#she weaponizes her charm and leans into that expectation

[quantummindclassicalheart]

Here's my plug for Essek/Jester (donutmancy), because it's just a delightful dynamic.

Consider: Jester is big on physical affection, cuddles and hugs and all that. Essek is learning to like it (especially when it's coming from her).

Jester's all about the pranks and chaos. Essek likes things well-organized, but he's not above messing with other people if he thinks it will be funny ("I don't actually like soup."), and (post-campaign) he's definitely willing to spend a high-level spell slot to cause some mischief.

Essek spent a lot of his early life crafting a facade to keep himself safe, building a persona so other people wouldn't ever know how vulnerable he was. And Jester? Jester knows a lot about what that's like.

I was chatting with some friends about some other M9 rare pairs and came up with this list, enjoy

[igotanidea]

Family unity: Dick Grayson x reader (pt 1)

Request: Damian's fullblood older sister age 19 and Dick's ex coming to live with Bruce and Damian. She gets shocked about seeing Dick and it's obvious they both still have feelings for each other. But upon realising that she had a romantic history with Dick, Bruce and Dami goes into full protective mode.

A/N: this is part 1, with part 2 coming, cause I wanted to really dive into that "protecive mode" without writing a story of 20 pages :D

***

“So this place is like a hellhole?” she asked, watching Gotham’s landscape unveil from behind the windows of Bruce's limo.

“Indeed. But in time I think you might find some charm to it.”

“Charm? Damian, please, don’t joke like that.” Y/N Al-Ghul Wayne scoffed at her younger brother. Don’t you remember the surroundings of the league of assassins? That had a charm to it. And this place –“

“I’ve been here for almost two years, sister. I believe I may have a better background to claim Gotham has a charm too.”

“You have changed, little brother, haven’t you?” the girl raised an eyebrow at him, only earning a boyish smile in response. No matter how much Damian was trying to hide it, there was something softer about him. And something more mature and human in respect of his behaviour.  And there was no chance in the world that this switch wouldn’t move something in her older sister’s heart.

Using the moment of Damian’s complacency she leaned forward on her seat and ruffled his hair playfully. Almost like back in time in Eth Alth'eban. They may have been raised by Thalia and Ra’s to be living weapons, but aside from all that, the same blood running in their veins was insurmountable. Both Damian and Y/N were similar on so many levels and trusted only each other when it came to showing that more human face.

Well.

Almost.

In Damian’s case that has clearly changed during the few months of their father’s upbringing.

And in her case…

There was one person she trusted back in the days. The boy she liked. Maybe even more. But it backfired on her, leaving her with a very painful lesson that people come and go, feelings flee and you end up getting hurt. After two years of losing him, she was still careful with her heart and even more careful with letting down her walls.  

“Y/N…” Damian asked softly, seeing her blurry eyes fixed on the horizon as they turned and got on the driveway to the manor. “What are you thinking about…?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. There was truly no way to burden Damian with her past. Not when he was clearly starting to open up to the world.

“Hey…” the younger boy slowly reached for his sister’s hand. “You’re my sister. I care.”

“I know, Dami. I know.” She squeezed his fingers and sent a soft smile. “I know and I got a feeling it might be handy if I am to stay here.”

“My katana is still sharp.” Damian smirked, but underneath that teasing face expression she could see obvious concern for her well-being.

“Are you fighting skills?”

“Duh! Fighting room is the first place I am going to show you.”

‘Can’t wait for that.”

Before she could add anything else the car pulled off signalling that they’ve reached their destination. Second later, the door opened and Y/N was greeted with the sight of the Wayne Manor.

“That’s it?” she tilted head, taking in the magnificent building with its surroundings. “Thought it was bigger.”

“I know. At first I was disappointed too. Still am. But you’ll get used to the poor housing conditions. Oh, there’s father… Hello father.”

Bruce was already descending the stairs to greet both his real kids home.

“Y/N.”

“Father.”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

“Such generosity of you to let me crash here.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted. This exchange was awkward to say the least and not the way he thought it would come. Perhaps he should have expected that being raised by her mother would not exactly make Y/N open and trusting, let alone a chatterbox. If anything, she was keeping her emotions and her words close to her chest, examining the surroundings as if internally coming up with contingency plans.

Just like Damian when he first came to Gotham.

Just like Bruce himself.

The fact that she was his daughter was undeniable, after all the blood does not lie.

And that was why Bruce had to take a different approach to her.

“Let me help you with that.” He reached for her backpack, quite small considering the fact she was keeping most of her belongings there. Not much fancy clothes, make up stuff or anything you might expect of a 19 year-old – woman.

“No need. I’ll handle it.” Y/N effortlessly swung the bag over her arm. “Shall we?” Her watchful gaze moved between Bruce – a man who helped bring her to life and yet, who she did not know – and Damian – who was standing idly by. “I mean – we are going inside, aren’t we?”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted again, only adding fire to Y/N’s assumption that living here would be a huge challenge, and slowly led her towards the manor door.

***

“Miss Y/N. A pleasure to meet you. I am Alfred. The butler.”

“Pennyworth?” she made sure, connecting the dots in her head, examining the older man from head to toe.

“Yes. And you, Miss, are truly a spitting image of your father and brother. I suppose everyone within the Wayne blood range has an utterly terrific tendency to use last names instead of the first…”

“Y/n?!”

The exchange between the girl and Alfred was abruptly interrupted upon the appearance of a young man with just a towel around his waist, bare chest and wet hair, all of the above indicating that he has just finished taking a shower.

“Master Dick, how many times do I have to tell you to not wet the floor?”

“Grayson!” Damian hissed, taking quite a different approach to his older brother’s attire. “Dress up! We got a woman in the house and you will not deprive her with your nakedness.”

The situation was already hilarious but 12 year old Damian talking about the depravity of his 19 year old sister only added to the grotesqueness.

And then Y/N finally realised what both Damian and Alfred said.

Master Dick.

Grayson.

And that half-naked man, leaving water marks on the floor, knew her name!

Shit.

No.

***

“What was that?” Damian asked half an hour later, while he and Y/N were in her room, having stopped her from spinning on her feet, running out the door and going back to League of Assassins even if she had to crawl there for a month. “Since when do you run Y/N? That’s disappointing.”

“You are not going anywhere.” The door opened and Bruce walked inside.

“Hm.” She only muttered turning towards the window with her back to him. Bruce’s blood for crying out loud. She might as well stay in this position for the hours, days and weeks to come, but upon looking down she noticed that fuckingly annoying Dick Grayson looking up, right at her window, now fully dressed, with a  smirk and  carelessly waving at her.  “I’m going back home.”

“You are violating my privacy.” She hissed.

“Did you have much of that while living with your mother?”

“You will not speak about my mother.” The girl looked at him with anger and need for revenge in her eyes “You didn’t care much about her when you banged her and left with a kid, did you? And then, you did not care much about me, when while I was 7 you showed up to have another steamy banging with her, did you?”

“Y/n.” Bruce muttered with a hint of warning

“Y/n…” Damian muttered at the same time, having forgotten how straight-forward and oblivious to societal norms his sister could be. And listening to their parents’ turbulent history in Y/N’s words wasn’t pleasant for the younger one either.

“Shit. Sorry, Dami. Didn’t mean to bring that out, it’s just-“ she clenched her fists.

“Just what?”

“Damian, please leave me alone with Y/N for a moment will you?” Bruce turned to his son. Whatever was eating up the girl it was quite obvious that a kid, that Damian still was, should not listen to it. If his daughter was having something against him, Bruce was not going to drag the entire family into the fight.

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I am not leaving her alone with you, father.”

“But-“

Damian frowned, getting up and walking towards his sister, taking place right next to her in a form of stubbornness and quiet support. Shockingly, those actions made his father both proud and annoyed but it was obvious that a parent stood no chance against the joined forces of his assassins kids.

“Fine.” He grunted. “So you hate me Y/N. You have every right to and –“ in fact, the great Bruce Wayne, the CEO of a company, honorary citizen and benefactor of charity causes had no idea how to talk to a young woman.

“I hate all men…” she muttered, with fists still clenched and jaw tight.

“Hm?”

“I hate-“

“We heard but-“

“What did he do?” Damian cut their word exchange, being faster than his father to caught up on details.

“What?” Bruce looked between their kids with a confused frown.

“He left me…” she whispered, looking at the floor.

“When?”

“Two years ago…”

“What are you two talking about?!” Bruce finally exclaimed, getting two mocking gazes from Y/N and Damian. At this moment neither of them could believe that with such an amount of obliviousness their father claimed to be the greatest detective in the world. Ignoring him, they continued their conversation.

“How did that even happen?” Damian inquired “How did you meet? When did you meet? Did you – ugh! – did you two--?!”

“You should not be concerned with that—”

Bruce quietly sighed and sat on the nearest chair, almost blending into the wall, figuring out that it was best to gather information by pretending he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Damian asked her, but she only fixed her eyes on him with no sign of emotion. “You can’t use that trick on me, sister.”

“I’ve taught you that trick.” She pointed out.

“And since the apprentice has surpassed the master you can’t use that trick on me. He hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“No one will be killing anyone here.” Bruce decided this was the time to cut in, before someone got hurt physically. “Did he… um… I assume we’re talking about Dick?” Another batch of condemning looks was enough of an answer “ Did Dick break your heart?”

“Father!”

“That’s it. I’m going home!”

“What did I say this time?!”

“Y/N does not have a heart to break!”

“You have no right to interfere in my life! I barely know you!”

“Well I want to help!”

“Why do you even care?!”

Three Waynes under one rooftop were clearly too many, because their similar characters caused them all to start fighting and yelling at each other, forcing Alfred to walk upstairs, sat each of them in the different corner of the room, threatening with putting all the house duties on them, forcing them to stop the screams and actually start the talk.

***

It's been an hour since Alfred’s intervention and neither of them said a word.

Y/N was mad at the question about her emotions.

Damian was waiting for Y/N’s word to support her against the father.

And Bruce was making plans and schemes on how to best approach his daughter with a belated teenage rebellion going on.

“When Damian left for Gotham…” she finally started, with a voice so quiet it was barely audible in the room. “I wanted to see some of the world too… I packed my bags and just moved.”

“Grandfather couldn’t have been happy about it.”  Damian muttered

“You were always his favourite. After your departure he didn’t pay much attention to me, so –“ she shrugged. “Anyway, I started travelling. And during one of my travels I met Dick Grayson.”

“He was having his self-exploration time at the moment…” Bruce added and Y/N nodded.

“That’s what he said to me too. Not that I asked. Honestly, I never asked him a single thing. He just seems to have that effect on people when…” her voice broke a little and in that short moment of hesitation both Damian and Bruce moved to sit closer to her, leaving their respective corners. “I was 17 and out in the world for the first time. Such a stupid kid…”

“You liked him.” Bruce said softly, knowing he had to thread carefully.

“Too much apparently.” A single tear fell from her eye but instead of getting cold because of that, she felt warmth in the area of her hands. Looking down she realised that both her brother and father were holding them as a form of reassurance she decided to accept. “I knew he was Nightwing. He knew I was trained as an assassin. I even told him we could work together, but – “

“He left.”

“Yes.”

“He came back to Gotham, because of his duties here.”

“Well, I know that now…”

“Y/N.”

“I got closure now, right? He put the duties before whatever stupid thing we had going. You can learn from heartbreaks, right?” she was trying her best to not fall apart, but it was too much.

After all, behind all those layers of indifference, harshness and assassin upbringing she was only a girl whose heart was broken and who never let it in. After Dick abandoned her, she dug her emotions inside, instead deciding on travelling more and forgetting about the incident.

Only now, when she saw him again, after two years, this deeply hidden thorn has pierced the layers of inaccessibility she has built around herself. Bringing out tears.

And that was as surprising to her as it was for Damian and Bruce, who froze at first.

But when Alfred decided to open the door once more, getting alerted by the ominous quietness coming from upstairs, he saw three Waynes on the floor, almost snuggled together (which was the Waynes equivalent of sitting next to each other with Bruce’s arm around Y/N;s shoulder and Damian’s head on her shoulder).

And even though he was as quiet as a mouse, he got three pairs of eyes fixed on him immediately, warning him to not speak a single word about it to anyone.

***

She was just like he remembered.

With fire in her eyes, intelligence on her face and a fighter attitude.

All the traits that made him fall for her.

All the traits that made him stay in love with her.

Little did she know, that when he was waving at her from the driveway, with that teasing smirk and aloof attitude it was not supposed to tease her. It was a desperate attempt at reaching out. A foolish belief they could mend the gap and maybe – maybe …

No.

She was not going to forgive him let alone let him enter her life again.

And the worst part was that he was already in the lost position.

For all his golden boy attitude, all his friendliness and the fact he was Bruce’s first adopted kid and Damian’s favourite brother was nothing in comparison with the fact that with Y/N coming to live in the Manor the roles switched.

Bruce becoming a protective father and Damian turning into a revenge seeking sibling.

It was going to be a hard time for Dick Grayson. 

[0omillo0]

Dude hear me out: han and 9th member reader doing the teen vogue compliment battle and reader is trying to bring the ✨rizz✨ while han keeps doing the goofy voice with

HAN X READER

VOGUE COMPLIMENT BATTLE

a/n: I really liked this idea I hope this is what you wanted <3

ᡣ���� ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Setting: Stray Kids and Y/N are invited by Vogue for their “Compliment Battle” series. The challenge is to take turns reading fan comments in the most dramatic way possible. The catch? You can’t laugh. Whoever stays serious the longest wins the round.

The crew is gathered on set, with everyone seated in pairs. Y/N is up first, facing off against Felix, while Han watches from the sidelines.

Vogue Producer: “Alright, for the first round, we have Felix and Y/N. Let’s see who can keep it together!”

Felix (giving a warm smile): “I’m ready to win this!”

Y/N (laughing): “Don’t get too confident, Lix.”

They both sit across from each other, and the producer hands them some tweets to read.

Felix (reading dramatically): “Y/N, your smile is brighter than the sun, and your laugh is the cure to all my bad days. Marry me, please.”

Y/N giggles but tries to maintain composure.

Felix: He leans in, grinning, and takes Y/N’s hands dramatically. “Did you hear that? They need you. You’ve cured them. You’ve healed their soul.”

Y/N (struggling not to smile): “Felix, stop. You’re making it worse.”

Han watches from the sidelines, eyebrows furrowing as Felix holds Y/N’s hands. He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair with a small pout.

Han (muttering): “Why’s he gotta hold her hands like that…”

Lee Know (noticing Han’s expression): “Are you jealous already? It’s the first round.”

Han (quickly): “No. Just… competitive, you know?”

Vogue Producer: “Alright, Y/N’s turn.”

Y/N (grinning as she reads): “Felix, your freckles are a constellation that guides me through my darkest nights. How can one person be this ethereal?”

Felix smiles wide, clearly flattered, but he’s trying hard not to crack.

Felix (fanning himself): “Stop, I’m blushing.”

Y/N dramatically reaches out to lightly cup Felix’s cheek.

Y/N (whispering, trying to flirt): “Don’t blush too much, angel. We need your beauty to stay intact.”

Felix starts laughing, breaking the game, and the producer calls the round. Y/N wins, but all eyes are on Han, who is visibly not amused by Felix and Y/N’s playful flirting.

Han (quietly to himself): “Seriously, with the cheek touch? I could’ve done better…”

Vogue Producer: “Next up, Y/N versus Han. This should be fun!”

Han straightens up, determined to be goofy and break Y/N’s composure. They take their seats, facing each other.

Y/N (smiling): “Ready to lose, Han?”

Han (grinning mischievously): “I don’t think so. I’ve got a secret weapon—my charm.”

Y/N (smirking): “Is that what you’re calling it these days?”

Han (reading in an exaggerated, goofy voice): “Y/N, your beauty transcends time and space. Every time you walk into a room, it feels like all of my troubles melt away… like butter on hot toast.”

He makes a dramatic “melting” gesture with his hands.

Y/N (already stifling a laugh): “Not the toast metaphor, Han.”

Han (deepening his voice comically): “But it’s true! You’re the butter to my toast, the ketchup to my fries.”

The whole room laughs, and Y/N has to bite her lip not to crack.

Y/N’s turn. She leans forward, eyes locking with Han’s, and lowers her voice into a flirtatious tone.

Y/N (softly): “Han… every time you laugh, it’s like music to my ears. Your smile? It lights up my world. And honestly? I think about it all the time.”

The room goes quiet, expecting Han to start goofing off, but he’s suddenly caught off guard. He blinks, clearly taken aback. Thinking maybe it’s not a fan who wrote it.

Y/N (leaning in even more): “You make everything better just by being there. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Han doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks genuinely surprised, his playful smile faltering. The atmosphere shifts slightly, and Y/N, realizing she might’ve sounded too serious, quickly pulls back with a teasing grin.

Y/N (laughing): “Come on, don’t tell me you’re giving up already.”

Han (flustered, trying to recover): “I—uh, no! No, I’m just… I didn’t expect that. You’re really trying to win, huh?”

The producer calls time, ending the round. Y/N wins again, but Han is left quietly staring at her, clearly still thinking about her words.

After the challenge, backstage.

Han is pacing around, clearly conflicted. He approaches Y/N as she’s grabbing water, the others busy with interviews.

Han (hesitant): “Hey, uh, Y/N.”

Y/N (turning around, smiling): “Yeah? What’s up?”

Han (awkwardly scratching the back of his neck): “So… about what you said. During the challenge. Were you, uh, were you just messing with me, or…?”

Y/N pauses, sensing his nervousness, and a soft smile tugs at her lips.

Y/N (teasing): “Which part? The part where I said you light up my world, or that I think about you all the time?”

Han (flustered): “Both. I mean… you don’t actually think about me all the time, do you?”

Y/N takes a step closer, their eyes meeting. She lowers her voice, her playful tone softening.

Y/N: “Maybe I do.”

Han’s eyes widen slightly, his heart skipping a beat.

Han: “Wait, really? You mean that?”

Y/N (grinning): “Why do you sound so surprised?”

Han stares at her for a moment, realizing she’s serious. He chuckles softly, his usual goofiness replaced with a warm smile.

Han (quietly): “Well, maybe I think about you a lot too. Just… didn’t know how to say it.”

Y/N’s teasing expression softens as she steps even closer.

Y/N: “Guess we’re both bad at saying things, huh?”

Han lets out a small laugh, feeling the tension ease between them. But there’s something different now—an unspoken understanding.

Han: “I guess so. But you know what? I’m glad you said it.”

They share a quiet moment, the game long forgotten. In the background, they can hear the others laughing and talking, but for now, it’s just the two of them.

Y/N (smirking again, breaking the moment): “Does this mean I officially won the challenge, by the way?”

Han (laughing): “Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll get you back next time. Maybe with more toast metaphors.”

Y/N: “Bring it on, butter-boy.”

[delfiore]

—DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT. (1/3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x android!reader

synopsis: you are sent to gain intel on the black widow by the organization that made you. a relationship with her makes you realize the joys of being human.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: this idea has literally been in my draft for almost two years now lolz

PART II, PART III

When you were activated, you were fully aware of your mission. You gained access to the instructions in nanoseconds; find information on the mind control mechanism used by the Red Room, and retrieve concrete formulaic data.

Tony Stark rarely opened interviews for a lab assistant, but you were invited right away for your ‘excellent display of scientific knowledge and skills in the laboratory’.

You anticipated your moments to be present in the lab. You knew Stark was working on improvements for Black Widow’s electro shock weapon. You stood a little straighter, looked a little too focused on reorganizing Stark’s projects, just to conceal your interest in the woman.

When she entered the lab, you let her eyes linger on you a little, before looking up. Her eyes were greener than you had thought.

Mission Log 001

First contact made. No sign of hostility. Amicable acquaintanceship expected.

FD700-16.

You went on your first date with Natasha a couple of months after your first meeting, all the while you made sure to play your part well. She took you to a fair down by the piers, where you pretended to miss your shots when trying your luck at the shooting range, so that she could display her skills and win you a teddy bear. By the end of the night, Natasha had felt comfortable enough to hold your hand as she walked you home.

“Tonight was fun,” she laughed quietly, the way lovesick teenage girls do.

“Yeah, it was,” you sighed.

All of your research told you the Black Widow rarely showed her true self to people. Even amongst her own Avengers teammates, Hawkeye was the only one she truly trusted. And yet, she grabbed your hand gently, and leaned in to kiss your cheek, and giggled when she pulled back.

“Goodnight.” She said, her voice as soft as the night’s winds.

You watched her leave for a moment before going back inside.

Your maker entrusted you to succeed. You were reminded of it everyday by the engraving on the sole of your foot that read ‘Property of VULCAN’. And you will.

You learned that Natasha liked to used sly comments to deflect personal questions. She could be very charming when she wanted to, but also genuine. You needed to appear harmless. So you opted for brighter colors in your outfit for the date in which Natasha asked you if you wanted to be in a relationship with her.

“Would you maybe . . . wanna be my girlfriend?” There was an unusual meekness to her demeanor that you haven’t really seen since your first date, but it made you all the more fascinated with your subject, and how multi-faceted she could be. Is this what all humans are like?

How do I be more like them?

“If not you, then who?” You let her swoop you into a feverish kiss.

For a moment, you felt at ease, light, human.

Mission Log 063

Subject has made advances and suggested a romantic relationship. Relationship established.

FD700-16.

You played along being her lover, all the while sending detailed information about her back to headquarters, where your maker, a man you only knew as Caesar, would receive them.

She also told you about her sister, and her adoptive parents one day when she came back from visiting them. She said they would be thrilled to meet you. You smiled and said you’d love to come to hear all the embarrassing stories about her when she was a kid.

They served you all the wonderful Russian delicacy when you came to visit which you were grateful for, and for the fact that you were made with a sense of taste and a digestive system. Yelena defended you from her parents when Alexei and Melina kept asking you too many questions. Her family was a weird bunch, but they worked together. You almost felt like you belong.

Mission Log 078

First contact made with agents from 1992-1995 Ohio mission.

Alexei Shostakov (adoptive father)

Melina Vostokoff (adoptive mother)

Yelena Belova (adoptive sister)

FD700-16.

Every touch, every hug, every kiss you shared with Natasha, you acted to perfection. It was imperative that she be convinced you loved her for you to gain her trust. You let her glide her hands anywhere she wanted along your body, touch you with the intensity she deemed right.

For the first time, you were shown the way humans show affection on a deeply personal and intimate level. This was what sexual intercourse was, you thought. You were aware that you would never be one of them, but you didn’t hold back sighs and moans of content when Natasha kissed you and touched you in all the ways that stimulated all the right nerve endings.

Though when Natasha lay naked beside you, her eyes closed as she slept soundly did you get the chance to really look at her without worrying about how she would look at you. And if you knew anything about beauty, you’d say it was her.

Caesar was getting impatient to find more information on the chemicals from the Red Room, so you needed to hurry on your search of the location of the file.

You tried to slip the conversation in as smoothly as you could, whenever it was just you and Natasha, whenever her guard was down. She never suspected a thing, and told you that the formula had been copied onto a disk, which has since been destroyed.

“I just think that it’s horrible.” You mumbled. “The key to weaponizing free will all contained in a tiny disk.”

“Okay, little Detective.” She chuckled and kissed your forehead. “I’m gonna crash now.”

You nodded and snuggled back into her arms.

“I love you.” She murmured.

You bit down on your teeth and held her closer.

Perhaps you loved her too.

“Close down for the night, will you?” Stark said before grabbing his coat.

“I will, Mr. Stark.” You nodded with a smile.

You watched him walked through the door of the lab. Once you were sure he was out of sight, you found a place to sit down, pretending that you were resting so as not to raise F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s suspicion.

Mission Log 085

The formula had been duplicated onto a disk, but subject thinks it has been destroyed.

Standby until further useful information is acquired.

FD700-16.

The next day, you woke up to a distressing message from Caesar:

“Advancing on Avengers Compound on the 25th. Retrieve the disk before then, or you’re shut down.”

The 25th was next Saturday. There was a coldness that ran down your back, a chilling dread at the pit of your stomach. Dread, fear. These feelings couldn’t have been in your original program, you were built to be fearless, but Caesar also built you to learn. Just like you learned to love Natasha.

Your Natasha.

She looked so peaceful in her sleep. It was a rare occurrence to see her let down her guard like this. She had just returned from a mission that took two weeks, and you convinced her to get a full night’s sleep instead of working on reports right away.

You let your fingers glide along her fringes, moving them out of her shut eyes, down to her cheekbones, then ghosting ever so slightly over her lips. You had become so familiar with her plump lips, and the way they behave like creatures in their own rights. Most of the time, you wished to press your own against them, and the pillowy sensation of it gave you what one could only describe as bliss.

“Morning,” she mumbled sleepily.

It was just the two of you here, the morning was early and still. Caesar could never take it away from you. You made sure to store this in your secret compartment, in which you only kept the most important files. Funnily enough, it was full of her.

You knew this day would come, you’d have to do what you were sent here for. But it didn’t hurt any less. You wanted to laugh: you have learned to hurt.

Mission Log 085

Give me two weeks. I’ll have it before then.

FD700-16.

At breakfast, you barely had the stomach to eat anything. You needed to come up with a plan to find the disk without Nat noticing. Every scenario you calculated resulted in the biggest catastrophes, none of them a happy ending.

Happy endings are for humans, not androids.

You felt a hand press against your thigh, and Nat was looking at you with a concern smile. “You okay, honey?” She asked. You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. In a twisted scenario you conjured, void of the logical algorithm you were installed with, you saw yourself happy with Natasha. You wanted to throw your arms around her neck, and cry and confess everything, hoping that she had the heart to forgive you.

Instead, you only smiled, and intertwined your hand with hers. “I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy,” you lied.

A couple of days passed, and still, you heard nothing back from Caesar. You could only hope that he heeded your request.

The time not spent worrying about Caesar’s next move, you spent thinking of a way to extract the information you needed. You thought about texting Yelena or Melina to ask about it, but it would seem way too suspicious for Natasha to ask about something so important over text. So you opted for sweeping through her laptop. Sometimes what you seek lies right under your nose.

And rewarded you were. You found a lead in a file buried deep inside harmless looking files, titled ‘Photos’. The file needed decoding, but nothing that you couldn’t handle in a few minutes. You hovered your pinky over the USB hub, and when the tip of it morphed into a port, you quickly copied the file over.

“What are you doing?” Your blood ran cold. Natasha was walking over to you, unalarmed. Thankfully you were sitting against the bed frame.

“Just shopping around for ideas for Saturday night,” you shrugged casually, retracting your pinky. “What are you wearing?”

She let out a quick laugh. “You know I don’t care for Tony’s parties, so whatever’s on top of the pile.”

“And somehow you always manage to look gorgeous. Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” You teased, setting the laptop aside.

A blush crept onto Nat’s cheek, as she found your hand to press a light kiss to it. When she looked back up at you, there was a tenderness in her eyes that made your knees buckle.

“I love you,” she confessed, “I never thought I’d ever be so happy. But you, you just—“ She shook her head with a smile, “you might have saved me.”

You were at a loss for words. There was an uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach; pain, guilt, anger, you didn’t know. You loved her too, so much, and this moment should have been beautiful.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Nat cooed softly, wiping away at the corner of your eyes.

You only brought your arms around hers and kissed her deeply, afraid your words might fail you. Natasha, I’m not human, I’m a machine, I’m a spy, I was sent to ruin everything, you wanted to blurt out.

I’m not worthy of your love.

“I love you too,” you said instead. “So much.”

As much as a machine can love.

You spent the day tangled up in Natasha’s arms, warm and loved, until you receive Caesar’s message:

“New objective - FD700-16:

Eliminate Natasha Romanoff. Effective immediately.”

PART II, PART III

[writing-until-i-drop]

Rough Sex | Javy "Coyote" Machado x reader | wc: 1,274

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! rough sex, biting, dirty talk, spanking, lmk if I missed anything

a/n: thank god for @closetspngirl because this piece kicked my ass and I debated skipping it and hoping no one noticed but you convinced me to finish it

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

When Coyote transitioned to a two seater jet he knew he’d be getting a backseater. What he hadn’t expected was you. You had walked into the Hard Deck wearing a sundress that had made his mouth run dry and when you had figured out he was your new pilot, you had greeted Coyote with a hug and a key on the cheek. Then the jackals (his friends) had descended. 

Hangman was first up to bat, trying to charm his way into your pants but you had shot him down. Next was Rooster, who’s cheesy pick-up lines were more effective at turning your cheeks pink than Coyote would have liked. Phoenix had you under her spell with a few whispered words in your ear but she still struck out. Fanboy and Payback had kept things light, shooting for the friendzone and hitting their target, and Bob had just given you a wave. It irritated Coyote how much his squadmates wanted your attention which caught him off guard.

Coyote had never been directly responsible for another person’s safety in the air. Phoenix had warned him that it would be a new experience, what he hadn’t realized was just how…protective he would feel over you. Hangman claimed it was more possessive than protective but Coyote denied everything. He wasn’t possessive. He just didn’t like it when other guys talked to you, or put their hands on you, and he wasn’t particularly fond of the way men looked at you when the team went out for drinks. 

He wanted to be the only one you focused on, especially when you were together. And for the most part, you were good at that. In the air you were constantly in his ear, updating him on navigation and the weapons system. Coyote had assumed that having a backseater in his ear would be annoying but he found himself asking you questions just to hear you talk. The fact that you had moved into the apartment across the hall from him was a bonus, Coyote had helped you finish unpacking and offered to car pool, reveling in the fact that even if 

Right now you were sitting with Phoenix, chatting animatedly with your hands, leaning against the wall at the Hard Deck. When he heard what you were saying, he nearly dropped his beer.

“Honestly, you wouldn’t think it’d be this hard to find a guy willing to fuck the shit out of me.” Phoenix cackled, throwing her head back as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard but Coyote didn’t find it funny. He looked around, no one else was listening in except for poor Bob whose cheeks were cherry red.

“What about that guy I set you up with last week?” Last week? You had gone on a date last week? You groaned,

“He wanted to be all kissy and affectionate which is weird with a guy you don’t really know, at least for me.” 

“As much as I hate to say it, Bagman could probably get the job done,” Absolutely not. Coyote put down his beer, approaching your table. He liked the way your cheeks flushed pink when you caught his eye,

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?” Your brows scrunched in confusion, normally the two of you stayed much longer, but since we was your ride, you nodded, saying goodbye to the team. Coyote took a chance, pulling you into his side, his grip tight on your waist.

“Jav, what’s going on?” 

“You told Phoenix you needed something,” Your little gasp was enough to break the last of Coyote’s restraint. “And I’m the only one who gets to give you what you need. If you’ll let me.” Coyote pushed you against the side of his car, lips attacking your neck. You said you didn’t want kisses and affection, you wanted something rough, and he’d be damned if he let anyone else do it. “What do you say, sweetheart?” 

You moaned, tilting your head to give him better access, spurring Javy on. He nipped at your neck, savoring the sounds you made for him.

“Is that a yes?” 

“Do you need a written invitation, Jav?” You pushed his shoulders but didn’t let him get far, gripping his shirt. The look you gave him was dark and flirtatious, you had used it on him several times before. Your favorite pastime seemed to be teasing him but he never thought you meant anything by it because you’d laugh it off the second you said it, falling back into normal conversation. “Am I going to have to walk you through this? Should I go back in there and see if Bagman can get the job done?” 

“Get in the fucking car,” Javy snapped and after a second, you complied. 

“Fuck,” Your moans were muffled by the pillows on Javy’s bed as he plowed into you from behind. He was gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, raising them to the perfect angle that let him hit deep inside of you with every thrust. You would never be able to look at your pilot the same way again, not when he was rearranging your insides while growling in your ear.

“You have been driving me crazy for fucking months, do you know that?” You couldn’t respond, your mind focused on the feeling of his cock filling you completely. “Letting the other guys flirt with you when you’re mine, all fucking mine, arent’ you?” God, being his sounded like a dream. “My backseater, my responsibility, my girl.”

“Yours,” You whined, “Spank me.” Javy didn’t hesitate, bringing his calloused hand down on your ass. He did it again and again, your ass stinging, Javy wasn’t holding back and you couldn’t have been happier. Fuck he felt good. He was doing everything that every other guy you had slept with thus far had failed to do.

“I’m the only one who gets to do this, do you hear me?” He pulled out and you instantly felt empty, crying out. “Tell me what I need to here, sweetheart, tell me the truth.” Javy rolled you onto your back, stroking himself over you. 

“Only you, all yours, please,” You were babbling but you meant it. This was all you had wanted for months, ever since you had first walked into the Hard Deck and found out that he was your pilot. “Javy, please. I need you.” 

“Good girl,” Javy thrust into you, leaning over your body. You were writhing beneath him, desperate for your release. He captured one of your nipples between his teeth and you cried out, scratching down his back. “Play with yourself, sweetheart. I want to feel that pretty cunt squeezing my cock and I want to feel it now.” You reached down, rubbing your clit, and it didn’t take long to send you over the edge.

Your orgasm was earth shattering, you couldn’t tell if you were screaming but your throat was burning. Javy kissed your neck, spilling inside of you, fucking his hot cum inside of you with short, hard thrusts. When he pulled out of you he rolled onto his back beside you, bringing you into his side.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Javy asked as you snuggled into his waiting arms. You rested a hand on the back of his neck, 

“Can I get a kiss finally?” Javy hadn’t kissed you once the entire time and you were in dire need of his lips on yours.

“I thought kissy, affectionate sex wasn’t what you wanted?” 

“Not with other guys but you’re my pilot,” You pulled his head down, brushing your lips over his. “And I want you to kiss me.”

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[doumadono]

Can I ask for Viking Dabi being pinned down by a female reader during their training? (she's a shieldmaiden)

A/N: here you go, darling! ♥

KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU

In the rugged terrain of the Viking training grounds, Dabi casually strolled over to a group of shieldmaidens immersed in their practice. His half-lidded eyes scanned the scene as he observed the female warriors honing their skills with shields in hand.

"So, girls, how's the training going?" Dabi inquired, leaning against a nearby post with his trademark nonchalant demeanor.

The female shieldmaiden, who had caught his attention earlier, stepped forward, a smirk playing on her lips. "We're perfecting the art of pinning down our opponents, care to join, my lord?"

Dabi chuckled, "Maybe later. Just making sure you're not getting rusty out here."

As the shieldmaidens continued their drills, Dabi's eyes followed the graceful movements of their shields and the strategic strikes they executed. His casual interest turned into genuine curiosity, and he found himself drawn to the intricacies of their training.

The shieldmaiden who had challenged him earlier grinned, "You're welcome to join anytime, my lord. But be prepared for a lesson in humility."

Dabi raised an eyebrow, "Humility, huh? That's not really my style. And what's your name, woman?

"It's Y/N," she replied.

Dabi, after observing for a while, decided to join in on the action. With a nonchalant smirk, he chose the Y/N as his opponent.

The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as Dabi and Y/N squared off, swords clashing in a display of skill and determination. The training ground became a stage for their fiery exchange, each strike and parry a testament to the unexpected camaraderie that had formed between the warrior and the shieldmaiden. The clash of their swords echoing through the air.

The shieldmaiden skillfully maneuvered, using her shield to parry Dabi's fiery attacks. The two circled each other, a dance of blades and wit.

"So, Y/N, any special moves up your sleeve?" Dabi quipped, twirling his sword.

She grinned, swiftly changing tactics. With a swift move, she managed to disarm Dabi and pin him down with her shield against his chest. "Looks like I've got you where I want you," she declared triumphantly as she sat on his lap, squeezing his sides with her knees.

Dabi, unfazed, raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Well, well, this is an interesting turn of events. Didn't know you had a thing for pinning men down."

"Consider it a lesson, hotshot," she replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "Even the fieriest flames can be tamed by a well-placed shield," she grinned.

Dabi couldn't help but appreciate the unique challenge presented by his shield-wielding opponent. "So, what's your secret weapon, hmm? Charm, or just this sturdy shield?" he inquired with a sly grin as he let one of his hands rest on her knee.

She leaned in, their faces inches apart, and whispered, "Maybe a bit of both, my lord. You'll never know."

Eventually, she released him from the pinned position, and they both stood, catching their breaths.

His gaze swept her figure, lingering from the bottom up, until his turquoise eyes met hers. "Tomorrow, same place, same time. I want to train with you a little more," he declared, grinning slightly.

She responded with a cocky smirk, "Sure thing, Endeavorson. But don't expect me to go easy on you. You might need more than a little training to keep up with this shieldmaiden."

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 7

Velkommen Til Tønsberg | Loki x Reader

Loki and Thor take you to see the new King of Asgard in the hopes of finding more answers. Charmed by the quaint village and welcoming Asgardians you dream of a better future there. But not everyone is friendly and they're certainly not safe.

Warnings: mostly fluffy...mind the ending. Family drama, talk of forced marriage/marriage of convenience and Reader's family. Implied sexual content, implied loss of virginity.

A/N: From here on in there's going to be talk of other panethons,specifically from Irish mythology, so I'll put a little info at the bottom of the chapter if you're interested! Other mythologies will be depicted in the same way Loki & the Asgardians are in Marvel and the MCU. This is very much a fictionalised account, although there are, like in the MCU, elements of the original stories. You don't have to read about them, but I've tried hard to embed a lot of mythology into the story so although it's easily readable without it, I think it's more fun if you know!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

“So you met a woman who can set fire to stuff, makes everyone around her horny and you’ve let him,” the woman pointed at Loki, “teach her to shift and mind read?” She walked around the coffee table in the middle of the cosy living room, keeping her eyes trained on your face as if you might drag the crackling fire out of the hearth and set fire to her sofa.

“Yes - But, in my defence, she could already do a lot of it and it wasn’t my idea.” Thor gave her a massive grin, taking a butter cookie from the plate in front of him while she flopped onto the chair opposite you. 

“I’m -” you paused, unsure of what to call yourself. No one had really addressed you since you arrived at the compound, should you use the name you’d discovered with Loki? When you’d dreamed of Asgard together? Or should you use your old name, the one your Grandfather gave you? 

“This is Estrid.” Loki took the decision out of your hands, and you were grateful for it, leaning into his side a little for reassurance while he patted your knee. 

She took your hand in both of hers and gave them a firm squeeze, her palms were soft, but there were calluses below her fingers that told you there was more to her than the oversized jumper, piles of books and well stocked bar cart could tell you. 

“I’m Brunnhilde,” Brunnhilde gave you a warm smile, far more comforting than you’d expected when Thor had described the warrior on your journey to Tønsberg. He’d described the fights they’d engaged in together, her bravery during Ragnarok and her ability to lead as a fair and firm King for the new Asgardian settlement. He talked about her armour and weapons, whirling his hands around as he acted out his favourite moments from the final battle. Loki had rolled his eyes and told you that she was a skilled and proficient fighter and a sensible leader, despite Thor’s terrible caricature. 

The woman before you looked softer than their stories, she was wearing an oversized knitted sweater that hung down to her thighs over tight black jeans, her hair was styled in long braids that fell over her shoulders and she fiddled with the end of one as she continued to watch you. 

“Valkyrie,” Thor insisted through a mouthful of biscuit. But Brunnhilde, just rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and gave you a knowing smile, as if the antics of gods were commonplace in her life. 

“You can call me Brunnhilde or Valkyrie, Val, if you like,” she had an easy manner of speaking, relaxed and welcoming, in keeping with the homey warmth of her cottage and she pushed the plate of food towards you. “Do you want to tell me about these dreams?”

The hesitancy you felt on arriving in the little fishing village began to melt away. Initially you’d been overwhelmed by the crisp, salt scent of the sea and the shock of the cold. But here, in the stone house nestled in the centre of the village, you felt at ease and allowed yourself to relax into the cushions. The atmosphere that had been so shockingly different on arrival was now settling inside of you, the clean smell sea smell of the harbour mixing with the woodsmoke in the village was familiar somehow. 

You’d arrived in the dead of night while the village was asleep, tucked into the hillside with only a few lights along the dock still bright. The sea had called to you then, a wild thing that beat against the boats and rattled the stones of the shoreline until you were on the edge of the dock, leaning over into the abyss of darkness. 

Loki had pulled you away and wrapped your frozen hands in his own while Thor had looked on, a knowing smile spreading across his face. But you allowed Loki to pull you close, snaking your arms around his waist and tucking yourself half inside his black wool coat. He rubbed his hands up and down your back to warm you, the press of his fingers turning into the weight of your own coat as Loki’s magic flickered over you. 

You’d stood together for what felt like forever and yet not enough time at all, bathing in the darkness and the rhythmic sound of the sea as it crested and crashed on the harbour wall. 

Thor was intrigued by Loki’s behaviour, he’d never seen him act in such a controlled and measured way, nor had he seen him spend more than a few days with any consort since their adolescent years in Asgard. 

He was starting to think this was some sort of elaborate courtship that his brother had thought up, for once he decided he would forgo the teasing, happy to see his brother with a partner he actually approved of, and had left you in the cold air, wrapped together under Loki’s coat. 

Your mind had wandered, rubbing your thumb over Loki’s cool palm, and felt his own relaxed thoughts wash over you, your cheek touched his shoulder and he lifted his arm to tuck you into his side, the movement unconsciously casual and comforting. 

“Are you okay, Estrid?” The Valkyrie’s voice called to you through the memory and you sat upright again with a start. “I think I do remember you - hmm,” she paused and looked up at the ceiling. “You’re Brigid’s daughter? Right? I remember your mother, I was assigned to her guard a few times when she visited Queen Frigga.”

Her words raised goosebumps on your skin, a mother? Without thinking you grabbed at Val’s hands, pulling her to the edge of her own seat so that you could study her face, waiting for her to reveal a lie or a joke. “Show me, can I see? Please,” you begged, eyes filling with tears. 

 Brunnhilde flicked her dark eyes at Thor, hesitating, she had been King of the Asgardians for only a short time and although Thor was more like a brother to her now, she didn’t want to upset either Prince by revealing too many of Asgard’s secrets. 

You hadn’t noticed her hesitation, your only thoughts on seeing your forgotten mother again. “I don’t remember my mother at all. What was she like?” You asked, looking around the room to see if any of them would be willing to share. 

Loki, surprisingly, looked at Thor as well, a silent conversation passing between the two brothers before Thor answered. 

“I don’t see the harm, after all we brought her here to learn, if this is what she requires then she should hear it.” He said, already a little bored and messing with the trinkets on the shelf beside him, hadn’t he differed his responsibilities to Valkyrie for this exact reason?

Brunnhilde leant forward and, with some encouragement from Loki, you met her halfway, your fingers hovering over her temples. “I promise I’ll just look at my mother. Just think about her a lot, when you worked for her, what you saw.”

Loki’s hand found your knee and squeezed, “Remember, Asynja, calm." You concentrated on his breathing, on his scent, on the feel of his trousers below your own hand and closed your eyes. 

She appeared out of the gloom, a tall woman with fiery red hair in a mass of curls flowing down her back. Her clothes reminded you of your dreams, airy and bright. She had a gold crown on her head adorned with gemstone flowers, tulips, daffodils and snowdrops mixed with clover and daisies. On her back a sage green Cape trailed behind her and from one corner peaked a little face. 

“My baby, you stay in there, safe and sound,” her voice was like warm salted caramel, sweet, burning with love and measured by her strength. A fierceness behind it that would surely scald anyone coming too close. Behind her strode the Valkyrie in their armour, as they marched through the corridors of Asgard to Frigga’s chambers.

Once inside the luxurious chambers, a little face peaked out again.

“Mother?”

“It is safe, Estrid. You may come out. This is my friend, Queen Frigga. You are to stay with her a while.” The other woman held out her hand, her fingers adorned with all manner of shining gems and opaque turquoise, her hair flowed from a golden diadem, but she was dressed casually in a sky blue dress, draped around her shoulders and elbows. A Queen, yes, but a mother also. 

“Estrid, you  very welcome here in Asgard. May I present my son, Loki. He has similar talents. Perhaps he could show you the palace.” A shaggy head of black hair peered around Frigga’s legs. “I have another son, Thor, but my dear Brigid tells me that you love to read and walk, rather than fight and wrestle,” she paused, tugging Loki forward, and bent between you both, “my darling Loki can show you his library, he will be sure to share.” She gave Loki a little nudge forward and dipped her chin at him. 

With practised steps he moved towards the little girl, “Princess” he bowed, formally, looking back up at his mother for approval. Frigga patted the boy on the shoulder and he hid behind her skirts again. 

“Prince," you gave a shy curtsy, holding the folds of your elaborate dress as you moved, your memories drifted towards him and away from your parents. Your juvenile conversations floating through lazy mornings within his library, giggling together while you spied on the court from the gallery. The clothes that Loki had created for you with a glimmer of magic so that you could climb the same trees and tumble down the same hills, splashing together in the fountains of the gardens until his governess chased you back into the palace.

Your small hands clasped together as he walked you through the halls of Asgard, the sheen of sweat on his brow when you ran together through the gardens, hazy and warm and glittering with gold it morphed into a lazy dream, full of clouds and the endless sky and…

The dream faded and Val pulled away.

“You’re distracted.” She looked at Loki and narrowed her eyes. “Loki was very important to you back then, and I see that he still is," she gave Loki a sly smile, “but he’s distracting you. Bugger off and annoy someone else please." She waved the two princes away. 

Loki kissed your hand and stood to walk out with Thor. He had the same shy, boyish smile that you'd seen in your memory. The one that had made you feel welcome and at peace. He lingered, unsure about whether he could push his affection further than a kiss on the cheek. You hadn’t discussed your evening together, but he longed to keep you in his arms. Meeting his eyes you allowed your mind to wander to his and he bent over you on the sofa, his hands either side of your head, and lowered his face to yours. Brushing his nose against your cheek he kissed you softly. 

“I’ll come for you? I can show you the people." He suggested, “I’ll meet you at the harbour when you’re finished.”

“They’re my people now, don’t forget!” Brunnhilde called after him.

“How could I!” He bowed low, “my Queen." His tone was filled with sarcasm as well as mirth. With a final wink Thor pulled him out of the door.

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and then turned her attention back to the tea tray, pouring a cup for you both. She settled back into her chair and tucked her feet up under her. 

“Brigid was a wonderful Goddess, a Queen herself really, but here on Midgard,” Val took a deep breath and sighed it out, “she made the flames dance, brought the spring and the flowers, and protected the land during winter. She took care with all her subjects and friends, her matchmaking skills, in particular,  were something to behold. She helped Frigga and Odin in their early courtship and had many friends across the nine realms and the Otherworld.” Brunnhilde stopped to look at you, your wide eyes glistening as you listened. “Is this bringing any memories back?” She dunked a biscuit into her tea and watched you as she ate. 

“Yes, a little.” A tear started to fall slowly down your cheek, pooling on your lip, a bittersweet taste of a grief and longing you still couldn't truly comprehend, couldn’t even remember. “She had a cloak,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I always felt so safe in there.”

“That’s because it was safe, it created a protection around those who wore it, or who were under it. She used it to protect the land during winter, but when she had to hide you it worked for you too.”

“Did she hide me here? Is that why I don’t remember?” 

“Oh no, she used to hide you on Asgard, mostly, but you visited other realms too.” 

“So is she still hiding in it? Is that why we’re not together?”

Brunnhilde reached out and patted your arm, “no, she’s not hiding in it. I’m sorry to tell you, she died, and she took all of her magic and secrets with her. The cloak was never Asgardian to begin with, so we couldn't have looked for it, though Frigga tried. It's been lost for a long time, but I'd bet if it's anywhere, it's here on Midgard, waiting for you." 

You nodded, contemplating the possibility that it may be out there and, if it was, it was yours now. A Goddess’ cloak. 

Just the thought of it made you feel dizzy. You sipped your tea, allowing the warmth of it to spread through you before you built the courage to ask your next question. 

“How did she die?” The question squeaked out of you, barely a whisper, and you found yourself curling into the cushions of the sofa as you spoke. 

“I wish I knew." Brunnhilde looked sincere and you could feel the sorrow radiating from her as her eyes misted, "she brought you back to Asgard many times, sometimes she would stay and you would holiday around the city, sometimes she would leave you under the Queen’s care. The last time you visited you were just of age, celebrating your birthday and looking forward to your ascension. She left to speak to a potential suitor in Vanaheim, your mother and Frigga had many friends there, and together they sought someone who could match your spirit, but provide you protection, a good match." 

"A good match?" 

"I know it's a lot to take in, but you were, are, a very important child not just to your mother, but to us all. Children are rare in the Nine Realms, especially among the Aesir, skilled children are rarer." 

"Skilled?"

"Your magic. When you first came to Asgard you were wild and untamed. Frigga helped you to channel your energy and taught you alongside her own sons. I believe Loki is helping you again now, but there was a time you trained together. And that kind of magic, in the hands of the wrong realm, the wrong husband. It could've been catastrophic." 

"Husband, why would I have to have a husband?!" You were incensed, "why couldn't I just train and be by myself." 

"It was a difficult time for the Nine Realms, for us all, a time of change. But you were as angry then as you are now, I’m pleased to see you haven’t lost any of your fire.” Angry as you were, you could see that Brunnhilde was telling the truth, and there was no teasing or malice in the way she looked at you. 

The King sat her cup down an came to sit beside you, bringing your hand up to the side of her face, she opened her memories again. 

You were sat in Frigga’s private chambers, a fire glowing in the grate, wine, fruit and bread on the table. Frigga held you close, patting your hair and singing a soft lullaby.

“My dear, you are still so young to lose a mother and we will always be here for you. But you must listen to the wishes of your court, and of your King at least consider his plans. A chaperone and entourage are being sent to take you home.”

“I won’t go with them, I barely know him. Why won’t Odin let me stay?” You sobbed. 

“He will not overrule your father. There will be a ball for you, and then your Father will come and collect you. I imagine you will be introduced to your betrothed and then your ascension will begin, you will be crowned and named to solidify your position."

Brunnhilde pulled away, she was unsure of how the evening played out any further, you had fled the room and not returned. Frigga had asked her to look for you when your maids said you were not in your bed. The Valkyrie had assumed you remained in the castle, but to no avail. To Brunnhilde’s knowledge you had hidden yourself all night, returning in the morning in sodden clothes, covered in soil and grass, and had assumed you’d spent the night in the gardens, perhaps sleeping in one of the follies scattered around the hedges. 

You slid back against the sofa cushions, lost in your own memory, eyes shut but twitching as if in deep sleep. Brunnhilde draped a blanket over your lap and propped your head onto a cushion, leaving you to your memories. 

You stood, tossing aside the blankets and sheets and carefully opened the doors of your balcony. Long since a trellis had been built into the stone wall outside and you used it, as always, to climb down from your rooms into the quiet of the gardens. Out in the night, the lanterns led the way slowly fading as you moved further from the safety of the palace until you were in darkness surrounded by the trees at the edge of the palace land. Above you the forest loomed, foreboding and fascinating all at once. You expected to be alone, out in the night, but as you slowed to a halt, panting breaths that circled you in the midnight air, a voice called to you through the manicured lawns and trained roses, echoing from the mountain behind you, sad and low. 

Loki’s arms found your waist, pulling you back against his chest. Firm and real in the ethereal night, and took your weight as you cried again. 

“My darling, please, you can not leave me here." He begged, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in. You could smell him too, your memory so vivid that it filled your senses.

“What choice do I have?" You sagged further into his hold, his strong arms keeping you against his chest. 

Together you tumbled to the ground. Loki kept you close in his lap, attempting to stop your skirts from catching in the grass and mud, but you pushed them away, taking his wrists and placing his hands on your waist. With panting breaths you stared at each other, the moonlight glowing in his eyes. Then he kissed you. With no hesitation, no shyness. His tongue licking into your mouth and claiming you. 

You fell into his kisses, the moss below you becoming a blanket as he lay you down. You pulled him closer, sinking into the feeling of his magic as it surrounded you, allowing him to mould himself to your body.

“Your dress, it will be noticed," he mumbled, pulling the silk and chiffon back onto the blanket. 

“If I have to leave in a week, why should I care what anyone thinks? I’ll never be allowed to live again. And I want to live Loki, I want to be free!” Your hands were on his shoulders, in his hair, on his arms pulling him closer, clinging to him as if to life itself. 

“You are still a Princess, soon you'll be a Queen too. I should take you back to the palace.” He propped himself up on his elbow, warring with himself over whether to take you back to your chambers or keep you here forever. Loki was losing his fight, confusion writ across his normally controlled expression. Your kisses tasted like wine and figs, intoxicating and enticing. He had held himself back for so long, kept his feelings deeply hidden for so long he was struggling to keep his hands from you. 

“Is that not enough for you, my Prince? Or is it because you are a God? Am I not Goddess enough?” You started to sit up, confused in the depths of your emotions. If you weren't enough then you wouldn't be humiliated. 

“My darling, my Princess, my Queen, Ásynja. I would worship at your feet." He insisted, cupping your cheeks, his eyes swirling with need, with desire, with something you couldn't name. "But you will have to hold court here, you must be respected as the Goddess of Spring, there is some purity required," he hinted, his hands clenching in the swirling fabric at your waist. 

Loki kissed across your brow, your nose, your cheeks, every kiss more reverent than the last. Filled with the love he was too frightened to name. 

You laughed, a harsh bark compared to the usually tinkling lilt of your joy, “Is that what you think they’ll crown me? Because of my mother?” 

You felt him nod against your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse, enjoying the taste of you while he could, before he let you go. 

“What else could you be? How could you be anything but pure love and joy, there is no other who could replace her, it has to be you,” his hands played with the jewels that seemed to eternally adorn your hair, turning each pink diamond green beneath his touch. 

“Lust. That’s what I've heard I will be, a humiliation, a jest. What do you get when you marry spring and fertility with chaos and brawling? Lust, he said, violent lust. And I shall marry a war lord from Vanaheim too, to confirm my position. He made it clear I wasn’t to fall in love while I was here, I must keep myself pure so that my lord may enjoy his wife to the fullest." You ground your teeth, tearing at the blanket beneath you. "His greatest trick. Naming his own daughter Goddess of Lust as a - as a - as a virgin." Your face screwed up in anger, sobs wracking you as you thought of giving yourself so intimately to your betrothed. But Loki stopped. 

“You love me?” He asked, suddenly shy, his grasping hands holding you close. 

You met his gaze again, soft and full of admiration. “Endlessly,” you breathed, and he lay you back down among the moss, the growing flowers and new shoots, the warm sun rising and the scent of spring surrounding you. 

You woke to Brunnhilde stoking the fire, the curtains drawn now and the lights low. She smiled as you stirred and came to sit beside you again. 

“Pleasant dreams, were they?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, and you felt hot suddenly, even without the crackling fire. 

“I still have so many questions,” you pondered on what you needed answered first. 

“My father? Was he cruel?” You asked, curling your feet under yourself and tucking one of Brunnhilde's many blankets over your knees. 

"I never met him properly." Brunnhilde admitted, though a little awkwardly. "I know he was a god here on Midgard, and that your mother kept you closely guarded on Asgard while he was holding court here. I believe it was an arranged match, and there was no love between them. It was perhaps why she was so keen to see you well married, in the end. But I haven't seen him, not since he took you back."

Married. You had already found out that you were a Goddess, what would be marriage compared to that? To some unknown war lord no less, perhaps he would already be dead. But it was some comfort to know that, even then, you had given your heart and soul to Loki instead. 

Brunnhilde watched you, waiting for the next question. 

“You said Loki meant a lot to me. Will you show me?” You felt the heat of embarrassment creep up your spine, you knew exactly what he meant, but you had to know whether it was a dalliance born of extreme emotion, or something more. 

The King looked awkward for a moment. “I didn’t see a lot of it. You were both private, but also royalty. I wasn’t there, but I do  remember the last ball you attended together, the one in your honour. He danced with you the whole night and refused any other offer, the court was abuzz with whispers of your courtship.  Your father was angry that you'd allowed yourself to become the subject of gossip and he took you early in the morning before anyone else was awake. You had planned a final breakfast on the terrace with the Princes and the Queen, Loki was distraught for a day and then it was as if you were never there. No one spoke of you, and Frigga made it clear your name was never to enter the gossip of court again, for everyone’s safety." 

The whole thing had been so odd, all you wanted to do was speak to Loki and share your new knowledge with him, to see if he could remember it too. Brunnhilde called Thor while you layered your coat and scarf on again, tugging your boots on with one hand on the wall in the small hallway. 

She stood in the doorway as you left, and directed you away from her cosy home, back towards the harbour and to another stone cottage before she closed the door for the night, leaving you to your thoughts. 

You walked slowly across the small village, enjoying the crisp air and the bob of the boats in the harbour. It was calm here, away from the world, and you contemplated asking Loki if you could continue your training here instead of returning to the bustle of the compound. 

"Princess Estrid,” a deep voice said behind you. The title was new and brittle, but you assumed it must be another Asgardian, perhaps someone you once knew and, with a new found excitement, you turned to them with a smile. 

“Yes?"

And then everything went black. 

<<Part 6

Part 8>>

Gods & Goddess' mentioned.

This is just from my own reading, I'm by no means an expert, just a fan, so if you know more and want to talk to me please send me a message/ask!

Brigid - beloved Goddess from the Tuatha Dé Danann. Brigid is often cited as the goddess of spring, the dawn, fertility. Brigid is so popular she was made into a Saint as Christianity became more widespread. She's often linked to a magical cloak which gives protection to those that wear it, you can leave cloth outside of your house on Imbolc for her to bless and in some stories it's her cloak that covers the ground during winter. She's also linked to cattle and craftsmen (including metal work and those that use fire), mothers and children.

Brigid is well loved and celebrated still as a Pagan Goddess and Christian Saint.

[ponyosmom35]

going home

Simon ghost Riley x reader

Liability chapter fourteen!

summary: reader bids her friends goodbye as she readies herself to go home and deal with the aftermath of her sisters death. Having to say goodbye to Simon proved much harder than she ever imagined.

Liability masterlist:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

Simon walks into the base and hands his weapon to one of the soliders who took care of it. He pauses as he spots a familiar redhead speaking to a group of medics. He wasn’t expecting to see her again, he figured that she woud’ve left by now. Part of him was thankful that he was given another chance to say goodbye, another part wished she’d gone. Each time they spoke it was harder to push her into the back of his mind. He lingers in the area for a few minutes before her eyes find him. She hugs the medics and moves over to him holding her suitcase and bag in her hands. 

“didn't expect to see you here, thought you were leaving” he comments 

“got delayed” she says softly 

He noitces the sadness in your eyes, and the pain that's eating away at her “how have you been holding up?”

“I'm doing my best to keep my shit together” she admits sadly ”if one more person tries to talk to me about her I think I might scream, anyways how was the mission, seemed like you were in and out”

“it was just a routine operation. Not too much action or anything special” he says taking her bags and setting them on the ground. 

“I'm glad that I caught you guys before leaving” she smiles

“thought you already said your goodbyes?”

“one more can't hurt right?”

“alright, then, get to it” he jokes

“I am gonna miss you Simon, who else is gonna tell me the dumbest fucking jokes all day?” she asks, causing him to laugh.

“and you're gonna miss my brilliant sense of humor” he says this in a sarcastic, yet playful tone. “you just love to hear me talk, don't ya?”

“I like your accent” she admits,  mocking his voice

“oh, really? well you wouldn't be the first to find it charming and irresistible” he brags

She laughs loudly, playing it off as a joke, though she knew it was true. “yet another thing I'm gonna miss, your massive ego”

“a massive ego?” he questions, not even bothering to deny it “I mean, it's the truth, innit?”

“hand to god it is the truth” she admits 

“You might be the only person who can make me laugh at myself”

“someone needs to knock you down a peg” she says hitting his arm 

He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms, while maintaining a playful tone of voice, “ah yes, that's right, you used to be a real brat back then, didn't ya? thought you knew everything, and could teach me a few things” he teases

“I'm a fountain of knowledge” she shrugs 

“a fountain of pride, more like it” he teases, watching as you laugh “and a fountain of attitude”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, all that from the most arrogant and stubborn man I’ve ever met”

“just 'cause I'm the best at what I do, doesn't mean I'm arrogant or stubborn, does it?”

“I hate to break it to you but, you might just be the most-” she is cut off by Soap sprinting over to them. He hops over her luggage and wraps his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. Simon looks over to Soap and shakes his head, noticing his playful antics with her while slightly rolling my eyes, and grinning playfully to himself. 

“precious cargo suds!” she yells as she hits his back, trying to get him to set her down. Giggling at him. 

He continues to spin her, then sets her down on her feet. “ankle biter I thought you were leaving!”

“I'm leaving in ten, got delayed”

“Well that means we got time...for a game of hide and seek” He puts his hands over his face and starts counting.

“shut the fuck up, normally I wouldn't turn down an opportunity to hide from you but I'm gonna have to raincheck this time” she smiles sadly.

Soap drops his hands a sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder  “what am I gonna do here without you lass? who's gonna debate with me all day?”

“you'll just have to call me when you feel like getting verbally assaulted” she says making them laugh  “what I'm concerned about is nobody making sure you don't eat more than 12 tacos on taco Tuesday”

“12 is light work”

“you have to save some for everyone else!” she repremands, He starts rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and mumbles

“Yeah alright. I'll save some” He pauses for a moment and looks at her. his face is filled with worry. he then speaks in a more serious tone. “are you gonna be okay? should I be worried?”

“everyone keeps telling me I'll be okay eventually, I'm not sure right now. I think being with my parents is what's best right now”

“Yeah...Yeah. You'll be okay” He steps forward, and pulls her into into a hug. He holds her tight for a few seconds, and then let's go. The smile comes back to his face. “You're strong lass. One of the strongest out there. Trust me”

“thank you Johnny, I'm really gonna miss you”

“Take care of yourself alright? you know my number, you have any trouble or need anything at all, get in touch with me.”

“don't worry whenever I feel like fighting, you'll be getting a phone call”

“perfect”

“I've already got a list of stuff we're gonna discuss”

“A full list?!” he asks in shock

“ten topics and counting”

“God help me”

She leans up and kisses his cheek gently “ bye Johnny”

“Bye lass”

She spots Kyle walking through the base, he takes off his vest and she runs over to him. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. He holds her tightly and rubs her back. “Glad to see you haven’t left yet”

“Just saying my goodbyes” she admits as she pulls back

“I’m gonna miss you red”

“What are you guys gonna do without me?” she jokes

“Cry probably” 

“Me too” she laughs 

“When do you think you’ll be comin back?”

“I’m not sure” she responds 

“Take your time love, allow yourself to feel it”

“I’ll do my best” she nods 

“You’ve got my number yeah?”

“Yeah”

“I expect at least one call a week”

“How about two?” she smiles, he holds his heart

“How did I get so lucky?”

“Nobody knows” she smirks 

“Take it easy alright? Know that you’ve got people here who love you, anything you need you let us know”

“Thank you Kyle” she smiles as she hugs him once more 

“Miss you already kid” he murmurs 

“Save your tears for another day” she says pulling away as she sees Simon and Price waiting near her car. She walks up to them and Price sets his hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for all of your work here, you’re presence here will be missed”

“Thank you sir”

“Take all of the time you need, and when you’re ready, you give me a call alright?” 

“I will”

“Don’t hesitate to reach out” he says before wrapping her in a quick hug. “I’ll leave you to it Simon”

She moves closer to him with tears in her eyes. He steps forward to meet her halfway, and embraces her tightly for a long, strong hug, letting her lean her head on his shoulder, as he comforts jer and rubs her back reassuringly, all while trying hard to hold back his own tears, and his voice shaking from all of the suppressed emotion, barely able to get out a few words.

 “It's alright…” he whispers in her ear “you remember what I said?”

“I remember”

“Good…” he pulls away and gently cups both sides of her face, making sure to look deeply into her eyes, noticing how red and swollen they are from all of the crying, and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. 

“don't be a stranger ghost” she whispers “make sure you don't forget about simon, he deserves a life too”

Simon nods, and opens the vehicle door for her. He looks at her once more before shutting it. He throws her luggage in the back and hits the tuck twice. He watches as they drive away. He does not move from his spot until the vehicle disappears from his view. There she goes, the only woman he’s ever loved. 

[creative-frequency]

Raphael x Reader: Act I: The Ring

Summary: It's always the terms and conditions that you get into a mess. And with Raphael, there always seems to be a lot of those. This is the second flashback oneshot for the main story of the series. Word count: 2269 Notes: Some romantic tension, warning for (slightly drunk) int8 Tav.

My writing masterlist

Your rounds walking around the merrymaking camp had begun to resemble the tottering of a deep rothe kid. There was drinking, dancing and as tasty a cuisine as one might expect in the middle of a forest, but most importantly, everyone was alive and well. The three goblin leaders were dead, so the tieflings were free to continue their journey towards Baldur’s Gate. Your group had a little pit stop to make on the way at Moonrise Towers, but the plan was to eventually follow them – to go back home.

Wine had been flowing a bit too generously in the course of the evening, so you stepped away for a breather by the water. You had just leaned down to wash your hands in the river, when out of the corner of your eye, you saw the grass rustling.

“Who’s there?” you asked, straightening up and ready to summon a weapon into your hand.

In the grass before you stood a dark-haired dwarven woman, smiling benignly and fully given up on trying to hide. She looked at you up and down with curiosity. The woman didn’t seem to pose a threat, but you sharpened up as best as you could, already feeling dishearteningly sober.

“You’ve got keen eyes, warlock,” she said, not at all taken aback by being discovered, “Korrilla Hearthflame. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” She bowed her head down slightly as a mark of respect.

“And why is that?” you asked in suspicion, still ready to sling a bolt of fire at her if needed.

“Raphael is terribly excited about you… and your condition,” Korrilla explained.

Your shoulders relaxed at the implication.

“He is your patron too.”

“Yes, the respectable Raphael is my master.”

Out of courtesy, you fought back the urge to raise a brow or snicker at her choice of words. You were quite new to this warlock deal, but if Raphael started insisting you call him ‘master’, the deal would be off, no matter the consequences.

“You and I will have time aplenty to speak – but not tonight,” Korrilla continued and a fiery portal opened behind her, “This night is one of celebration – enjoy it while you can.”

Without any further explanation, she stepped into the portal and disappeared with a small wave of her hand. You quickly looked around, wondering how no one had seen your little talk or the light of the portal. The noise your companions and the tieflings were making was gradually increasing under the starry sky.

You decided to bring the matter of Korrilla up first thing in the morning, but for the time being there was nothing else to do besides splash some cold river water on your face and get back to the party.

Idly, you wondered would your patron himself even deign to visit you. Surely Raphael had more important matters to attend to. You tried not to be disappointed at the thought.

The party got noisier and rowdier with each passing cup of wine as you continued your rounds, chatting with your drunken companions, the celebrating tieflings, the druid Halsin and inexplicably melancholic Zevlor. From afar, you cast a wide side-eye at Withers, the skeletal companion who seemed to always know where you were going to camp next. He was the only one you had not talked to yet. No one else seemed to notice or care about him. You opted out of a discussion about the ever turning wheels of fate and paced into another direction.

Astarion was standing by his tent, nursing a cup of wine and looking uncharacteristically bored for a night of celebration. With everything he had told you about himself and his past, you would’ve thought he would be delighted in an event of such revelry.

The moment he saw you approaching, his face lit up with a charming smile. “Ah, there you are, darling.”

“Having fun?” you asked in lieu of greeting.

“Not quite as much as I would like,” Astarion said and sipped the wine. His cunning eyes scanned over you.

“Hah. Not enough of a party for you?”

“It’s missing the key element of a blood sacrifice,” he deadpanned, “The music could be… better, too.” He glanced at the bard Alfira in the middle of camp. She had been strumming her lute and singing with some of the other tieflings for hours.

Smiling playfully, you said: “Well, the night is still young. I’m sure we can find a proper sacrifice for you yet. Let’s see…”

Playfully, you looked around to complete the joke. Before you could comprehend what you saw, your heart started beating faster and you had to do a double take. The grin faltered on your lips, but Astarion was too busy draining his cup of wine to notice.

“You’re always such a delight, darling,” Astarion purred and stepped to lean in closer.

Chatting with one of the drunken tieflings, was Raphael. Your eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips and his one brow elegantly, invitingly arched.

“So, I was thinking… we could make our own entertainment,” Astarion drawled on. He ran one finger seductively down your arm as he spoke, but you barely registered it. He had been throwing some flirty remarks here and there earlier too. Most of the time you had just deflected them with a nice thank you or a laugh.

You turned Astarion’s hand out of the way, eyes fixated on your patron and didn’t know what came out of your mouth as you started to leave:

“What? Oh, sure, I guess. Hold on a moment, I’ll be right back…” 

Raphael was actually there in your little camp. He looked even more handsome than you remembered – and more relaxed. He was visibly expecting you to join him.

Astarion spread his hands in confusion, mildly offended and muttering as you brushed past him and made a beeline towards the devil.

Had Korrilla told Raphael that you were celebrating? Was it customary for a patron to check in with their warlock at such events? You had no idea what to make of it as you walked closer, heart hammering and breaths short.

Raphael said something to make the tiefling leave and turned his full attention to you. He looked impossibly complacent. The back of your neck was tingling – in excitement, you soon realised.

“Ah, good evening,” Raphael greeted you with a small bow.

Despite the lack of courtly manners, you attempted a light curtsy. It made his smile curve steeply with amusement.

“Good evening, Raphael. What are you doing here?” you said in a more composed manner than your inner turmoil let on.

Raphael spread his arms to emphasise how pleasing he thought the environment was. “I was delighted to hear you were throwing a little party to celebrate the slaughter of all those goblins. A whole camp, indeed,” he mused.

It twisted your insides when phrased like that. “That’s… correct.”

“A true testament to your skill,” he continued with an incline of his head.

You couldn’t say whether he was mocking you or not. You shifted on your feet.

“Um. Thank you,” you said and swallowed, “But surely you didn’t come here just to sing my praises?”

Raphael chuckled with mirth. “As per our agreement, I’ve come to provide you with the means to summon your patron,” he touched his chest with a hand, “Namely, myself.”

You weren’t so sure you liked his expression. “‘Means’? What ‘means’?” you asked warily, brows drawing in puzzlement.

Raphael merely crooked a smile. “Give me your hand, my little raven.”

A shiver coursed through you. “‘Raven’?” you retorted.

Ignoring the question, he said: “A gift, for you.”

Nervously, you extended your right hand to him.

“The other hand, please. We wouldn’t want to hinder your sword arm.”

Raphael reached out to take your left hand – his hands were so warm against yours that it first took you by surprise. The second surprise got you as he slid a golden ring onto your ring finger. Too thrown off to protest, you just ogled at him, slack jawed and the wine churning inside your stomach.

Wearing an almost mischievous grin, Raphael gently touched your chin and withdrew.

“Clause H, section 7; ‘The soul-bearer shall never withdraw the magical focus item from their person.’”

Blinking and looking up and down from the ring to the devil’s face and back, you couldn’t quite understand what he was reciting.

“W-what?”

Raphael pointed a finger in the air as he continued: “Clause H, section 8; ‘The soul-bearer shall only use the magical focus item to attempt to summon the soul-binder. The soul-binder shall answer the call at their discretion.’”

“Are those clauses in my contract?” you asked, still stunned and examined the ring. It was a golden, petite thing with some kind of sharp symbol engraved on it. It weighed nothing but you felt its presence on you as if it were a sack of stones. Had Raphael just said you couldn’t take the ring off? And that it was magical?

“Indeed. You are welcome to visit my House of Hope to read the contract any time you wish.” There was a teasing edge in Raphael’s tone and you wondered what it meant.

“Any more of those terms and conditions I should know about?” you asked.

Raphael chuckled. The deep sound travelled through your bones, tickling pleasantly.

“Not at present, little raven.” He lifted a finger in the air. “There is one more thing to complete the ritual.”

“Ritual?”

“Listen closely, since I will state this only once: ‘Dominus, inferior ad te me flecto inferni.”

He pronounced each word with care. Your lips moved in sync with his, involuntarily but silent. The phrase was branded into your memory and you felt the ring warm against your palm in response. It was a simple summoning ritual. As long as you held the ring, you would only need to speak those words and Raphael would know. And he might answer your call and come to you – if he felt like it.

You examined the ring once again. It looked so innocent but you could feel the power radiating from it. Speaking those words had somehow activated it. It was now primed to act as the focus item for the ritual.

“...’Flecto inferni’? What’s that supposed to mean?” you finally asked.

“Every good ritual requires a fetching verbal component,” Raphael replied patiently, hand to his chin. As if he hadn’t spent the last three days perfecting the words to go with the ritual spell.

“But the left ring finger?” you insisted, ears suddenly burning from the insinuation that you only just now  realised.

Raphael had the audacity to laugh.

“You’d better start rehearsing your lies, little raven.”

Because lie you would about what the ring symbolised. You squared your shoulders and faced the gauging look on your patron.

“Well, thank you for taking the time to bring me this,” you said.

“I will always make time for you,” he purred and chuckled.

A surge of toe-curling surprise made you look bashfully away.

“A-and thank you again.” You motioned awkwardly to yourself. “For the powers.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Raphael replied with an incline of his head, “After all, I am invested in your success. Korrilla will keep me posted on your… progress.”

Sensing that the conversation was about to end, you glanced at the ring and lifted it to better see the symbol on it.

“Will you at least tell me what the symbol on the ring is?”

Raphael’s lips curved into a sly smile. “I’m sure your friend Karlach can assist in deciphering it. Let it be a surprise.” He chuckled again, impossibly satisfied. Somehow you started thinking he was doing all this just to keep himself entertained.

“I’m afraid I’m already late for my next meeting. Ta-ta, little raven!”

Raphael bowed and disappeared in a flash of flames.

You shot a pondering look at the ring and spun to look around the camp until you found the burning red tiefling laughing loudly at something Rolan had just said. Biting your lip, you  wondered if it would be worth the trouble to ask Karlach about it. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine Raphael would give you anything nasty as a surprise. Better to take the devil by the horns. At least you would know.

“Hey, Karlach?” you waved a hand as you approached her and Rolan, who was rolling his sleeves up.

“‘Sup, soldier?”

Clearing your throat, you motioned Karlach closer. You could feel the heat radiating from her body and for a heartbeat it made you think about Raphael’s warm hand on yours. You cleared your throat again and Karlach started to look worried.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, I just… have a weird question. What does ‘dominus, inferior ad te me flecto inferni’ mean?” Grimacing, you faced the barbarian.

Karlach’s mouth was agape. She was obviously taken by surprise with what you wanted to know and you started to panic a little since you had no idea what the sentence meant. Before you could apologise, she forced her mouth shut to think while pure curiosity glinted in her eyes.

“‘Lord or Master, I bow down to you in hell.’ Or it could also be more like ‘lie down’ for them. Y’know, in a naughty, adults-only way.” She grinned. “Why?”

That fucker.

That bastard devil.

You groaned. Suddenly, you didn’t want to show the ring to Karlach anymore. You wanted to yank it off and throw it into the River Chiontar.

“...No reason.”

This devil patron and his antics would be your doom.

[d1onysusw1n3]

★ Daughter of dionysus ★

┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐬 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

"𝓘'𝓶 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼"

"𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓁𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈 "

└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

Tw: crazy with a mix of mania, heated make out, and slight sexual themes not the whole Shabang tho. 🦭🍇

You know as the daughter of Dionysus, I wasn't expected to be sane.

"Yo D whaddup!" I lazily smirk down at my dad while dapping him up.

"How's it going favorite." He returns dapping me up with a crisp smack.

Me and him don't have the most normal relationship, but  i'm okay with that, At least it's not like daddy issues over here.

I look over to some curly blonde haired kid with blue eyes, he goes on about wanting to see his father and if Dionysus could help him.

I turn on my heels immediately uninterested, actually i was thinking bout the time i drew a dick on clarisse's forehead with a black paint marker, now that was legendary. Imagine trying to scrub a giant penis off your forehead realizing that it wont budge a inch, dessert privileges were lost, but seeing clarisse with her usual smug smile wiped off and beautiful art work plastered on her forehead, was like a full course dessert table served in front of me on a golden platter.

I walk over to the black smiths to see my friends Jake and Amy, we were known to be the outcasts, we aren't children feining over glory or some bullshit praise from the gods, we were looking for trouble instead.

"Yo Jake" I slide onto the desk he sketches his new weapons project for Amy, the daughter of Hephaestus, Jake hisself was a Hermes boy, not my proudest moment befriending one of them, but he's cool in my book.

You see we're the trouble trio, my charm mixed with Jake's amazing ability to steal and Amy's ability to craft anything we needed for our stupid ideas, we were practically unstoppable.

"Whatcha drawing?" I quirk my head to the side as he quickly scrambles his notebook closed.

"Birthday surprise, don't push it anymore, Mr. D threatened to chop off my toes and feed them to tartarus if i snitched this time." Jake shuddered at the thought of my dad threatening his life. 

"Pshh light work, i would've unleashed tartarus in your room instead" I smirk at his mouth dropping wide open.

"And there goes Astrope, always one upping Mr.D's unstable craziness, somehow" Amy rolls her eyes at our bickering.

I push my wine colored hair out of my face and into a pony tail. My sea green eyes with specks of violet in the iris trails back to Luke Castellan the camps golden boy, He defines the word glory, always trying to prove something to someone, if you asked me, i think he's a garde A loser.

"Who else is gonna carry on the legacy" I say booping Jake on the nose.

"Wow very mature of you princess" Luke rolls his eyes.

"Why thank you, I think I'm rather mature myself pretty boy."

I look over to see him slightly blush and look down.

Cute.

"Anywayyys, I'm throwing a party later, thanks giving and all, who's joining." Amy takes a seat next to Jake leaning her elbows on the table.

"Why thank you for the personal invitation, but you're only throwing this party so you can scout out the new ares boy this year." I roll my eyes at her.

"And so what, the new curly brunette is fine." She says with dreamy eyes.

"Your type is brunette curly hair daddy issues and anger management." I say taking the apple Jake was eating, he prostest me with a small 'hey', but that doesn't stop me as I chomp a fat bite in the middle of said apple.

"Hands off, troglodyte. Getcha own apple" Jake huffs while snatching his apple back.

"Booo tomato tomato tomatooooo" I blow a raspberry at him as we get up to head to dinner.

Luke follows Amy on her trail like a lost puppy, everyone suspected he was whipped for her,what they didn't know was my deep crush for the boy ever since I met him, it's a horrible love triangle.

"Well if you want me to get the goods you're gonna have to distract the camps janitor." I say sitting down at the Hermes table with the three for dinner.

"Huh why?" Luke questions.

"Well Luke, Chiron find alcohol In my cabin, bad." I say slowly shaking my head.

"But if Chiron finds alcohol in the janitors cabin, he'll just think he hates his job or something." I shrug.

"So basically you're saying you hid alcohol in dito's cabin." Jake grinned at the challenge.

"That's his name?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Yeah.. what have you been calling him the whole time.." Luke looks at me crazy.

"Irrelevant.." I roll my eyes.

"So we need a plan we can't just walk into the janitors cabin and grab wine out a hiding place" Amy says munching on her celery sticks.

"Righttttt about that. I hid the alcohol there two summers ago and forgot the hiding place so we're gonna need two on watch out and two on rummage duty" I cringe.

"Astrope I should slap the living shit out of you right now. But in the fear of Tartarus and what Mr D would do to me, you are off the hook." Jake says straight faced with a finger pointed at me.

"Look here goes dito right now." Amy whispers.

"We could distract him now, then three of you can head to his cabin?" Jake said shrugging.

"How are we going to distract him." Luke says with an eyebrow raised.

I chuckle sarcastically then go straight faced looking into his eyes.

"Watch the master do her job." I say getting up from the table and turning around hitting dito on the shoulder on accident.

"OH DEER, IM SO SORR-"

I cut him off pulling a spoon out of my pocket, gripping the back of his head and pushing it to his jugular.

"ARE YOU THREATENING ME, CHUCK." I scream.

This takes everyone's attention allowing the three to sneak away.

"MY NAMES NOT CHUCK.." his voice wavers.

I pull the spoon back pointing it in this face while walking backwards.

"AND DONT FORGET IT." I yell turning around so I could sprint to dittos cabins.

┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

I slide the window to dito's cabin open abruptly falling face first onto the floor scaring the three to death.

"JESUS ASTROPE A WARNING NEXT TIME" Jake yells.

"Uhhh warning?" I shrug laying on my stomach kicking my feet back and fourth.

"How bout you get up and help look, you lost it princess." Luke says rummaging through cabinets.

"Right, check the floor I remember putting it in a secret wooden floor board that slides open." I sigh getting up looking under the bed for it.

Instead I find skimpy lace panties and diamond earrings.

"OUU EARINGS." I say dangling them by my head.

Out of no where the lunch lady walks into dittos cabin wearing a skimpy silk robe and.. I don't want to know what's under.

She clutches her heart and gasps.

"DITO GET IN HERE!!" She yells.

"FOUND IT!" Amy screams throwing the box out into the long cushioned grass.

Quick I need a distraction.

I take out my blow torch lighter and fire it over by the sheer curtains hanging by dittos bed.

"YEAH DITO GET IN HERE! SO YOU CAN WATCH ME LIGHT YOUR HOUSE ON FIRE." I scream back at her.

I look around to see Luke scramble out the window so I jump out with him and close it behind me.

Amy takes the box and run with all of us behind her we make our grand escape behind Zeus's cabin deep into the woods where a bunch of the people in on the party we're helping us by decorating.

"REALLY? LIGHT YOUR HOUSE ON FIRE ASTRO?" Jake yells at me waving his hands around.

"Well it worked I didn't see you making a distraction?" I roll my eyes.

Everyone just looks at me stupidly shaking their heads. Jake even started to boo me, followed with a train of boos.

I hop on a log pointing at them all.

"GIVE ME YOUR BOOS I AM NOURISHED, BY YOUR HATRED." I yell.

┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

Luke pov

To say Astrope was crazy is an understatement. To be honest I don't know how I even developed a crush on her.

It just happened, her crazy and flirty attitude just draws me in somehow. It's like a drug, you taste some and it's never ending.

To say she was the daughter of the god of ecstasy was an understatement.

She just seems so carefree and untouchable. It's hard to make a move on someone who never takes anything seriously.

┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

Astrope pov

Surprisingly the party so far was a success.

even after our scandalous breaking and entering fiasco.

Many people were having fun, except for Amy. The ares boy she had her eye on, and even asked out, had ditched her to talk to a pretty Aphrodite kid.

I see her and Luke talking, him resting a hand on her shoulder for comfort. It kind of ticked me off, but bros before hoes yall.

I sigh grabbing my dagger out of my holster sitting down next to Luke and her by the lake in the sand.

a couple of feet away from the party in the woods. Nobody could really see us, but I noticed her running off and Luke trailing behind her, so I followed.

"Who are we killing. I won't do kids that's a rule. BUT the rule is negotiable if the kids a dick." I say wiggling my eyebrows.

And to my success it makes her laugh, I smile putting my dagger back into my thigh holster.

"How do you do it astrope" Amy sighs looking down.

"If you mean being absolutely funny and the hottest one in the room, don't stress it comes natural babe. Ya either got it or ya don't" I smirk flexing whiling grunting.

"You see that, you seem so care free all the time, I don't know how you do it."

"I don't." I shrug

"What does that mean." Luke questions.

"I just don't, I don't care nor have I ever, I just do me"

"If it was up to me, I'd push the girl aside tell him that I like him and that he can either take all this or shove it." I say with a trashy Jersey accent.

Amy lunges over luke to hug me tightly.

"I don't know what I'd do without you girl." She whispers in my ear. Then hopping on her feat she takes a deep breath and starts walking in her crushes direction.

I chuckle laying down in the sand, a small tide washes over my bare feet as the full moon pushes the river.

"You know you're right princess" Luke says.

I turn my head to see him already looking at me.

"Yeah and what about pretty boy." I whisper sitting up leaning closer to him.

"About caring too much." He sighs looking down.

I frown scooting over to push some of his hair back, he leans his face into my touch. I blush deeply, luckily the moons shine wasn't too bright.

"Princess, I like you." Luke whispers to me, his hot breath dusting my cheeks.

"I like you more pretty boy." I smile.

He leans in closing in the space between us kissing me deeply with need.

The kiss was sloppy and fast. It was heavy with need, not really caring who took control, just needing an outlet for these suppressed feelings.

Laying down as he crawls on top of me. His fingers slip around my throat grabbing hold of my jaw with his finger tips, his other hand sliding up the side of my thigh griping it with such strength I knew bruising would definitely show up int he morning.

I slide one of my hands under his shirt feeling his defined stomach, the other hand snaking around the back of his head to grip onto the back of his curls slightly tugging on them.

He groans into my mouth as I push my hips up into his allowing me to release some built up tension while he marks my neck up and down with sloppy kisses and bites.

"Fuck, princess I need you." He groans panting and sweaty.

I sit up immediately taking his hand leading him to my cabin.

As soon as we get in he grabs me by the back of my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist slamming the door closed behind us he lays me down on the bed taking no time with slipping our close off discarding them around the room.

"Are you sure about this princess" he says just when he lines up collecting slick from how wet I am.

"Yes Luke jus need you." I whine arching my back when he finally pushes in.

Our groans almost pornographic as I could only see straight stars. I wrap my arms around his back scratching down.

He groans snapping his hips harder with more force.

I'm definitely gonna be sore in the morning.

┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

I wake in the morning with Luke laid on his stomach arm wrapped around my waist as I lay on my back.

I get up leaning on my elbows looking at all the scratches left on his back from the previous night. As well as the hickies running up from his jugular down to his stomach.

I smile tracing all of the cute little reminders to all the girls that might think that have a chance, that they don't.

"Morning princess" his deep morning voice grumbles out.

"Morning pretty boy, how'd u sleep?"

"Good" he gets up kissing me on my temple.

"You know sooner or later you have to get up and sneak back to ur cabin before my dad throws a fit." I say tolling my eyes.

"Yeah I know" he sighs getting up slinging on his shirt and pants sitting back down on the bad to give you a kiss.

"See you later princess" He says opening my window and escaping into the back of the cabins.

I sigh not really believing yesterday happened. All of a sudden I hear an obnoxious banging on my cabin.

I get dressed with Luke's hoodie and my shorts underneath. Only to open the door face to face with my father.

"Burn your house down.. really?" He scoffs.

"So you're angry?" I squint, just happy the topics not about a cute tall muscular brunette who just hopped out my window moments ago.

"Where is it." He whispers looking around frantically like someone would hear him.

"What?"

"The alcohol I know you have it."

I shake my head smiling.

"Well halfway into the party Chiron busted us and took it, sorryyyyy" I say slamming the door in his face laying back down to sleep.

It's six in the morning and too early for this, I'll deal with the mess I made later...or never.

Sooo ts is long and messy I'll fix it later.

Words: 2,545

Can you tell who inspired this whole chapter 🤗🤗 guess in the comments lmao.

[karma1love]

Just perfect

Pairing:death the kid x black reader

Warnings:none

Summary:death the kid meets soul sister while he was walking on the street and falls head over heels im love with her because of how perfect she is.

In the illustrious Death City, the meister known as Death the Kid roamed the streets with his loyal weapons, Liz and Patty Thompson, by his side. Known for his impeccable symmetry and obsession with perfection, Kid was always on the lookout for any asymmetrical disturbances in the world around him.

One day, while Kid was inspecting a suspiciously crooked building, he caught sight of a young black woman with (h/c) knotless braids and captivating (e/c) eyes. She had an air of confidence and a mischievous smile that intrigued Kid. Intrigued by her unique beauty and captivated by her mysterious aura, Kid approached her with his usual charm and precision.

“Excuse me, miss,” Kid said, his voice filled with curiosity, “I couldn't help but notice your presence. Your symmetry is absolutely stunning. Might I inquire as to your name?”

The young woman turned to face him, her smile widening. “My name is Y/N Evans,” she replied. “And who might you be?”

Kid couldn't help but be enamored by her response. An Evans? Could she be related to Kid's close friend, Soul Evans? The thought excited him, and he couldn't help but let his affectionate side shine through.

“I am none other than Death the Kid,” he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “And might I say, Y/N, your presence has brought an extraordinary sense of balance to my world.”

Y/N chuckled softly, finding Kid's obsession with symmetry endearing. As they continued to converse, they discovered that they shared a love for art, philosophy, and, most importantly, a passion for fighting. Time seemed to fly as they discussed their deepest desires and dreams, forming a connection that felt like it was destined to be.

In the following weeks, Kid and Y/N found themselves spending more time together, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Kid admired Y/N's strength and determination, while Y/N was fascinated by Kid's unwavering dedication to justice and his unique way of seeing the world.

Soul on the other hand was so confused. Why was his sister hanging aloud with kid.

As their friendship blossomed, Kid's feelings for Y/N deepened. He found himself falling head over heels in love with her, captivated by her every movement, every smile, every word. It was as if Y/N was the missing piece in his symmetrical heart.

One fateful day, Kid finally gathered the courage to confess his feelings to Y/N. They were standing at their favorite spot in Death City, overlooking the sunset, its vibrant colors reflecting in their eyes.

“Y/N,” Kid began, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. “Since the day we met, you've brought so much joy and balance into my life. Your presence, your smile, everything about you… I've fallen deeply in love with you.”

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her heart racing. She had grown fond of Kid's eccentricities and his unwavering loyalty, but she never expected him to feel this way. Her face heated up as she searched for the right words to respond.

“Kid,” she whispered, her voice filled with both uncertainty and warmth. “I never thought that someone like you could see me in such a way. Your dedication to justice and your unique perspective on the world have always fascinated me. And now, knowing that you feel the same way… I think I've fallen for you, too.”

A sense of relief washed over Kid as he heard Y/N's response. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness, as if the entire world had aligned perfectly in their favor. They stood there, basking in their newfound love, as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a sky filled with stars.

Y/n then leaned in and kissed kid on both sides of his cheeks.kid blushed. I'm so happy that I met you, y/n said.

[mysoulspiralbound]

drew the Omori party in outfits a little more fit for their adventures than there pj's

explanations, dnd classes, close up's, and Mari & Basil under the cut

Omori is the party's bard, despite looking and acting like a rogue. as both an artist and a poet, i thought bard suited him better. working with his monochrome color palette was a challenge, but i'm really happy with how it turned out. a fun fact is that me wondering where the heck omori was keeping a knife on his person (combined with my horror at him running around deep well in his socks) is what inspired this design series. i'd like to imagine that Mewo is his familiar.

Aubry is a barbarian based on her focus on strong attacks and her ability to channel her anger into large damage. i tried to keep the shaping and color of these designs mostly the same, though obviously more embellished, as she's literally running around barefoot in a nightgown in cannon. sturdy gloves and boots are an adventuring must, and i picked her meteor hammer cause i think it's her coolest weapon. i will never understand why Sweatheart's pillow somehow deals more damage.

Kel is a kind of trickster rouge — he's not great at stealth, but he's got the highest dex of the party and he's not bad at traps. he's got a lot of colors in his shirt which was kind of a challenge, and i really went back and forth on what player class to give him. his pouch is for additional amo, and his gloves are based on archers globes, since he's the only one who uses ranges weapons in the party. if i redoing this, i would might get rid of his undertunic and/or leg wraps. they were added for protection, but i feel they're mostly just cluttering up the design.

lastly, Hero is a paladin, based both on his healing abilities and his knight in shining armor energy. i picked pink as his accent color cause it contrasted best while still remaining in the omori pallet. his pj's were the hardest to match into a proper adventurer's outfit, so Hero's armor is largely independent of his canon design. the rose on his chest is a reference to his charming personality, the chivalry expected of knights, and his flower from basil's garden. it's also there to fill space, as his design was looking a little to plain otherwise. his kitchen knife is gold to match his little sparkles and to avoid having it blend too deeply into his armor.

Basil definitely has some strong "your princess is in another castle vibes, so that's what i went with for his outfit. he's got his classic flower crown, and i tried to put as much plant imagery as possible into his dress. i switched the princes gloves for gardening ones in his redesign, as well as changing how the dress layered so the lacing didn't run all the way down the garment. the frills on his sleeves and hem are designed to look like petals!

last but not least it's Mari! i've kind of got two versions of her, but i do very much like both. first, i drew her as a wizard, based a little bit on gandalf's habit of showing up, lending the party a helping hand before disappearing to do "important wizard stuff." she's important and helpful when she shows up, but ultimately, the party has to do things on their own. her spell component pouch and her staff both have her picnic basket theming added, as it's symbolic of her healing abilities and the safety she provides the party.

the other version i drew of her leaned more towards cleric based on her role as healer. she'd be a deeply religious figure, possibly having it be revealed later on that she's more powerful than the party knows. i incorporated her picnic pattern here as well, and kept the style of her shoes, since she is literally the only one of the main six who wears them in the dreamscape. like wizard!Mari, her necklace and the ribbon around her head are both callbacks to the ribbon tied around her neck in her original design.

[dominos-palast]

Teach me some bad words

Fandom: Alice in Borderland

Pairing: (platonic) Chishiya x gn!reader, (platonic) Kuina x gn!reader

Characters: Shuntaro Chishiya, Hikari Kuina, Suguru Niragi

Used Pronouns: They/Them

Genre: funny

Warnings: some cursing words

A/N: Don’t ask me why Chishiya from all people is playing a spades game, just accept it and move on

P.S.: Reader flirts with a tiger than proceeds to smack the tiger with a walking stick

Summary: You ask Chishiya and Kuina to teach you some bad words in Japanese. You don’t speak Japanese.

Word Count: 0.8k

your native language wasn’t Japanese

to be honest, you can barely speak the language

you were supposed to be enjoying your holidays

instead, you were obligated to join these death or life games

and that’s exactly what you were about to do

You sat on the floor staring at the people walking into the waiting room while stuffing chips in your mouth. Beside you stood Chishiya in his iconic stance, leaning against the wall, and with his hoodie on.

“Teach me bad words”

Kuina, who stood beside Chishiya, chewing on her fake cigar, sent Chishiya a warning look. Chishiya looked down hesitantly, remembering the last time he answered one of your wishes. “Why do you want to learn bad words?”

You shrugged, “If I’m going to insult someone they might as well understand me.” Your eyes met his. You stayed like that for a solid one minute. You were expecting him to teach you the whole Japanese thesaurus for cursing words and to make sure of it, you activated your ultimate weapon: the puppy eyes.

The fake blonde straight-up ignored you. He just looked back up, lost in thought.

Was it wise to teach bad words to you? Especially to you? In the best-case scenario, you would use them wisely. Worst case scenario, your dumb ass would cause the next world war. That was the problem of you being a chaotic, dumb genius. At the same time, he was curious about how you would use the newly acquired knowledge. But again, he wouldn’t want to be responsible for that chaos.

You pulled from his jacket, demanding attention. “Oi, teach me a bad word. Chishiya, Chishiya, Chishiya, Chishiya, Chishiya”, you could go on for days if it meant getting what you wanted. “No, he won’t do it.”, Kuina looked down at you with a strict expression on her face and you stopped your actions immediately. Your eyes went from the shorter to her, then to him again and finally to her. A smile crept on your face. “Kuiiinnaaaa”, your face beamed with excitement the moment you spoke it again, “Can you teach me a bad word?” Chishiya couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked at Kuina expectantly.

“Okay”, she positioned herself in front of you. Neither Chishiya nor you had expected her to give in to your pleas. But he would soon realise her original plan. “あなたは美しいです”, she said. You blinked, “come again?”. She rolled her eyes and repeated the sentence until you had it right. “What does it mean?” “You filthy pig”. Chishiya smirked shaking his head. You smiled happily and mumbled the sentence several times for yourself before the game started.

The game consisted in escaping the area alive, as some zoo animals would be running wild and free, waiting for their next meal.

Hopefully not you

Niragi was having the time of his life shooting at the animals from afar. His maniacal laugh echoed throughout the whole place, just like the shooting sounds. “あなたは美しいです!  あなたは美しいです!!” Niragi looked down, trying to find the source of the noise. Then he saw you running away from a tiger as if it depended on your life. Which it actually did. It was nice to see you fearing for your life, but why on earth were you screaming “you are beautiful” so aggressively? He shook his head. You do you, he thought. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried flirting with your opponent to save your own ass. Maybe it could work, who knows how strong your charm was. He shrugged and continued blasting off the heads of the animals.

----------------- 

 Chishiya and Kuina were taking cover behind some vegetation, discussing the next steps, when they suddenly heard you screaming the words Kuina had taught you at the beginning. They looked in your direction, only to see you smaking the same tiger that had been pursuing you throughout the whole game with a metallic walking stick. The tiger had been shot several times by some beach people while you were running, and now the tiger was weaker and more vulnerable. Not only the tiger’s body was hurt, but also his ego, as he was hit with a stick by a young adult and getting destroyed by it. “ あなたは美しいです, you motherfucker!”

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

“Should we stop them?”, said Kuina in between amusement and concern. “No, let them blow some steam.” Chishiya smiled satisfied. This was worth remembering, “Are you going to tell him?” “What? That that’s not an actual insult? They’ll figure it out, eventually”, she chuckled, and finally went to your aid.

[zukkaart]

For the ships prompts 5 and 14

Y'all are being Tyzula WHORES today (I love you anyway)

Couple #5: Ty Lee x Azula

Prompt #14: “You’re hurting me!”

For the prompt game!

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

An untold meeting with the gaang, the Spring before Sozin’s comet

The three young women peered over a rock, the Avatar and his little group were seemingly setting up camp for the night.

“Alright ladies here’s the plan,” Azula side eyed them both as she spoke, “It seems like they each have tasks, we’ll wait for them to split up, then pick them off one by one,” The two women nodded in acknowledgment.

“Mai, take the water bending peasant, Ty Lee, you take the boy. The avatar is mine” With that, they parted ways.

~~~

Ty Lee crept along the tree line- staying silent and patiently waiting for the avatar and girl to leave.

“Okay, I’ll find something for us to eat, Aang do you want to get fire wood?”

“Sure thing Katara!” The Avatar zoomed off in to the woods, seemingly lifted by nothing. Ty Lee had never seen an air bender before- well- almost no one had nowadays. She was mesmerized.

Soon after the bender (Katara?) left as well. Finally.

Planting her signature dazzling smile she all but waltzed in to their camp. No need to be stealthy when her charms worked just as well.

“Hey cutie, long time no see,” She leaned over him where he knelt- laying out his sleeping bag,

“Aaah!” He yelled and turned around, reaching for that weird weapon he kept strapped across his back. She did always wonder what it was, it looked like someone attempted to make a sword, but did it very wrong.

Ty Lee danced around him casually as he tried to pin her down.

“You never told me your name cutie,” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, he wiped it off but didn’t look entirely appalled. She noted that,

“It’s Sokka, water tribe”

“Well Sokka water tribe. I’m Ty Lee” she cartwheeled a safe distance away from him. “Nice to meet you”

“I wish I could say the same, what are you doing here? I thought you were after that pony tailed freak,”

“Oh we are,” She folded her arms behind her casually, Sokka held his…knife? In a defensive position, “But the avatar is an even better prize”

“We?”

“You think I’m here alone? I’m just the distraction silly!” Realization passed across the dark boys face, he turned on his heel to take off in the direction that the avatar left, but Ty Lee stepped in front of him. “I don’t think so Sokka,”

With a few quick jabs she disabled his dominant leg, he collapsed to one knee.

“Sorry about that gorgeous, I can’t have you interrupting her highness, can’t we just sit and chat?”

“In your dreams circus freak,”

“Yes,” She replied with a giggle, “since we’re here, why don’t you tell me what that is?”

“What what is?” He glanced at the blade still in his hand, “You mean boomerang?” She saw a thought pass across his features, and before she knew it- he threw it towards her. She simply side stepped and it missed her.

“Well that’s not terribly effective, is it? I expected more from the Southern Water Tribe” She taunted. What a ridiculous weapon. “But dont worry, you’ll get your leg back in a few hours. We’ll be long gone by then, but hey, if you’re ever in the Fire Nation look me up,” She winked

“Ty Lee!” Azula’s voice came from the edge of the woods. She ran up to her as smooth as ever. “The Avatar got away, I couldn’t follow him without setting this whole forest on fire, Zuko is too close- we can’t risk tipping him off,”

“Okay Azula!” But just as she turned to leave, the world went black

~~~

Azula watched in horror as that weapon the boy was so fond of came seemingly out of nowhere and slammed right in to Ty Lee’s back. She crumpled, blood quickly beginning to run down her back.

“Ty Lee!” Azula rushed forward and caught her before she could hit the ground, pressing their fronts together, The smaller girls head lolled on to her shoulder.

“Sokka!” The water tribe girl came rushing from the tree line, seemingly to her brother’s aid, but froze in her tracks when she took in the scene before her.

“Sokka, what did you do?” Katara had yet to fully grasp the reality of war, she of course wasn’t dumb enough to think they had never caused any casualties, but she did her best to avoid it when possible, and Sokka always made a point to shield her from the direct kills. So seeing this… she didn’t know how to react in any way other than her nature.

Katara took a hesitant step forward, reaching out a hand. “Azula I can help, please let me,”

“Get away from her!” Azula snarled, tears beginning to flow freely down her face. “Ty Lee, Ty Lee wake up!” She began to shout desperately. She reached for the thing sticking out of her back.

“Azula don’t!” Katara moved closer, something like genuine concern splayed across her face. “If you just rip that out you could hurt her more, even sever her spine. You could kill her,”

“She’s already dead!” Azula screamed, slowly losing grip on her rational thoughts,

“No. She isn’t, but she will be if you don’t let me help you,” Azula could do nothing but hold her friend tighter as Katara hesitantly inched forward. She brought water to her palms. Azula braced for an attack, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of Ty Lee.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Katara said, finally kneeling in front of her. The water tribe boy hadn’t moved behind them, she wasn’t unaware of him but she was too distracted to ponder too much why he wasn’t attacking. She took the small mercy from Agni as the water benders hands began to glow.

“What are you doing?!” Azula yanked her away, the water splashed around them,

“I’m healing her, please don’t move. You could make it a lot worse.” Azula was hesitant, but she would take any chance for her friend right now. Katara then grabbed the object in one hand, glowing water in the other. She slowly edged it out as she supposedly “healed” her as she went. Azula did her best to keep her breathing steady, which was surprisingly easy due to her training.

The object was finally removed, and a couple of moment later Katara stood and quickly backed away. “There, she’ll be fine,” Azula didn’t have to be told twice as she scooped the still unconscious Ty Lee in to her arms and sprinted back off in to the woods without even a word.

Once she deemed them a safe distance she fell back on to her knees, tears beginning to wane just slightly. She was still hopelessly worried, but she took solace in the fact that at least there wasn’t a weapon sticking out of her and the bleeding had stopped.

Still, she held Ty Lee in to her chest as tightly as she could, and began rocking back and forth and muttering, “please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please-“

“Azula?” Came a broken voice, the princess sucked in a sharp breath.

“Ty Lee? What is it? What do you need?”

“You’re hurting me”

Azula noticed her crushing grip and half-laughed half-sobbed in relief as she loosened her grip.

“For Agni’s sake Ty Lee I thought you were dead!” Once she was sure the little acrobat wasn’t in fact dead- her worry was quickly replaced with anger and frustration.

“What? Why? Were you… crying?” Ty Lee reached up from where she still laid in Azula’s arms to brush her wet cheek with the back of her hand.

“Yes you idiot! I thought I lost you!” Ty Lee should have been startled at Azula’s anger- but she was used to her concern coming out as aggression.

“Hey, I’m okay. I’m right here. I don’t know what happened- but I’m okay,” The next thing she knew- the princesses lips were on hers. She pulled away for a moment, “Now I’m really confused, what is happening right now?”

Azula huffed and rolled her eyes, “Just shut up,” Were Azula’s only words before her lips crashed on to hers once more

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

Eeek! This one was definitely short and sweet but I kind of love it. I hope you do too!

Xoxo

[matchstixx]

The People We Think We Know

Chapter 3

Pairing: Tobirama x fem!Reader

WC: 1,661

CW: None (9.20.2024)

This is shorter than I wanted to make it, but the more I tried to add to it, the more forced and clumsy it felt. So, I figured it was a sign and left it at this. The next chapter is longer however.

Read on Ao3

[Series Master List]

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The eyes follow you not only in the main village, but also within the house itself.

You aren’t surprised to know that Tajima and Yoko don’t fully trust you. Even with the matriarch’s obvious excitement with dressing you up and pampering you like the daughter she doesn’t have, her eyes follow your movements at meal times and during your embroidery lessons. Tracking how your hands grip and move the needle, scrutinizing each twitch to find any hint of weapons training.

Tajima openly questions the calluses on your hands, with skepticism. Your explanation leads to you working with the farmers for a couple days to report on your truthfulness. Supposedly they back up your claims as you haven’t been kicked out or executed yet. The clan head assigns you lessons and chores about the house expected and required of a ward of the Uchiha mainline.

You make quick work of getting on the sides of the common folk in the village. Wanderers that have assimilated into the clan and pledged allegiance, as well as many from the Kurama clan that has been practically absorbed into the clan with the amount of arranged marriages that have come about between the two groups. You help people wash and hang their clothes, chop and stack wood for the winter, refill the food troughs, and replenish the dowsing water in the blacksmith shops. Those who had surnames before they claimed the ‘Uchiha’ one blatantly adore you with the work you put in. They chatter about how charming and helpful you are, that you make your keep to repay the clan head’s generosity of sheltering you.

The elders don’t like you. And the Uchiha branches close to the mainline distrust you, wary and disgust filled glares following you through the village as you complete your chores and lessons. Both groups whisper their vitriol filled concerns to Tajima about spies and ‘lineage disruptors’, out of ‘concern’ for the mainline to the Uchiha name. They mostly go ignored by the man in favor of trusting his wife’s discernment.

While Madara doesn’t trust you, he openly scoffs at any of the rumors he hears about you. He loudly claims you to be ‘too simple’ to be a threat, and accuses the gossipers of questioning the decisions of his father and distinguished clan head. He used to only refer to you curtly by your given name, until Tajima chastised him about being respectful. Now, he begrudgingly adds ‘-san’ onto your name with an amusing flush of embarrassment and irritation.

Kou is shy but receptive to you, excitedly calling out to you as ‘[Name]-chan’ to show you his latest artworks and smiling with suppressed excitement when you lavish them with praise. He’ll tie back his sleeves to help you with your chores when he finishes his own or stack some of his own food onto your plate at dinner when Yoko has made something that he knows that you particularly enjoy.

The other two middle brothers are infatuated with their curiosity of you. Kuro and Togakushi giggle and snicker from where they peak from behind doors, sometimes playing pranks on you or roping you into helping them pull a trick on Madara. At night, they’ll drag you to their room to have you tell them a story or will pull their futons into your room after a particularly scary nightmare. They start to call you Ane-ue-chan, with a level of mocking to it that really leans into their own form of fondness for you.

Izuna is too young to really understand that you aren’t related to him, or the full scope of the situation you are in. Yoko will pass him to you when she starts to prepare food, and he’ll clutch at the front of your clothes with a squealing cheer of ‘nee-nee’. Madara seethes at you for the nickname, especially when Izuna starts bawling anytime there is any indication of the eldest brother trying to hold him.

—

The blast of war horns warning of an incoming raid surprises you one day as you are practicing your calligraphy under the watchful gaze of Yoko-sama (she’s been pushing you to call her ‘Yoko-san’ recently, much to Madara’s displeasure which has kept you from accepting at the moment). The matriarch is up in a flash, kimono and haori swirling around her in a whirlwind that is far more graceful than the panic ensuing from outside should indicate.

Kou comes in, corralling all of his younger brothers into the room followed by Madara who is struggling to pull on a set of armor that is too big for him. Yoko returns barely a second later with her own armor on and hakama pulled over her legs. You gape at the giant, familiar war fan held in her grasp as she turns to her eldest with a serious look, “Madara, you are staying here.”

Madara finally pulls his head through the neck hole of the armor, plates rattling with alarm. “What? No, Haha-ue, I’m eight now, and I know that I can’t go with Chichi-ue until I turn ten, but everyone says I’m so advanced already and a genius–!”

“No, Madara,” She lays a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I have a more important job for you. I need you to watch after your brothers and [Name]-chan.”

Madara scoffs at your name, head turning to the side and Yoko can’t help but chuckle at his attitude. She squeezes his shoulder firmly to grab his attention once more, crouching to his level.

“How about this: you have been doing really well in your training, so I’ll give you one of my prized weapons.” She unhooks a kama from her side, flipping the handle towards Madara. She pulls it away slightly when he grasps at it with a gaping, starstruck look. “ But, only if you promise to stay here and protect your brothers and [Name]-chan.”

“I’ll protect my brothers!” Madara exclaims immediately. Yoko raises an expectant brow at him with a tilt of her head; he grumbles, “And [Name]-san.”

She smiles, setting the handle into his outstretched hand before standing up, laughing as he swats at her fingers brushing through his hair. Yoko is out of the door with a bustle of wind that sends your papers scattering, the shoji whirling shut behind her with a gust. Madara stares at your gaping expression that fixates on the door, preening with pride at how dazzled you are by his family's capabilities and prowess.

“Haha-ue is responsible for protecting the clan when Chichi-ue is away. She’s never been defeated,” he says, nose turning up into the air as he takes up a stance by the door, newly acquired kama in hand and kunai in the other.

Kou takes up guard at the other door, a tanto shaking lightly in his grasp. The other three boys curl up with you, Izuna hiding his face in your lap with a whimper of fear. Your eyes flicker to Madara’s glare, irritation at his youngest brother’s fondness for you and not him palpable. An idea coalesces in your head, between Kou’s fear and Madara’s ego, Izuna becoming a perfect catalyst to further worm your way into their lives and trust.

You smile down to Izuna, brushing a hand over his messy cow-lick filled hair. “Ne, Izuna-kun, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Your super, strong Madara-nii-san will protect you.”

“Why can’t you protect me, nee-nee?” His question wobbles out as he looks up to you with tearful eyes.

You feel the burn of Madara’s glare turn inferno hot.

“Ah, well, I’m not really a fighter, you know?” Your expression pinches with the awkwardness of maintaining the ruse. “But your older brother is really cool, he’s really strong and awesome at fighting! He’ll totally protect all of us.”

“Really?” Izuna sends the eldest a dazzled look that makes Madara flush some before puffing up and giving him a succinct nod that he no doubt thinks will make him look cooler. You shove away the eye roll that tries to surface before gauging Kou’s nerves. There is still a tension to his shoulders, ready to jump to action, but tremors no longer wrack his stance; a more determined look filling his eyes at the reassurance of his older brother’s presence.

The sounds of battle persist for two hours before quiet overtakes the grounds. The two brothers both tense at the sound of a door opening before relaxing when Yoko turns the corner. She’s covered in blood, primarily of which is not her own, a smile adorning her lips and only small cuts and bruises marring her visage. She holds her arms open to accept Izuna’s incoming hug, the boy giggling as she places kisses all over his face.

Yoko picks the boy up before moving to check on each of her sons, cupping Kou’s face with a gentle and understanding smile at the distress in his posture. She tickles her two troublemakers, Kuro and Toga squealing and squirming away from her fingers. Finally, a proud smile pulls her lips as she looks at Madara’s ramrod stance, too-big armor clacking at the smallest movements, and places a kiss on his forehead that he immediately refutes with a faux gagging sound.

Her eyes finally track over to you, asking how you’re faring. There is a careful, assessing look in her gaze, watching each wrinkle and flex of the skin of your face. The barest of seconds pass before you give her a smile, that you hope comes off as relieved, as you reassure her that you’re fine. You make no mention of how the eyes you always felt had only intensified when the raid started, measuring your worth and any possible involvement you could have with the attackers.

Her eyes flicker between yours for a moment before returning a similar smile. The pressure of unknown eyes lessen, but doesn’t disappear; even as you close the door of your room and slide into sleep for the night.

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[wordtotherose]

Elizia wakes up groggy and disoriented. 

There's a warm wall at her back that she quickly identifies as Karlach from the familiar snoring. Her own breaths are shallow and her chest aches, lungs feeling like they'll never be full of air again. Some sort of sleeping powder then. She keeps her eyes closed, keeping up the ruse of being unconscious still. They've been strung together with chains and left to sit propped up by each other; judging by how much her body aches from the uncomfortable position and the numbness in her legs stretched awkwardly in front of her, they have been here a while. 

The last thing she remembers clearly is deciding to stop in at the Flophouse for a quick drink with Karlach before they returned to their rooms at the Inn after a covert trip out of the city to hunt and bottle up some blood for Astarion. It had been Karlach's idea, having brought up that the bite marks on her neck had nearly healed over for once so where was Astarion getting his sustenance in the city? The only answer Elizia could think of was the rats, the city guard having rounded up everybody's livestock for war supplies and thus made them inaccessible to a dubiously moral vampire spawn. So, with as many empty glasses as they could find and a couple of cooling charms from Gale, they'd headed off to put their plan into action. It had gone better than either of them had expected and, with a couple of bags of blood wrapped in rags to stop them clinking suspiciously, they'd decided a drink was in order. 

Then it got a bit...nothing. 

Her coat was missing, the armoured weight absent and the bags were definitely gone. Left in only one of Astarion's ridiculous shirts underneath she felt horrendously exposed, their weapons had obviously been confiscated but so had her hidden daggers and knives. Even the ones in her boots. Whoever had them knew what they were doing. 

Shifting slightly to try and encourage bloodflow back to her legs, Elizia spreads her fingers over the floor trying to suss out if they were still in the flophouse. It's a maybe but the lack of sunlight through a window worries her, why the darkness? It wasn't late when they returned and unless they'd been out for hours it shouldn't have been this dark. 

"Petras. She's awake." A woman's voice, not too far away, a small room maybe. 

The creak of a bed, the shift of sheets having been moved by someone standing or sitting. Petras, probably. 

"Open your eyes, pretty one, there's no point hiding." 

Continue on AO3 or under the cut

She kept her expression neutral as she looked up at their captors. A man and a woman. Pale. Familiar. 

The bar... they'd come over, tried seducing her and Karlach. Karlach had liked the woman, laughed loudly at her jokes. The man hadn't taken no for an answer very well, fingers on her thigh inching up and about to be broken before Karlach said something and then things went fuzzy. 

"Hello, it's nice to see those eyes again," he leans forward to brush a loose hair out of her face and she decides to go for broke and bite at his fingers. 

He recoils before zeroing in on her neck and suddenly he has her by the jaw, harshly turning her head up and away, straining her already sore neck. 

"Dal, here. Now. Look at this."

The woman comes to stoop over Petras' crouched form holding up a candle to illuminate Elizia's freckled skin.

"Shit. How?"

Petras pushes again, slamming her head back into Karlach's who lurches awake with a grunt of surprise. The two take no notice of her. 

Petras speaks first, voice low and ominous. "A bag of blood vials. Bite marks on your neck. And your friend spoke his name as if friends. Tell me. Where is he?"

Elizia's eyes harden.

Ah.

Right

Of course.

She grits her teeth and says nothing.

"He can't turn you, you know? And he certainly doesn't care for you, he isn't capable." She wants to slice those touching fingers off so badly. "Protecting him isn't in your favour. Tell us where he is, and what he's doing back, and we'll let you go."

"Tav?" Karlach's still disoriented, they must have had to double dose her or hit her round the head too to take her down. "Where are we?"

A good question. 

The room looks incredibly basic, a couple of beds and chests at their feet, a window covered by a heavy black curtain which explains the darkness. Now she's paying attention to her surroundings in a relatively more lucid manner, she can pick up the bustle of the tavern going on below them and the occasional tread of footsteps outside the door. 

They've been taken upstairs, that's all. Makes it easier to hope that at least one of their companions will notice their prolonged absence and start looking around for them. Shadowheart maybe. Gale for sure will notice, worrier through and through when he looks up from his books. Halsin. Halsin would have noticed. Would have gone straight to Astarion who will brush it off until he couldn't in good conscience any longer, that will be hours yet.

Dal leans over her brother to grip Elizia's hair with sharp nails scratching her scalp. "Tell us what we want to know. We will leave you and your friend out of it, we only want him."

"Don't touch her!" Karlach snaps, wriggling in the chains. 

She stays silent until Petras delivers a painfully strong slap that has her head snapping and hair pulling in Dal's grip. 

She laughs. This is absurd. Ridiculous. How is this her life?

Karlach is fuming, spitting insults until she has Dal's full attention and rags tied round her mouth, Elizia guesses, to shut her up. Dal returns to stand over her, a hand on Petras' shoulder. 

"You cannot be so stupid as to think he will come to help you," she says, gentle as if she thinks she's breaking some terrible news to Elizia. "At best you're the first person to let him feed willingly now he's gotten out but he can always find another. He will find another, it's what he does. And if he's back in the city then he's throwing away whatever it took him to escape in the first place. Cazador will know. We will have to tell him, we have no choice. And then Cazador will come for him, and he is not forgiving. He will be used in the ritual and discarded, at the absolute best. Tell us where he is and we can warn him."

Anger writhes under her control at that, sparking. She bares her teeth at them both and pushes into their hands to be as close to their faces as possible as she growls out her only words for them.

"Go. Fuck. Yourselves."

She wholeheartedly expects pain in retaliation, Karlach is clearly thinking the same given her renewed writhing, but instead…

Instead, there's a scuff of shoes behind the door and a brisk knock. 

The whole room stills. Heavy silence. The spawn siblings look at the door. Elizia looks at the spawn. Karlach, facing the door herself, is also looking at the door with little else to watch. 

Another knock. "Hello? Awake in there?"

Karlach breathes out an attempt at words that sound suspiciously like 'thank fuck' but come out garbled through her gag. Petras' hand clamps around Elizia's neck, hard, cutting off her airflow so she doesn't call out. Dal lets go of her at least, stepping back with what suspiciously looks like fear in her eyes as she retreats towards the window.

"Elizia Tavaril if you have passed out after day drinking without me around to mock you, I'm going to be sorely disappointed in you. Karlach too for not fetching me." 

The lock is picked. The door swings open. 

She cannot see Astarion's expression as he takes in the scene before him but seconds later she can see the rigidity in his back and the fury in his movements as he rips Petras away from her, slamming him into the curtained window by a hand around his neck. A sweet sort of vengeful mimicry. Dal cries out and goes to attack Astarion only to be threatened with a dagger in his spare hand. Petras has gone limp in Astarion's grip, feet dangling above the floor, eyes wide with shock still. 

"Not drunk," Elizia says at last, trying to lighten the suffocatingly thick tension in the air when no one else does or moves, only it comes out rough and makes her cough hoarsely, there'll be bruises on her neck later then. 

Astarion barks a cold, mirthless laugh. "Are you alright? Both of you?"

"Fine," Elizia promises, forcing the words out, "nothing permanent." 

He spares a glance over his shoulder at her as if to check for himself the truth of her answer only to come up less reassured than she wanted. He whips back round and tightens his grip, Petras' hands start scrabbling at Astarion's forearms. 

"Good to see you again, Petras, it's been a while," Astarion's words are laced with contempt and Elizia lets herself relax back into Karlach who huffs a laugh at her. "I see you've not grown any more brain cells in our time apart."

"What happened, brother?" Dal asks, finding her voice. There's a slight whine in everything she says and it is incredibly annoying. 

Astarion doesn't look at her when he replies. "I got out, that's what happened."

"How?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he snarks. "What were you doing, I think is the more appropriate question right now. This isn't how we secured marks for Cazador when I was around, change in management style is it?"

Petras kicks feebly at Astarion but he's so close to passing out already that Astarion easily avoids it and tuts condescendingly at him. 

"Now, now, brother, that's no way to behave in front of company."

"Please, Astarion, let him go. We'll go, we'll leave."

"And trot right back to him to tell him I'm back? I don't know, Dal, doesn't seem like a great option for me."

"He'll know either way now, please, Astarion. Please."

Elizia watches him consider. Pays attention to the subtle shift of his weight and the tilt of his head. She isn't surprised when the curtain is ripped down and Petras' skin starts to burn in the sunlight, Astarion utterly unaffected, almost preening in show at how much the direct warmth of the light doesn't hurt him as it agonises his brother. Dal reaches out to grab at him but stops before she can touch the beams of late afternoon sun. 

"How about this," Astarion says, enjoying himself, "I let you go and you run back to Cazador and you tell him I'm coming for him. That he isn't long for this world, his time is up. And then, when I come for him, you stay out of my way and I might consider letting you live through the aftermath. What do you think, darling, is that fair?"

The last part is directed at Elizia and she smirks, oddly proud of Astarion's restraint from outright bloodlust and enjoying the terror in Dal's beseeching gaze and Petras' choked off screams as his skin flakes away. 

"Pretty fair to me," she agrees. 

"Perfect." He drops Petras.

Dal rushes forward to drag him out of the light and to his feet. They leave with multiple backwards glances at them all. Astarion just waves with a sickly sweet smile. 

Karlach kicks the door closed when they're gone and it snaps Astarion back into action. He ungags Karlach first, nodding absently as she starts thanking him and apologising for getting them into this mess, before freeing them from the chains. 

"Yes, yes, alright, Karlach, you're very welcome," he interrupts eventually as he undoes the bindings at Elizia's wrists, carefully inspecting them for injury; she lets him take his time. 

Karlach, having sorted herself out, hovers by the door, watching Astarion kneel in front of Elizia. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it. If you're not back at camp in half an hour though then I'm going to be leading another search party."

"Thank you, Karlach," Elizia says, keeping an eye on how distant Astarion goes in his own thoughts and memories, "we'll be fine."

Karlach hesitates a beat longer before going. 

Now without Karlach's back to lean on and with only Astarion to see, she lets herself drop backwards to lie looking up at the ceiling, causing Astarion to let go of her hands. It also, usefully, snaps him back to the present. Less usefully, he decides that in the present he's still going to be his unique brand of aggressively nice by crawling over the top of her to poke at her sore neck with cold fingers. 

"Hmm."

"Mm."

His eyes flick up in disapproval but not the distaste they would have held had he been truly offended by her mimicry. It was still far too fun to copy him, she didn't want to have to give it up yet. It kept him on his toes with her. 

His fingers leave her neck to for some reason pull her eyelids down to examine her eyes. 

"What are you doing?" She mumbles, letting him only because it means she has his rapt attention. 

"Your eyes are bloodshot, my dear, I'm checking there's no little tentacles popping up. Did they take the artifact?"

"Not tentacles. Just drugs. Good ones apparently."

Another hum and finally the inspection stops. She expects him to back off now, take his space back but instead he drops more his weight on her entirely, forehead pressed to hers, noses brushing, his fingers holding her cheeks and thumbs tracing her jawline and tilting her chin up slightly. It takes her a moment to realise that he's apparently staying and respond in kind to the odd embrace he's initiated. She wraps an arm loosely around his waist, hesitant in her touch until he opens his eyes again only to roll them at her and shift to hide in her neck, on the side he frequently bites of course. Permission granted, her grip tightens to become what she aims to be comfortably secure and she starts to run her fingers through his curls. 

"Your siblings, I take it?" She asks, knowing that if she doesn't start this conversation now he'll brood on it the rest of the day and all night until he's angry enough to rant to her about it. 

"Unfortunately."

"They seemed...nicer than I expected."

Astarion's disagreement is palpable before he even answers. "How you can honestly say such a thing when they literally just kidnapped you and threatened you to get to me is baffling. You're even more insane than I thought."

"Is this the limit then?" She sighs as dramatically as she can whilst being squished by the bodyweight of a well fed vampire spawn. "Alas, of all the things I thought would be your breaking point, some family drama didn't make the list."

He nips her earlobe, then stretches to nip at the tip of her pointed ear. She knocks her head into his to discourage him from continuing. He does, instantly retreating back to her shoulder with a soft kiss she almost misses it's so light, barely there. 

"I feel I must apologise on my siblings' behalf, gods know they never will themselves, but also- ugh. Also for myself. I should have better warned you so this sort of thing didn't happen."

"You have nothing to apologise for, my love." It isn't often that she calls him anything but his name, endearments are more on his side of the conversational table and she's always struggled to say things she doesn't mean, but now, with him, it's different. Every single thing has been different with him. "Trust me, worse has happened than some man trying to strangle me."

"That does not mean you shouldn't be..." He trails off and, unable to see him properly, she has to guess as to why. 

"It's done, Astarion. You came looking, you found us, you got us free. I cannot ask for more."

There must be something in her tone of voice or some undercurrent to her choice of words that she didn't intend because he's suddenly levering himself up on his elbows and claims her in a searing kiss. Her gasp is quickly swallowed up by his pressing mouth and she's barely begun to tease his bottom lip with a brush of her tongue when he's pulling back. She keeps her disappointment to herself, makes sure all he sees is peace and acceptance. Had she hoped the conversation was over and perhaps she could keep him here, kissing and holding her, for a while longer? Yes. Is she ever going to willingly make him doubt whether what he offers her is enough? No. 

"You didn't think I would come," he accuses, not...upset, but curious perhaps. 

She shakes her head. "I knew you'd come. I just thought it would be a while longer. Staying out of camp past dark is hardly new for any of us, you wouldn't have had reason to worry properly until then."

"You think I would not notice you were missing until it was the middle of the night? You didn't even tell me you were going to be away, Halsin did, hours after you were meant to be back!"

"You were busy, I wasn't going to disturb you."

Astarion sits up, knees either side of her hips, weight gone, arms crossed. She stays lying down, still feeling drowsy.

"Next time, Tavaril, 'disturb me'. I didn't think you were such an idiot not to think that I would welcome your interruptions by this point. What were you doing anyway?"

She frowns up at him quizzically. "Were you worried?"

He scoffs but breaks eye contact. "Hardly. I was hungry, that is all."

She nods, closing her eyes against a rush of vertigo. She throws an arm in the general direction that his siblings had thrown her bag.

"Blood in there, help yourself. I will pass out on you if you try and drink from me right now and then you'd have to carry me back to the room."

She doesn't watch him but listens as attentively as she can as he gets up and rummages through the rags and pulls out the first bottle. There's a whole lot of silence, then the unstoppering of the cork. A sniff. She can see him swilling it around like he does his wine perfectly in her mind's eye. A sip and then the restoppering and he's back sitting on her stomach this time. Her chest lets out a rough exhalation then promptly an embarrassing whine as lips kiss up her neck, over the teeth marks, round the bruising that must be starting to blossom, then up her jaw to tease before vanishing once more. 

"You went to get blood for me."

She nods, tucking her hands under her head to get more comfortable. Maybe Astarion really will be carrying her back to base camp, she's fighting sleep as it is now and his voice deepening, taking on that pleasant cadence it gets when he's being sincere. 

"Next time, tell me where you're going. I...You are the only person I have ever been...you worry me, despite my attempts not to."

"Romantic," she yawns.

"Oh shut up," he says, exasperated not commanding. "I want your promise that you will tell me when you're going to be off doing something stupid."

"So you can come save me? My knight in shining armour."

"Elizia."

She cracks a bleary eye open. He is very serious and any other time she'd do him the due respect of being equally invested in the conversation. But it's been a very long day and she had the life nearly choked out of her not long ago. 

"I promise, Astarion. I'll let you know."

He considers her, his gaze piercing even when her eyes flutter shut once again. "Good. Are you genuinely falling asleep right now?"

She means to shrug or nod or something but he's sort of warm and is a very comforting weight and really, sleep is hard to come by these days. The last thing she hears before she lets rest swallow her up is a hushed 'sweet dreams, darling'.