened himself as he prepared to do the video. “The things I do for you.”

“Oh please you love me.” y/n took her spot next to Ted and cleared her throat. She looked up to Ted, him being quite taller than the former, and frowned. “Ted? Buddy?”

Ted was stuck in a state of shock almost. His face had become bright pink as he stared dead ahead. “Uh. Yeah love you too.”

“Jeez alright. Come on man we got a video to do.” y/n nudged him slightly and watch him smile to himself.

“And now it is Christmas!” Ted gestured with his arms as he talked to the camera. “As you can see we are elves for this festive Yuletide cheesecake that y/n has so graciously given us the recipe to.”

“Thank you Ted. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. So now we start with the…. Crust?”

y/n nodded as she took graham crackers from the box. “You take roughly 30 crackers and place them in the baggie, then crush them to small crumbles but not dust.”

“Hmm. Like a Nickelback concert.”

y/n paused. “What did you say?”

“I said what I said.”

“Alright, well take them into the bowl now.” y/n continued to demonstrate how to make the crust, then the two moved onto the cheesecake filling that consisted of sugar, vanilla extract, eggs, and of course cream cheese. After mixing the filling for the full 30 minutes, Ted chose to make the layer red, adding just too many drops so it looked more like blood than Christmas.

“Okay, then this will bake for 50 minutes.”

“That’s an oddly specific time.”

“Do you want cheesecake or not.” y/n poked fun at Ted before she slipped the cake into the oven. “Now what? Dishes? Are you changing into Santa clause this time?”

“I was just going to put on music or something.”

y/n fake gasped. “The famous Toyota Tacoma playlist? It couldn’t be.”

“Oh sorry because you have one playlist that’s not even named.”

“Whatever dude.” y/n smiled as she put dishes in the sink.

“You don’t have to do the dishes. It’s my house.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s my stand mixer we used.”

“y/n. It’s fine. You’re my guest.”

“I’m literally here all the time. I’m allowed to do something nice for you.”

Ted watched silently as y/n washed the large mixing bowls. Quietly, he walked over to her side, resting an arm on her shoulder. “Hey-“

“Jesus fuck.” y/n dropped a bowl in the porcelain sink, making a large clattering noise. “You need to move that smoothly? You quiet little weirdo?”

y/n turned to face Ted. “You didn’t hurt yourself right? No glass?”

“No it’s just a metal bowl.” She reached up and poked his cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re worried for me.”

Ted pushed her away. “Pssh. Am not.”

“Yes you are! See-“ y/n reached to take a steak knife of of Ted’s knife rack, but he raced over to stop her, setting his hand over hers. “Ted.”

“Knives are dangerous! Also I don’t know what your plan was there.”

“Mostly to make you worried.” y/n let go of the knife, letting the blade snap back to the knife rack, but Ted didnt let go of her hand. Instead, he turned it around and brought their fingers together, interlacing them. “Ted?”

“y/n.” Her face felt warm and she tried to look away from the tall man. “I’m your friend. I’m allowed to worry about you.”

“I- I didn’t say you weren’t.”

Ted let go of her hand. “You’re right. You look adorable as an elf.”

“Dude I’ll get you I swear.”

Ted smiled to himself. “Yeah right cali girl.”

The two continued peacefully for the next hour, allowing the cake to cook and fully rest before the next step.

“Alright, so roughly two and a half cups of sour cream-“ y/n plopped the sour cream into a glass mixing bowl with a spatula. “Then vanilla and some sugar. Ted what color do you pick this time?”

“GREEN.” y/n watched as he emptied nearly half a bottle of green food coloring into the previously white mixture. “GREEN.”

“Alright you barbarian. And now we mix.”

“You know.” Ted watched as she stirred the sour cream mixture by hand. “This could be easier for you if you just let me dry the dishes.”

“They can dry on their own I just need to mix this for, like, two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” Ted watched as she set down the bowl and turned for a second. He took that to his advantage, dipping his finger into the mixture. As she turned around, he took the chance to smear it across her nose. “That didn’t seem like two minutes to me.”

“Ted!” y/n stuck her fingers into the mixture as well, jumping up to smash it across his mouth and jaw.

The two stared at each other, anticipating something. Ted grinned, grabbing a heaping handful of the green sour cream. “Oh it’s on.”

Ted chased y/n around the kitchen, splattering green sour cream all over her skin and the cabinets and the counter tops. y/n retaliated, picking up the bowl and using the spatula to fling green at him liberally.

“Oh I’ve got you now.” Ted had her cornered, standing over her with the height difference. She stood defensively, aiming the green-stained spatula at his neck. She shuffled to the side, hoping to get around him. She dashed for it, but slipped on sour cream on the floor. “Shit I’ve got you-“

The spatula clattered on the ground as Ted caught y/n in his arms. y/n held her breath. She was inches away from Ted’s face. She lightly placed her arms around the back of his neck. “Ted.” Her voice was hushed as he slowly lifted her upwards, keeping his face still inches away from hers.

“y/n.” The two leaned closer, barely centimeters away, before Ted closed the distance, smashing their faces together. He couldn’t help but smile as she kissed him. She kissed him! Ted pulled her closer, crossing his arms behind her waist.

“Wait wait stop.” y/n pushed him away slightly, separating by barely two inches, but Ted still loosened his grasp on her waist.

“Did I say something? I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“No no it’s just… you taste like green sour cream and it’s- it’s so off putting.”

Ted laughed, pressing his forehead against hers. “Was that okay then? Cause I’d like to do it again if you don’t mind.”

“Maybe when you don’t have sour cream everywhere. Speaking of which, we have extra right? Because I think we used it all.”

Ted pressed another kiss to her forehead before standing upright. “I’ll buy you all the sour cream you want.”

“Good because this Christmas cake needs it.”

Ted laughed, pulling her back to the counter. “Ready?”

y/n took his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. “Ready.”

[randoimago]

Protect pt. 1 :: Yasha

PART 2

Pairing: Yasha w/ Child!Reader

Words: 805

Notes: Here's another case of me being unable to read. There was a specific request for Yasha and a child!Reader and I wrote this instead. Thankfully with the actual prompt, I can kind of make this into a prequel of the actual request so have this fluff piece while I get the actual request written out!

"Yasha!" The pale-skinned Aasimar turned to look for the high-pitched voice that called out to her. She held a look of worry as a hand went to her back to grab skin gourger just in case. She relaxed when she just saw the small child running over. A small smile went onto her face at the excited expression on your face as you ran up, giving a toothy grin.

"You scared me little one," she stated. Your eyes widened at that, a look between amazement at being able to scare who you believe to be the strongest woman alive and upset because you didn't want to scare the person that has helped you through so much.

"I didn't mean to!" You quickly exclaimed and Yasha gave a gentle pat to your head, maybe being a tad too gentle as she didn't want to accidentally hurt you, something she constantly fears as you are such a tiny thing.

"I know, little one. I just worry about you so hearing you yell suddenly alarmed me." You frowned and nodded at Yasha's explanation, taking note of what you need to improve on for next time. "What is it you needed?"

"Oh! Look what I found!" You held out your hands and showed a small blue cornflower. You seemed so happy to show Yasha the delicate thing and Yasha smiled at it.

"It is very pretty."

"Yeah! It's a present for you!" Yasha's eyes widened a bit at that. You got her a present? It isn't the first time that you've picked flowers or grabbed bugs to give to the barbarian, but she couldn't help but be surprised each time. There is still a small part of her that believes she doesn't deserve such kindness.

"That is very thoughtful, little one."

"Yeah and I didn't steal it this time!" The aasimar raised an eyebrow at that and you immediately went to backtrack. "I mean-- I didn't borrow it from someone's garden... Jester said that gardens are for the public to enjoy and that it's okay to take a flower or two..." Yasha couldn't help a smile at your explanation and gave you another pat on the head.

"Jester is right. Flowers are for everyone to enjoy. This is a very thoughtful gift, thank you." Yasha took the flower from you and moved to her bag to take out her book. You smiled, swinging back and forth on your feet as you waited and watched her flip through the pages before choosing one and pressing the flower.

"Miss Yasha?" She raised another eyebrow. You hardly used anything before any of the nein's names anymore once you got used to all of them. Whenever you did it meant you were going to ask something serious. 

"Yes?"

"Why were you scared when I approached? I know you said you worried but why?" Yasha didn't understand the question at first but then realized what you meant. She gave you a gentle smile as she crouched down to be at eye level. Or at least close to eye level as she was still taller than you even on one knee.

"We travel a lot and meet many people. Not all of these people are good. I was afraid that you were scared because someone bad had shown up."

"But why would that scare you? You're strong so of course you'd protect me and keep me safe!" Yasha gave a hum at your childlike mind. Of course you viewed her as a hero. You viewed all of the nein as your heroes. But Yasha knew there could be possibilities where she might not be able to safe you. She'll sure as shit try but how does she convey that to a child?

"I am very strong and I will always protect you, but sometimes I might not be fast enough to get to you. I will make sure you won't be harmed, all of us will, but --" This is one of the times where Yasha wished she was good with people. You seemed to understand what she was getting at and gave her a nod.

"You'll always protect me in the end though, right?" Yasha gave a nod.

"I will always protect you in the end," she agreed. You gave a wide grin at that. Yasha was a bit surprised at the sudden end to that conversation, not expecting it to go so well but then she recalled that you are indeed a child. She ruffled your hair a bit and you pouted as you went to fix it. "Let's go back to the others." You agreed as she lifted you on a shoulder and began heading back.

No matter what happens, she will always be there to protect you. No matter her fear or anxiety, she will be damned if anything happens to you.

[the-fiction-witch]

She’s Not Yours P1

REAL LIFE X THE LAST LEGION KINDA

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING ADORABLE + KINDA FLIRTY

I sat, My back straight, My mind clear. My feet barely touched the marble floor, My hands barely reached the rests of the throne I sat upon. My advisers around me, soldiers surrounded me, the men, women, and children of the city all here to ask favours of the crown. I rarely spoke, I barely moved, The decisions were made for me but I was far too used to it to mind. 

"My King," A Man bowed as he approached I nodded to him

"Speak your business" The adviser snapped beside me 

"It's the farm sir, barbarians have been raiding in the fields day and night Please I beg of you to spare but one soldier to protect the border of our lands, my farm, my home, my wife and children" 

"No Soldier's can be spared outside of city limits" The adviser snapped 

"I'm sure we can spare one," I said looking up to him, he didn't seem happy but nodded 

"Of course my king. One. and no more" 

"Thank you my king" He nodded before heading off 

I felt the glares of the staff around me so I stayed quiet until the people had all left 

"An Excellent day my king" My adviser smiled at me 

"I barely did anything"

"You did everything my king. Just appearing in person brings light into the presents lives" He says 

"They didn't seem happy to see me"

"Of course they were," He says kneeling in front of me "They adore you, they worship you, they would lay down their lives for you if you were to command it." he explained "and you own them. execute with a click of your fingers, exclie with but a flick of your eyes, the people would lay down their lives to protect you, The soldiers would fall on there swords if you where to ask it of them, anything you want, you ask, or you think will be done. You are the king." 

"Sometimes I don't feel like the king."

"You will. In time" He says but as he got up I heard a strange noise from outside the room clattering and yelling "What's happening out there?" He shouted I got up confused about what was going on until the soldiers brought a girl in, she wore an old moth-eaten dress, she looked as old as me, her hair dirty, her skin muddy, she was barefoot, the soldiers dragged her in holding her arms tightly, even if she screamed and tried to fight with them. 

"Let me go!" she screamed 

"Who are you?" He asked her 

"Let me go" she yelled again

"Barbarian slave daughter." The soldier said "she was trying to escape the palace kitchens" 

"So she's a slave girl." He says "... You wanted to feel more like the king, You may execute her"

"what?" I asked in shock

"All slaves who run from their masters are executed," He said "It's the law." He says handing me a sword "as a palace kitchen worker, she is yours. You can have the pleasure of executing her" 

I stared at the sword in my hand seeing my own reflection in it's blade, the sword felt heavy, too heavy for me. The men threw her onto the marble floor scraping her knees as she was thrown close to me 

"Please, Please you don't know what it's like, what they do to us, please I beg for mercy" she begged "Or if not mercy, then for peace." she whined tears running down her cheeks, I could see the fear in her eyes, she feared me. I looked closer at her noticing burns and scars on her skin, chains around her ankles, I held her sword close to her neck she bowed her head sniffling as she cried in fear 

"No," I said 

"My king?" He asked

"No.... Death, would be a... a uh quick punishment. for this slave." I said "She would not learn. death would be... a uhh... an escape for her"

"Then what is it you suggest my king?" 

"I would suggest for uhh. No, I would like. I would like her to be taken and cleaned, seen to medically, and for her to be put to work, here in the castle. Not the kitchens I would uhh like her to be put to work as my uhh my Handless, until her death" I said 

"Very good my King" He nodded "Death is not enough punishment for this slave. she will be put to work in your direct service my king, I am sure she will learn her lesson" He said "Take her away." He ordered 

"Thank you" she bowed tears of joy in her eyes as they dragged her away,

"I would like to return to my room now" I said "I uhh I am tried"

"Of course my king" He nods "I will walk you back"

"Of course" I nodded and he walked me with the soldiers along to my room, 

"my king? shall I send your new girl when she is ready?"

"Yes, Please do"

"If you would like a slave girl we can arrange that?"

"what do you mean?"

"If you'd like a slave girl, a concubine we can arrange that" 

"No, I just thought-"

"We will do as you ask my king." He nods before heading off into the palace, I went inside my room and stood a moment in the unearthly silence. 

I sat in the meeting hall confused exactly what was going on, my advisor seemed nervous, the guards held there weapons tight.

I glanced up and saw her, stood as she usually did in her long white dress, her hair perfect. It had been about five years since I spared her from death, she worked in the palace month by month getting more work at first the adviser made her simply my maid but I'm not sure what exactly she is now but it's rare in the day when she's not beside me. I smiled brefily at her and she smiled back nodding her head slightly to me I looked to my advisor and he seemed even more nervous

"Perhaps you should go my king" he says

"No thank you. I'd like to stay, to meet with them" I said

"Yes my king" he said sounding unhappy I heard steps down the corridor so I sat up in my chair unsure what exactly to expect.

The door opened to three burley men with black clothes, iron armor, and silver furs, red warpaint across the skin, they marched in handing weapons to there guard at the door.

"This? Little pipsqueak is the one I'm meeting with?" The man in the centre laughed

"You will respect the king" my advisor snapped

"I'll respect any man. Problem is this isn't a man, that, is a fucking puppy. Groomed and trained to sit and stay, only reason that little shits king instead of me is that he happened to plop out the right pussy" he said coming over and taking a seat across from us

"You will not speak this way against the king"

"Why? What's he gonna do? Cry? Send his guard boys on me" he laughs

"Please. We have business to discuss' I said

"Ooohhh look at that boys. Baby can talk" he laughs "how old are you now, thirteen, fourteen?"

"Fifteen" I answered

"Umm. I was a dad and a king by your age, then again I didn't have the servents to feed me and wipe my ass" he laughs

"We have much to discuss" my advisor told him

"I don't like discussing, I like settling things out there, like a real man." He said "some food? For my men?" He asked so servents began bringing them food and wine my advisor spoke to the men in great lengths but I understood very little off it exactly all I knew was he was watching me I didn't know what to do about it, but then I noticed he was not only looking at me, "she have a name?" He asked

"She's a slave girl" my advisor answered

"Oooh. Is she now." He smirked looking at her in a strange way "Don't you usually keep the slaves away from the king? Come here darling" he called

"No. She works for me, she's nothing to do with you" I said

"Works for you? She's a slave girl"

"She was caught trying to escape the kitchens, the king thought a quick execution to merciful so put her to work"

"Put her to work?" He laughs "oooh don't you worry, I understand" he smirked "works for you does she? Tell me... She a good worker,"

"Yes" I nodded

"Ohh I bet she is."

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, I'm not as stupid as your fucking nanny, you only put her to work because you've got a hard on for her"

"I have not!"

"Don't you? Ooohh you haven't, not yet anyway, your ball haven't even dropped yet have they little king. But you like her"

"This is irrelevant, we are here to discuss" my advisor began

"I know we are, but teasing my nephew is much more fun" he laughs "come on let's get home, wives got my dinner on for me, can't be late. Her legs will get tried being open waiting for me" he smirked before him and his men headed out.

I sighed a little as I woke up, the sun blocked out by my curtains, I was awake earlier then usual, not sure why. The room was quiet, the feeling of the soft covers against me a few birds outside the windows tweeting in the morning light. I heard steps down the corridor but thought little off it, I heard a door open and close again making me wrap myself up more not yet wanting to exist my cosy bed. I heard gentle steps across my floor and then the curtains opening light flooding in

"Good morning my king," a familiar voice smiled I smiled a little and sat up in my bed seeing her stood there in her usual dress, her hair perfect and a small smile across her lips, her chain around her neck I had often asked them to remove it but they said she needed it so people still knew she was a slave. I sat up streching a little in the bed

"Good morning" I groaned

"It's a lovely sunny day my king" she smiled going and opening the other curtains

"It is. Is that why you smile today?'

"I smile for many reasons my king" she said "would you like to eat? Or bathe first?"

"Ummm can't I have five more minutes?" I whined

"I'll go prepare your bath" she said before she hurried off to the other room I sat trying to wake myself up a little more I couldn't stop my mind from racing, I felt so strange, I couldn't deny, I liked her. But I knew nothing could come of it so I did my best to ignore it. "You're baths ready my king" she smiled

"Excellent you uhh you can go"

"Why my king you usually don't ask that if me?"

"I know, I just uhh, alone today. If i may"

"Of course my king" she nodded going to make my bed I went quickly to the bathroom shutting the door seeing the hot steamy bath she had prepared for me so I did all my other business and then climbed into the hot water doing my best to wash when suddenly the door opened it was my advisor

"My king, what are you doing?"

"I thought I would. Myself today"

"No, no, washing and cleaning are jobs for slaves not for kings. Girl come"

"No"

'why not? Has this slave girl offended you?"

"No, no she hasn't I just...." I began "I don't want ...her to see me" I whispered

"I see. Girl. Do your job" he told her

"But my Lord the-"

"Did I permit you to speak!" He yelled at her "complete your work, I do not want another situation like this again, or I'll send you down to the amours"

She nodded and he left, so she came taking the cloth and slowly washing me being careful not to look at me and I did my best not to look at her feeling her hands across my skin was enough to make me want to scream

"What did he mean?" I asked

"I'm sorry my king?'

"The amours? What does that mean?"

"The amours is where the soidlers spend there days my king,"

".... What happens to slaves there?"

"Depends"

"On what?'

"If they like them"

"If they do?"

".... They uhh, they use the slaves my king"

"Use? How so?"

"For pleasure"

"And if they don't like you?"

"Target practice"

"Do they often send slaves there?"

"Yes my king, my mother was sent there"

"And what happened to her?'

"Well, I'm here" she said

"They... A soidler used your mother, and once born you where sent to the kitchens?"

"Not at first my king, first I was taken to the laundry, all the slave children go to the laundry, they said it's a job for those with little hands, then I went to the library but they didn't like me, so they sent me to the kitchens"

"What did they do to you? In the kitchens?"

"... A king shouldn't hear such things'

"A king wants to"

"Come, you'll be late" she says getting faster with her washing but I felt her hand on my stomach and I stopped her hand "what is it my king?'

"Not there. Please. Not you"

"Why ever not?"

".... Anyone, but you."

"Yes my king" she nods hurrying out of the bathroom, I finished up myself and went to the bedroom where the bed was made and breakfast in the table

"Could I uhh perhaps. Do myself today?" I asked her as she was in the wardrobe

"Very independent today my king" she smiled "perhaps not, wouldn't want my Lord to anger"

"I suppose so" I sighed standing by the wardrobe as I usually did

"What would you like to wear today my king?"

"Uhh, I don't know, you can pick for me" I smiled

"Alright" she giggled picking me out some clothes and slowly dressing me as she always did, I tried my best not to think about her hands all over me.

"I think I know why you kept getting moved"

"Do you my king?"

"You ask alot of questions? You ask your commanders and even your king? You speak back? Quite an insulent little thing aren't you"

"I'm sorry my king, I will learn to remain silent"

"No," I told her taking her hand "I like it. You're the only person Ive ever met who questions Me, who doesn't blindly obey what I say, I... I love that about you"

"Thank you my king" she blushed "is there anything else my king?" She asks as we finished up, I couldn't help looking at her sweet smile, the rose glow in her cheeks, her beautiful dress, I didn't know what I was thinking but I moved forward kissing those sweet lips, she tasted like soap, like daises and grapes. She kissed back clearly excited but tenderly not wanting to go any faster or harder then I was the room silent but the clacking of our kisses and the sound of my own breathing in my head till I pulled back "I'm sorry I shouldn't-"

"Sorry? What on earth are you sorry for? I kissed you I should be the one apologizing"

"Please, don't apologise. Tis a great honor to be kissed by a king" she blushed

"Well I am honoured to kiss such a lovely lady." I smiled "and, please. When were alone, call me Thomas"

"Very well Thomas. Y/n"

"Y/n, that's the most beautiful name I've ever ever heard" I smiled "and uhh that was my... First kiss"

"Well, your very good" she smiled "you'll will be late to meet your advisor" she said going to the door

"Y/n." I said stopping her

"Yes?"

"Kiss me again?"

"Yes my king" she smiled...

[ushiwakatrash]

On your knees, King! (Part 2)

Bakugou x reader, Todoroki x reader

Fantasy AU

!Warnings!: Swearing, betrayal, lil dash of angst, shitty writing

Synopsis:

Bakugou is the esteemed King of the Kingdom of Barbarians and because he succeeded in ruling the lands that were once governed by the Yuuei Kingdom, an offering must be made for the peace of the people. As the so-called ‘black sheep’ of the royal family, the King of Yuuei a.k.a. your father, offered you--naming you the most precious thing he could give; but you know the truth behind his words.

PART II 

← Part 1           Part 3 →

The whole night Prince Shouto held you in his arms, gently running his hand through your hair as he cooed you to stop crying.

“Oh Sho, if only our engagement was not cancelled then I could have been happy to live the rest of my days with my best friend. But alas, this is only wishful thinking”

These words struck his heart as he yearned for the princess even more. His heart had been hers to begin with, ever since they were kids, ever since they met one beautiful morning in the garden where their parents often had tea.

Knowing she was to be given away when she was supposed to be his pained him. She saw the marriage as her marrying her best friend but for him, there is no one else who he is willing to grow old with rather than (Y/n).

A bitter taste was left in his mouth and before he even knew it, a tear started to roll down his face. The world had always been unfair for him and he almost had the only thing he could ever want, the Barbarians had to take that away from him too.

“Princess, I am still hoping your father changes his mind. I will try to convince him as best as I can” Todoroki softly said. He knew the chances were too slim but he still had to try.

His last string of hope got cut when he saw the broken smile of the princess. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do at this point. My father has already signed the papers. My life is over, Sho.”

“Don’t say that, milady. It may not be so bad. For sure they do things differently but I know they won’t treat you poorly. You are a grand token from the Kingdom of Yuuei and the um... future... queen of the.. Barbarians” The prince’s hands fell to his side and he balled his fists.

“You dont deserve this, (Y/n). I truly wish I could do something. I can’t give you up to that unsightly king! I... just can’t take it..” slowly Shouto got up and turned his back on you.

“Sho, what’s wrong?” he started walking towards the door and flashed a small sad smile “I don’t want to lose you, but it looks like the future is set on doing so. Rest, (Y/n). Goodnight.”

Silence surrounded the room and the princess was left alone to her thoughts once more. “Should I make that Bakugou hate me so he would want to get rid of me? Oh wait, if I become a nuisance, he might just go for my head!” she said to herself.

“If I do what he wishes, he might treat me well...” all that thinking and crying finally took over on the girl’s body and soon enough she fell asleep.

--

As the Prince excited her room, he felt his legs stagger and when he was already further down the hallway, his knees finally gave up. Immense pain clouded his heart as the news finally hit him.

He grew up with her, he shared his pain with her and he was ready to see her seated beside him when it was their time to rule over their empires. All because of that stupid king, all of his dreams were crushed.

Memories of them came flashing in his mind and he smiled a little when he remembered the time he fell in love. 

--

“I can’t stand how you look like your father!” those were the words he heard before the scorching heat of boiling water kissed his delicate face. What hurt the most was that his own mother was behind the ugly burn mark that’s starting to eat away his pale skin.

“AAAAAAAAAAH! NO PLEASE MOTHER, STOP IT!!!” the child prince’s cries filled up the whole room. The queen couldn’t believe what she had done and dropped everything she was holding. One of the guards herd the commotion and stood frozen as he saw the scene unfolding in front of him.

“M-ma’am, what happened here?” his shaky voice asked. “I- I d-didn’t mean i-it! It’s his father’s fault! Everything is his father’s fault!” Soon more guards entered the room and some escorted the prince to find medical assistance.

“Get the king, quick! We don’t know if we can arrest her majesty or not”

King Enji, mostly known as King Endeavor, quickly rushed to the room where his knights led him and saw the mess his wife had made. Knowing how big of a scandal this would cause, he announced that the queen had gone ill but in fact, she was hidden away in a room deep in the palace where only selected maids were to tend to her.

If ever palace staff were to spread the truth about Rei Todoroki, their heads would be chopped off in an instant. Out of the fear of the king and of course their lives, no one said a word.

--

When Princess (Y/n) heard the news she quickly dragged her personal maid out of the castle and demanded for a carriage pronto. Her palace staff scrambled to their feet to comply to the princess in a hurry. 

“Quick, to the Todoroki Castle, something bad had happened. Please sir make the carriage fly if you have to!” she pleaded. They knew their sweet little princess never demanded anything from them so this must have been a real emergency. 

When they reached their destination, (Y/n) jumped out of their vehicle and run towards her friend’s room. Her visit startled the maids because she had come without prior notice.

In a loud authoritative (but cute) voice she ordered the maids to immediately take her to Shoto. Without even knocking, the princess busted the door open and took the boy in his arms.

Instantly, Shoto felt the comfort the princess was trying to give. He cried as she cooed sweet words in his ear. When the prince calmed a little, the little girl cupped his tear stained face and gave a little kiss on his nose.

“You know Sho, you’ll always be the most handsome prince to me. Your face may change but you’ll always be my Sho!” she then kissed his scar and engulfed him in another hug “You’ll always be my prince Sho. It’s okay to get hurt and cry but you have to pick yourself up too. How will my prince protect me if he keeps looking down?” the sweet girl then beamed at him.

Her contagious smile made way to his and he knew everything would be alright. The girl had said everything he needed to hear.

So when Shoto fell for her, he sure fell damn hard.

--

Back to the present, a red strong dragon had just landed in the balcony of the royal castle of the Barbarians. He roared to let his master know he was home.

“What did you see, Kirishima?” the King went to pet his mystical dragon. In human form, the dragon would be able to talk so after receiving his well earned pats on the head, Kirishima transformed to a young buff man with sharp hair as red as his beautiful scales.

The red head knelt on one knee and proceeded to tell King Bakugou the events that happened. “Oh so she and that Todoroki bastard are friends, huh? But really, a grown ass woman sleeping over at his fucking castle? Tch. I’d rather not have that dual color haired bastard taint what’s going to be mine!” the Barbarian King was not happy with the scenes relayed to him by his loyal steed.

“(Y/n)... you better toughen it up if you wanna stay a fucking queen in my palace.”

--

Taglist: @cathwritestragediesnotsins @itsmysticalmystery

Send a message if you want to be on the taglist ♥

[adler-obsessed]

Heyo, I’ve noticed in some of your posts about China that you seem to always hint about there being some kind of darkness within her? Like most other sp fans depict her as kinda a selfish bitch, but like you always paint her as very serene and yet there’s something just below the surface that isn’t so pretty and I think it’s a really interesting take on her. I was wondering whether you’d mind doing one of your awesome analysis posts on what gave you that impression, if it’s not too much to ask??

woo boy, this is gonna be a long one and sorry for the wait anon but exams were killing me and this one took a while to put together, but I hope you enjoy!

So, yeah I’ve always pictured China as a person who’s very much keeping her vicious nature under control and yet, sometimes there are moments we see a part of it come out and yeah, here’s me trying to explain that!

Alright, so there’s three main things that give me this impression - China’s inner monologues, descriptions of her by those who she previously worked with e.g. Eliza Scorn, and her combat style - I’ll go through each of these sections in depth.

China’s inner monologues:

One thing I find immensely interesting when it comes to China’s inner voice and/or dialogue is that it generally seems to be in conflict, mostly in the ways she wants to accomplish her goal - often when China was forced into action in phase one, one of the first things that always is mentioned is her doing something that she wouldn’t have done before/wasn’t her first thought when it came to handling the situation - often, her initial reaction is something much more violent, cruel and brutal. Often, she has to remind herself of her supposed facade, of her grace and serenity, before she acts in a slightly less violent manner than she was considering.

EXAMPLES:

Her finger hovered by her elbow. One twitch would be all it took, and the pain would rise so suddenly their hearts would burst. Instead, she flattened her hand...

She smashed his head into the wall. It was so satisfying, making them hurt.... she felt the power snap through him and his whole body jerked wildly and he collapsed. She looked down. So, so satisfying... she closed her eyes, relaxing.

“He will not condemn me for my past actions, so long as I don’t revert to the person I once was. The war with Mevolent changed everyone who fought in it. We each saw things in ourselves that we would rather not admit to.”

“You beat me last time because I had grown complacent,” she said softly. “I had lost my edge. But I’ve had a year to get my edge back. Feel how sharp I am, Eliza?”

“You do not want to upset me,” China said, pushing her cup to one side. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m upset.”

Indeed, we even see this conflict mentioned in her dialogue when she talks to Prave:

“You know,” China said, “there was a time when nobody dared threaten me. I just wouldn’t stand for it. The amount of people I killed, of bodies I twisted and bones I snapped, all because they had allowed their anger to momentarily overwhelm their good sense. I regret it all now, of course. I was out of control. I was indulging the darkness inside me far too often. I was not, Mr Prave, a very nice person. But I have changed. I have allowed the years to mellow me....

But every once in a while, I get the urge....The urge for destruction. The urge to hurt, maim, kill. It’s quite a thing, to experience that urge, to let it wash over you, to give in to it. It’s addictive. It’s all-consuming. You lose yourself to it. It’s quite, quite wonderful. I can feel it, even as I speak, tapping around the edges of my mind, trying to prise me open, slip its fingers in. And it would be so easy to let it happen. But we’re all like that, aren’t we? We’re all barbarians at our core. We’re all savage, murderous beasts. I know I am....I know I roar very loudly indeed. How about you? Do you think you can match me?”

Simply put, China’s true nature is one a lot more impulsive and a lot more brutal than the facade she puts up.

Descriptions by others:

Secondly, one of the key things that crops up when people from her past describe her is her inclination towards violence and action - China’s neutrality is a far more foreign concept to them than it is to us as the readers, and this really does show:

EXAMPLES OF HER NATURE:

“China, because she enjoyed that kind of thing, went after your wife. By all accounts, it was a knock-down, drag-out fight.”

“Look at her face, Prave. Isn’t it a beautiful face? Isn’t it the most beautiful face you ever did see? But beauty is so deceptive. Looking at her now, you’d never guess that she was calculating the most efficient way of killing us, would you? There’s not a hint of that in those startlingly pale blue eyes. If we didn’t know better, we’d still be gazing at her, falling in love all over again, and she could walk right up and stab us through the heart, and we’d never see it coming. All because of that beautiful face.”

“What’s in the past is in the past,” China said. “I’m going to end up killing every one of you for all this, and one more name added to the list won’t make much difference.” Gallow looked at her, then at Scorn. “I thought you said she was under control.”

EXAMPLES TO DO WITH NEUTRALITY:

“It’s time to take off this mask you wear, to end this charade. You need to take your place.”

“My place is right here.”

“We both know that’s not true. You could no more turn your back on the Faceless Ones than I could. I have seen your devotion.”

“My devotion, as you call it, has waned.”

Vengeous shook his head. “You have sworn your allegiance to the dark gods. You cannot simply change your mind.”

“I expected more from you, China. When you left us, I thought you’d be back. No one could do the things you’d done and then walk away. I didn’t think it was possible.”

Practically all of them can’t believe her passivity, because to them, that isn’t the China they know and fought beside for however long. Instead, the China they describe reveals a much more darker nature than the one we see - a China who wasn’t valued because of the information she had or her manipulation of others - a China who was valued for her effective and brutal action against the cause’s enemies.

Indeed, when considering China’s role during the war it becomes much clearer that she was ultimately valued for her devotion and ferociousness, her brutality and her effectiveness

Her fighting style:

Lastly, that leads us to the final thing - China in combat.

Now, one of the criticisms I saw after Bedlam that surprised me is that people felt that when China was fighting in some chapters, it felt too ‘Tanith’ or wasn’t elegant enough.

But the thing is, China’s fighting style has always been extremely rough.

EXAMPLES:

Strength flooded her body and, when Mist reached for her, China grabbed her wrist and twisted, locking Mist’s arm straight and forcing her to her knees... China struck the back of her elbow. Mist shrieked and the elbow shattered and shards of bone ruptured the skin.

China parried the blow and chopped at Tanith’s bicep. Tanith back-pedalled, her right arm hanging uselessly, and China stepped in quickly and caught her with a solid haymaker to the jaw.... China turned her attention back to Tanith. She activated the symbols on both of her palms, then stepped up to clamp her hands on either side of Tanith’s head. Tanith arched her back and screamed.

She hurled daggers of red light and dived a rider who came at her with a sword. She slammed her forehead into his face.... “Skulduggery?” China demanded, breaking a rider’s wrist and jabbing her fingers into his eyes.

China hit him from the side... In an instant, China was leaning over him, her hand pressing against his forehead. He screamed, then went silent, but China kept her hand on his forehand, making his body jerk.

The sigils on China’s knuckles flashed into his line of sight right before she broke his nose... her fist crunched into his side, smashing ribs.

There seems to be an assumption that because China is seemingly filled with grace that her fighting style would also be this simple, effortless thing.

And in a way, it is, when one considers her discipline, with her sigils meaning she can easily defend herself in a moments notice. But China’s fighting style has never been about grace - it’s always been about effectiveness, taking down her opponent in the quickest way. Indeed, Eliza Scorn even mentions this:

“Looking at her now, you’d never guess that she was calculating the most efficient way of killing us.”

And, very often, the first thing we see China lose when she enters a fight is that grace as she practically springs into action.

EXAMPLES:

China, meanwhile, was getting down and dirty with the remaining mage. They rolled across the ground, China’s hair in her face. Finally, China simply grabbed the sorcerer’s head and slammed it down into the concrete, once, twice. Satisfied that her opponent was no longer a threat, she got up, breathing hard and looking angry.

All of these examples clearly indicate just how brutal her fighting technique is and indeed how brutal her natural response to things is.

Overall:

One of things I notice most when people simplify China’s characterisation is that they turn her into a weak, vain bitch who isn’t able to defend herself or a princess who views violence or at least being involved in combat as beneath her - the truth is, China has always been a paradox: The beautiful woman with the ugly nature, the self serving who was once devoted, the graceful creature who easily becomes the brutal killer.

Another thing people seem to forget that the China we meet in Book One is very different to the China the people who she spent the majority of her youth and adult life with expect- her neutrality, her commitment to her library and indeed her self serving nature are all very foreign to them - perhaps we should all consider why and also what she was like before she decided to leave the conflict.

Part of the reason why I love China is that there are so many hidden and unexplored parts of her personality and nature that are only hinted at - she’s not a black and white character, and often people’s perception of her changes when they try to simplify her character into something black and white.

And yeah, that’s the basics behind this headcanon!! Hope it all makes sense and if not, feel free to drop another ask or dm!!

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 12. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: Here we go for the first time.

Word Count: 2.6 K

Warnings: Full of nervousness.

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six  Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

"You've told something to him?" - You looked Bucky in the eyes with a serious frown. You almost exploded after you hung up on Steve's call.

Steve Rogers asked you out after soon to be six months of testing. You were out of your mind. The wanted to go fucking out with you on a date. You immediately called to Deena and she was excited as well, she told Bucky in the next few seconds because he was apparently staying over at her place.

"He finally got his thoughts together." - You heard Bucky yell. The excitement was shaded by a little frown. Was this Bucky's work? Did he nudge Steve to do that? That was the question you were thinking about the whole night. So naturally, when James drove Deena to the office, that was the first thing you asked. You basically jumped at him.

"What? No. I didn't do anything." - Bucky smiled with all of his nonchalance. You were sure that he's lying. One hundred percent sure. You began to know his expression when he was there almost every day. Even Peter befriended him by the course of the time. And when you texted Peter those exciting news, even he thought that James worked some behind the scenes magic.

"Yeah. Right. If you've told him anything, you can tell me." - You said with a slight furrow. Bucky smiled widely again.

"I just encouraged him. That's all that I've done. A slight friendly help." - Bucky answered and took another bite from his plum. He already gave you yours - so you two just stood in the middle of the office and chew on plums while talking. You were waiting for some papers the other girls will give you to work the economic accountant magic with them.

"I hope you didn't make him do it. Because then it would be really cringy." - You raised your eyebrows. Then the door to your office opened and May with Peter was coming in. Peter had a day off of school, so May told him to come over. He liked to do some paperwork to help you and the other girls.

Although Peter was a seriously chaotic person, he was good with papers. He found paperwork pretty fun. He waved at your and James, having his back lazily over his shoulder and he was grinning like an idiot.

"What you're doing here? You're having a crush talk or what? I can discuss with you." - Peter finished your circle of losers and he got a plum himself from Bucky as well.

"You do, youngling?" - Bucky raised his eyebrows playfully. You just nodded with a serious face, finishing your first plum. You were sure that Bucky will restock his supplies the very same evening and you'll have two others.

"Oh yeah, he does. Our Lil' Pete can talk for hours about his Liz." - You nudged his side. Peter looked at May, he was horrified that she could've heard something, but he exhaled loudly when he was sure that May is still oblivious about Liz.

"Shut the hell up, dude. May would larb to tell everybody then." - Peter held your shoulder tightly and rolled his eyes.

"Should I say it louder then?" - You teased Peter and everyone giggled when Peter tensed for a minute. - "Come, dummydumdum. We'll go through some archives. I need to find some financial report from the last quarter." - You bobbed your head in the direction of the archive room and smiled at James as you left him in the middle of the room with a swift conversation.

You were really grateful to Buck for what he has done in the end. He was a good friend to both you and Steve.

---

The evening when Steve was about to leave for your date, he was worse than a mother who had her first child. He matched together a few outfits, freaked out as hell and talked faster then Eminem rapped.

"Should I take a tux or not, should I go formally dressed or should I go just..." - Steve mumbled to himself and Sam watched him intensely ever tho he had an opened newspaper with a seriously interesting article, but let's be honest - this was way funnier.

Sam was sad about Bucky being absent. This would make Bucky laugh so much. So Sam had to keep his eyes opened to remember every little detail so he could tell Bucky.

"Should I use cologne?" - Steve stopped all of a sudden, shirtless with his hands on his hips and a frown, looking directly at Sam.

"Yo talkin' to Mr. Match Maker?" - Sam pointed at himself and Steve nodded with an innocent frown. He was so pure it hurt. - "So yo talkin' to me. Let me see what ya have in stock." - Sam stood up from his chair, entering Steve's room slowly, licking his lips.

He watched Steve's outfits like a fashion disaster. This old man had a funny idea of being seductive or sexy. Sam looked at Steve with a question in his eyes but Steve just shrugged his shoulders.

"Ya don't mean any of this seriously, do ya?" - Sam asked with a smile. Steve frowned even more at that point. - "Man, I'll teach ya somethin', alright? These would maybe impressed ladies back in your day, but now it's the 21st century. You're a handsome, well-built hunk. Don't be afraid of showing some of dat meat to your girl." - Sam opened Steve's not so huge wardrobe without asking, taking one specific shirt out.

Yeah, Steve took some shirts out, but those were terrible. This one was sewed from a silky material, it was in the shade of a dark ocean blue and it made Steve seriously appeal like the biggest trophy in the game. It was a bit lose around Steve's shoulders, but tight around his waist and hips, bringing attention to it.

"Are you sure about this one?" - Steve asked and he was not entirely convinced by Sam's devilish grin.

"Are ya blind? Look at it, boy. This is your key to her heart and her panties." - Sam gave him the shit to Steve. His face was deadly serious at that moment because he didn't catch that it's a joke from Sam.

"Sam, I don't it's appropriate to talk about this stuff right now." - Steve mumbled with a dead face.

"I'm joking, ya moron. But don't you try to make an idiot out of me. You thought about that nasty shit. Ya a man, so don't ya try to play that saint card on me." - Sam laughed and fetched him old jeans which were practically worn out. They used to be from Wrangler, but at that point, you could probably easily miss it.

"And wear those. Just nudge the shirt inside on the front, let it be a bit loosed around the hips and that's that. Let the magic of your charisma work. You'll be good." - Sam patted his friend's shoulder and went to the table again. Steve was redder than some bio tomato at that point of the conversation.

He would not say it out loud at any costs. Of course, he had thought about you in that sense. In the sexual one, of course. You were sweet, unintentionally racy and sexy in his eyes. For example, when you were sending him some selfies from the bed, all messed up, your hair fell out of the bun, your lips curled in a smile, sun shining on your skin.

In his opinion, that was way better than some Maxim or Playboy full of those models who did it mostly for the money. You were natural, so... Normal and yet you didn't stop to take his breath away.

"You didn't answer my question." - Steve leaned into the doorframe and Sam raised his eyes up from the newspaper while drinking some black coffee. - "Should I wear some cologne?"

"I don't know. Maybe a bit of aftershave water or balm, that smell usually goes well with the ladies, but I'm not entirely sure about that cologne. That can be a bit too much for now." - Sam answered honestly without thinking.

"And are flowers still a thing these days?" - Steve asked before he left the room completely. Sam had a poker face at that moment.

"Ya know. We are barbarians, on the first date, we take them out with a club and then we drag them to out the cave, ya nonchalant ass prince. Was that question even necessary? We, as real men, value our women. Flowers are still a real thing.” - Sam answered unbelievable tone of his voice. 

“Flowers, okay.” - Steve nodded and pointed at Sam when he slowly closed the door to his bedroom so he could calmly dress. 

---

You were a lot of more ok that poor Steve. For you, it wasn't the first date from the century ago like it was for him. To be fair, you dated two years ago for the last time and that guy was a dick to say at least. He acted like a complete idiot with no sense for public opinion whatsoever. And he came dressed like a fucking Texas cowboy.

You were sure that this will be different. But nobody could stop you from being at least partially worried. You stood in front of your mirror in a loose black blouse, jeans that reached your waist and some boots on slight platformed high heels and you looked at yourself with a frown. Was it showing too much for his taste or should you show something more? The slight valley showing your cleavage being pushed up was pretty visible, but nothing more could be seen. Only your naked shoulders.

Some scenarios crossed your mind - what if he takes you to the church? That was the most obvious bullshit you could come up with, but you were worried about your shoulders and jeans not being accepted in that scenario. Or a fancy restaurant? Or... Your head was full of what-if plans which were totally shitty, but you just couldn't stop yourself from thinking about them.

Let me say one thing as the narrator as I am, girl, you were looking burning hot. Trust me, I'm into girls, I can judge those things. Only you knew which makeup suits you the most, your hairstyling was absolutely adorable and you looked like a cute little bean.

Even girls in your group chat confirmed it. And Deena's text could be count as two because of course, she had shown Bucky. They sent a selfie back - they were eating grapes, not plums for this instance, Deena had a creepy black facemask on and she even made Bucky wear one. His was the typical white one; but while Deena looked like a demon, he had his typical big smile on and those blue eyes were piercing you even through the display, his hair somehow messily.  She overall made him do such girly things, whether he did it willingly or not.

But their compliment made you flattered and confident as you texted them back in a short text. Maybe that's why the bell surprised you as much as it did. Steve was there physically, standing in front of your house, waiting for you. That made your head stop for a second. Steve, a real one, was just waiting outside for you to come down. 

It was your completely first time seeing him, seeing his face and his overall look just as he was, you were about too see just him and nothing else. Just the way you’ve sighed and drooled about the whole time; the thing you’ve imagined for so long was just at the gasp of your fingers. The battle was on and you had no intentions to lose it. 

You felt strangely numb when you checked your apartment for the last time and then locked your door. It was the jitters hugging you everywhere on your body, that made your fingers tremble and breath to be stuck more and more. The last steps felt like the biggest hell because it was so close that you could just hold your hand, opened the front door and opened them up.

You were acting like a child, just about to slap yourself to concentrate and behave like the adult you are. So you opened the door up and let me say - he was huge. It made you shocked, surprised. You just stood there for a few seconds, watching the enormous silhouette of his back.

Even this man’s back was impressive as hell, he was huge and truly muscly. Naturally, your eyes slowly fell down to his butt. And that butt was a really nice butt, round and nice to look at.

“So that's you? I am still not allowed to see your face?” - You laughed nervously and just as he heard your voice, Steve stopped to look around the street and turned his attention only to you.

You were much shorter and your body was gentle, just as you would expect with a woman’s body. You took his breath away for a few seconds. 

But you studied him with a frown. A huge puget of roses was the first thing you’ve noticed in his hands. But then you travelled higher and higher on his body. And when you saw the face for the first time, your jaw just dropped down in shock. 

That wasn't just some random Steve. Nor some random Steve Rogers. This was the Steve Rogers, the Captain America you’ve seen on so many news, on so many internet pages, his photos were everywhere. 

Well, that must've been destiny pulling a prank on you - a seriously not funny prank on you. You knew him from the many texts you’ve exchanged. He was a romantic, gentle soul, so well mannered man that it was almost unreal. You almost didn't understand the situation at all. So, was it him, Captain America, all the time, or was it just a coincidence. Maybe Steve Rogers was around the corner and Mr America was just waiting for that hot widow on the second floor? 

“I'm so sorry, Captain. I... I thought you were someone different.” - You stuttered, ready to go back to your flat, ready to let him leave. But his warm, huge hand gently touched your arm. 

His magical made you weak - he had a boyish, bright smile and baby blue eyes. You felt like a fangirl who encountered their idol. He was really beautiful when he was leaning forward to you, his hand was warm and gentle on your arm. Captain was handsome, he reminded you of Adonis, the Greek god himself. 

You couldn't find the words to describe him at all. Captain looked like a man, but he had the energy of a boy in him. But somehow, even though he was tall and huge, he was so warm and nice, it just shined from his eyes. You liked him.

“I'm pretty sure you’re the one who am I waiting for.” - He stopped you from going back inside, making you close your eyes and giggle as you definitely closed the door, stepping on a socially acceptable distance from his body.

“So you’re Captain America.” - Your cheeks reddened and you covered your face in your palms. You giggled like hell. - “Oh my God.”

[heylir]

(Prompt) Birds

Somewhat weird text with weird concept. The last part appeared already in the process as the comic page with library came up.

Cold gusts of autumn wind tore leaves from the trees, with sad cries of flying away birds accompanied its sobs. Sitting on a bench Ben looked up at a dark V of birds passing slowly across the sky.

"What is it?" he asked Verity.

She glanced briefly, "Wild geese. They fly southward."

"What for?"

"Escaping from Christmas," she chuckled.

Ben wrinkled his nose as he usually did when Vee said funny things. "But seriously?"

"There're warm countries in the South. They'll winter there and come back. Most birds do this." She looked up to the sky. "Would you like to fly, Benji? Like them, to Africa and back?"

He shrugged, "I think so... but how? Grandad Victor didn't want to finish his flying ship?"

"Nope," Vee kicked a little stone with the toe of his shoe. "Says, an outdated construction. He wants something faster. Works on sudden jumps, to make them longer, safe and more precise. Wouldn't it be great, wherever you want to be, you just go there?"

"Would be nice," agreed Ben. "Not so interesting. What use will be there in expeditions? If you can just appear at that place." Ben paused for thought. "Though... it won't work with the Third Anchor still? Too much of magic disturbances around it."

"Would you like to sail to the Third Anchor?" Vee asked, teasing him slightly.

"I'd like to read about it in books, every bit of everything. But for that, someone must sail to it and write about that." Ben looked up. "I wonder if any birds fly over the Anchor. Could they tell about it..."

Ben hated medicals. He can tell it was the thing he hated the most in his life as a student. It's why he went at it in the morning of its first day. In addition, he hoped for the fewer people would be there at that time, and it was so.

The procedure took no more than half an hour and went as expected. At the final stage, as usual, a wizard medic told Ben to roll up his sleeve and put a magic-circled disk to Ben's arm. His skin got tingled, there was a flink, then the disk beeped. The medic removed it and looked at the readings.

"Category C," he snorted. "Now what do these people even do there?"

Ben could stop his facial muscles from betraying his feelings. He knew that his face expressed nothing. It had always been his way of self-defence, an sure one, the only one — till Verity taught him some different ones. But they couldn't be used all the time, not in cases like this.

"Thackerey is one of the most studious students," the lecturer in the magic history said drily, from behind the medic's back. The rules demanded someone of the college staff present at the medicals.

"No doubt," the medic smiled sneeringly. "What else could this kind do?"

"We are quite satisfied with our student contingent," the lecturer remarked stiffly.

"Every man thinks his own geese swans," the medic wrote down Ben's readings into his card. "Of course, it isn't the Widdershins university, you must be content with what there is."

Ben saw that the lecturer's face became expressionless, too, and he couldn't be silent anymore.

"Geese can be useful, too," he stated. "It is said they saved Rome from the barbarian invaders... sir."

Unperturbed, the medic just looked through Ben and dismissed him. But Ben could see the lecturer smiling a bit and a student, who waited her turn, giving him the thumbs-up.

The part of Ben's job in the library he loved the least was the service to readers. It wasn't about freshmen who looked at catalogue boxes like they were differential equations (is it even possible to finish school without visiting some library?). Not about professors who had fathomed mysteries of magic and wasn't able to understand elementary things: that it is impossible to get a rare volume from "deeps" funds in a minute or even five minutes, and this fact can't be changed by the most extreme urgency or all of the academic distinctions or the magic spell "I just need to look at it". Not about readers of any age and ranks who filled in halves of order forms stubbornly in different ways, never mind instructions on forms, written up examples and his verbal warnings.

No, it was small routine things. The problem was...

Ben looked at a student girl who stood hesitant nearby the serving stand. It was a bad sign because ones who didn't know what to do but knew what they wanted would rush to librarians directly. Those who knew nothing at all usually hung around the doorway.

“Can I help you?” Ben asked politely, still hoping for the better.

“I just want to ask... are you Benjamin Thackerey?”

“I am,” Ben admitted, with a resigned inner sigh, because it was more concise and proper answer than, “My badge says so.”

“The very one? Who saved the University on All Sins’ Day?”

“I wasn’t alone,” Ben replied a bit stiffly.

“I know! Sidney Malik was here, too, we used to be in the same year!.. But it is you, yes?”

Ben simply nodded and started to turn the list of possible scenarios and his responses over in his mind.

Some people began to thank or praise him, making Ben wish to hide under the stand. Fortunately, he realised soon that “It was nothing” would be tactless. So he said just “I had good teachers.” and “I was in a good team.” Before students, he went into talking about the importance of good education and teamwork. No one was able to stand it longer than a minute.

Some people, with an interest Ben surely could understand, asked about other Deadlies. What worked there was “It’s a long story, and I’m paid not for talkings.”

And some people asked how Ben was able to win over Pride, and he said simply, “I don’t wish to discuss that.”

At that time the girl worked up the nerve and blurted out, “ Can I have your autograph?”

The fourth option, then. Ben took a sheet of paper from a pile and picked up a writing feather.

The senior librarian James Greene returned from his lunch at last to take Ben’s place.

“Too many fans?” he asked with sympathy. Ben made a vague gesture. “It’s not so bad,” he tried to cheer up Ben. “I think a few people would like to be in your place.”

“No,” Ben said earnestly. “No one wishes to be in someone else’s place, really. People just think that they want this. I did that, too,” he added in a low tone.

The librarian smiled, “Are you going to your lunch?”

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather work in the section of manuscripts and engravings. Miss Stevens says, they made no dedusting this year and the last inventory-revision was five years ago. Permission to deal with it in my free time?”

“No permission,” frowned Greene. “You’re supposed to work in your work time. To have lunch in your lunch break, and get rest in your free time. So you must eat at first, and then you may go to Ms Stevens, but don’t let her keep you till the end of your working day.”

“Yes, sir!”

Ben went vigorously on his usual way, now and then returned greetings from passing people. He felt nothing beyond a weak hunger and wishing to resume his work as soon as he has his lunch. The University stopped being the place that only fortunate ones, like Blake and Bryony, could belong to. There was no more envy or feeling of inferiority inside him, just eager anticipation of working with manuscripts. And the Main Hall was recalled without shame or pride, as an unpleasant, but a well-done job.

Ben didn’t feel like a goose between swans anymore.

[the-light-followed]

THE LIGHT FANTASTIC (1986) [DISC. #2; RINCEWIND #2]

“What shall we do?’ said Twoflower. ‘Panic?’ said Rincewind hopefully. He always held that panic was the best means of survival; back in the olden days, his theory went, people faced with hungry sabre-toothed tigers could be divided very simply into those who panicked and those who stood there saying ‘What a magnificent brute!’ and ‘Here, pussy.”

Rating: 5/10

Standalone Okay: No

Read First: ABSOLUTELY NO.

Discworld Books Masterpost: [x]

* * * * * * * * * *

If The Colour of Magic is a bad place to start reading Discworld, The Light Fantastic is 100% worse.  Not because it’s bad, because it’s absolutely an improvement on its predecessor.  It’s just that The Colour of Magic ends on a cliffhanger (only in the metaphorical sense; in the literal sense, Rincewind has just fallen off the cliff).  The Light Fantastic picks up exactly where it left off, with only a little exposition or explanation to soften the shift from one to the next.  I tend to think of The Light Fantastic as more like The Colour of Magic: Part 2, Now We’re Getting Somewhere, because, well, now we’re getting somewhere.

Folks, we finally have a cohesive, over-arching plot! We have stakes greater than “let’s not get killed by this latest thing that wants us dead!”  We have purpose, and drive, and successful barbarian heroes so old they lack teeth and have to make dentures out of diamond, and I love absolutely every bit of it!

In what will quickly become obvious is the norm for him, Rincewind’s life continues to be a series of upsetting things happening one after the other.  Some highlights from The Light Fantastic include:

Being forcibly teleported (back) onto the Disc by the parasitically-attached Great Spell living in his brain, after falling over the Rimfall.  Reality is completely rewritten to do this, but everything remains exactly the same except Rincewind’s new position clinging to the top of a pine tree.  (Twoflower gets dropped back onto the Disc as well, but that seems mostly incidental.)

Going to the land of Death while still alive, picking up his mostly-dead friend, and running right back out to the land of the living.

Camping in the mouth of a giant troll the size of a mountain, while being held captive by mercenaries.  Somehow only the mercenaries end up dead.

Being attacked by wizards and Things from the Dungeon Dimensions, and fighting said wizards and Things in life-or-death battles.

Using the most powerful magical book on the Disc, possibly the most magical item full-stop, and then afterwards, allowing said item to be eaten by the carnivorous sentient Luggage for safekeeping.  Rincewind ends up owning the Luggage before the end of the story—so technically, he still has this wildly dangerous book.

Oh, and saving the world, of course.  He also does that.

I love, love, love the way Pratchett writes ‘heroes’ vs. how he writes his protagonists.  Absolutely none of his protagonists are the stereotypical hero, and his stories are better for it.

Quick sidetrack to define terms: when I say ‘stereotypical hero,’ I’m talking about the kind of lawful good protagonists you see in most high fantasy adventure stories or superhero comics, the stuff with worldwide or even cosmic stakes.  They’re typically well-trained or have some kind of special skills, or they acquire special training/skills along the way.  They almost always set out specifically to save the world, and typically do not have any ulterior motives beyond it being ‘the right thing to do.’  Usually, they’re strong and rugged manly men with impressive jawlines.  I’m talking Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.  I’m talking Captain America and Superman.  I’m talking the real Boy Scout types.

Truth, justice, and apple pie—or whatever the regional-specific pastry of choice might be!

Pratchett’s heroes are not that.  They’re cowards.  They’re scared or confused or unprepared, or making the whole thing up as they go along.  They’re fools, alcoholics, con men.  They’re salty old ladies and know-it-all young girls.  If there is a stereotypical hero-type character, they’re going to be a foil for the actual main character, and they won’t stay perfectly pure and uncomplicated for long—I’m thinking specifically Carrot, though we’ll talk about him later when we get to the City Watch books.  

Here, what we get is Rincewind.  And he is as far from a stereotypical hero as it is possible to be, probably because he would have started sprinting full-speed away from the thought before anyone finished saying it out loud.  Rincewind doesn’t save the world because he suddenly found his courage, or developed bonus superpowers, or found some kind of magical sword to do the fighting for him.  (He actually found the sword back in The Colour of Magic, hated every second of it, and got rid of it as soon as possible.  Goodbye and good riddance to Kring the magic sword.)  He hasn’t secretly had the courage inside of himself all along.

Rincewind saves the world because he’s got nowhere left to run, and that’s excellent.

I’m going to save a lot of my rambling about Pratchett’s deconstruction of the concept of ‘heroes’ for when I get to Guards! Guards! and later City Watch books, since Carrot is, like I said, both the main example and the central thesis.  But it is very important for everyone to understand: for me, nothing is more satisfying from a literary perspective than knowing that, at the end of the Discworld series, coward and hero-only-by-accident-or-mistake Rincewind is one of the two people in contention for the spot as ‘ultimate savior of the world, the universe, and all of existence.’  The other is a teenage girl.

Honestly, the only reason I think Rincewind might edge her out for the title is because he technically saved a slightly larger slice of reality with this whole escapade.  In Tiffany’s defense, I’m 98% sure she hadn’t been born yet when this whole thing went down, so we really can’t blame her for not solving it first.  If she were there, she’d have it handled, and that’s just objective truth.

But Rincewind.  Rincewind.  At the end of The Light Fantastic, the dude’s spent two whole books screaming and running whenever something tries to kill/maim/eat/threaten him.  The audience has absolutely figured out by this point that while he’s smart and sarcastic and surprisingly speedy, he’s totally useless in a conflict.  His priority is saving his own skin, not dashing feats of derring-do or whatever it is heroes are supposed to do.

And yet with the end of the world looming, his back against the wall, and no real place left to run, when the Big Baddie demands that he give up the last Great Spell, the one last thing preventing the immediate destruction of everything and everyone, we get this from Rincewind:

“If it stops anywhere, it stops here, thought Rincewind. ��You’ll have to take it,’ he said. ‘I won’t give it to you.’”

And that’s it.  That’s what saves the world.  Not a stereotypical hero, not a hero of legend, not a mythic champion showing up for a final glorious battle—it’s a Pratchett hero.  It’s an everyday guy, a coward and a failure, dragged in by accident and against his will.  It’s an average person, nothing really special, who looks at something that he knows is wrong and that he’s sure will hurt him for disobeying.  And yet he still says no.  It stops here.

Even rats fight back, as Rincewind himself says.

This is the moment that really sells me on Rincewind’s character, every time.  Even before Pratchett was really taking Rincewind or the Discworld seriously, even while the whole thing is still one massive joke more often than not, he’s still given the readers a POV character who feels believably real.  He’s scared shitless, he’s tired, he’s sarcastic, and he doesn’t want to be there.  But that’s too damn bad, because he’s the one there, and if he doesn’t do this, no one else will.

And maybe Rincewind’s not Superman, but he still does it. He succeeds, he saves the day, and—despite everything—he’s somehow the hero of this story.  Screaming all the way, maybe, but he still gets it done.

[Paul Kidby does incredible Discworld art, including some of the amazing cover art for the books.  You can find a lot of it on his website— www.paulkidby.com.  This one,The Colour of Magic, stars Rincewind, Twoflower, and their dramatic escape from the Wyrmberg.]

While we’re on the subject of heroes, we can’t skip over Cohen the Barbarian, who makes his debut here in The Light Fantastic. Now, Cohen is technically a hero, but this is still not in the ‘stereotypical hero’ sense—it’s literally his job.  It’s the thing he writes in the little box marked ‘Occupation’ on his tax forms, or at least it would be if he actually paid any taxes.  Or if he actually wrote things down.  

For Cohen, being a hero is how he makes a profit and pays the bills, and he is very, very good at it.  That’s 100% objective truth, and I know that for sure, because the man is old as the hills and still gets into life-or-death fights about twice a day, and that’s the sort of thing that gets you dead very quickly if you aren’t very good at what you do.

But Cohen still isn’t a stereotypical hero.  He does a lot of looting and pillaging, and his body count over the Rincewind books is—wow, it’s up there.  It’s a real doozy.  It’s hard to call his work heroism when it’s hardly a smidge to the left of repeated, outright murder.  I’ll probably circle back around to this in Interesting Times and The Last Hero, because there are some really interesting points made there about the ways that Cohen and his contemporaries play at heroes and villains like they’re a sort of performance they’re putting on rather than a moral act or a choice made out of necessity. But I will say now that putting Cohen in the same storylines as Rincewind really does put both characters into a more complex and interesting light.  Rincewind, the coward-not-hero, and Cohen, the fearless warrior, can kind of play off of each other.

It just goes to show Pratchett’s grasp of people as people, and not unidimensional cardboard cutouts.  Nobody’s always right.  Nobody is always wrong.  And real people don’t always stand up to perfect, pure concepts of what we think they should be.

Also, since Cohen is about a billion years old, we get little gems like his toothless lisp before he picks up some dentures, a concept that Twoflower brings with him from the Counterweight Continent.  (Or, as Cohen calls them, dine chewers.  That, friends, is a pune, or a play on words.)  Also, because he’s Cohen and therefore a dramatic bastard, the dentures are solid diamond.  It’s not as if the man can’t afford it, I guess?

I do want to take a little side trip into some other new details that pop up in The Light Fantastic, specifically the more in-depth stuff about Unseen University and the wizards.  The wizards are a lot of fun in the early Discworld books, specifically if you’re really bloodthirsty, because up until Ridcully arrives in Moving Pictures there’s quite a lot of turnover in Unseen University staff. The wizards are backstabbing bastards early on, and it’s almost jarring to compare the shifty, power-hungry jerks in The Light Fantastic and Sourcery to the fat, lazy hedonists they’ll become. We do get an impression of them as a collective that will stay pretty consistent as we move forward: their values, their skills, the way they do magic.

This is important not only because it establishes a lot of lasting detail for stories involving Rincewind, the University, and the city of Ankh-Morpork, but also because we’re about to get our first glimpse of the witches.  (Hey-o, here comes Equal Rites!)  With a lot of this stuff mapped out in advance, it makes it easier to run a compare-and-contrast of what’s going on with the two main schools of magic users on the Disc, what’s different between them, what’s the same—and the positives and negatives in them both.  (Again, hey-o, Equal Rites!  That all is about to be the whole damn point.)

I think it’s also fun to note that The Light Fantastic features the brief run of Galder Weatherwax as Archchancellor of the Unseen University, A.K.A. He Who Dies So Granny Weatherwax Can Have His Frankly Excellent Name.  Granny Weatherwax is the steel-souled spine of the witches, and the driving force of their run of books, and it’s kind of hilarious to think that Terry Pratchett did the writer’s equivalent of digging through a graveyard to give her a name.  This theft is later lampshaded and then ignored; Granny says something briefly about Galder Weatherwax being a distant cousin she barely knew, and the whole thing is never mentioned again from then on out. I can’t exactly remember where, and it might even have been in a short story or one of the side books Pratchett eventually put together, not in a novel.  Honestly, who cares—Granny Weatherwax is such a force of nature that it only takes a few minutes to forget that her name ever could have belonged to anyone but herself.

But Granny Weatherwax is not a discussion for The Light Fantastic.  It’s time to move on to Equal Rites!

* * * * * * * * * *

Side Notes:

This is the book where the Unseen University Librarian is changed into an orangutan.  It happens early on in a magical accident, as the grimoire containing the Eight Great Spells attempts to save Rincewind and the spell trapped in his mind, and he is never reverted to human form.  

He is referenced but does not appear in The Colour of Magic.  

At no point anywhere in the Discworld does he appear in human form.  At no point does he have lines in human language.  He is never named.  At no point is he described as he was prior to this change, except that the orangutan he becomes is initially said to look “like the head librarian,” so presumably he was already a bit orangutan-ish. 

For something as weird as this is, and for something with such long-lasting repercussions, it is treated in the moment as a thing of very little importance—except, of course, that now he has to be paid in bananas.  I find this absolutely delightful.

Tim Curry plays the wizard Trymon in the BBC miniseries The Colour of Magic, which combines The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic.  Trymon only appears in The Light Fantastic in the books, and I can’t read it anymore without picturing Tim Curry in his ridiculous robes and shoes, with his ridiculous overdramatic murder plots, working his way up to the top just to die a ridiculous death.

No, really. Look at this hat.  Look at this goatee.  Only Tim Curry has the acting chops to pull this off.

Death once again appears, and this time we also get to see his house and his daughter, Ysabell!  I can see why it didn’t take long to go from here to Mort: the concept is way too good to leave to little snatches and side appearances.

Krysoprase the troll shows up for the first time in this book.  Later, he’ll be known as Chrysoprase, and will make appearances in several other Discworld novels: Feet of Clay, Wyrd Sisters, and, notably, Thud.  There’s also a troll named Breccia in The Light Fantastic; Breccia will become the name of Chrysoprase’s gang in Ankh-Morpork.

While going through my copy of The Light Fantastic to work on this post, I glanced at the cover and briefly thought I was losing my mind.  At the bottom, there’s a blurb talking about beloved Discworld character “Conan the Barbarian”—but up until that moment I was 100% certain the beloved barbarian on the Disc was named “Cohen.”  Turns out I’m not crazy, it’s just that the literal cover of the book decides to make a reference to the character that Cohen is parodying rather than to Cohen himself.  And this is the 2008 print edition, not an early run or a badly-assembled e-reader edition, which means it’s being released by a professional publishing company a full 22 years after the original novel came out.  It’s not like nobody’s had time to look over the material and do some copy-editing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Favorite Quotes:

“The important thing about having lots of things to remember is that you’ve got to go somewhere afterwards where you can remember them, you see? You’ve got to stop. You haven’t really been anywhere until you’ve got back home.”

“Do you think there’s anything to eat in this forest?” “Yes,” said the wizard bitterly, “us.”

“Not for the first time she reflected that there were many drawbacks to being a swordswoman, not least of which was that men didn't take you seriously until you'd actually killed them, by which time it didn't really matter anyway.”

“Are you a hero, actually?” “Um, no. Not as such. Not at all, really. Even less than that, in fact.”

“What shall we do?’ said Twoflower. ‘Panic?’ said Rincewind hopefully. He always held that panic was the best means of survival; back in the olden days, his theory went, people faced with hungry sabre-toothed tigers could be divided very simply into those who panicked and those who stood there saying ‘What a magnificent brute!’ and ‘Here, pussy.”

[wthtorke]

Could I request for an alpha yauja x female Omega reader? Where the yauja has been living on the omega's land and been protecting her because he is addicted to her scent? And then when she finally meets him after getting hurt she goes into heat? IDK which yauja would work best in this situation since it has been a while since I have watched the movies sadly

(Yes I can, I absolutely love A/b/o, you said you haven’t watched the movies and I raise you Alpha!Elder (Ancient) predator from AVP! yeah, that one dude with the red cape, carved tusks and dramatic swing of his dreads at the end of first AVP movie! We’ll call him Elder for short!)

Elder wasn’t supposed to stay on earth for so long, he went on lone hunts from time to time but he never stayed so long like this before.

Elder was a very respected alpha, he proved his worth challenge after challenge, scar after scar, he sired many pups throughout his life but never had a mate, and he was sick of being alone.

Then he caught a whiff of your scent.

He was sure you were compatible cause the more he breathed in, the more his instincts told him to get to you. Of course, he wasn’t a barbarian, as much violent his kills were, he would never mistreat an omega, but he curiously followed your scent until he hit a small cottage in the middle of the woods, nice place to live, for a beta or an alpha, but for an omega, he had his worries. It was far from the city which was good and bad, Elder has been hunting here for a while now and the mindless, human bad blood alphas he’s killed made sense now, they were trying to get to you. Elder growled under his breath, he’d stay more alert now, cover a bigger perimeter around your house mostly.

The weeks went by, Elder kept protecting your house, however, he didn’t expect something so silly as an alpha delivery man slipping through his senses. When Elder noticed his intentions and your struggling against him, he dashed as fast as he could to your house.

Elder pulled the filthy Alpha off of you and eliminated him in the woods outside of your home. It was the smell of your blood and panic that snapped Elder out of his frenzy.

He came back to your house to find you trembling on the kitchen floor, the smell of fear and blood made the air unbearable, your arm was bleeding and your skin feverish to the touch, that maggot had scared you into heat. Elder picked you up and took you upstairs to your room, it smelled so strongly of you, Elder was dazed for a brief moment.

He placed you on your bed and placed your pillows around you to make you feel safe, ripping a shirt in half so he could wrap your arm firmly to stop the bleeding.

It was too late to give you heat suppressors, you were slightly shaking, feverish and smelled so good, Elder wished he had introduced himself sooner, made his intentions of courting you clear.

You reached for Elder’s arm, panting and sweating from the heat waves that coursed through your body, Elder’s eyes met yours as you asked him to help you through this. Elder debated with himself if this was wise or not, he couldn’t just breed you in a moment of vulnerability like this, he would never do this. Instead, he settled for locking the doors and joining you in your bed, simply holding you as you breathed in his alpha musk, trying his best to help you get comfortable during the first hours of your unexpected heat. Promising to never leave you alone again, he talked about his plans on courting you and not rushing things, and even with your fear still wearing off from the fright, you couldn’t be happier your mysterious forest alpha finally decided to introduce himself to you.(Hope you enjoyed it!)

[lord-explosion-baku]

Rising Sun (part 2)

Prince!Kirishima x princess!reader

Warnings: swearing I think?

A/N: I finally got some ideas of where I want this to go! I edited the first part to have Mina be your old friend back home because I’d like to add more BNHA characters to this. Also Kirishima is gonna come off ooc but I gotta let you know that beneath his facade he’s still our Grade A Best Boy. Anyways here’s part 2!

Part 1

You awaken to the clanking of glass against the side table nearest to the bed. You stretch your body and enjoy the feeling of the freshly clean sheets against your skin. You’re still in the gown you had out on the night before and you hoped that meant that nothing troublesome happened. You open your eyes and watch a beautiful woman with bright red hair pouring water into a crystal glass. You’re thankful it’s not Anaya but you don’t expect this girl to be any less nasty.

“Water, miss?” She offers you the glass and you take it, realizing you had a pulsing headache. You really went heavy with your marital wine drinking.

She sits with you on the bed, keeping her back straight, and watches you finish your glass. She takes it back and says, “the prince told me to speak softly to you since you had a rough night but I do want to inform you that breakfast is being served now. Food from your kingdom to make you feel more at home. I must admit I did sneak a few bites of the potato hash and it really is quite delightful,” she sends you a soft smile. Maybe not everyone from this kingdom was horrible. “If you want I can help you find the dining hall after dressing you, if you don’t mind.”

You gaze down to the red silken gown you wore to bed. For something that was supposed to be worn to please its viewer it was incredibly comfortable. You smile at the thought of what the people in the temple might think if you went down dressed as you were. Maybe they’d send you home.

This is your home now, you have to tell yourself. You nod and allow the woman to escort you out of bed. Back at your old home, Mina, your chambermaid and friend, would swing pillows at your face and yell at you for sleeping the day away. You would laugh and hit her back. You were going to miss her terribly.

The woman who you learned her name as, Freya, helps slips yet another form fitting gown on. It’s white and shows off your bare shoulders while the sleeves have slits, while the rest of the gown flows freely down to your feet. Draconians’ attire consists usually of skin revealing uniforms since the kingdom was the warmest of them all and you were grateful to be put in something a little more tasteful. Maybe tasteful wasn’t the right word seeing as you were from a completely different world and you haven’t quite felt at home with their customs but you were content with with being comfortable.

Prince Eijirou stands before you are seated to his right. He offers you a kind smile and you bow respectfully at him. The long dining hall table is adorned with the finest morning foods your own kingdom had to offer. It was a kind gesture but nothing you should get used to. The room is lit up only by a few torches but the giant windows that showed off the rolling hills and tropical greenery brings more than enough light in.

When you sit Eijirou places a hand on your arm. His touch is warm and inviting and remember the way he made you feel last night before you… before…

You turn to him and he’s watching you. “Prince Eijirou,” he frowns slightly at your formality, “About last night…?”

“I put you to be bed,” he whispers back to you. He leans in close so the servers around you couldn’t eavesdrop, “no harm will come to you as long as you are in my temple. Especially not from me.”

You are flooded with relief. You didn’t feel like anything happened but you had to make sure. The man before you was your husband but you didn’t know anything about him, besides what you heard from a certain blue haired somebody who just glided into the room.

“Speaking of which,” he stands and everyone around him besides Anaya freezes. “Anaya,” he addresses her and she salutes him by putting her fist to your chest.

Hisses and growls escape her mouth and you can only assume she’s greeting him in Draconic.

“I’d like to have a word with you and I would hope to have it in the tongue that all parties can understand.”

Back home, ‘having a word’ meant taking someone aside and speaking to them one on one. You furrow your brow and watch Anaya send you a glare before turning her attention back to the prince.

“It seems that last night you did not fulfil your duties in tending to my bride.”

Anaya crosses her arms across her chest and sneers, “she told me she could handle it on her own.”

“And was that before or after you threatened her?”

Anaya raises her eyebrows. “I did no ssuch thing! I wass only giving her fair advice!” She shoots another glare your way.

“Was the advice warranted?” He waits for her to respond and it seems like she doesn’t understand the question. Eijirou begins to speak to her in draconic, his tone only seeming more dangerous through the rolling of his tongue and his growls. She hisses back and throws gestures into the air. She flinches only when he stomps his foot the ground. The table shakes.

“I see then… since you have such a narrow and tainted mindset I can only see you as being a threat to this kingdom and I have it in my right mind to banish you,” a hush falls across the dining hall. You watch Anaya’s face contort from fury to terror. The king himself walks into the room and crosses his arms, observing his son. Much like the prince, he displays his bare muscular torso with only an opened vest over his frame. He looks very much like Eijirou but with long wavy black hair that falls beneath his shoulders and many more scars, no doubt from fighting in many battles. He nods for the prince to continue.

“But I am putting your fate into my bride’s hands.”

Your eyes widen. You’re doing what?

Eijirou turns to you, “it’s your decision, Princess Y/N. We can have her banished for the crimes committed against you or we can let her stay.”

Beg pardon, your majesty? You don’t realize your mouth fell open until Anaya scoffs. Eijirou shoots her a look and she dismisses the ugly look on her face. You knew that one day you were going to have to make big decisions like these, at least for your kingdom. Hell, this didn’t seem all that big compared to the declarations of war your father signed your kingdom into. You didn’t think that Anaya had gone as far as committing any crimes against you, though you didn’t like her the second she opened her mouth.

You remember telling your father that when you were going to be queen you, were going to be a kind and forgiving one. He said that’s not what your kingdom needed. He ruled with an iron fist and you were to follow in his footsteps. That was of course, before losing so many good people, even your friends, in battle.

You bow your head, “let her stay.”

Anaya brings a shaking hand to her mouth and she cries out. You think she’s upset but she then she salutes you.

Eijirou doesn’t change his tone as he speaks to her. “Be grateful that you’re future queen is far more forgiving than I am. Let this be a warning: if you ever come near my princess again with malicious intent, I will not hesitate to have you take your leave by tying you to a barrel and having you float your way to exile.”

You shudder at his threat that felt more like a promise. Maybe Eijirou was a brute.

Anaya excuses herself and you watch the king leave. Eijirou sits back down. The servants around you avoid talking and Eijirou starts tapping on the table. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” he says. You look to him and he’s staring at his full plate. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted her banished but I’m glad you said not to.”

You don’t know what to say. You begin turning your glass full of what you think is pineapple juice, a fruit only found in this kingdom. “I believe empathy can go a long way. Carrying an open heart can only open the hearts of those who surround you,” that was something your mother used to say to you. You pick up your glass and take a sip. Definitely pineapple juice. You are thankful for such a delicacy.

“That’s why you’re going to be an incredible queen,” he turns to you, “but if Anaya ever bothers you again just call her a nurh-rhyvos-maurg.” That was a mouthful.

“What does that mean?” You take another sip of your juice.

“Ugly cow breed.”

You spit the pineapple juice back into the cup and cover your mouth. Eijirou’s crimson eyes shine at you, happy to see you laugh. “So she has a sense of humor!”

He takes a napkin and dabs at your face. That was too intimate for your liking. You take it from him and smile, “of course I do. I just didn’t expect you to have one.”

He gives you a funny look and smiles to himself. “There’s a lot that we don’t know about each other yet. I know a lot of Draconians seem barbaric at first and as a future king I have to play such a merciless role but… well, I’ve met actual barbarians. They’re not half bad. And as a king I have to be assertive so my people will take me seriously. I’ve accepted the role but there’s more to me than my status.”

You’ve said that to your father plenty of times in one form or another. It was almost reassuring, knowing that you and your husband had at least one thing in common.

“nurh-rhyvos-maurg,” you practice saying it. Draconic is mostly rolling your R’s and and elongating the S’s but when it comes to words like ‘maurg’ you had to sort of growl.

“Trust me, it’s a big insult for Draconians. Nurh-rhyvos-mmAURg,” he enunciates the last word and his sharp teeth are flashed at you. It’s kinda cute the way he growled the word out.

“And what do I call you?”

“Mrrandii, which means ‘husband.’”

“And what do you call me?”

“Memamosal, for ‘wife’ and vorel for ‘beautiful,’” he grins as your cheeks are dusted with pink, “but I prefer ithquant because you could only be described as divine.”

You didn’t think it was possible but your face turned an even deeper shade of red. He takes the opportunity to lean in close to your ear and whispers, “sia vorel vur ithquant memamosal.” You nearly melt at the way his low voice rumbled in your ears. You turn to see him staring at your lips. “My beautiful and divine wife…”

You find yourself leaning closer to him. His pupils dilate, only making his crimson eyes an even more vibrant ruby. His lashes are dark and long and nearly ran you as he blinks. Your lips are a hair away from his before the two of you are interrupted by the Draconic growling coming from behind you.

Eijirou sighs and turns towards the man who addressed him. They have a conversation you can’t understand while you pick at your plate, wondering what the hell you were about to do. You were going to kiss your damn husband which is fine. You’re fine. Everything is fINE.

Eijirou clears his throat and takes your hand. “There are some customary festivities going on in town today. It’s actually pretty common and we’re not expected to go,” he bites his lip and you fixate on his teeth. Why did you think they were so cute all of a sudden? “Normally I would encourage anyone to go to these things but they can get pretty loud and well, last night…”

Ah. You are very hungover. You furrow your brows, “how loud?”

He brings his hand to his neck and gives you a sheepish grin, “let’s just say our wedding was pretty hushed compared to this.”

“Oh…” you stare down at your half eaten food. Is there a polite way to refuse?

“We don’t have to go! I’d just like you to know what’s going on in our kingdom. We can always go to the next festival, there’s plenty!”

“Well, you should go!” You don’t want to keep him from having fun. Besides that, you really wanted to have some time to yourself to think.

“I don’t want to leave you here by yourself. What kind of man would I be if I left my lady here waiting and bored out of her wits?”

“I won’t be bored. I’ll… go exploring! What kind of queen would I be if I didn’t know my own castle?”

You can tell he is being resistant but you really need to be alone. You place your hand over his and he stares at it. This was the first time you had instigated a touch. You bat your lashes at him, only half guilty for using your charm to get what you want. “Please?”

“Maybe I’ll have someone escort you around?”

You shake your head. “That won’t be necessary. Sometimes being alone and getting lost is the best way to find yourself familiar with oneself and their surroundings. I’ll do fine.”

He frowns at the word ‘alone.’ He leans back in his chair and his brows narrow in concentration. His eyes light up and he grins, “Yeah, okay. That’ll be good for you.”

You have half a mind to ask him what he means but you don’t. You don’t want him to change his mind so instead you kiss him on the cheek and watch his face flush.

You don’t see him change for the festival. You’re only informed of when he has left and you begin your investigative stroll.

From the outside, the temple stands high and proud but seems rather small compared to the inside. Your castle at home was large enough to house the royal family, your servants, and five other noble families. Though the temple is larger than the viewer’s eyes it only houses the royal family and a few of their servants but the town isn’t a long journey away. The temple is smaller because it wasn’t meant to be housed at all when it was created. It was to be a house of worship for Draconians. They have an ancient following that is derived from the first appearance of dragons or so you are to believe. You thought that was very interesting since your kingdom was basically built through power with a big help from magic. That’s why the high priestess is hailed almost like royalty.

Outside, your feet are greeted with warm sand that surrounds the temple. It’s not hot enough to burn you and it’s really quite inviting. Draconians don’t wear shoes and you weren’t offered any when getting dressed which was fine but you were thankful for the lush grass you found after strolling outwards, not wanting you feet to get too dusty. As you walk you taken in the air that is rich with a sweet aroma of the tropical fruit growing nearby and the slight hint of a burning wood that follows you whoever you go. It was an odd mix but fitting for such an odd kingdom.

You balance your feet and walk in a straight line, one foot in front of the other, and think about your place in this kingdom. You were going to be their queen and Eijirou, your king. You grew up knowing that you were going to be a queen somewhere but it was finally happening all too fast and in the place far too foreign. But you did it for a just reason. You did it for peace. And you are going to be a good queen but how can you be so sure of that if you can’t have your own husband touching you without panicking? You blamed that on Anaya but you’re not sure if things would be different if she hadn’t threatened you.

You’re lost in your head when the ground starts to shake. It happened so quickly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not. It shakes again and you lose your balancing game. Your eyes shoot up and your gasp.

About fifty meters away, clear as the sky, a Herculean creature, mighty and proud with gorgeous sanguine scales that shine as the warm sun hits them, stares at you. Your first encounter with a dragon.

Part 3

~

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly s-of-aly @rubyred-28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @personoffangirlingandtears @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Blue Phoenix {Oneshot}

Masterlist

This is my entry for @supersoldiersruined-me Challenge! I hope I did this justice!

Words: +2,300

Warnings: SMUT! F/F! Other than that cursing?

Prompt: Nora Roberts, Chasing Passion: She would let him yell, if that was what he needed, but she was tired, she was aching, and her heart went out to him. (In Italic)

A/N: The reader is a pink skinned Kree (definition further down) that possesses the seventh sense as well is a she is a phoenix, a blue phoenix. She was thrown out of an airlock by Ronan the accuser 2 years before Thor Ragnarök takes place & when she was found on Sakaar was thrown in with the Hulk but Brunhilde managed to bargain for the woman after the Grandmaster made sure she lost the fight.

(Pink-skinned- In an attempt to further their development, some Kree bred with other species, producing the "pink-skinned" Kree, who are similar in appearance to Caucasian humans. These pinks (also called "whites") eventually outnumbered the blue-skin Kree.)

{Powers} Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Durability, Superhuman Endurance, Superhuman Stamina, "Seventh Sense" (Kree women possess the potential for psychic abilities of various kinds, collectively referred to as a "seventh sense". This psychic potential has manifested as clairvoyance, precognition, or even lethal attributes. Some Kree women can reach into the mind of male-sex species to manipulate their desires or drain another's life force completely. Kree technology has since been created to discover and remove the powers surgically, and technorganic Bloodhounds were used to track down female reaching the adult age with those abilities. (Source HERE)

The first meet with the Valkyrie, Brunhilde, was when the tanned skin woman stormed into the room, nearly scaring Y/N shitless, having recently came to Sakaar & not have seen scraper 142 this agitated before. The woman, the Kree frozen on the couch where the woman had left her that morning, the obedience disc sure to keep her from leaving the room.

Recently only having come to a few moments ago & attempting to gather bearings in this god forsaken hell hole. Y/N seeing her opportunity as the door was still slid open rushing to the open entrance only to fall back to the floor as poison coursed through curvaceous form, not having a clue what was going on as she was drug back into the room.

“You need to stop doing this,” the tanned woman spat at Y/N, the lithe creature effortlessly lifting the others larger frame back to & on the couch as the poison subsided only to jump to bare feet again & press against the glass wall.

“No! I'm going to fight this till my last breath,” the thick framed woman snapped out at tanned woman who advanced on her fearlessly.

The thicker creature daring to look down at what she had on, pondering what the hell was with the color scheme of the leather pants & shirt that hugged tight. The Kree swearing they were painted on & a thing she would have never dressed herself in as attention finally snapped back to the woman with cognac eyes having stopped a few feet away.

“Do you even know where you are pinkie,” calling name to the fact the large framed woman was what was known as a pink or white Kree.

The woman, scraper, whatever it was she had heard someone calling the lithe woman when Y/N had been drug to this room, after the Kree had supposedly lost a match with the champion thanks to the disc after having been given no warning & literally thrown into the ring with the green guy.

“Among barbarians,” the thick framed woman blurted out.

A slight itch making a calloused hand reach up to the dried emerald green blood that came from the disc, hands flexing to call out to the psychic energy that manifested as a blue flame thanks to her mother who was a phoenix long burned out & dead thanks to her own kind. A harsh reminder that here it wasn’t to be used as it had barely showed itself before the disc took over to throw her to the floor on aching knees before she could call it back.

“You should be dead or at least mutilated. Am I correct? Kree females aren’t allowed to possess the seventh sense any longer, haven’t in centuries,” the tanned woman spoke, stepping closer as the crumpled heap glared into cognac orbs, becoming pissed by the minute & fact the woman knew a lot of the Kree, but Y/N didn’t know a damn thing of where she was or what this was on her neck.

“You tell me since you know more about me then I do you. I haven’t had a chance since I was thrown in the ring with that beast,” the woman gritted through clenched teeth glaring up at the Valkyrie who reached a bronzed hand down to help the Kree up only for her to knock it away for the scraper to shrug bare shoulders & walk away to the kitchen.

“You should be grateful Pinkie, I kept the Grandmaster from melting or lobotomizing you,” Brunhilde scoffed over her shoulder as the Kree still remained on her knees, disoriented & trying to figure out where it went wrong on the ship that had her coming to in a ring with a green giant.

“Stop calling me pinkie, I am well aware of my genetic disposition, bitch,” the Kree spat out as if it was venom on her tongue the scraper turning to look the bewildered creature as she brought food out of the refrigerator tossing it on the counter to look at Y/N with a smirk.

“That’s Mrs. Bitch to you… Pinkie,” the bronze woman smiled wide at the Kree that stumbled to uncooperative feet.

The large framed woman tripping over bottles & what have you in an attempt to stalk towards the scrapper but gave up with a huff to flop to the floor on plump ass between the kitchen & sitting area. Tired & troubled orbs looking up at the woman who smirked down at the Kree as she began to pull out the contents of the bowl to plate them up.

“You should have let him melt me or whatever,” Y/N huffed, legs out straight, elbows leaning on thick thighs to lay muddled head in jittery hands, the first headache she had since her seventh sense took over to make her entire brain pound.

“Come on, you will feel better when you eat,” Brunhilde spoke quietly, getting the thick framed creature to aching feet by looping tan arms under Y/N’ to usher to a small table & place a plate of food in front of her.

The Kree wasn’t sure what to do, she was hungry but wasn’t & hadn’t a clue what it was that sat before her. A testing poke at it in hopes it didn’t move because Y/N wasn’t sure she could keep it together at that point.

“Then tell me what you remember,” the bronze woman spoke up sitting across from Y/N who looked over at her trying to recount it herself.

Gingerly the Kree reached up to feel for the implant that aided her to breathe in space to find it had been left but it was where the bleeding came from as if it had been ripped in some way. This time she jolted as Brunhilde got to her feet to step over with a towel to look over the implant, the flat kidney shaped device looked more sophisticated than others she had seen, dabbing at it gently while reaching for the bottle of alcohol to doss the rag to clean the dried green trail that had made its way to the hollow of supple throat.

“I remember being tossed out of an airlock by someone I thought I could trust for calling him on a plan to take down Xandar. Asshole mentioned something about speaking with a titan,” Y/N spoke, letting out a hiss as the alcohol found the gash, the scraper holding the rag to it.

“I was stupid enough to think I could reason with him but guess not,” Y/N sighed out as it finally stopped bleeding for Brunhilde to take her seat back, looking over the thick framed woman poking at the food on, not looking up & looking paler than before.

“Eat,” the woman commanded the Kree that pushed at the noodle looking things with the utensil provided, finally spearing some sort of vegetable to put it into her mouth.

Well at least it didn’t taste bad she thought letting out a huff as she continued to pick over the food still expecting it to move or…

“I took the eyes off of it before I put it on your plate,” Brunhilde spoke seriously.

“OK, you know what I'm done,” Y/N blurted out, putting the fork down hard to make it echo through the room, hurrying to numb feet to stumble back to the couch, plopping down to look out the window at the ships coming & going, the colors ringing a bell but not too much as to where she was.

“You're touchy for a Pinkie,” the woman spoke sitting behind Y/N who stayed focused on the commotion outside the window as a bottle of water was pushed into sore hand in the process.

“You're brave to be conversing with a phoenix,” the Kree spoke, taking a sip of the water still looking out the window.

“I have no reason to be afraid of a phoenix,” the woman spoke fingers toying with the ends of the Kree’  hair that cascaded down curvaceous back though it was usually pulled into a tight braid.

It made the woman freeze for a moment, the only ones not put off by a phoenix or a half breed would be Aesir. Slowly turning to look at the woman who was toying with her hair to look into cognac orbs that flickered with a light, a recognition as if she was looking into Y/N’ soul.

“Why did you spare me,” Y/N began, moving back as tanned hand reached out to touch her face but stopped.

“You remind me of someone,” Brunhilde spoke calmly giving Y/N an almost wounded smile before getting up, letting known it was a tender subject.

It would have been a yelling match if Y/N was to open her mouth at this point, fresh from the battle that was Ragnarök, only to have to flee the ship, the Statesman, to Midgard due to being boarded by the very titan the Kree had been tossed out of an airlock for. Curvaceous body sore from releasing the phoenix, for the second time in 2 years or so since coming to live with the Valkyrie, the blue phoenix, blue flame burns hotter, takes more to harness it, takes more energy & wears you down quicker.

She would let the Valkyrie yell, if that was what the warrior needed, but Y/N was tired, the phoenix was aching & her heart went out to Brunhilde.

The bronze woman’s face tinting red at how harshly she yelled at Y/N for almost destroying herself, for letting the phoenix go like she had to finally calm. Looking over the flush Y/N who looked calm, having grown used to the warriors temper, the lithe woman lunging forward to fall into Y/N’ thick frame. Strong, bronzed hands pulling for thick frame to mold to the lithe warrior that held tightly, Brunhilde’ calloused hands going to cup the Kree’ flush face to pull it down to her.

“Don’t you dare leave my side or I swear to the Norns I will put the disc back on you,” the Valkyrie scolded as she jerked the Kree back to cockpit of the ship, having been called to head to Midgard, especially since most of the survivors had turned to dust.

It was obvious the Valkyrie couldn’t handle losing another paramour to death, it was a thing Brunhilde had been making clear since the first time the two of them had ever laid together & seemed to have gotten worse with passing time as well as current events.

“I'm not going to hold this grudge, it's to short,” the warrior breathed, pushing  thick frame back into the pilots seat.

A knee anchoring between thick thighs, tan hands falling to wrap in the Kree’s shirt to make the leather creak as Y/N’ hands feel to lithe hips. The Valkyrie forcefully pushing the woman’s head into the head rest of the seat as the kiss became deeper tongues fighting for dominance before breaking apart to take gasping breathes.

“Stop fighting me Pinkie,” the warrior breathed down Y/N’ throat, the ship coming out of its jump before it entered Earth’s atmosphere.

“I'm not fighting you Asgardian,” Y/N snipped back with a smile, turning to look to the controls & out the window but the warrior quick to jerk attention back to tanned lips that where inches away.

“It will take 10 minutes or so for the ship to land, they know we are coming,” the warrior spoke breathlessly on pink lips the seat tilting back to allow the Kree to lay almost flat with the flick of a switch.

“That’s enough time isn’t it,” Y/N panted hand finding the hem of the pants the warrior wore to slip steady hand into the stiff leather, gliding fingers through wet folds to circle around delicate clit before the warrior finally managed the phoenix’s pants.

“I hope so,” the warrior breathed straddling thick thigh to place both knees on the seat as Y/N settled back further, hips bucking in excitement as parted lips let loose a moan the instant tanned fingers slipped deep into juicy, aching cunt.

Y/N not hesitating to do the same to the warrior as she took the Kree’ lips again obvious she was tired due to releasing the phoenix as ample hips didn’t buck as enthusiastically as they normally did. The hand fisting Y/N’ shirt releasing to go to the hand that was forced down the front of the Valkyries to pull it free & place it on the opposite hip.

“You’ve done enough sweetheart, let me take care of you for once,” the warrior spoke, forcing fingers deeper into Y/N’ velvet cunt to elicit a whimper at the force of the thrust.

The phoenix’s booted feet trying to find purchase on the grate of the ship feeling it jar as it entered the Earth’s atmosphere, thighs already shaking as the warrior continued to push Y/N closer to the edge with a whimpering cry that had the Kree’ fingers digging bruises into the warriors hips as body arched off of the seat.

“Cum for me baby,” she heard echoed darkly in shivering ear as velvet cunt fluttered around thrusting digits as calloused palm ground into aching clit in the only way the Valkyrie knew drove Y/N wild.

“Oh… Norns…,” Y/N gasped out, falling into the abyss, body overtaken by convulsions as lights burst behind shut eyes, breath caught in her throat as thick body finally tired out to fall limp into the seat panting as the warrior removed her fingers, wiping them on the inside of the Kree’s pants, supporting herself on the arm rest over Y/N who was trying to get her bearings .

“Mmmm, you give me your best,” the Valkyrie spoke darkly on Y/N’ throat placing a sweaty kiss on soft throat before looking out of the window to realize they had approached their destination faster than planned.

“Welcome to earth,” Brunhilde echoed in Y/N’ ear before placing a quick peck to pink lips, jerking jittering body to unsteady feet, hair splayed wildly over her head to look out the window at the structure to watch a familiar form, Thor, step out on the lawn to meet with them with several others in tow.

“Thought I would never set foot on this rock ever again,” Y/N spoke, having spent a year here to spy for an infinity stone for the empire before the wars, mouth dropping open as she recognized Carol Danvers.

“Come-on babe let’s go make introductions & find some where to rest,” the warrior told Y/N, taking a sweaty hand & pull her to the opening hanger, both dying to get off the cramped craft.

Tags open! And re-blogs are ALWAYS welcomed!

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[the-royal-courier]

Azeroth Works: Writing is Fullfilling Work

By Sky Stoneseat

(Editor’s OOC Note: This interview was conducted on a real life author who just so happens to find interest in our little roleplaying community. She does not play World of Warcraft but we wanted to share this in the hopes of inspiring all of you out there who write on tumblr or in game. Please take the IC as a little tongue in cheek.)

While we here at  the Royal Courier strive to be the best source of news in Azorth, today we offer up something a bit different. We bring you something that is from another realm in the hopes that you may find it interesting.

We know that many of you write in your spare time, so I sat down with an author from "Earth" who was kind enough to share some tips that she uses. J.M. Frey is an author, fanthropologist and professional smartypants on AMI Radio’s Live From Studio 5. She’s appeared in podcasts, documentaries, and on television to discuss all things geeky through the lens of academia. She also has an addiction to scarves, Doctor Who, and tea, which may or may not all be related. Her life’s ambitions are to have stepped foot on every continent (only 3 left!)Her debut novel TRIPTYCH was nominated for two Lambda Literary Awards,  won the San Francisco Book Festival award for SF/F, was nominated for a 2011 CBC Bookie, was named one of The Advocate’s Best Overlooked Books of 2011, and garnered both a starred review and a place among the Best Books of 2011 from Publishers Weekly.

Lucky for us dear readers that she found time to sit down and chat.

Any tips for getting into the mood for writing?

For me, writing is a full time job, so to get in the mood to write I get up, get dressed, have tea, and basically prepare to sit down at the computer as if it is a real dayjob. That gets me into the headspace required, that “this is work, so work” mode.

But in terms of environment, I like it as uncluttered as possible. Nice lighting, daylight, and only the notes for the project that’s currently on the docket pinned to the board beside me. I really prefer silence, too. I absolutely cannot write in public spaces, and if there’s any noise at all, it’s got to be white noise – either from outside of my window or an online digital generator.

The only raging, noisey mess should be inside my head. When creating a character what are some ways to build an interesting back story's that feel fresh?

There’s a idiom that creatives use about avoiding the low-hanging fruit. The thought is that the first idea within grabbing range might be the most appealing, but it’s also probably going to be the most obvious and the most over-used.

However, sometimes your first instinct is the right one. I always grab the low-hanging fruit, but then – to stretch the metaphor – figure out the best way to turn it into fruit salad. Clichés are clichés because they work, but that should always and only be a starting point.

I like to come at my stories from the perspective of the person who is least often allowed their own voice in common narrative. For example, my series The Accidental Turn is a standard sword-and-sorcery epic fantasy. But instead of making the muscle-bound hero or the scrappy sidekick the narrator, I chose the hero’s overlooked, overshadowed little brother.

The low-hanging-fruit approach to this brother character says that he ought to be craven, cowardly, perhaps even sneaky or secretly the villain. So I thought, yes, okay, let’s give him those traits. Because that’s what’s expected. But let’s figure out a different reason for them. Why does he behave like that? What made him like this? How much is nature, how much is nurture?

Instead of being craven because he’s “just a bad person”, the little brother is quiet and withdrawn because his older brother used to bully him. Instead of being sneaky because he’s plotting, it’s because he’s actually secretly a spy for the king, on the side of good. This led to all sorts of neat things to explore in his backstory – who chose him to be a spy? Why? Who trained him? How? What purpose is there to have a spy planted in the home of the hero?

When you try to find different motivations for common traits, then you start to get into really interesting territory for backstory and character creation. And their reactions are going to be totally different, too – the way these characters address problems or react to violence will be fascinating, because the motivations and backgrounds you’ve created for them is new and interesting.

Any thoughts on a character who a bit go big or go home vs a slow burn sort?

For me, characters fit the kind of story I am telling and the kind of narrative and growth arc they need to have.

Kintyre Turn, the hero of my fantasy series, is defiantly a Go Big guy. He starts out with being gifted a magic sword at the age of eighteen, and the complete inability to ever lose. He’s got a big ego, big muscles, bit personality. And he’s great, he fits what I needed from him perfectly; but I also found with him that there was nowhere left to go. He was too big. There was no upward growth available. I found an arc for him by letting him shrink inside his own skin again. He puts away the sword, and the mantle of the hero, and starts to attend to his own mental health, in repairing and nurturing the relationships around him, and swapping places with his little brother to become the caretaker of their family estate, in allowing himself to stop running from commitment and finding domestic peace and a loving partner. Pulling Kintyre away from the Big and Bold gave him growth.

His brother Forsyth was the opposite. He started small – physically skinny, shorter than Kintyre, swaddling himself in too many house robes and the mantel of the prim, fastidious Lord of the Manor. He even stooped and stutters. He’s the King’s secret Spymaster, but even then he works from behind a desk and lets others do the legwork. He is a Slow Burn character. He grows by increments as he becomes surer of himself and his worth. He stands straight. He learns not to be ashamed of his stutter. He goes out into the world and wields a sword and becomes a hero.

But, going back to what I said about backstory above, his background and motivations mean that he is a Ravenclaw hero rather than a Gryffindor. He would rather talk his way out of things, or think through loopholes, or outwit his opponents than beat them down with a blade.

Both Go Big and Slow Burn types of characters are useful. It’s just a matter of knowing (or learning as you go) which kind is better for the sort of story you’re telling and where you need it to go. And always remember that there’s always an avenue of growth available somewhere; you just need to find it.

Dialogue can be tricky to get right, how do you create conversation that both moves the plot but is not an info dump? My first rule is to completely avoid “As you know…” or “As I said before…” or “I just remembered that…” in dialogue. If the characters already know, then the audience should already know.  And if the audience knows already, there’s no need to repeat it. If they don’t know it already, then you’re telling the story in the wrong order, or writing the wrong moments.

Focus your scenes on the moment when the character learns the information, rather than on the scenes where they report the information.

If you can’t do that, then try to keep as much of a natural flow in the dialogue as possible. Listen to people in coffee shops or pay attention at your own family dinners. Note the natural ebbs and flows, where people interrupt for clarification or pause to gather their thoughts. Watch what they do with their hands, their bodies. Watch how they fidget, or pace, or tap their sugar packets on the table top. Describing the body language will help break up large paragraphs, especially if you can use that body language to convey the character’s emotions or reactions to the news. To show instead of tell.

When I’m not sure if the dialogue is working, I strip it down into a script – dialogue only – and ask a friend to read the scene out loud with me. If it sounds unnatural or repetitive, it trips and jams in my ear. Reading your dialogue out loud, either alone or with a friend you trust to be brutally honest with you, is a great way to catch unnatural errors.

There’s also the trick of giving the characters something to do. They don’t have to be sitting in an office, or in a car, or at the kitchen table. They could be hiking, or chasing a suspect, or fighting off a barbarian horde, or slaying a dragon, or skulking through an abandoned spaceship. There’s nothing saying that the info dump has to come at a moment of stillness and quiet.

And remember that the moment of revelation should be the climax of the scene. Each scene should have its own mini-plot-mountain-rising-action-course. Instigating, rising action, climax, and then either cut to a new scene or a brief denouement. Something should happen in every scene – some information discovered or revealed, a character changes or grows, there’s a scene of action, or the plot leaps forward, etc.

Scenes that do more than one of those things are even better. Info-dump scenes don’t feel so boring if they’re happening in the middle of a sex scene, or a fighting scene, or a scene in a laboratory, or a travelling scene.

Is the look of your characters set before you start writing or do they change as you get to know them? Sometimes my character walk into my head fully formed –Forsyth strolled in one day, prim as you please, a skinny ginger amalgamation of Eddie Redmayne, Mark Gatiss, and David Thewliss. But some characters I deliberately sit down to design to compliment the world and what I need from them. For example, if Forsyth was the skinny ginger kid, then Kintyre had to be big, buff, tanned, and straight from the cover of a Harlequinn novel.

From there they sometimes change as the need arises – like, knowing a certain physical trait would be useful to solve a problem, so I go back and retroactively put it in.

But I try to be deliberate about my choices too. In the final book of The Accidental Turn series, our heroes step off the pages and into “the real world”. So I made a point of making every other character around them non-white. Fantasy tradition, which is what the series is commenting on, dictates that the heroes are always white and the PoC-representative characters are always monsters or half-something-or-other. I wanted the “real world” to reflect the world I actually live in. And choosing a variety of ethnicities for each character meant that I had an idea of how they would look and – stereotypically, based on their social standing, religion, personal culture, and country of origin – how they might dress.

But even then, I had a great time flouting those stereotypes. One of my favorite new characters is a first-generation Indian girl living in Toronto named Ahbni, who is totally into both respecting her parent’s home culture and a rainbow unicorn pastel-punk.

Once the character has been nebulously envisioned in my head, I write down the basics so I don’t forget them – eye color, hair color, height, weight, identifying features like freckles or piercings or tattoos – but then I don’t worry too much about it. If something important to their appearance comes up in the text (like Forsyth’s fear that his little tummy paunch means that he’s getting fat) then I describe it. But after I’ve described the character on the page for the first time, I don’t really bother doing it again.

I know that no matter what I say, the audience will envision them how they like, and I don’t mind that. Though I do make a point of trying to give a really clear, and quick, and immediate description of the character when we first meet them, something that really stands out to the reader.

And I try to avoid describing my narrator characters except in the comments of others. Nobody stands in front of a mirror and describes themselves or evaluates their own bodies for sexiness in real life. Please, can we chuck that narrative trope straight out the window?

There’s no need to tell the reader outright exactly what the narrator looks like, unless it is an extremely important narrative reason. Reveal it through showing, not telling. Reveal it in the character’s choices, what other characters say about them, how they react to situations. Find a way to be active about it, not passive.

Your readership is clever – let them put the clues together themselves. Trust them.

You can find out more about J.M and her work at http://jmfrey.net/books/ or follow her @scifrey here on Tumblr.

Editor Note: Do you have an interesting job? Is your work something out of the ordinary? Do you simply take great pride in what you do?  Columnist Sky Stoneseat wants to interview you!

Reach out today and be a part of this exciting new column. We want to highlight you and your line of work!

(OOC Note: We are looking for individuals who want to share the ins and outs of their RP job. These interviews will be conducted solely over tumblr.  You’ll be sent a set of questions and asked to reply in private to Sky. Once she has your responses, you may get a few follow up question over Tumblr chat. The responses will be used to write up short and sweet profiles of interesting jobs around Azeroth. Contact @skystoneseat today to schedule your profile!)