#the irony of the person asking this question HAVING food as their name

[chaoticace2005]

Cherri, high on life (and numerous drugs): Hey Angie, what if people had food names and food had people names?

Angel, to Cherri: Hey Spaghetti, time for dinner.

Cherri (Spaghetti): What are we having?

Angel: Sir Pentious.

Husk: Why am I even still here with you guys?

Cherri: Shut up Potato.

[semischarmed]

River

River was a walking enigma. 

Instagram, TikTok, Facebook- hell, I even tried looking for a yearbook. Nothing. I had nothing on the guy. Like an illusion, he merely appeared, did his work diligently and then promptly vanished. In fact, his most common phrase around the office was a “Sorry, I can’t- busy.” His distance seemed to put some people off. That only made me want him more.

When Chelsea threw a quitting party, he dropped in, chatted for a few minutes and then left without saying goodbye- except to Chelsea. He wasn’t rude by any means. I’ve only ever seen the guy be polite. I personally found it quite hot. His mysteriousness brought an allure about him.

During another quitting party- a dinner for Mark this time, I tried to make conversation, asking him why he was named River. I actually asked the question in a few roundabout ways. Most I ever got was a “just what my parents named me- they thought I’d have brown hair”. I tried to pry for his hobbies, asked what he did for fun and he only responded with a “I watch baseball, go to the gym, watch TV. I guess”, before asking me about mine. The conversation was cordial, and probably a little boring, but I was captivated. This had been the closest I ever sat next to him. 

My breathing quickened, ever so slightly, as I watched his shirt struggle to contain the form within. I traced the vascularity in his hands, the craftsmanship in the sculpt of his neck, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut when he would reach to grab a napkin. There was a full plate of food in front of me but I was only salivating at one thing.

The conditions were not ideal- but what choice did I have? The guy was like a ghost. I laughed a bit at the irony. I sat right across, trying to filter the scents and the sounds of food and camaraderie to focus on him. This would take all my brain power. I steadied my breathing and sharpened my focus, as I continued to answer and ask mundane questions about some work projects we both had. I started my work, mimicking every microexpression, every slight movement. I tailored every word from my mouth- even my delivery to slowly match his. This had to be subtle, of course- I’ve found out the hard way in the past how creepy this process could look in public if done too quickly. 

River’s eyes blinked slower, like a haze was forming in his mind. I followed suit, weaving my slight impersonation in and out of our conversation. Like a pulse, I felt our movements begin to sync. Almost there. Now came the tough part, slowly drawing him out and isolating him without lo-

“C’mon, let’s all get shots- uh… River you ok bro?” Mark asked.

He shook off his daze, surprised at himself before laughing off the weirdness. 

I was pissed the rest of the night, forcing myself to hide the permanent glare I would have worn for Mark. 

As the night drew on, River left early- of course, and I continued on, staying a bit longer to wish Mark well in one final toast for the night. 

That would be the last time in a while I’d be so close to him. The following drought was unbearable. For the next few months, no one quit. No big holidays were coming up, and our office wasn’t much for parties. Instead, I had to satiate myself with glances and the occasional short conversation.

= = = = 

“Does that work for you two?” My boss asked. I nodded readily, eyeing River’s response. Another nod.

Fuck. I practically jumped when the boss said those words. A presentation. A presentation with River. A chance.

I think I deserved an Oscar for my acting in the few weeks after we were both tasked with the presentation. A wrong font here, corrupted save there, a missed chart. I “worked” tirelessly on the presentation with River, making sure to leave enough mistakes and gaps to drag the process out. 

The guy was too polite, and I knew I had to use that against him. I ran the clock, watching the days progress into weeks and his brow furrow as stress deepened. Of course, I had to play my part, acting innocent at every step. A quick “sorry” for every mistake I planted was enough to ease suspicion. I even faked a confession about roommate drama causing my decline in performance. I thanked how private he was in that moment- I lived alone. Ever the hero, River was quick to take on the responsibility- even covering for me on few occasions. I knew I had to get inside this man.

Then came the day before the big presentation.

“I- uh… okay. Maybe we can finish this at my apartment,” He stated, clearly uncomfortable. I held back a moan.

= = = =

“You can set your stuff down there”.

It was a bit boring compared to what I expected. He was definitely put together at work, so it was a bit surprising to see some mess littering his apartment. 

A few posters dotted the walls. Some basketball guy, I guess. An action movie. A generic college banner. His furniture boxy and grey, and the carpets running through the floors were in need of cleaning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his kitchen was pristine, practically sparkling, aside from a small collection of protein powders and supplements. 

“Uh.. sorry I don’t really have any snacks.”

He sheepishly opened the near-empty fridge and offered me a choice in drink. Some kind of pre-workout beverage and water. I took the water. 

“Okay, I need to head to the gym for a bit. You still have a few slides you wanted to add, right?” A Hoodie-wearing, duffel-toting River asked. I nodded, trying not to look too eager and straining to keep my eyes from staring at his well-defined legs. 

And then, there I was. Alone in River’s apartment. Alone with River’s apartment. I ran to his dirty laundry pile. 

“Mmmphhhh” My eyes rolled back as I took the deepest inhale of my life. These were River’s boxer briefs. The same ones he had just worn. Doused in the scent of a day’s work. It was damp- guess River was a sweaty guy, though the long walk and couple flights of stairs to get to his apartment may have also been culprit. I was paralyzed in bliss, as I took in every note of his natural musk. 

It reverberated deep in my chest as I continued to circulate every ounce of River I could inside me. The underwear was practically glued to my nose and mouth before I finally relented and drew them away, gasping for air. Exquisite. 

My dick jumped at the sight of a single strand of his pubic hair, like flickering flame. A perverse smile planted itself on my face as I gingerly pulled my clothes off. I shivered as the cold, damp fabric that had just touched his bare flesh was now touching mine. I felt his hair on my flesh, now caked in his sweat. The elastic snapped around my waist as I released, a bit tight. My breaths fell shallow, ragged as I sat there basking in his cold embrace.

Next came the tank top. I mentally hit myself for not putting it on first, as it was a significantly less erotic experience. Still, as I slipped my arms through the holes that his once filled, my dick couldn’t help but twitch in approval. 

I ran to his bed, gripped his sheets, and stifled another moan with his pillow. This man had, until today, been a full on mystery to me. And now, here I was- deep in the recesses of his apartment, nestled in the indent on his bed, buried in fabric stained with traces his scent and natural grime. I was drowning in the all aspects of his daily life. It was an intimacy with River previously unheard of and practically a miracle I hadn’t cummed yet. 

The next few moments were sluggish, mind hazy and drunk in pleasure, as I wore my jacket and pants over the River clothes I had already had on me. I mentally thanked myself for wearing tighter clothing earlier today, as I felt them compress River’s undergarments tighter on my flesh. I walked back, sitting on the dining table and pretending to work.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open and a panting River waved. He no longer had a hoodie on and left nothing to imagination. I eyed the feast before me.

I fucking knew it. This kid was ripped. 

I salivated as my eyes followed every contour of the body that would soon be mine. His flesh was flush and glistening with sweat.

“M-must have been some workout,” I mumbled. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

“Yeah, fucking kicked my ass today,” River said with a short laugh. My dick twitched. River never swore, never gave off a jockish vibe at work, but here he was, beaten tired and unable to contain his natural state behind a facade of politeness. 

My lip quivered when his post-workout scent wafted into my nose. It was divine. True to his name, River had an earthy, deep musk about him. A delayed, almost sour afternote followed, the kind that clings to the nose. It riled me up, knowing this offensive, raw blast of testosterone had been working next to me for the past two years, hidden by layers of work clothes and pleasantries. River was cleaned, masked and sanitized for corporate America. And now I had a private showing to it. I was feral. I wanted-no, needed to be piloting this hunk for myself.

My trance was broken when River dropped to his couch, laughing slightly. This wasn’t his normal laugh- it dropped all pretense and I recoiled out of reflex, thinking back to that same laugh that emanated from the football jocks back in high school. 

A lazy pair of eyes drifted up to meet me. “Sorry bro, just new a few minutes.”

I gulped. This was my chance. No need for precision, no need for focus. River was vulnerable. In any other circumstance, I’d be syncing to his movements, slowly, imperceptibly altering his as he would start following mine. Then I could pull him into my trance, lead him to a safe area as I continued the process. This was different. River served himself up on a platter for me, beaten to near immobility by his workout. No way was I gonna miss this. I stripped quickly, abandoning my original plan.

Without a word, I walked closer to him, grabbing his wrists. 

“W-what are you”. In that instant, i jumped on top of him, allowing my body to follow the contours of his.

He grunted in defiance while I began to grind in pleasure. “Ughhh! Fuck bro. I can’t! I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be River!” 

The process was quick- his drenched, energy drained flesh practically grabbed at mine, drawn by my own energy into itself. It was osmosis. I moaned as I saw the process start, and River’ meaty form encapsulate my own. His arms and legs splayed as he screamed at the intrusion. “What the fuck are you-“ He grunted in pain as he felt our two forms begin to meld. I laughed a perverted laugh, eyeing how deep I was inside him. His lack of energy had been his downfall.

I licked the inside of his head, feeling him shiver and whimper at the intrusion. I whispered venomously. “What am I doing?” I thrusted myself deeper into his muscled form, “I’m becoming River. I’m gonna wear you like a fine red suit.” I felt my facial muscles match his and pulled him into a smile he did not intend to make. “You boring prude. This body was built for sex. You’re starving this poor thing. I bet it’s backed up.” I whined in half-whispers. “Let me take you for a ride.” River moaned in horror, kicking his legs into the sofa in discomfort as his muscled back began to close over me. Possessing the ginger felt like a warm, dank hug. “You feel that?” I teased, this time his voice mimicking mine. He could no longer respond as it had become my mouthpiece. Instead, his head repeatedly slammed the sofa in resistance, forced to wear a smile that was not his own. 

I laughed, feeling our combined chest heave in deep pleasure as I jammed my fingers deep into each bicep. I drilled into each arm, relishing in feeling his muscle fibers slip past me. Power. He shook as he tried in vain to resist my fingers filling into his. Putting on those vascular hands like well-fitted gloves. “Fuck yeah bro… that’s the stuff. Dominate me. Command me. Control my every move. My nerves are itching for their owner. Put this ginger meatsuit on…” I mock in his voice. Tears welled in my eyes, as I felt him continue to slam our slowly merging head into the sofa. I purse our lips before moaning further. “Wear my clothes…” My legs wove into his, twisting and binding into one. “Wear my personality…” the bottom half of our merged face laughs, while my new eyes blink away angered tears. I felt his memories begin to flow and surround mine. His rage and desperation flowed through me. The slamming slowed, coming to a complete halt as a reborn River’s eyes blinked into a lewd, sinful glee. “Wear my life.”

I stood up, piloting my new body towards the mirror. “You’re still in there, aren’t you?” River’s outward defiance no longer showed over his perfect flesh but his mind was a raging storm. “Good.” His body lit in searing pain, sore muscle tendon and fiber forced to flex. I felt the storm calm as he was stunned. I myself winced slightly before my arousal imprinted itself through River’s face. This was my pain now. I could feel every fiber of his musculature tearing and repairing themselves. Building back stronger with the pre-workout mix he had drunken earlier. Building back with me embedded deep inside. Our leg wobbled in pain, before I slapped it back into submission, forcing it to flex. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff.”

I roared and patted my new chest and abs. “YEEAAAH!” Just one last piece of me was left. An intentional dessert I had left not internally bonded with River. 

I let his normally stoic face relay the erotic pleasure I felt in wearing this flesh. I then pulled a “serious” face, bringing pained biceps into a flex. “We gotta live up to our name bro… gotta let the river flow”. A greedy tongue licked the dripping sweat hanging off ginger hairs of his armpit. I wanted to savor this. The tangy, salty nectar lingered in our shared tongue before I began to make out with my new reflection. With a grunt, I slammed River’s pelvis into the mirror, groaning as my growing hard-on began to fill into his dick. At first contact, I felt our senses mingle and the cold metal of the mirror. I grunted, trying to reign in the lust. With our linked sensitivity, I could feel my original body’s dick worming itself into my soon to be River-flavored cock. I thrusted my rod up, relishing in the soothing bare metal beneath the perverse cock and cock sleeve combination.

I grabbed at my new rod with one hand, while the other greedily dragged across my new body, feeling every new muscle and crevice and damp piece of the hunk. River thrashed inside me, disgusted at feeling his own flesh violate itself. At watching this new carnal entity that wore his face and name.

“S-someone’s gonna find out. Someone will fix this” He threatened in my mind. 

“No bro… you’re the perfect host. No one at work knows a thing about you”. I cooed in his voice. “When we quit, when I take this thick ginger cock for a joy ride-“ tug “No one…” tug “No one will know.” I groaned as the last of his dick bonded to mine. We were complete. “I’m River now!” I shouted before devolving into whimpers of pleasure as I felt River’s warm seed stream out of me. 

River’s softening, sore wood was forced back into full mast as I eyed the full extent of my- now his- depravity. Not wanting to waste a drop, I smeared my new lotion onto my new flesh, caking in layers of his drying sweat with layers of drying semen. I could only hear gagging in my mind as River was forced to taste his own produce. It’s my body now anyways, why shouldn’t it reek of sex and his natural musk?

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The Fated Truth

Azriel x Reader

Truth-Teller’s origin story. A multi-pov oneshot.

A/N: this story came to me after listening to the songs seven, vigilante shit, it’s nice to have a friend, and my tears ricochet by taylor swift.

warnings: attempted sa, language, suggestive language, parental abuse, violence, main character death

The Angel

-Ladies always rise above -

Remove the dagger from his heart.

-Ladies know what people want-

Wipe the blood from the corner of your kohl lined eyes.

-Someone sweet-

Spit on the bastard.

-Someone kind-

Swipe at the next overgrown male.

-Someone fun-

Hit your mark, swing around, drive your dagger into the brute on your six.

“Well, shit.” you think to yourself as a group of ten overgrown bats rush toward you. Siphons glowing.

The irony isn’t lost on you that yet another thing they withheld from you would contribute in damning their very existence. A female with siphons was considered absurd and absolutely out of the question, it wasn’t your place - yet this incontrolable blast of raw killing power begged to differ.

One moment those pricks were running toward you and the next, they were ashes in the wind.

Looking at the dead females around you, pure rage boils within. Your insides could be cooked at this point for all you know. Not a single feeling but uncontrollable rage.

A gasp breaks the silence. One of the females is still alive. Running to her, her eyes filled with panic, breaths rapid and shallow. You lean down and whisper to her before unsheathing your dagger and holding it up. Her eyes widen in terror but not at you - behind you. You turn to look.

“Azri-“

The blast of power hit before you could finish saying it - your mate’s name - your final breath.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Journal

Nine year old Y/N

“I made a new friend! His name is Azriel. He’s like me! He’s two years older than me and can’t fly but he still has his wings. I wish I still had mine, we could learn to fly together. Azriel has burn scars too but his are on his hands instead of his back like mine.

He’s really quiet but it’s okay, I talk and he listens! He has shadow powers though. I don’t think I’m supposed to say this but they’re really cute! One of them followed me home from my chores today.

I have to go now. Dad is yelling. I think he’s mad again.”

11 year old Y/N

“Father hit me again last night. I got upset and my power hiccuped. I asked him for a siphon and he locked me in the cellar for asking. I have bruises that hurt really badly but I’m okay.

Azriel saw me this morning. I tried to hide the bruises but he notices everything. I cried and he listened to me. Sometimes I think he’s the only person who sees me.”

13 year old Y/N

“One of father’s friends came over two nights ago - they were drinking. I had to refill their mugs of ale and the friend grabbed me inappropriately. Father laughed. When he left the room his friend pulled me into his lap and his hand drifted below my waist. I was scared and my power flickered, throwing me backward and flipping the chair over with him in it.

The blast broke his arm and nose. I don’t feel bad.

I tried telling father what happened but he didn’t listen. He locked me in the cellar from that night until this morning.

One of Azriel’s shadows found me and picked the lock. Father either forgot he locked me away or didn’t care because he never came to check on me or give me food. I found a canteen of water on one of the shelves though.

Azriel retrieved me as soon as his shadow notified him. He took me back to Rhysand’s Mother’s cabin and she fed me. Azriel stayed by my side as I took a bath - there were even bubbles. I’ve never had a bath with bubbles before. Azriel saw my scars peaking over my towel after I climbed out of the bath and instinctively clenched his hands. I took them in my hands and kissed them. Our scars prove our strength. He tells me mine are beautiful but his are too. All of him is.

He’s my best friend.”

15 Year Old Y/N

“I spent the day with Azriel yesterday. Sometimes we sneak away and train. He teaches me self-defense maneuvers and even some Illyrian fighting techniques. My powers have been growing a lot lately too. I am still not allowed siphons though. It’s getting harder to contain but training with Azriel serves as an outlet.

I got into a fight with father again two nights ago. He threw a knife at me. I avoided it but if it hit me, it would have landed in my chest. He called me an “ungrateful whore just like my mother.” I was told that mother died in childbirth but sometimes I wonder if it’s not true.

When he locked me in the cellar this time, I let out a blast of power. It ripped a shelf off the wall and down with it came a dusty box I’d never seen before. I opened it to find a beautiful obsidian-hilted knife and a note that said:

For my beautiful babe. May the light of truth always find you, even in the darkest places. I will always love you. -Mother.

I can’t believe it was there all of this time. It broke my heart to know that she had been locked away in the cellar too. The only thing she was able to give me. She loved me. Those words meant so much. Someday I will be reunited with her in the realm beyond and she’ll share her truth with me.

Oh I almost forgot!! Azriel snuck into my room this evening and I showed him the knife. He held me while I cried tears of joy and sadness over this gift from my mother.

He’s going to train me in wielding it.”

16 Year old Y/N

Father was away on a training exercise last night so I went to a party at Rhysand’s cabin. It was fun but Morrigan was there. She’s so beautiful and I think Azriel likes her. He looks at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky.

He’s my best friend and I have loved him for a long time but sometimes, I feel an ache in my chest. Maybe I love him as more than a friend? I left the party early and trained with my hunting knife alone at our usual spot. He didn’t come looking for me.

This morning he stopped by and we practiced together. He seemed sad for a bit but I didn’t press. He tends to prefer more physical methods of expressing his feelings. He was still sullen afterward so I brought him back to my house for tea. We laid in bed together for hours. I know it’s frowned upon but it’s never gone past holding each other. He needs touch as much as I need his listening ear.

I think I’m going to ask him to spend the night.

17 year old Y/N

Yesterday was my 17th birthday. Father didn’t pay any mind to it as always. He says it’s “a reminder of what I did to my mother.” He drank himself into oblivion which left me free to leave the house. He probably never realized I left.

Sometimes I want to tell him that I know his secret - that there was more to her death than my birth but I know better. The following blow up would be catastrophic. At this point, my power has been growing so much that I think… I think I’m more of a danger to him than he is to me.

But… something big happened. Azriel took me flying. We looked at the stars and he flew me far north to see the Aurora. It was almost as beautiful as him. I may or may not have cried tears of joy.

Az playfully kissed my tears away but then something happened - what started as friendly kisses sparked a flame within me and I… I noticed a shift in his scent too. We locked eyes and he kissed my lips. Hard, fervently, like maybe he sees me as something more. We landed in a clearing under the Aurora and kissed for hours.

I love him. I love him wholeheartedly.

18 year old Y/N

Something happened last night! Az and I have spent a lot of nights together recently. Any time father is away, he comes over and we lay in bed kissing and talking for hours until his shadows inevitably lull me to sleep. But last night, I kissed his jaw and down his neck - he grabbed my wrist and growled!! Not a scary growl but a… possessive growl. He told me that if we started this, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

So…. I kept kissing him. Lower. And Lower. And, well… the rumors about wingspan are true.

We had each other over and over all night, until Cassian and Rhys came knocking on my door looking for him.

18 Year old Y/N part two:

Father has hardly been around. He’s been visiting other camps. I’m thankful for the break from him and especially thankful for the time I’ve spent with Azriel. We’ve spent countless hours entangled with each other over the past few months. My power has been stirring a lot, it’s still growing. Training hasn’t been enough so this physical outlet between Azriel and I has been a lifeline. I can’t get enough of him. He told me he loved me - and I knew this time it was different. He truly loves me and not just as his friend. He knows that I love him too.

But things have also been trying… Morrigan has visited a few times recently and he’s still so enamored by her. Honestly, I get it. But it still hurts. Sometimes I want to say something about it but I don’t want to cause problems. There’s a rumor that she slept with Cassian a couple of years ago and things have been different between Azriel and Morrigan ever since. He broods more than ever when she’s around.

Maybe I need to fuck him senseless, until all he can think about is me.

Just kidding, but seriously.

19 Year Old Y/N

“I have a secret.

A really big, life altering secret.

Azriel is my mate. I don’t know if he knows but last night - things were really passionate, when we came together, that golden thread people talk about, it just… SNAPPED for me.

Things have been really bad with father lately and there have been more wing clippings happening. My heart hurts for the girls. I used to feel sad because I never had a chance to touch the skies (until Azriel learned to fly and carried me into them) - but to have been able to fly for so many years and lose the ability. I couldn’t imagine. Those males deserve to suffer.

Father made a comment recently saying that he gave me a ‘gift’ by cutting off and burning my wings as a child. It made me furious - my power slipped. It destroyed most of our living room furniture and half our kitchen table. I could scent the fear in him when it happened. I think if he wasn’t such a coward - he would have killed me. I have hardly seen him since.”

20 Year old Y/N

“Azriel is taking me to a formal party at another camp! I can’t wait. Rhysand’s mother even made me a dress for it. It’s the most beautiful clothing I’ve ever owned. She also added a hidden sheath for my knife.

I just finished getting ready - I feel like a shooting star. I’ve never felt so… so powerful and gorgeous. My eyes are lined with kohl and my hair is braided with silvery strands woven in.

Tonight is the night I’m telling Azriel. I’m nervous, so, so nervous, but he deserves to know that we’re mates.

Morrigan will be at the party too. I really hope I’m not making a mistake by telling him tonight. I know he still cares for her so I will wait until after the party and it’s just the two of us in the sky before telling him. Maybe he’ll take me to look at the Aurora again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The Survivor

The infamous Shadowsinger made his way to her - approaching slowly, trembling, two palms up in the air as if to placate her.

He knelt down to the female who cried out in a blood curdling scream of pain and fear.

“P-pl-please don’t!! Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m here. You are safe.” The Shadowsinger choked out.

She didn’t understand. Why would he kill that female? She was only trying to help.

“Y-yo-you ki-killed h-her.” She cried out right before everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Shadowsinger

Devastation. Pure devastation threatened to rip Azriel to shreds. What the hell happened in a matter of hours?

He’d barely seen Y/N at the dance. She’d arrived to the party with all eyes on her. She held her head high, wearing her scars proudly. He couldn’t help but admire how she let them shine tonight. He’d walked in with his hand on her back his scarred skin to her scarred skin. It wasn’t a flaw at all, but a lovely match. They were beautiful together.

Tonight was the night he would ask her to move in with him. He was now making a small salary - enough to buy a little cabin for the two of them. It was time for her to get the hell away from her horrid father. He planned to take her to view the aurora that she loved so much - and present her with a special gift - her very own siphons. She was the strongest Illyrian female he knew - really she was stronger than any Illyrian he knew aside from maybe him, Rhys, and Cassian. She’d struggled with her power and the misogynistic Illyrian bastards in Windhaven refused to allow her or any female such a privilege.

He’d worked out a plan with Rhys, who convinced the smith that crafted the siphons that he was going to try his hand at wearing siphons one more time - claiming he had a new method of siphoning his power through them that would prevent shattering. While they both knew it was bullshit and the siphons would never work for Rhys - they would then gift them to Y/N without raising suspicion.

Mor was at the dance tonight. He had gone over to visit with her and shared his plans for tonight with her. She squealed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug, requesting a celebratory dance. They’d gone out on the dance floor for a couple of songs and when he pulled away to steal a dance with Y/N she was gone.

He’d searched the party through when a couple of males burst through the door - yelling of a female going crazy and murdering local villagers.

Az immediately vacated the party to take down the assailant - sending another partygoer to alert Rhys and Cassian who were currently bedding a set of twins in one of the suites.

He was taken back when he landed at the site of the attack. The carnage was brutal with blood coating the snowy ground, littered in dead males and females. His heart nearly stopped when he realized, at the center of it all, there she was. Y/N holding her hunting knife over a severely injured female.

Stunned by the sight, Azriel prepared to send a wave of power out and knock the knife from her hand. Right as the power readied itself for Azriel to fire, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes met his and snap. His body jolted - a golden thread between him and the blood splattered beauty before him - the surge caused his arm to jerk and a much more powerful blast emitted from his siphons. He missed his target. For the first time in his life, he missed it. Instead of the knife, the deadly blast of power hit her.

His mate. His best friend. His equal. His eternity - ripped away in a second.

Everything after that was a blur. His only memories of those moments played on a constant reel in his head flashing images of the injured girl screaming “you killed her!!!!”, collapsing on top of Y/N’s lifeless body, screaming to the mother or any other deity that may listen - begging for her chest to rise and fall again, and then four strong hands pulling him off of her before everything went black and his brothers voice calmed his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Days later Azriel woke up from whatever sedation Rhys had put him in. When he woke, Cassian was by his side. It was all of a minute before the memory came flooding back.

Azriel thrashed only to find he’d been restrained.

“Brother..” Cassian said firmly.

“Brother!” he yelled

Azriel’s wrists and ankles were on fire as he thrashed. He had to get to her, had to.

Finally Azriel cried out “Y/N!!! Y/N!!!!”

“My mate! Where is she!? WHERE IS SHE!?” he screamed and cried, thrashing against the restraints with all of his might.

Everything went dark again.

“Az…..” Rhys spoke softly into his mind

Azriel didn’t have the strength to scream or yell in this space of sedation. He could only whisper “where is she?”

Silence filled the void of his mind before Rhys spoke. “She’s gone, Az.”

Devastation flooded through him, filling him completely, making that one sided bond reverberate every ounce of emotion back to him.

Rhys waited patiently, sending soothing waves of darkness into his mind. Knowing Azriel well enough to wait until he was ready to send a thought back.

“Why, Rhys? Why did she do it?”

Again, that damned silence as Rhys paused.

“If I show you now, I’ll have to keep you under for longer, Az. You’re a danger to yourself right now and this… it’s heavy, brother.”

“Do it” he gritted.

Azriel’s mind became entranced in a vision. Before him a massacre. He was seeing through the eyes of a frightened female, eyes bleary from sobbing.

A large group of males had corralled several females into a circle, some as young as five or six. The males all carried sharp objects ranging from sickles and scythes to swords and axes.

A male stepped forward - Y/N’s father - who spoke:

“Females of Illyria have not served us well in many years. They forget that their purpose is to care for us, maintain our homes, and cater to our physical needs. Instead, they insult us by wasting time and energy on training - as if our protection is not enough? Young females smuggle herbs into our camps that delay their bleed so they can fly where they please, whoring around with whomever they please. These behaviors reflect negatively on all of Illyria, leaving us to appear weak to enemies.”

And then the bloodshed began. The males ran at the females, corralling them in closer and closer. Butchering wings and brutalizing any female who dared fight back. The screaming, gods awful screaming, pierced the air.

Male screams suddenly burst out - a blast of power knocking ten of them on their asses.

And there she was, in her resplendent glory.

“Hello boys.” She smirked.

Y/N’s father stepped forward. “My traitorous daughter, and dressed like a slut too. Shall we show them what happens to women who don’t obey.”

“Oh yes, ladies, my father took my wings when I was four. He burnt the stumps too. See these scars?” She turned around briefly with a wave to her back. “Someone I love helped me realize how beautiful they are, a stark reminder of what I can overcome.”

She paused, looking to the females as she addressed her father:

“So yes, father, perhaps this is the fate of disobedient females - but allow me the honor of showing YOU the fate of males who think they can steal a females power.”

-They say looks can kill and I might try-

Her piercing eyes again met her father as she threw a hand out, sending another blast of power - a death blow - turning him to ash in the wind.

Before any of the males could react, she sent another larger blast, creating an opening near the most vulnerable of the females.

“RUN! Those of you who can fight - you may stay. Those of you who are unable - there is no shame in leaving now! Seek shelter!”

The females nodded toward a teenage girl, signaling her to gather the youngest females and ran off with them. Any males that tried stopping them were turned to ash.

“Ladies, show them who we are!” Y/N cried.

-The ladies simply had enough-

They were outnumbered, so terribly outnumbered. Some females had died before Y/N arrived - bleeding out from the butchering of their wings but the few remaining females fought bravely. Because of their lack of training, the males easily overtook many of them but Y/N led them bravely, valiantly, taking them out as best as she could.

As the female numbers lessened Y/N cried out for the females to evacuate, to seek healers. The remainder of the females fled aside from two females (one of which this visions point of view was from) who appeared to have more training than the others.

Y/N looked to them giving a knowing look seemingly saying “give them hell.” They adjusted their stances into that of the most fearsome warriors, and took on the remaining males as more and more fled in.

Y/N’s power was like nothing they’d ever seen. She took down male after male.

Before she could react, two males approached from behind taking out the other female and knocking out the vision of the female whose mind Rhys had gleaned into.

As the female blacked out, the vision faded away. Silence once again filled the air for several minutes before Azriel said:

“But.. she was holding a knife over the female. I don’t understand.”

Rhys answered in a heartbreakingly soft tone

“I can show you, brother. But this will be hard to see. Are you sure?”

Azriel replied firmly, “show me.”

Rhys hesitated before continuing. But then the vision resumed as the female regained consciousness:

Her eyes were so blurry. She was hurting terribly but managed a gasp. Around her, all of the males were dead and the bodies of their fallen sisters painted the snow red. Emotion flooded through her, she couldn’t move. As her vision cleared further, she saw her. The female who fought so bravely for them.

Y/N saw her and ran over. The blood caking her braid causing panic. The trauma of this night was too much - the blood so triggering. Y/N sensed the fear and whispered “I am here. You are safe now. Look at my eyes, not around you, not at the blood on me, just my eyes.” The female tried but couldn’t look away from the blood in her hair. “I’m going to bring my knife out and cut the braid. Do not be afraid.” Y/N once again unsheathed her knife, lifting it, when loud wings flapped in. The injured female couldn’t get words out, her only signal to Y/N, a wide eyed look of panic.

Y/N turned around - breathed out “Azri-“ just as that fatal blow of power hit her.

“STOP!” Azriel cried out in his mind. It was too much.

Azriel’s body began convulsing as a mixture of rage, heartbreak, and panic flew through him. “I KILLED HER. I KILLED HER. MY MATE. MY MATE. MY MATE.”

Rhys had no choice but to send out another wave of sedation to his brother.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next several weeks were spent in and out of sedation. Rhysand had found that Y/N’s father had been planning the attack for months, perhaps even longer. The camp was chosen for the first attack because of the party - a distraction to lessen the chances of interference from outsiders.

He planned to carry out more attacks throughout Illyria in coming months. Had it not been for Y/N, more would have happened. Her heroic actions prevented so many more losses than just the ones that were saved that night.

Azriel stayed bedridden for months - only leaving when Cassian and Rhys nagged him enough that it wasn’t worth the energy to refuse them. One day Rhys brought in a box, inside the box, Y/N’s knife and a journal. “She would have wanted you to have this.”

Azriel’s chest broke at the sight. Her mothers knife, the knife they’d spent hundreds of hours training with. He almost refused it but it felt like a piece of her. A reminder of her goodness, of the mate he lost.

That night he laid it under his pillow - an odd comfort as he read through the journal. The journal unveiling that she knew they were mates. His heart cracked further knowing that the reason she’d stepped out that night was likely to get some air after she saw him with Morrigan. “Stupid.” His inner thoughts cried out to him. How could he have been so blind?

He lay awake for half the night as he read through her journal - he sobbed for hours until his shadows finally lulled him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth-Teller

“Azriel” a soft voice whispered.

“Azriel” the lovely voice whispered again.

He was dreaming.

He tried to whisper her name but couldn’t speak.

“I don’t have much time, I need you to listen.”

He again attempted to speak but no sound came. He nodded his head.

A flash of light illuminated his mind and there she was. Somehow even more beautiful than she’d been - if that were possible. Her form illuminated with an incandescent glow, face full of light - a light that only came from insurmountable joy and happiness. And behind her, behind her were stunning golden feathered wings. An angel, his angel, stood before him… with six glowing siphons.

“Azriel, please do not cry for me. I am at peace. This was always my destiny. The lovely truth of my life was that all of the pain led me to you, I found a love, a friendship, that so few experience. Every step led me to where I am now and this afterlife is beautiful. The truth of life is that fate is inevitable.”

She waved a hand and out stepped more winged females. The females who died in the attack.

“What happened was not an accident, it was fate. You could not have changed the outcome. When you sent your power out toward me and the bond snapped, my power shot through the bond into you, reflecting back to me. You only sent out a small blast, the fatal blow came from my refracted power.”

Azriel’s eyes widened at the revelation. His heart still completely shattered but the guilt slightly lessened.

“When you sealed my fate it trapped a piece of my soul in the knife. I am forever bound to Truth-Teller. When you carry truth-teller you carry a piece of my power, of me, with you. Though, I will be with you regardless, as a part of me will always rest…” she held a delicate hand to her heart, “right here.”

His mind raced. Truth-Teller. What she’d named her knife after the truth of her mother was unveiled with it.

“I must go now, Azriel.” She waved an arm again to her fellow angels. “I am the keeper of the Mother’s gate and this is my legion. This was always my destiny - this and to love you. I will keep the bastards out and someday, someday far from now, I will hold the gate open for you.

Until then, may the truth set you free my love.”

A beautiful woman resembling Y/N stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her mother. The angels all nodded to Azriel in confirmation.

“My precious mate, I will love you for eternity.” Y/N whispered as she shot toward the sky - right into the most vibrant aurora he’d ever seen.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth-Teller

500 Years Later

Azriel still thought of her every damn day, Truth-Teller never leaving his side. His North Star, the angel guiding him through life. He never told his brothers - didn’t know how to explain how that broken mating bond glowed inside him whenever his intuition failed. She’d guided him in her own way all of these years.

Leading up to the war with Hybern the tug became stronger and stronger. A warning of the strife to come.

For the first time since the night Rhys brought him her journal and Truth-Teller, she reappeared to him.

“Azriel.” Her melodic voice whispered, a sweet song serenading his soul.

“Azriel, I don’t have much time.” that honeyed voice whispered.

In the same fashion as last time, he couldn’t speak. Managing only to nod.

“I have carefully pulled the strings of fate as much as I am capable. A war is coming with a fate that I am unable to divulge. The Mother has allowed me to share just this:

“The fawn who sees carries the truth. When the time comes, you will know.”

Azriel furrowed his brows with confusion.

Y/N smiled softly, outshining any star in the sky, more captivating than the spirits of Starfall. “The truth will set you free. Do not fear loving again.”

He fought and fought, trying to speak, thrashing against the walls of his mind he was able to mutter three words to her.

“I love you.”

She placed a hand on her heart.

“I know, my love.”

Spreading those magnificent wings, she shot from his mind, the void filling with the echoes of her song.

“Until eternity reunites our souls.”

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 8

Masterlist

Warnings: fainting, affects of chemotherapy treatment, lack of appetite, IV treatment

Note: a lot of this chapter is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. Also sorry this chapter is so short.

Word Count: 1.9k

Relationships: Yelena x reader, Tony x reader (platonic), Avenger x reader (platonic)

There was something about jello that never sat right with you. You witnessed your friends take shot after shot of the mixture, and it made your insides turn. Even your mom would eat it when she wasn’t feeling well. Your nose would scrunch when you saw her over the stove, waiting for the water to boil. It always had to be homemade, never the store-bought stuff. The irony of it all as you sat on the common floor of the tower eating jello. Your mom would have gotten a kick out of it. It was store-bought; you barely had enough energy to drag yourself out of your room. The visit with America and Kate made you realize you missed people, which was strange.

After a double dosage, you would lock yourself in your room, surviving on snacks you could keep down. You would emerge from your room and order takeout when the symptoms passed. It was odd having a group of people to ensure you were okay. “Hey kid,” you gave a weak smile to Steve. “How’s the jello?” You shrugged.

“It’s gross, but at least I’m eating.” Sam stood next to you, arms leaning against the counter.

“We are going to watch a movie,” he said. “Do you want to join us?” You finished the last spoonful of jello, and Steve took the trash from you. You gave the man a grateful smile.

“Sure, it’s not like I can do much in this state,” you followed them to the couch and sat on the other side of Steve. He was warm; you were getting jealous of the Avenger’s ability to always be warm. “What are we watching?” You asked, resting your elbow on the armrest.

“I’m thinking Do The Right Thing by Spike Lee,” you knew the movie. You took a film studies class in college. Well, you passed it without watching any of the movies. You were a little stretched thin, and watching a 2-hour movie was not something you had time for. With your schedule open, movies became a source of comfort for you. You wished you set more time for them, more time for other things as well.

Sighing, you let your body relax on the couch and let your mind wander into the world Spike Lee created.

*

“I’m impressed she still hasn’t woken up yet,” Maria said, nursing a tall glass of water. She, Yelena, and Natasha returned from a run to find the common floor bustling with people, making lunch or grabbing a quick bite before heading off. Somehow, you remained unbothered by all the noise. You were fast asleep on the couch with a blanket tucked around you. Steve told them you made it halfway through the movie before you fell asleep.

“Do you think we should wake her up?” Natasha asked. “She needs to eat.” Yelena nodded. Tony told them about his conversation with your doctor. The blonde hated doctors too many times; she was forced down by doctors who said they would help. She had to trust your medical team knew what was best for you. So if they told you you needed to eat or an IV of fluids and steroids would help, Yelena believed that.

“I’ll do it,” Yelena said, walking over to the couch and ignoring the questioning look on her sister’s face. She was not ready for that conversation that she knew Natasha was dying to have. Yelena needed time to figure it all out. Kneeling at your level, she gently placed her hand on your shoulder. “Easton,” she said softly, barely recognizing the sound of her voice. “Come on, time to wake up.” This time, you opened your eyes, blinking them a few times.

“Belova,” you sighed. Yelena hated how you said her name; it made her heart skip. “Do what do I owe the pleasure.” The blonde rolled her eyes.

“You need food,” she said, standing up. “So up you get.” Yelena held out her hand. Sighing, you sat up and took the hand she offered. Fuck, why were you so cold? You pulled yourself up with Yelena’s help. Even when you were standing up, the blonde refused to let you go of your hand. Your hand was trembling, and you were swaying.

“What-” but you cut yourself off. You let out a shaky breath, and your eyebrows pinched together as if you were confused by something someone said, but no one spoke.

“Easton, what’s wrong?” You opened your mouth a few times before your eyes fluttered closed, and you fell forward. Yelena caught you in your arms, gently brought you to the ground, and looked at her sister. Natasha was already rushing over to her. “I don’t know what happened,” Yelena said, her voice laced with panic. “She just collapsed.”

“It’s okay,” Natasha calmly said, and she checked your pulse. “FRIDAY, alert Helen and tell Tony to get to med bay,” the redhead looked at her sister. “Can you help me get here?” The blonde nodded. Yeah, she could do that. She just needed her hands to stop shaking.

*

When you opened your eyes, you were in a room you didn’t recognize. Frowning, you turned your head to the side and saw Tony. The sound of you shuffling caused him to look away from the tablet he was looking over. “Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked. You sat up in the unfamiliar bed and saw an IV in your arm. You were connected to a clear bag that they gave you at the cancer center.

“Where am I?” You asked instead of answering your question.

“You’re in med bay,” he told you. “You fainted when you stood up.” Oh, you rubbed your forehead. “Dr. Carpenter said it’s probably due to your dehydration and lack of food intake. He suggested the TV; it’s fluids and a small amount of steroids,” he explained. You frowned slightly, hating the idea that Dr. Carpenter knew you weren’t doing well. You hated worrying him. He already felt so much guilt regarding your mom’s death, and he felt like he failed you and her. “So, how are you?” You hated that question. Every doctor and nurse asked you about it. You avoided text messages from your friends who asked you.

“I’m fine, Tony,” you said.

“No, you’re not,” he called you out. “And it’s fine that you aren’t,” he added quickly. “But I need you to tell me so I can help.” Help is something you never needed. You excelled in school, and even at a young age, you could take care of yourself. You helped others with school work, personal problems, or if they needed help moving. You were the helper, never the one that needed help. It was why it took forever for Dr. Carpenter to convince you to reach out to Tony.

“I don’t need your help.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. The man laughed bitterly.

“Then why come to the tower, turn my life upside down, and tell me you need mine or my kid’s bone marrow,” you were quiet. “It sure looks like you need my help.” You were silent, unable to find the words to improve this situation. “Lucas was right; your stubbornness is going to be the death of you. I will not stand by and watch it happen.” He left suddenly, and the room you were in was quiet. Sighing, you slapped your hand down on the bed. You were so stupid; sometimes, you spoke without thinking of the consequences.

Death. It wasn’t something you feared. It was a concept that your mom always introduced you to, especially with the nature of her job. So how the hell were you supposed to look at the man and tell him you weren’t afraid of dying?

*

Once the bag was empty and Helen knew you could stand alone, she released you from med bay. However, she gave you strict orders to come back if you began to feel worse. You agreed, only to please her. You knew you should find Tony and apologize for what you said. But you got your stubbornness from your mom. Instead, you went to our room, grabbed your sketchbook, and walked to the training area where FRIDAY informed you the rest of the team was.

Your presence went unnoticed by the team as they were engrossed in their training. You found a spot out of the way and began drawing the scene before you. Watching the Avengers train and be in their natural element was exciting. You enjoyed drawing them and coming up with stories to tell. You found the superhero group fascinating. They were brought together because they were deemed to be extraordinary. This group was tasked to save the world and protect people they did not know who needed help. It was noble work.

You sighed, twirling the pencil you were using in your hand. They were trying to help you. You are a complete stranger that came into their life and turned it on their head. You were curious if you were going to be around long enough to thank them.

Glancing up from your sketchbook, their training session ended, and the Avengers were split into smaller groups. You noticed Kate looking at you, and she gave you a small wave. She was standing with America, Peter, Kate, and the blonde Black Widow. You weren’t sure what they were talking about, but you saw Kate, America, and Peter start to walk over to you. The blonde hesitated as she looked at you but joined her sister and Bucky instead. You frowned slightly. “Hey,” Kate said, sitting next to you and you smiled. “You look a lot better than the last time we saw you.” You chuckled, closed the sketchbook, and placed it on your lap.

“Sorry about,” you hated worrying people.

“Just glad to see up and walking around.” America smiled. “What did they say that caused it?” You sighed, picking at the cover of the book.

“Doctor thinks it’s because I’m not eating or drinking enough. But I’m trying.” You felt the need to defend yourself. “It’s just-”

“Hard?” Peter guessed. You nodded. “Listen, I think you are doing great. Far better than I would be doing.” The couple nodded in agreement. You smiled.

“So, what are you guys training for? Do you have a mission coming up?” The trio looked at one another. “Can you not tell me?”

“Unsure, really,” America said. “A lot of the stuff we do is ‘need to know,’” she added the quotes around the words. “But you live in the tower but aren’t an Avenger.” You raised your hands.

“Then don’t tell me,” you chuckled. “All I care about is that you guys return safe,” Kate smirked. You weren’t sure why it felt like you walked into a trap.

“Especially a certain blonde.” Your face dropped, and you felt your stomach drop.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you mumbled. The trio laughed, which got the attention of the blonde. You refused to look at her as you felt your body head up from embarrassment.

“Miss. Easton,” the AI said. The sudden voice of the AI made their laughter die down. “Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts wish to speak with you on their floor.” You groaned.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked. You shrugged.

“Not sure,” you sighed and stood up. “But I may need backup.” Kate chuckled, shaking her head.

“Well, let FRIDAY know, and we’ll be there.” You nodded and walked out of the training area, sketchbook tucked underneath your arm. When your mom discovered you had a drawing talent, she worried that sometimes you would get lost in the worlds you created. But the worlds you made were more manageable than the one you lived in.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,

[randybutternubber]

Yippee!!! OC time! This is Angel!

(Art made with a Picrew)

She's a LN child, except due to the weird screwiness of The Nowhere, she has wings. She's 10 years old and isn't very good at flying, but she still can as a last resort. She likes helping other kids, usually by causing a distraction while using her wings to stay out of danger. She can still be knocked out of the air by ranged attacks tho, such as The Butlers telekinesis, The Hunters gun, The Viewers sonic screech attack, etc.

Backstory:

She was raised in a place called The Aviary, run by a monster called The Keeper. The Keeper had extremely long and thin arms and legs, paired with a tiny torso and very tall head. It would keep children contained in cages extremely high above the ground. Occasionally, it would take one and drop it from a massive height, seemingly trying to teach them to fly. Most children died on impact. Those who didn’t were taken and put into individual cages, closer to the center, where they were “cared for” more thoroughly by The Keeper, until they died from their injuries soon after. Angel, due to her wings, is the only one who survived without injury. She had tried to fly away, but had been caught by The Keeper, who seemed overjoyed at a true success. It had taken her and placed her in the pride of place, a golden cage in the middle of the Aviary. It always pays special attention to her, bringing her more food and little gifts, as well as taking the time to stroke her wings or head. Basically treating her like a beloved pet. She hates it. She doesn’t like being caged, she finds The Keeper revolting, and she is incredibly lonely. 

She often watches the other children grouped in the other cages, taking note of how they, while far from being happy, share a sense of companionship with one another. One of them talked to her once. He was close enough that they could speak to each other. He was the one who had given her her name, saying she reminded him of stories he’d heard about Guardian Angels. However, The Keeper had walked in while the two of them were mid-sentence, and upon witnessing their conversation, it had immediately “tested” the boy. Angel can still remember the screams as the boy fell, and the sickening crack as he hit the floor. She’d stared in shock as The Keeper had picked up his limp body off the floor, before opening its mouth and sliding the boy in. It was only when she felt The Keepers hand patting her wings that she fully processed what had happened, breaking down and crying. She never tried to speak to another kid again, and they never tried to speak to her either. She tells herself that it wasn’t her fault, that he would’ve died eventually anyway, but sometimes despair overwhelms her to the point that this isn’t enough. After The Keeper dies (TBD) and she and the others escape, she feels even worse about it, wondering if he would’ve lived long enough to escape if it weren’t for her.

This is all I've got rn! Feel free to ask questions! And thanks for reading this! :D

I LOVE THIS!!!

I like the idea of that sort of twisted affection the keeper has for angel, she’s his prized pet, not a person or his child, just a pet.

I also can’t imagine the sort of guilt and pain from that kind of self imposed isolation that she endured. In a way, I’m sure a lot of ln kids probably have similar experiences causing some to be very closed off to communication. Not to mention the idea of “being alone in a room full of life” that’s going on with her being surrounded with other children yet ultimately being forced to not interact with them for their own safety and still being forced to watch them to fall to their deaths.

She’s in a literal prison made of gold. I also love the irony of her having wings yet still being trapped. In a terrible way, the very thing that saved her from dying while falling was what led to her being not just imprisoned again, but special in a terrible, terrible way.

If you have any more refs for her I’d love to draw her some time. Feel free to visit my ask box or dm me any time I’m always open to talking

[leggerefiore]

cw: twin wardens au, pla ingo, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), fluff mostly,

ughhh debating writing more here but idk where to go with it

---

It was astonishing how they never realised they were twins.

Certainly, their amnesia was at play for their lack of memories and understanding of their past lives, and you understood that completely. Naturally, they had ended up separated, too, when they had landed it the wilds of Hisui. Emmet taken in by the Diamond Clan and Ingo taken by the Pearl Clan. The care shown for both of them by essentially strangers was endearing, and definitely was how they ended up recovering from falling out of the sky as well as they did. This did, however, mean they were completely unaware of each other's existences before they took over their positions as Wardens in the highlands.

Emmet at first believed they should be rivals, knowing that while the tensions were low between the clans, there was a chance that this person could be a bad actor. Ingo simply wished to have a professional politeness with his neighbour. Needless to say, they were both absolutely shocked when they had finally encountered one another. It was like gazing into an oddly twisted mirror and seeing an alternate version of yourself rather than a simple reflection. Emmet became paranoid that Ingo had copied him, but the Pearl Clan Warden easily explained that he was stunned by their similarities, too.

They quickly found themselves spending most of their time together up in the highlands when they were away from their duties as Wardens. Even moving in together to help manage their food resources and guard themselves from the harsh wilds. Emmet's odd spider pokemon that had refused to leave his side since he was found had grown and evolved into another pokemon that proved itself useful for obtaining silk for fabrics of various use. Both seemingly found the electric type quite a familiar thing, but neither knew just what to call it.

Their respective clans had found their closeness a bit odd at first, yet easily accepted it as it proved beneficial to everyone.

You still were stunned after meeting them both that neither had come to the conclusion that they were brothers. Ingo had simply introduced Emmet as a fellow Warden, and Emmet solely referred to Ingo by his name, not a single 'brother' called out by him. It was odd, especially as you had known them before your time in Hisui. They were extremely close back in Unova, completely inseparable. It must have been obvious to them here, too, but for whatever reason it had simply never occurred to them.

The time for asking questions came as Ingo led you through a cave in the highlands. You hung close to his side as he claimed that it was difficult to navigate and becoming 'uncoupled' was not allowed. You giggled at his word choice. A cruel irony, as you technically had been separated from your relationship with him due to his memory issues. Still, just being around him helped relieve a lot of the stress you had been going through in Hisui. Both he and Emmet had certainly gone through similar situations to you. Though, their memory loss had likely made adjusting easier.

“So… How close are you with Emmet?” you asked, finally breaking the silence in a meaningful way, “You two seem like brothers.” The time to tell them about your situation simply had not come yet. The idea of suddenly bursting out that you knew everything about them just felt wrong. It would cause them much unneeded stress, and they seemed perfectly fine the way they are.

“Well, we have taken to sharing a residence for safety reasons,” he replied, “Emmet seems like a nice fellow. A bit too playful at times, but he takes his duties as a Warden quite serious. I respect him.” You nodded along. That almost sounded like how he would describe Emmet back home to strangers. Even calling him a fellow rather than his brother.

“Ah, well, you two looked like brothers to me,” you smiled at him, “You two are identical, you know.” He stopped for a moment and looked around the rocky walls of the darkened cave. It seemed that thought had occurred to him already, but he had chosen not to pursue that line of thinking for whatever reason. You wandered in front of him to look him in the eyes.

“... Is that so? Well, I suppose I do feel like I have known him for a while,” he stated and brought a hand to stroke his goatee, “I wonder which one of us was the older sibling in that case.” You wanted to laugh at his words. The thought of Ingo even viewing Emmet as the older one seemed like an impossible thought back in Unova. Of course, it was impossible to tell with them without prior knowledge.

“I'd say you,” you hummed, “You seem like an older brother.” Ingo once more nodded at your words and began walking once more. You followed alongside him, just as you had before, now wondering what was racing through his head. His guided trip ended, and you separated for now. It was strangely lonely leaving his side once more to face the wilds on your own.

~

After the Noble pokemon Electrode had been calmed, you crashed outside the arena with a feeling of electric surging still racing through your veins. Somehow, he had felt more threatening than the other three nobles had been. Even Arcanine did not hold a flame to the way Electrode seemingly went after you. You needed to rest for a moment, so you ignored the concerned questions of both Laventon, Adaman, and Emmet.

In your moment of just zoning out, you felt something being softly taken out of your bones. The electrifying feeling finally fading after so long. You turned your head to see an unexpected ally. “Galvantula,” you cooed of the pokemon, who stared at you with their big, adoring six eyes. You patted your lap, and the spider immediately crawled on and just purred. It seemed the other two men had since gone, too, leaving you alone with Emmet. The Warden sat down beside you with wide eyes as the spider nuzzled into your pets.

“... You know us, don't you?” Emmet asked with a tilt of his head, “He has been verrrry protective of me since I first woke up.” You smiled at the familiar feeling. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend to be back home on your couch, just spending time with Galvantula and the younger twin. “You also told Ingo we seemed like brothers,” he continued, “He said you told him he seemed like an older brother.” It appeared the twins had already gossiped amongst themselves. There was rarely anything kept from between them.

“You both look older, you know,” you leaned your head onto his shoulder, “Still identical, though. You two really are twins.” Emmet hummed at your words. A sigh came from you when he placed a hand on your head and softly massaged your scalp. “Yeah, I knew you two,” you answered him properly, “We… We were dating.” It felt bad going against your words, but you decided not to provide them any information that they did not ask for.

“Heehee, I told him that,” Emmet's voice was light and teasing, “Ingo did not believe me when I said you looked at him with pure love.” Your cheeks grew warm at your words. Irida had mentioned your gaze, too. Apparently, your expressions were obvious to everyone but Ingo. “So was it my brother and me you were dating?” he questioned again.

“Both,” you told him. His fingers froze.

“Wooow,” that information had actually caught him off guard, “Couldn't choose?” You wanted to lightly hit his shoulder.

“I'll pick Ingo, then,” you threatened him playfully. He feigned terror.

“Mmm, nope!” he cooed and nuzzled his cheek against your head, “Me.” You laughed.

~

You stared at the Warden blocking your exit from the cabin with heavy annoyance. Ingo did little to make his brother move, too, which worsened your mood.

While Ingo had seemed mostly indifferent to your exploration for the plates with Volo, Emmet had taken up an opposing position. He had been entirely against it. Something about the blond set off the younger twin to a point where he stood quite literally blocking your only way out to meet him. You had decided to stay with the twins after returning from your banishment from Jubilife simply because the tensions of living there had become too much to bear, but you were currently regretting that decision.

“Emmet,” you sternly spoke, “Volo and I are searching for something of great importance. If it works, I think we may have a way to go home.” Arceus... It was a word neither you nor the blond had said, but completely understood the legendary pokemon to be the final goal. Arceus had been who brought you here, so it was easy to assume that it would too be your way back home. This was your plan to return both you and the twins to modern Unova. Of course, this was currently at a pause.

“He is not trustworthy,” Emmet shook his head, “He's a liar.” Liar? Interesting choice of words, but you supposed he did always prefer honesty. Volo, however, had never really lied to you. He seemed like a kind and helpful person. Even being the only one to reach out to you during your banishment.

“Is this jealousy, Em? I understand if you're uncomfortable with me being alone with another man, but I have my reasons,” you tried to explain, but the younger twin only seemed more frustrated with everything. Ingo finally gazed up from the stew he was stirring at you both.

“Perhaps Emmet could go with you?” he offered, “I imagine it would make everything more bearable.” You sighed but agreed. Emmet being there would be helpful for any dangerous situations, and it would help mitigate his worries. The Diamond Clan Warden hummed for a moment before nodding.

Hopefully, Volo would not mind your new addition.

[chaoticbardlady99]

WIP Friday cause I missed Wednesday

Here is a short snippet from Floozy (Astarion x OC), Floozy is just the title more for the irony because like they both learn they are more than just sex

It’s basically a fake dating plot and the two stupids fall in love

Thanks for the tag @preciouslittlebhaalbae !!!

She’s rather adorable with her pouty lips and her eyebrows furrowed. Astarion hates to admit that he understands why she has so many regulars now. He had to bring quite a few people to Cazador in his little misguided vengeance plot.

Shit, he begins to panic, my smart mouth- Gods dammit.

“I- can we start over?”

Imogen looks at him incredulously.

“You basically called me worthless after you tried to kidnap me for you and Cazador to have your way wi-“

And the flip switches again.

“Now you need to shut the hell up,” Astarion snarls, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? Then what happened? Enlighten me!”

He freezes- does she know he’s a spawn or does she think he’s something else entirely? Would she kill him if she knew?

She shakes her head, “At least take some fucking accountability for your decisions before you have the gall to ask me to ‘start over’.”

Astarion’s face twists in fury and he storms off back towards camp. He knows if he’s around her any longer then he has to be he’s going to kill her. It might be better to start working on the Cleric with the ridiculous name.

Shadowheart and Gale are around the fire and making food by the time Astarion gets back- he says his appetite is ruined and goes to the forest to hunt.

It goes miserably- he barely catches the wild boar he just consumed, but it still isn’t enough. He still feels weak and tired.

So he attempts to catch another Wild Boar. This one is craftier than the last- racing across different terrains and using Astarion’s lack of reaction time against him. He finally thinks he may be closing in on the Boar when it goes running out on an arch of rocks, but Astarion slips on the seafoam coating it and goes crashing face forward into the water near the beach Imogen had been cleaning her bedrolls with. He hears her shriek in surprise as his body hits the water, but Astarion is panicking for another reason entirely- he doesn’t know how to fucking swim.

You do not need to breathe- calm down! Stop thrashing!

Except he refuses to listen to his brain- his body is too invested in trying to survive like it’s a silly, weak mortal than a Vampire Spawn.

A sense of calm washes over him and Astarion’s tunnel vision begins to go away- he is pulled up out of the water by underneath his arms and pulled to the shore. He is still in shock- unable to say anything or even ask who this person is.

Of course it’s Imogen and she is laughing really really hard.

“I- I’m so sorry-” she snorts, “are- are you okay?”

“Oh yes, Dear, I am just peachy,” he says with a scoff, taking off his doublet and shaking it dry, “fucking beasts.”

“Ah- you were hunting that boar? I was wondering why it was so overtly cheerful and screaming ‘I WON’ as it went running away,” she teases in spite of herself, “I thought vampires were supposed to be Apex predators.”

“Yes- well,” he says sharply, “not all of us get the luxury to hunt or have a proper fucking meal for centuries on end so forgive me if I lack a skill I was never allowed to develop in the first place!”

There is complete silence and Astarion isn’t necessarily thrilled with himself for admitting his weakness and flaws to her so openly. It’s embarrassing how powerless Astarion is in regards to his situation and how he has to beg for the scraps of dead, rotting rats just to relieve some of the pain in his stomach. He is so hungry- he just wanted a second boar.

“Are you capable of stopping yourself? Before you… kill someone?”

The question is odd and confusing- Astarion turns around and looks at Imogen with a lifted eyebrow.

“While drinking their blood- I mean.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says plainly, “I have never had the chance.”

Imogen is thinking- that much he can tell- what about is the biggest concern to Astarion right now.

“What?”

She studies his face for a moment longer, her lips screwed to the side in thought and one cheek jutted out before she finally answers.

“You can drink from me- if you want,” she says slowly, “I think Gale has a scroll of Revivify so if you do… kill me- the deal is you steal it, resurrect me, and we don’t tell a soul what happened.”

Astarion is really confused now.

“I thought you hated me?”

“I don’t hate you, I am merely very angry with you,” she says thoughtfully, “but I think watching you take an impromptu bath helped immensely.”

He looks at her with unamused eyes and she just giggles at him- walking over with a dry rag from her cleaning station and handing it to him to dry his hair off. He accepts it begrudgingly, but continues to think on her offer.

Astarion really really does not want to be at someone else’s mercy, but a consistent food resource is a must if he plans on surviving this journey and eventually killing Cazador. It would also help to keep his vampirism a secret a bit longer if only one other person in camp knows.

However, he isn’t allowed to drink from thinking creatures- Cazador forbids it, but what Cazador doesn’t know won’t hurt him or Astarion and it’s not like Cazador is present in his head now. He feels free of him- it would be safe to indulge.

Right?

And Gods- he is fucking starving and desperate. It must be obvious enough for her to offer and after 200 years of pure shit, he definitely deserves to drink the blood of a beautiful woman.

“I- I would greatly appreciate it if you would be willing to let me feed from you,” he says sheepishly, “I just need a little bit and I won’t hurt you- I swear.”

“I know- I believe you,” she flashes him her signature smile.

So this is how someone gets as many regulars who talk as highly about them as she does. Imogen is open and willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt. Some of her regulars were not good people, but they were good to her. It was like she was a home for all the sinners- a saint amongst humanoid-kind. Astarion would be more annoyed if he wasn’t at her mercy right now.

Astarion is trying to calm his excitement as they go walking further down the beach to a much more secluded spot behind a rock- neither one of them wants to attract the attention of a well meaning stranger who thinks they are saving the beautiful damsel.

Imogen lays down and brushes her hair to the side- putting both of her arms awkwardly to the side. She is as stiff as a corpse and Astarion can’t help but laugh.

“Not a normal part of your services, I take it?”

“Ha!” she snorts, “no, but thanks for the idea. I’m going to charge a small fortune for this from now on!”

“Shit.”

Imogen throws her head back in laughter. She has a good sense of humor or at least he hopes it’s humor- he doesn’t have a single coin to his name.

They both look at each other- both nervous, him to kill her and be staked by their other two companions and her being drained dry and left to rot out in the sun. Both of them are putting quite a lot of trust into each other right now.

“Uh, count of three?” She says awkwardly.

“What?”

“Bite on the count of thre-“

Astarion just goes for it and she gasps underneath him- her hands clutching at his shoulders and her fingers digging into them.

She tastes incredible, like a nice vintage, and her racing heartbeat just spurs his instincts on. There is even the slightest hint of… arousal? Astarion smiles in spite of himself.

Got you.

If this feels good for her too, then maybe he’s the one who should be charging.

The warmth of her life force courses through his body and he can feel the slightest phantom heartbeat in his chest from finally having a proper meal.

Astarion feels incredible- his head has never been clear and his persistent agitation with the universe has lifted.

He finally feels happy.

“As-Astarion-“ Imogen’s voice is weak, but the predator in him doesn’t care, “I… I don’t feel…”

He barely manages to pull himself away and she is blinking hazily through the blood loss. Astarion can’t help but feel slightly alarmed- he didn’t think about draining her too much and then having to carry her back to camp in this state.

“Just give me… minute,” she yawns, “I know lesser… restor….”

“You won’t be able to cast it if you fall asleep,” he says, “do you have a healing potion or something?”

“Huh- that would have been a good idea,” she says lazily, “remember that for next time.”

Astarion laughs, positively giddy that there will be a “next time”, and he doesn’t know why, but his face falls into the crook of her neck- lapping absentmindedly at the wound. A whine of pleasure leaves her throat and Astarion smirks- his hand trailing down her body and going to her navel. She grabs his hand, jolting him from his thoughts.

“Astarion,” she says softly, “I was joking earlier- please don’t feel like you owe me something.

“A health potion would be nice though.”

Astarion removes his face from her neck and looks at her with shock- unfortunately he isn’t given much time to collect his thoughts.

“Oh holy shit.”

No pressure tag: @bg3-stole-my-soul @bg-brainrot @amica-aenigmata-naboo

[annbourbon]

[[Name]]less

"Names are very important. Names have power. It doesn't matter if it's living or not. Once you give it a name you embodied that person or object. With the same anount of power." Says Yuuko in XxXHolic.

And I'm so sorry it took me so long to remember this quote~~

The irony is that it's not the first time listening to this. So let's delve into your name and why it's important. Especially in magical settings.

But to do that we need to be remembered of The Karmic Laws. Especially these:

You create your reality ~ Interconnection ~ Responsibility ~ Ripple Effect

You create your own reality.

You are chained down by your actions, words, and thoughts.

By now we all are fully aware of the Attraction Law. In truth, this has nothing to do with magic but with the way you are (remember that Karma is nothing but cause~effect) Hence why there's this urgency in curating our own life. To consume media carefully designed to better our lives and not the contrary. However not everyone does this. And even less people pay attention to the way they behave or are around others. We all are self-fulfilling prophecies. But have you ever thought of yourself helpless? That's because you have allowed others to take control and dictate your own reality.

Responsibility

You are responsible for your own happiness. However, you are also allowed to ask for something that it's not happiness. Yes, as strange as it seems, more often than not in our world, we strive for other emotions that are not happiness.

The question is if we're to break the compromise we have towards our own self.

Interconnection & Ripple Effect

No matter how small the problem is, how small the thing is, it always affects the people around you. We are not alone in this world.~ Yuuko Ichihara.

Your actions. Your food. All, from the clothes you wear to the place where you live. The people who bring food to your place and those who spent months cultivating them for you to eat. We are connected.

There's a term called interconnection or interdependence. The more you explore it the more grateful and terrified are of it. Grateful because our bonds are not easily broken. Terrified because of the way we affect others. We hold responsibilities just by existing. When we communicate our worries and fears, or our hopes. These, that are only of our own, end up chaining others as well.

That's why compliments can be complicated to come by sometimes.

To speak too much positivity will lead a person to find themselves as terrified of making mistakes as if you'd scream in disappointment. In both ways, chained.

Wish more of us would wonder about the effects our words have on others. How many people do we affect every day without realizing? How has what escaped from my lips weighed on those people?*

Frightening things, these words. Once they’ve escaped a person lips, they can never be returned. Once heard, they can never be ignored. Still, people throw them out far to lightly, often unaware of the chains they create.~ Ichihara Yuuko.

For another example, Chihiro name was tied to her memories too. Without her name she would have been trapped forever.

And even the name change wasn't fortuitous. Sen [[ 千 · せん ]] means thousand in Japanese. Not exactly subtle when it comes to name changes but the goal is reached anyways~ as the question arises: Are we able to navigate between a sea of thousands of people each day, sharing perspectives, opinions, being tied one to another in more ways than one~ and still keep our identity intact?

After all, names are a symbol. A symbol of our own identity. Tied to our mind. Though a name as Juliet in Shakespeare says, doesn't really matter for in essence a rose keeps smelling equally sweet. The names are in many ways, tied to our emotions and memories. There's a quote that explains it way better than me~

"Names have power, like magic spells. All of the sudden it seemed that her stepmother and stepsisters had indeed transformed her into merely a creature of ash and toil.” ~ Cinderella, live action. (2015)

Now that we have talked about that, we're gonna have to go back to fairies.

Mythology ~ Changelings

A changeling was a substitute left by a supernatural being when kidnapping a human being. Sometimes the changeling was a 'stock' (a piece of wood made magically to resemble the kidnapped human), more often the changeling was a supernatural being made magically to look like the kidnapped human. Supernatural beings blamed for stealing children included fairies, demons, trolls, nereids and many others. Usually, the kidnapped human was a child; but there were cases, particularly in Scandinavia and Ireland, where adults were taken.

Wikipedia

And

It was thought that fairies could only change their weakly and more starveling elves for the more robust offspring of men before baptism. In the Highlands, children used to be watched until the christening was over, lest they should be stolen or changed by the fairies.

Pantheon.org

There are several stories about changeling. Usually those were nothing but ways to explain why certain babies were dying, sick or different, in an autistic way but for the era they used what they could to explain it. And if I'm not mistaken, even though right now I couldn't find it, one of the methods for "having your kid back" was to call it by the name you would have given to before they were taken away. Acknowledging the presence of the changeling. Although other methods were much more bloody and included to torture the changeling. Or to guess for the name of the changeling.

One of the stories, if not about changelings about names and how important they are, it's Rumpelstiltskin.

A character who is presented to us as a mysterious gnomelike man who spins straw into gold for the benefit of a beautiful miller's daughter, in exchange for her future firstborn child.

Britannica.

When the gnome reappears to demand his payment the young woman, now a queen, cries and asks for mercy. He gives her three days to find his real name or he'll take her daughter. In the end she wins of course, and gets to keep the child and that's how we get to now his name is Rumpelstiltskin.

However, by bringing on this story I had another purpose too, as the story of Rumpelstiltskin summarizes in perfection several Karmic Laws:

You create your reality ~ Interconnection ~ Responsibility ~ Ripple Effect ~ Truthfulness

The moral of the story is, “Always tell the truth, and take responsibility of your actions”. If the miller’s daughter (in some variations is the father, but that only adds more weight to our interconnections and the ripple effect these have) had been truthful to the King, she would have never found herself in this situation. However, once she was trapped under the burden of her promise, she had to find her way out of it and honour the deal.

(...) Which is another way to learn never to accept deals from strangers without fully understanding the consequences and expectations.

FirstCry.com

Remember the deals and contracts I told you about in my last posts? Well~ as I said, things tend to connect.

And finally~ how does this ties to the Cheritzverse?

Well, for starters~ it's interesting to notice how the first game (Dandelion) did not allowed us to change the MC name. Her name is Heejung. That's it. However she loses her memories by the end of the game.

And this sets the second game~ Nameless. Making a big deal out of lost memories. And even better~ the game this time allows us to change the protagonist name. While her name is originally still there~ Eri. Now you have the power to change it.

By Mystic Messenger the MC has no name at all. And also, no memories and no eyes. Historically eyes are tied to our soul. To our emotions. I'll talk about this later in another post.

The Ssum not only goes as far as letting us change our own name, but our S.O. name too. And as players, some features are unlocked when you change the names, especially to the RFA members.

In the end, I don't think it's a coincidence the way it's played out. Especially not when we know the Wizard loves to take memories as a method of payment.

⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆

Links:

* Words are living beings

* Spirited Away

* Wiki - Changelings

* Changelings

* Rumpelstiltskin

* Britannica ~ Rumpelstiltskin

[tsuteychubbyhumanmate]

Their concubine 3

Pairing: Namor/K’ul’ku’kan x reader x Shuri, Namor/K’ul’ku’kan x Shuri ft M'baku x reader

Warnings: Heartbreak, Augst, Harsh arguments, Hurt comfort, M'baku is the dude, Loneliness, Name-calling, Pregnancies, M'baku has feelings for MC, Fighting, Makeup sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Praising kink, Passionate sex.

Summary: the enjoined kingdoms celebrated as their king and queen were expecting an heir to the throne. As the months go on, you became more and more invisible to everyone, even to the two people you thought loved you the most, after an argument with Namur and Shuri, You went to the only person by who you felt heard and seen; M'baku.

A/n: Finally done!!

You smiled as the two kingdoms celebrated with music, and dancing. Drinks, and foods of all kinds sat on a long table, and joyful faces filled the massive open room, congratulating the queen and king, it was this morning that you three found out that Shuri' was pregnant. You and she cried, you were gonna be mothers! Although you weren't carrying the little bean you already felt like it was yours as well. Namor didn't cry of course but you both could tell it meant everything to him, that's why he threw this celebration.

You took a sip of your choice of drink as you watched as Attima slapped Namor on the back, his shoulders moved up and down with laughter, Namor just shook his head at his General with a grin as Shuri talked to Riri with a bashful look, you can't tell what your cousin had said but hanging out with her when you had time, you knew she can say some pretty creative things.

You tried to make it over there but people seem to always push you back so you decided to watch on the sidelines, you're sure you can spend with them tonight since you kinda lived in Wakanda now and sleep in the same bed as your lovers, you, of course still have your house which you owned so you didn't have to pay rent "Y/n right?" You turned to M'baku "You know me already, M." you rolled your eyes playfully as he busted out laughing "Yes, yes loosen up Impungutye encinci (little foxy)" he pats your back with a smile "You look beautiful this afternoon." he complimented, you looked down at your Peacock-themed gown with a happy smile it was a gift that Namor had made for you, when it was just you two, with a note saying:

'Not even a Peacock's beauty can compare to yours, it can only enhance that beautifulness, I wish to see you in this someday.

Love A ajawo' '

"Thank you." you finished your drink and sat it on a nearby server's platter "Can I have a dance? We can't let that dress get dusty now, can we?" M'baku offers and you took it with a soft giggle, he walked you to the dance floor by Shuri and Namor as a slow song played for couples or in your situation friends, you both swayed to the rhythm with a peaceful atmosphere "May I cut in?" Shuri asked after tapping M'baku's shoulder "Of course. My queen." he bowed to her teasingly before stalking past Shuri and into the crowd. Shuri's hands meet your waist and hand as your other one rested on her shoulder "I'm so happy, I'm gonna be a mother (N/N)." She said in slight disbelief "I know so I am, we're in this together." you said, she smiles swaying you and looking into your eyes like it was just you guys in the room, in the world suddenly she looks behind you and a mischievous twinkle filed her dark brown eyes "Shuri?" you questioned nervously, that was never a good sign, she, of course, didn't answer but instead spurned you around and let you go mild-spun someone's arms, you could already tell who it was by the smell of saltwater, Namor "I was right, Peacocks can only make you even more gorgeous" he smirked, proud of himself as he danced with you, Shuri watching from the sidelines with her smile.

That night you celebrated with a night full of passion. Some nights you chuckled bitterly at the irony of your current situation when you think of that day 'We're in this together...what a joke.' you thought as you lay in a once again empty cold bed, it's been like that for a while, you turned around and looked at their side of the bed, you can still remember the last time that they bothered to pay attention to you, to touch you. It was 3 months ago and a week when Shuri was 5 months pregnant, you couldn't forget because well how does a woman forget the time she got pregnant? That's right you were 3 months pregnant with Namor's second child, and you finally fulfilled His wish of giving him a child that was born from you and sired by him but that seemed to be all just a pretty lie now. They barely give you the time of day anymore, even at night, Namor's arms wrapped around Shuri, his back facing you and inches away from you and all you could do was to turn around to lessen the pain.

You got up and out of your nightgown, put on a baggy shirt, did your morning ritual including morning sickness, and walked to the royal kitchen to have something that doesn't make you throw up before going on the search for Namor and Shuri. You asked around the palace, and most wouldn't say but one person pitied you and said last time they checked they were in the throne room "Thank you" you smiled politely and waved at them, and went just there. "Little fox!" M'baku greeted you on your way to said room "M'baku," you greeted "Have you seen Shuri and K’ul’ku’kan?" you asked looking at him hopefully "I just finished a meeting with the queen and king." "Really?! where did they go?" you might catch up with them this time! "I don't know little fox, they called off their royal duties," he informed you "Oh," you looked to the floor "Oh..." you spoke again with such disappointment that M'baku frowned, his heart aching, you were so beautiful and good of a person to be this sad "Let's go for a swim little fox." He blurted out without thinking, you look up at him surprised and confused "In one of my mountains, there's a beautiful waterfall. Why don't we get you out of the stuffy Palace?" he continued before you could speak up, you stay quiet, and thought about, you would be in the comfort of a friend and someone who wanted you around "Why not." you smiled at him "let's go," M'baku grab your hand and you both sneaked out of the castle and into his aircraft. The ride to the waterfall wasn't long so you made it there in no time, the sight was beautiful, the snow from the snowing Mountain, covered the rocks and the grass the water look hot if the steam coming up from it was anything go by, it was a like hot springs, excitedly you took off your baggy clothes, not caring you were just in your underwear it was more comfort than sexy so you felt okay around M'baku, you walked towards the falling water and got it, all feelings of tension tumble off your shoulders like waves as you sat down, the water reaches your chin.

"Better?" M'baku asked his usual armor and furs gone, he walked towards you in the water with only his underwear and sat down comfortably a distance from you. "lots." you giggled "Thank you." you smiled "It's nothing." he said and a comfortable silence befalls you before M'baku spoke "Do they know?" he asked looking at the running water "W-What?" you stuttered "Do they know that your 3 months pregnant?" he asked again looking to you this time "No.." you admitted finding the forest more interesting than this conversation "They're too busy to pay attention to me.." tears filed your eyes and the want to cry was overwhelmed just as a tear falls a large splash of water hits your face and laugher enters your ears "Hey!" you gasped and he laughed harder. "Why you!" you used all that you could in yourself and Splash him, M'baku laughing came to a short as part of the water forced itself down his throat proceeding to make him choke, and the face he made, the chest slapping him bending over, completely and absolutely made you lose your mind, laughter once again still to the forest and M'baku, despite his soul close to leaving the earth, a smile stretched onto his face at your beautiful laugh, he splashing you again, starting a water fight.

You smiled slightly at yourself as you dried your hair and body from getting out of the shower of your lonely but shared room, it was nice to have finally what felt like ever fun, someone who wanted you around, most people would've have told you to leave but the truth is that you're hopelessly devoted to Shuri and Namor, you didn't want to leave ever, but 'but no.' you thought brushing your hair and finished your daily night, you took on last glance at your covered belly and walked out the bathroom. you had been with M'Baku most of the day, he showed you around his tribe, and the mountains were more beautiful than you thought, you paused at seeing the empty bed usually, Namor and Shuri would be in bed, it was nightfall, and your brows frowned, you knew they could take care of themselves but still you worried so you quickly got dressed and search castle for your missing lovers, you chose to look in the lab first, then the throne room and the pool, you stopped at the library, the last place, you slowly open the door and peaked inside, tears came to your eyes as Namor's backside as he thrusted into Shuri, her desperate moans and his dirty talking enter your ears "Joder, uk'ik in polla bey in puta reina, le mía, le mía. Mix máak u yaantal teech bey Teene'! Mix máak je'el u páajtal u yaantal in yaakunaj sino teech! Joder, in yaakunech Shuri! (Fuck, taking my cock like my slutty queen, mine, mine. Nobody can have you like me! Nobody can have my love but you! Fuck I love you Shuri!)" Namor grunted before kissing his wife.

No, no he had to be just saying that, spur of the moment, or was it true? He didn't love you anymore, he wouldn't love the small bean, at this thought your hand move to rest against your stomach. No, no you had to talk to him, and Shuri no more ring around the rosie, silently you close the door and went to bed with a newfound determination.

When you woke up, they were gone but this time you knew where they are, the throne room.

You got changed into a baggy striped white and back shirt, a black flowy skirt with a blue jean jacket, and walked to the throne with your head high, there were guards in front of the door, but you moved past them busting into the room as they tried to stop you, the room was filled with each tribes leader and Namor and Shuri "I need to talk to you." you stared at Namor with determination and strength as the elders begin to complain "What is this child doing!" "This is a private meeting little girl." "You don't belong here!" "Guards get her!" they all stop as Namor raised his hand, looking to their king for his say in the matter "Leave us," he commanded not taking his eyes off of you, the elders and M'baku left reluctantly "You too In Reina." his harden eyes soften at heavily pregnant Shuri, you could see she wanted to protest but decided to just go, and she walked pasted you without a glance to you. Leaving an aching and stinging feeling in your chest.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly, getting up from his throne, his eyes hardening again"Why are you guys avoiding me?" you asked walking up to him "Do you still even love me anymore? Or is Shuri more worthy of your love?" you questioned again standing in front of him "She is my queen, my wife." He looked at you, and you could feel like everything was going down the drain "You didn't even answer the other question! Well?" you yelled "You're a nuisance." he spat, but his voice held no fire, it was like you could hear your heart break part as tears gloss over your eyes but, you refuse to cry in front of this man, you just stormed out of the room, down the hallway to a corner and let out a heart clenching sobs, hands hugging yourself as you slide down the wall, sobbing harder as a pair of strong arms surround you in their embrace "it will be okay little fox." M'baku whispered as you wailed in his arms "Come I'll take you to my home and you will heal there." he gently pulled you to stand and walk you to his aircraft, you were too weak, too tired of not being wanted so you let him take you away from what used to be your second home.

Living with M'baku was so fun, each day was a new adventure, and even though his tribe was vegetarian, he had his chefs cook you some meat dishes if you wanted some. It had to be half a week since you had left your lover and started to live with M'baku, it also had its ups and downs, nights where you couldn't sleep, and would cry into his arms, and ups, where you spent an afternoon teaching Baku how to cook, it ended up with flour all over the floor and you both. Today M'baku was gonna take you to a 'surprised' you couldn't wait!

Namor rolled his shoulders as he sat back against his office chair after finishing some documents, "Attuma." he called to his general "Je'el K’ul’ku’kan?" Attama raised to attention "How are Shuri and (Y/n)?" Namor asked standing up to visit his lovers "Le reina ma'alob, Namora le táan u kanantik yéetel le ko'olelo' (S leti' N) ku ts'o'ok u biin ichil chúumuk k'iino'ob in ajawo' (The queen is well, Namora is watching over her and lady (Y/N) has been gone for half a week my king)." If Attama was nervous for his ruler's reaction he hide it well "Wáaj ba'ax?(What?)" Namor spat "Le amante bin vista tumen ts'ook jóok'ol ti' brazos u líder le tribu M. baku, in Ajaw. Jach creer u leti' táan u p'áatal yéetel leti'. (The mistress was last seen leaving in tribe leader M'baku's arms, my king. It is to believe she's staying with him.)" Namor silently took in the information before storming out of his study and to the Jabari tribe, he had something to discuss with their leader.

M'baku saw the last person out of the throne, letting out a sigh of relief from such a boring meeting, to be finally taking you to the special diner he had planned, but his relaxation didn't last long as his body tensed, hearing commotion outside the room, the door slammed open as Namor walked in. "Where is she?" he asked glaring at M'baku "Why do you care now?" M'baku glared right back "She's my lover, mine so where she is." Namor asked again already losing his patience, his fists clenched and ready to swing "You don't deserve her fish man, I should be the one to shower love and affection especially if you can't even do that 'feathered serpent God'" M'baku's bitter laugh was cut short by a punch by his new king to the jaw, sending him to the stone floor a gasp caught Namor and M'baku's attention. Standing in the open door was the woman of the affection, a hand over her gaping mouth "(Y/N)..." Namor spoke softly as his eyes soften, a small smile on his lips and he completely turned around to you, "Jach ki'ichpam yéetel cautivadora bey Mantats', in ch'ujuk reina. (As gorgeous and captivating as always, my sweet queen.)" his smile turned to a frown as he noticed you weren't looking at him but at the man on the ground "M'baku! Oh my god, are you okay?" you ran to him, helping him up "I'm fine, little fox." M'baku wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand as he circle his arm around your waist "Get your hands off her." Namor growled stepping tenaciously toward you both, you pulled yourself away from M'baku's arm and rushed to Namor, laying your hands on his naked chest "K’ul’ku’kan, baby, please stop!" you begged, you tried to make eye contact with him but his gaze rested upon your best friend "if I ever see you touch her again, I'll kill you." he spat, taking a step closer, only stopping as you held his face in your hands, making him look at you "don't worry about him, please take me home my king." you cooed, trying to keep Namor's attention on you. He lifted you up bridal style and left M'baku there, to watch as you sadly wave goodbye to him.

Neither of you said anything to the other until you walked into your shared bedroom "(Y/N)..." Namor began, pausing but you knew, you knew he wanted to apologize but he was never used to saying sorry to anybody, not even to you. "Your eyes were so cold..like you didn't love me. Am I just a wet hole to stick yourself in?" you refused to look at him, you couldn't or you'd break, tears blurring your vision "Wáaj ba'ax? (what?)" he asked in pure disbelief, you spin around tears openly falling like rushing rivers "I am I just a toy to you?! Just a stupid moral woman that you could toy with and fuck while your goddess of a wife is busy ruling by your side." you sobbed, body trembling from the overwhelming sadness, Namor rushed to you, his large hands holding your cheeks, and his forehead on yours, breathing heavily like what you said knocked all the air from his body "Ma', ma', in yaakunech (No, no, I love you). I'll spend the rest of your life showing you that I do, let me prove it now, Cha' in meentik teech le yaakunaj in reina. (Let me make love to you my queen)." he looked into your eyes as he wipe away your tears, his pleading, so afraid to lose you "Ma'alob...(okay)" you replied in his mother tongue, wrapping your hands around his wrist, pulling them away from your face. His kisses were burning hot yet slow, gentle at the same time, his hands thrusting your body onto him, if he felt the baby bump he said nothing as his tongue wraps itself around yours, walking you onto the massive bed, the comfort of the memory foam caressed your back, clothes were quickly left on the floor and even being hurt by this fine, gorgeous old man, he could still get you wetter then any man. He ran his cockhead up and down your slit before slowly breaching your pussy, with a hard thrust his whole length takes it's place within you, his hands locked with yours "My queen, one of the most beautiful queens." he grunted, biting the lobe of your ear.

"Perdona ti' le ajawo' num, in yaakunech, haría Je'el ba'alake' ta wo'olal, jach perfecto, meentik in poolech ta wo'olal. (Forgive this foolish king, I love you, I'd do anything for you, So perfect, make me crazy for you.)" he praised, hammering and grinding into your pussy at a slow but bruising pace, his intense chocolate eyes gaze into your orbs, baited breaths entangled, and his pubic bone rubbed against the sensitive bud of nerves, ths light from the window shined on his brown skin "Harder, please." you begged bucking your hips, "as you wish my queen." he pecked your lips, that was the last gently thing he did, his held up your thighs as he fucked into you, mewls and cries were all you could let out as your king, hammered and pounding away from your poor body. You let out a gasp as he lifted your hips, gaining a new angle to hit that sport that made stars appear, faster and faster, harder and harder, orgasm after orgasm, so much you passed out what felt like a second, to be woken by Namor's pounding and groans, you came one last time with a cried as you felt your lover's hot, thick cum heat your sore pussy. You just laid in bed as Namor got up and got you clean"Are... Are you pregnant In yakunaj?" Namor asked, masking the pain he felt, he knew, he lived for five hundred years, and he could tell when a woman was pregnant, You nodded confirming his knowledge, two of his beloved queens are with children, and he made one feel unseen, unheard and unloved. He had failed as a lover and father to (y/n).

He promised he would make it up and he will.

Taglist: @galaxygirl453 , @plasticfantasticl0ver , @ogbells16, @blkmystery , @thiccktiredgirl , @gingermous ,@namorkawaiiwife ,@happyvibesonly1213 , @ladymadeleine ,@darkfairy102190 , @ezxlyn-vanasal , @tengens5thwife , @dayedreamm ,@blissdoutbyattuma , @namorslit , @deliciousfestsalad @notalwaysa, @omgsuperstarg @namorswifex , @vic-l0v3, @shuris1princess @tian-monique, @luz09 @rainqissedd

(@galaxygirl453 )

[shentheauthor]

I know I already asked for a harbinger headcanon srry :< But I gotta know what would happened if you mixed Cookie Run and the Harbingers sksksksk. You don’t have to make it ofc! Whether it’s them playing the game or being a cookie or even not making the headcanon is totally up to you! I just gotta say I rlly like your work!

Hey dw about requesting multiple times, I’m happy to do these!

I kinda feel like cookie-ifying them, so here we go

Pierro:

Ok so we don’t know much about Khaenri’ahn food

But I think flowers suit him well

I’d make him a petunia cookie

Why? Well, petunias once symbolized anger and resentment

So like how he feels about Celestia and the archons

Nowadays some of the meaning has been lost, but I think that works with how Teyvat has moved on on the surface

However, there’s still a lasting effect from the tragedy

He also wouldn’t go by petunia cookie, since that’s not super intimidating

So I’m gonna give him “jester cookie”

He would definitely take some bitter amusement in the irony

Capitano:

Another flower guy

I’m giving him poppies, since those are traditionally used to remember fallen soldiers

He also wouldn’t go by his ingredient name, bc poppies aren’t very intimidating

So he would be something like “captain cookie” or “warrior cookie”

He has definitely lost soldiers on the battlefield, so I think poppies are fitting

Maybe he even lost some of himself on the battlefield too…

Since most of his appearance is hidden, you wouldn’t be able to tell poppies are his ingredient

But if I were to design his cookie clothes, I would place poppies on his uniform

Hm maybe I will design them all

Dottore:

Biryani cookie

Why? I feel like he would like the food, next question

God I want biryani

Anyway! I think the fact that you can add different ingredients to biryani fits him well

So like prime can be kolkata biryani, one of the clones can be sindhi biryani, etc etc

Idk it just suits him

He would go by smth like heretic cookie, doctor cookie, or even his actual name

It depends on the segment

The segments would also have ingredient substitutions to emphasize the “wrong” nature of them

Plus mechanical parts

Columbina:

So she’s a mystery for sure

But I would call her “seelie cookie”

Nobody knows her ingredients

But some believe she was baked from food directly made in the Teyvat equivalent of the fae wilds

I’m a big fan of fae/seelie columbina

Some wonder if she’s even a cookie at all

Personally, I think she would be a sugar cookie made from special or magical sugar, or even a very light cake, like chiffon

Regardless, she isn’t a normal cookie

I think she and angel cookie would get along lmao

Arlecchino:

Oof she’s another hard one, since we don’t know much about her

Gonna call her ice shard cookie

She’s a sharp and stern character, so she would be made of something harsh

Like the cold bite of winter

No she is not anything like the Tsaritsa

But she is still a force to be reckoned with

She would actually go by her ingredient name, bc fuck code names

If she must, she would be called “knave cookie”

She’s one of the few I actually have ideas for their skill so

She would use an icicle as a fencing sword

Similar to raspberry cookie, but I feel like arle would be an ambush and target the opponent with the least amount of HP

Maybe do some aoe frost damage

Pulcinella:

He’s a hard one, but kasha cookie

Kasha is a healthy, hearty grain dish, like oatmeal, but even more grain

If that makes sense

Partially bc it’s a health food for older people (sorry nella /lh)

But also partially because it’s sturdy and stable

Idk it just makes sense to me since he’s a government official that seems to do his job well

I just felt it calling to me

This is what happens when you do too much research for fanfics lmao, you remember foods you have never once seen in your home country

He would go by kasha cookie. No code name necessary, unless he truly must. As mayor, his name probably has to be public lmao

I love he

Scaramouche:

Puppet cookie

It’s basic, but like, he wouldn’t have been given another name before

He started out as puppet cookie, was called kabukimono cookie on tatarasuna, then became balladeer cookie

And now, he’s wanderer cookie

He wouldn’t be made with any normal ingredients, bc he’s entirely artificial

I feel like he would be made of wood and ingredient substitutions

Carved and molded into a perfect imitation of a cookie

Another one I actually have skill ideas for

As balladeer cookie, he would have lightning based attacks that just function as dps dmg

As wanderer cookie, he would have air based attacks that do less damage than balladeer, but also debuff enemies and buff allies

Sandrone:

French Sandy is my current religion so

Soufflé cookie

Her perfectionism just suits the food

She would go by “marionette cookie”

No ingredient substitutions here, but she would def still experiment on other cookies

Her attacks would involve puppet strings trapping opponents, dealing damage and debuffing them

Support cookie that can still pack a punch

Signora:

Bringing this back to flower town babyyyyy

Blood rose cookie

If you look up “blood rose flower,” you’ll see a beautiful dark red rose that gives gothic vibes

Honestly my reasoning lies in the name

Roses are romantic, but black roses represent revenge

So blood roses are somewhat a cross between the two

Do you see my vision

She would go by blood rose cookie before the Fatui, but after joining, she would be “fair lady cookie”

I have so many ideas for her design actually, I’m going insane

Pantalone:

Mora cookie /j

For real tho, he was born poor, so…

Millet cookie

Millet is a grain that’s great for protein and key fibers that you need

So an excellent food for someone who can’t access real well-rounded meals

The lower class of ancient China often used millet as a meal

Oh also I should mention that Liyue Pantalone is my other religion

Anyway tho, he would absolutely NOT go by millet cookie

He’d go by golden cookie, or regrator cookie

He would be embarrassed about his lowly origins, wanting to leave it behind

So millet cookie is OUT

Tartaglia:

Borscht cookie

Borscht is common, first of all

Second of all, it’s red, and ginger go brrr

Third of all, it can be served hot or cold, and I think that fits Childe’s personality well

Warm and welcoming around family

Cold and calculating around enemies

Imagine his blades being made out of soup lmao

He wouldn’t go by borscht cookie, since he doesn’t go by Ajax in canon

He would be called shashka cookie, after his weapons

Imagine being so badass you get to go by KNIFE /j

But Fr tho, the only ones who get to call him borscht cookie are his family

He would look so cute as a cookie, I love him

It honestly makes me really happy to get a request combining my two main fandoms. I want people to know that I will happily do headcanons for any of my fandoms, not just genshin. Hell I’ll do other characters besides harbingers too! Ik I made a bit of a name for myself with harbinger headcanons, but I would love to branch out!

[invisibleraven]

"Everything will be alright" for Willie/anyone?

“Name?”

“Willie.”

“Name.”

Willie considered repeating himself, but given the stern look on the no nonsense government official’s face, he figured now was not the time, and sighed. “William Covington.”

The woman scanned her sheet, then stopped. “Your assignment is Maintenance. Report to Danielle Harrison at their offices. Dismissed.”

Willie have a cheeky salute, and went off, not exactly in a rush. He knew it would be Maintenance this time. They had warned him another infraction would land him down there. Pity, he’s had fun in the Agriculture sector last time, but given the hijinks he and Reggie got into, he’s not surprised they were unwilling to take him back again.

His guardian Caleb had told him this would be his last chance. There were too many blemishes on his record, too many infractions. He wouldn't be able to save him on the next one, and he would face imprisonment, or worse, banishment.

Willie didn't understand how skateboarding or tagging a few buildings would warrant that, but there was a lot he didn't get about this society. It made him miss home, where he had been free to do as he pleased. But he had aged out of the group home, and Caleb had found him, so this is where he was now. A cog in the wheel, no matter how much he still felt like a square peg.

Maintenance was alright, Mrs. Harrison was pretty chill as long as the work got done. He was paired with two guys his own age; Luke who was chatty and open. Told Willie straight out that he was there for playing non council approved songs and performing without a permit-both bullshit charges according to him, but he didn't mind keeping the city clean, it gave him lots of downtime to write songs with.

Alex, the other guy working with them had a dry, cutting wit and a permanent scowl. He didn't say why he was there-he didn't say much of anything really unless it was sarcasm. Plus he barely looked at Willie, which made working together slightly awkward, but hey, it was two weeks, Willie had suffered longer terse silences.

But still, he had always been curious, so when he and Luke sat down to share the county provided meal, he asked what Alex's deal was while the blonde was getting his own food. Luke hummed and avoided Willie's eyes. "Not my story to tell. Let's just say his parents thought it would straighten him out."

Willie looked over at Alex, and finally met his eyes, a cornflower blue that stood out in their grey surroundings. Willie offered a smile, and Alex turned away, but the tips of his ears were pink, and suddenly, Willie had a mission; to make Alex smile.

He tried every day, with a stupid joke, or a small gesture. He got a few wry grins, and several blushes. Even a muttered thanks. But no real, genuine smiles.

Of course, then they got a new assignment; paint over some illegal art.

Willie's illegal art.

Willie could only grimace, he had spent a lot of time on this piece, and he was loathe to see it reduced to plain grey concrete once more. Luke was home sick that day too, so it was just him and Alex, staring up at the stylized art covering the side of the building.

"Aw, I love this one," Alex said as he prepared the supplies. "Sucks that we have to cover it."

"Tell me about it, though a part of me is digging the irony," Willie replied. Alex shot him a questioning glance, and Willie gestured to the wall. "This is why I ended up here. Glad to know that at least one person appreciated it, even if the council didn't."

"You painted this?" Alex asked, and Willie nodded. "This is why I'm here too."

"What?"

Alex gestured to the art, a depiction of two men engaged in an amorous embrace. "Because that's who I am. My parents... they don't exactly approve. So they sent me here, hoping that real, honest work would make me magically like girls. Said the lowly jobs were reserved for criminals and sinners."

"Your parents suck."

"Tell me about it," Alex replied. "As soon as I'm of age-I'm out of here. I'll go somewhere else. Somewhere I can be with whoever I want without the threat of being disowned, or arrested or banished."

"Why wait?"

"What?"

"Why wait?" Willie repeated. "Let's just go. Find someplace that doesn't judge us for who we love."

"B-but... we have lives here. We'll be hunted if we leave now!" Alex protested.

"We'll be judged and hunted afterwards too if we do it the 'right' way," Willie replied. "I've never been one for sticking to the rules."

Alex's breath started to catch, and Willie came over, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, everything will be alright. You say the word and this conversation never happened. We go back to painting, and ignore what was said."

"I... I don't want to pretend anymore," Alex said in a small voice. "I'm so sick of pretending, of hiding. Or averting my eyes every time I think a guy is cute." He looked up and caught Willie's eye, offering a tiny, but genuine smile.

"Yeah? Me too," Willie confessed. He held out a hand, and Alex took it, the warmth spreading through them like wildfire. "So what do you wanna do?"

Alex looked at Willie, at the mural, at the buckets of grey paint mocking them. "Let's go," he said divisively. "Right now."

"Okay," Willie replied with a giggle. Pulling him away from the still standing artwork, away from the centre of the town. Past the farms where he left a message with Reggie for Caleb and Luke. Past the fields, to the hole in the fence that he had found that lead behind the city limits.

Their literal gateway to freedom.

"You ready?" Willie asked as Alex looked backwards, even though his home was a mere speck on the horizon.

"No, but I don't think I ever will be. So might as well go anyways." Alex squeezed his hand, offering Willie another smile and with that, the two of them went through the hole, and into the world, hand in hand.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 06 SANSA I (pages 75-90)

Sansa is invited to lunch with Margaery, Olenna, and the cast of Tyrells cut from the show.

The reader is grumpy the entire time. :(

-

Joffrey had met his new bride-to-be at the King's Gate to welcome her to the city, and they rode side by side through cheering crowds, Joff glittering in gilded armor and the Tyrell girl splendid in green with a cloak of autumn flowers blowing from her shoulders. (...) The people called out her name as she passed, held up their children for her blessing, and scattered flowers under the hooves of her horse. Her mother and grandmother followed close behind, (...) The small folk cheered for them too.

And ain't this a stark difference between the procession after seeing Myrcella off.

I appreciate the mention that Joffrey's armor is gilded, just for the symbolism of it. To be gilded is to be covered in a thin layer of precious metal, to look more valuable than it is. Joffrey's the same way. A gilded prince, shiny and noble on the outside, but a dime-a-dozen rotting on the inside.

The same smallfolk who pulled me from my horse and would have killed me, if not for the Hound. Sansa had done nothing to make the commons hate her, no more than Margaery Tyrell had done to win their love.

Mmmm, but it's all about the narrative. Sansa was by Joffrey's side when the people were starving, it didn't matter that she was a hostage, that she was being beaten and abused, she was a noble and had their privilege to food. Margaery is with the people who are finally giving them food, doesn't matter that she was married to Renly, or that the alliance resulting from that was responsible for the food shortage to begin with. (ignoring in city food storage prep, which would have taken a hit anyway.) Personal circumstance of nobles doesn't matter to the smallfolk, only the current visible result. Same's true of most folks though.

No one can save me but my Florian. Ser Dontos had promised he would help her escape, but not until the night of Joffrey's wedding. The plans had been well laid, her dear devoted knight-turned-fool assured her; there was nothing to do until then but endure, and count the days.

That's... concerning.

I like that Sansa is being suspicious of Margaery's motives, but for her to turn around and think this... it's concerning. Perhaps mostly because we know Dontos is a creepy pervert who probably shouldn't be trusted (even if his escape plan is solid and successful), but also because Sansa's hinging everything on his plan. everything. she's no longer thinking about ways to escape, she's not looking for opportunities, she's not emotionally or mentally prepared for this plan to fall through, which it thankfully doesn't. She's not asking questions.

Dontos is no Florian, he's a predator, but Sansa can't see that because he's more overtly bumbling and clumsy about it than everyone else, he doesn't have the same dangerous sleekness that the others at court have, she's looking so hard for the hidden pit traps she's missed the obvious.

But this was the Red Keep, (...) and if there was one thing Sansa Stark had learned here, it was mistrust.

The irony is hurting me.

...Am I being a little overtly mean tonight? I think I might be. I've had a frustrating day.

For a moment she did not know what to say. "Ser Loras," she finally managed, "you... you look so lovely." ... Sansa was finding it hard to walk and talk and think all at the same time, with Ser Loras touching her arm. ... Desperately, she tried to think of something clever and charming to say to him, but her wits deserted her. She almost told him how beautiful he was, until she remembered she'd already done that.

Oh no. Brain melting crush, blue screen of brain fail. Have you tried turning it off and back on again? Oh I joke, because this would be so cute in a another setting, but this one? DANGEROUS. Sansa's wits have been keeping her safe where her value as a hostage hasn't but even those two combined couldn't protect her from everything all of the time. Please, GRRM, stahp! My girl is playing on Ultra Hard Mode, she doesn't need the Debuff. (Don't yell, everyone main is doing Hard Mode, but Sansa's doing a Politics Only run.)

Although it's a little funny, ngl, that while "oh, Ser Loras Most Handsome Pretty Man" narrative is a thing here, "You looke dapper today" is also kinda Sansa's default for getting to know you's with her guards.

He doesn't remember, Sansa realized, startled. He is only being kind to me, he doesn't remember me or the rose or any of it. She had been so certain that it meant something, that it meant everything. A red rose, not a white.

She did well picking that up, and the tension that followed, unfortunately, she just doesn't have the context to realize why Loras was pissed. (Margaery lost her direct route to the throne, but Loras lost his partner, and he can never tell people that. No one outside a few members of his family will ever know what he lost. Not just a king, or a brother(-in-law) but his lover.)

... I am about to say something... Very Mean.

I know that Olenna was something of a fan favourite from the show, because she was... "sassy" and "witty" and had a "take no bullshit/tell it like it is" attitude. But here's something I've noticed when it comes to men writing "sassy" women.

The sliding scale of Witty to Bitchy? well that all depends on how much a threat a woman is to men in power, or how fuckable she is to the same men. It is a very fine line between snarky girl-boss and naggy bitch, and far too many people confuse one for the other.

Olenna tends to feel to me, like an overbearing and overly dismissive woman, who is just mean, but rich and old enough to get away with it because she's just an old granny. Tyrion does the same thing, he's mean, but I let him get away with it because he tends to use the "privilege to get away with it" to slap Joffrey. Doesn't mean he's not mean.

Maybe I'd take Olenna better if her target(s) were people I can prepared to dislike, and not just random women I've only just been introduced to.

Or this could very specifically be about my own grandmother who was allowed to get away with talking really uncomfortable (and more than occasionally racist) shit because she was an old widow and who I am now estranged with because she told my parents she'd call the cops on me if she had to, to prove I committed crime I literally didn't do. Like Oh? I stole things I didn't even know existed? You have fingerprints to prove it? My fingerprints are on your stuff because I definitely stole these things I didn't know existed and not because I handled most of your stuff when I helped you move in!? You don't even know for sure they're my fingerprints Nan!

Anyway! Moving on! (I like Olenna more in theory than in person, I think.)

"Sansa," Lady Alerie broke in, "you must be very hungry. Shall we have a bite of boar together, and some lemon cakes?" "Lemon cakes are my favorite," Sansa admitted.

Lemon = 🍷🍷

"I'm not fond of leeks. Take this broth away, and bring me some cheese." "The cheese will be served after the cakes, my lady." "The cheese will be served when I want it served, and I want it served now." The old woman turned back to Sansa. "Are you frightened, child? No need for that, we're only women here. Tell me the truth, no harm will come to you."

I'm going to be honest, I don't know if it's my distaste for Olenna, but that felt like a power play. A very pointed power play. Olenna is sitting there, asking Sansa to commit treason essentially, and when Sansa takes too long to break and tries to hold to her protective lies, "I get what I want, when I want it."

I get that the "tell me the truth, no harm will come to you." is supposed to sound comforting, but is sounds like a threat at the same time, and I genuinely don't know if it is or if I'm just not in a fair headspace for this chapter's political maneuvering.

... I will admit having Butterbumps sing loudly to cover the noise was a good idea, but it also draws attention in the mind that what Sansa is about to say is technically treason. Makes it feel more deliberate in choice than the show, where it felt like Sansa breaking from loneliness and reaching out to friends by sharing the danger. (sorta kinda not really but it's hard to explain the difference in the vibes otherwise.)

"- Do you hawk, Sansa?" "A little," she admitted.

?! So talented. I don't think I knew that about Sansa. (that she hawks in any amount, not that she's talented, we already knew she was talented at things.)

"To see you safely wed, child," the old woman said (...) "to my grandson." Wed to Ser Loras, oh... Sansa's breath caught in her throat.

She didn't say Loras.

... I suppose I should appreciate the timing of the song lyrics, matching the vibes of Sansa's day. happy and defiant as Sansa thinks she's being given freedom and a happily ever after, and then as she has the rug pulled and the truth revealed closing around her like a trap we get lines like "I called for a knight, but you're a bear!" and "she kicked and wailed, the maid so fair, but he licked the honey from her hair."

Oh holy shit, this chapter was a song fic. XD

hang on... how old is Willas exactly? *flips to appendix* "WILLAS, their eldest son, heir to Highgarden." hmmm "MARGAERY, their daughter, a widow of fifteen years, -" hhhmmmm *pulls up the wiki* Willas Tyrell: Born 273-276 Margaery Tyrell: Born 283 So seven to ten years older makes him... 22-25 years old. They want her to marry a man who is, at best, currently twice Sansa's age. Sansa is currently twelve.

"I thought that dreadful song would never end," said the Queen of Thorns. "But look, here comes my cheese."

The cheese was a metaphor and a power play for Sansa's secrets. Olenna got what she demanded in the end after all.

I went so hard on Olenna I'm almost tempted to tag this post as Olenna Hate.

[evilliousunderground]

Why Arth was made a doll? (theory)

Almost seven years ago, mothy made one of his most controversial actions in relation to his story: making Arth Lucifen d'Autriche, the father of "Daughter of Evil"... mud golem, and already retroactively - before the song "That King was Born from Mud", there's no mention of this in the Daughter of Evil long novels. Fandom is probably still wondering why mothy did it, and asking related questions, such as whether Art is the biological father of the d'Autriches twins. Personally, I won't answer that question (or rather, I will, but later), but why Arth was made a doll... I may have an interesting theory for which I've done some sort of understudy.

But first, let's take a temporary break from Arth and dip into the deep antiquity - "Original Sin Story", namely one of its most famous songs, "Moonlit Bear", but in this case we need not the plot, but the title: because the "bear" turns out to be Meta Salmhofer, who shall we say not very much looks like a bear, and incidentally there is irony in this: after all, Meta's last name has the word "Salm", which in German translates to "Salmon", a favourite bears' food. Yes, Eve thought of Meta as a bear because of a childhood trauma, but don't you think that having the ONLY fact that makes sense to call this song that way somehow multiplies by zero?

- What's Meta got to do with it? The post is about Arth!.. - you tell me. And you may be right: Arth and Meta had... nothing in common. Until the original "Original Sin Story: Punishment" where Meta's ghost was punished for revealing memories with the presence of Seth by turning into clay.

Meta is known to be the mother of the Irregulars, Hänsel and Gretel. The father of the Irregulars, but already d'Autriches, is Arth. One became clay, the other was reborn from mud. Would you think that's it? Oddly enough, no. Arth's coolness and name are allusions to King Arthur, and one of the origins of the name is thought to be from the word... "bear" from one language or another. Now that's interesting, isn't it?

And if this theory is true, then it is understandable why the mud doll was able to conceive for his wife: he was made from the very same mud that was the mother of the Irregulars half a millennium ago. This is how the witch of Apocalypse and the king of Lucifenia are suddenly connected: they literally have the same body, made of the same material.

There is other question: What does the bear have to do with it? Well, I can't say anything about that. There's another "bear" character: Banika's servant Eater Sabella. How he's connected to Meta, and, if my theory was true, Arth is a sort of mystery...

[graciliss]

an answer to the OC questions asked by @jayzeroey 🫶🫶

9: favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?

Seraphina is a real gourmand and thus the type of person to scoff down whatever food is nearby no matter how trashy it may look. this is somewhat reflective on the fact that she has a severe problem with overindulgence. since she grew up pretty much broke and living on scraps, she often seeks out foods that are exotic and oftentimes very, very expensive, even if just to try and be able to brag about having tried it. her desire to catch new thrills and to experience something novel makes her very open to trying new and weird things (often to a fault).

this doesn't mean she exclusively eats luxury or exotic things, though. in the end of the day she knows what she likes to a tee because of having tried the amount of things she has. Seraphina doesn't have a set favourite, but she notably enjoys foods that are very rich and/or very sweet. her sweet tooth cannot be understated.

there aren't many foods that she particularly hates since she'll eat just about anything. she does have a select few which she likes a bit less than others, though. while she loves buttercream she has a more notable distaste for fondant, and especially marzipan. it's mainly little things, really.

Seamus on the other hand is significantly less self-indulgent with his eating habits. in his eyes, eating is just another need and he listens to his body accordingly.

he doesn't vocalise it due to the way he processes things such as distress but he definitely has an aversion to a whole slew of textures in foods, which given the choice makes him a lot pickier. he strongly dislikes things such as dried fruits, luncheon meats, porridge, etc... he has a main aversion to foods that are either mushy or chewy. unfortunately he is somewhat deranged because he will actively force himself into eating foods he knows he is averse to regardless (and be in agony while doing so). he won't show that he hates it, but subtle things such as a close to electric tension in his hands give it away.

oftentimes he subconsciously turns to nostalgia (and consciously turns to familiarity). his favourite dinners usually are things that his eldest sister used to make, which are meals that primarily contained vegetables, meat scraps, and to literally nobody's surprise: potatoes. he doesn't like trying new foods very much and will avoid it given the chance.

34: how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

Seraphina's meticulously and purposefully inflated ego permeates through everything. unsurprisingly, she hyperbolically praises herself when speaking of herself. oftentimes descriptions of herself will go along the lines of "the hottest woman alive" or "god on earth, duh".

she also has a keenness for comparing herself to angels, which is largely tongue in cheek. in part this is due to the name she currently goes by, and the fact that her albinism renders her skin and hair close to white. it heavily plays into the irony of her being an entity more comparable to demons, but also because she sees 'hell', the afterlife she resides in more as heaven if anything since despite her morally bankrupt character she now lives more freely - and dare I say happily - than she ever did when she was alive.

getting Seamus to as much as fully acknowledge himself - moreso his body as his own - is a struggle. describing his own personality also comes to him with great difficulty because of similar issues in perceiving himself. as a result, when it comes to describing himself more generally, Seamus is heavily reliant on what other people say and think about him.

without the consultation of others he uses broad, vague terms and most often isn't kind to himself. the most frequently reoccurring descriptors are things such as "a bad omen", "a presence" or "a stain". these things which he says about himself are not said as a means of self-loathing per say. he sees these descriptions more as something about himself which he has accepted as simple reality.

the way in which he dehumanises himself when describing himself is also apparent, and this inability to consider himself "human" like other people stems from a sense of deep isolation and an inability to relate to others properly.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTIONS JOEY 🫶

seraphina shaw and seamus wrynn both belong to me (@graciliss)

[mrsleestranger]

CLAMP SCHOOL DETECTIVES NOVEL VOLUME 2 (Ep 9,10 Chap 1).

9.

"How are things going lately? Mr. Detective...

Rijichou asked Nokoru while serving tea cakes.

It was a kneaded sweet in the shape of autumn leaves.

"This is Momijiyama sweet from Harayama shop. It's my favorite food." Nokoru talked about sweets before answering the question.

"That's right. I still can't get it unless I go the shop early in the morning."

"Is that so. The shop owner is a discerning craftsman who does not accept reservations, isn't he?

"Yeah, he said something like 'true customers are the ones who go out of their way to visit the store'... But he's not a craftsman, he's just a stubborn old man. Oh no..." Rijichou quickly covered her mouth with a folding fan, as if she had said too much.

However, Nokoru was also well aware that it was rather an affectionate "bad words." Judging from the flow of conversation, it seemed that Rijichou and the owner of the confectionery shop Harayama were old friends.

Perhaps afraid that Nokoru would come up with something, Rijichou returned to the original topic.

"I haven't heard about the detective's activity recently."

Nokoru took out a kaishi from his pocket and picked up a candy, then said, "Yes, I don't want any women to get into trouble."

(Kaishi: tissue used during Japanese tea ceremony as a plate for sweets and for wiping fingers.)

He smiled.

"Oh, that's right. Hohohohoho......"

Rijichou also put a folding fan to her mouth and laughed.

“It is rather a matter of joy that we as detectives are free.”

"That is true."

Rijichou ended her conversation and began making tea.

After moving the tea whisk a few times, she seemed to remember something, and suddenly stopped her hand and said,

"Speaking of which--"

She muttered.

"Yes?"

Nokoru also stopped eating sweets.

"Ah, no, please continue to eat."

(She would talk after the tea had been made.)

Nokoru judged so and ate his sweets.

After a while, Rijichou carefully put down the tea whisk, picked up the tea bowl, and turned to face Nokoru.

And after serving the tea according to the etiquette, she began the conversation,

“There was a lot of trouble at the school festival, so I forgot to say it.”

"Yes?"

“Several talented returnee students entered the school this autumn, just like every year.”

At CLAMP School, students who had returned from abroad are admitted every September. It seemed that returnees who couldn't get along well at ordinary public schools could enjoy learning at CLAMP School.

Rumors spread around the world, and the number of applicants who wanted to transfer to CLAMP School when they returned to Japan was increasing year by year.

"Is that so? I'm looking forward to it."

Saying that, Nokoru gulped down the matcha.

10.

Under the usual wisteria trellis, Utako and Nagisa were eating their lunch boxes.

"It's nice to have lunch outside like this."

Utako looked up at the deep blue sky.

Nagisa followed her and looked up at the sky, saying, "It's true......"

She replied with few words.

"Perfect weather for excursions"

Utako's tone was loaded with irony.

"Yes..."

Nagisa sensed that and smiled wryly.

As usual, both Suoh and Akira were preoccupied with the affairs of the student council, unable to spend time with them.

"Those two really aren't the gentlemen, are they?"

Knowing that Utako didn't mean what she said from the bottom of her heart, Nagisa was at a loss for an answer.

"Hey, do you know, Nagisa-san? About Yudaiji Idomu-sama, who has just transferred to us recently.”

"Yeah, yeah... His name is..."

Yudaiji Idomu was one of the returnee students who transferred to CLAMP School's 6th grade this autumn.

With his handsome face and gentle personality, he immediately attracted the attention of female students.

He was the heir of the Yudaiji zaibatsu, one of Japan's leading conglomerates, and had oustanding grades.

Perhaps because of his reserved personality, he didn't stand out as much as Nokoru and the others, but shrewd fangirls were keeping a close eye on him.

"Look, look. He's wandering."

"Oh my, he is a wonderful person, as rumored."

"But he's extremely shy, and if he's surrounded by girls, he'll run away."

"Waa... So cute~"

Such conversations unfolded whenever you went.

"What are your hobbies?"

"What is your birthday?"

"What is your blood type?"

"What kind of girl do you like?"

The interest of girls was endless.

However, Idomu was living a school life at his own pace.

After Utako gave Nagisa such information about Idomu for a moment, she complained.

"Well, it's true that Yudaiji-sama is wonderful, but as some older sisters say, there's no one as going above the three members of the elementary school student council."

"Especially Ijyuin-sama, right?"

Nagisa unusually smiled as if teasing Utako.

"Oh, even Nagisa thinks of Takamura-sama."

Utako was not far behind either.

"Oh...I don't mean..."

Nagisa hold her cheek that was suddenly hot.

"Even so......"

Utako sighed.

"Even though we're giving them all of our thought, those two are only thinking about the student council... They don't even make time for us..."

Utako pouted cutely again.

"Yes..."

Even Nagisa seems dissatisfied.

"In my life, I have never done anything so convenient for the other."

"Oh..."

That might be the case with Utako.

And Utako's complaints continued.

"They are sure slow and too assured about us. Don't they know that we will start a rebellion if they don't hold us back?"

(I don't think so...)

Nagisa thought so in her heart, but she certainly felt lonely that she couldn't see Suoh these days. It seemed that Utako always spoke for Nagisa's feelings, and she is a stress reliever for Nagisa as well.

"It's not just Yudaiji-sama, there are many wonderful gentlemen among the students who have been transferred this time, so let's go check it out next time."

Nagisa knew that was not her true intention either.

However, Utako seemed to feel refreshed when she said only what she wanted to say, and she quickly returned to her usual tone.

"Come on, Nagisa-san. Would you like to have anmitsu after dinner at Kasugano restaurant?"

(Anmitsu is a Japanese dessert)

Nagisa is also relieved and nods, "Yeah."

Utako immediately folded her arms and corrected her.

"Ah. Instead of anmitsu, I'm going to have a 'Kasugano full set' today."

It is a gorgeous set of onigiri, shimen, oden, and anmitsu.

"Huh?!?!?! You have just eaten lunch, can you still eat that much?!?!" Nagisa widened her eyes.

"That's right! What are you going to do, Nagisa-san?"

After thinking for a moment, then Nagisa said, blushing her cheeks.

"Wow, I will have the same thing..."

[tar-thelien]

Chapter 12, aka the calm before the storm before the calm😙

Summary:

Maedhros begins on physical therepy but first him and Celegorm has to wait on Fingon

Words: 2580

Maedhros´ POV

The thought kept hovering over his head, how easy it would be to pick in one of the healing wounds to stay here just a bit longer, yet he consistently restrained himself upon thinking about the consequences of damaging one of the possessions of the master. The appeal was therefore quickly overshadowed by the fear of incurring the master's wrath for any harm done to his possessions every time he thought of it.

The white haired hunter, probably one of the Appainu, was back once more, this time in the company of a massive Hound that bore a striking resemblance to the hounds owned by the master. It appeared to be a deliberate gesture, possibly a present for the hunter, made to mimic his brother's hound as a form of mockery.

Hrávandil - the master called him, spoke then, “Maedhros-”

Maedhros, that new name again, he had almost forgotten it. The master had permitted him to keep his own names, albeit for reasons far from benevolent as he learned. The new name was probably some kind of introduction to this new role, like how you would rename a pet you found or rename a pet whose name you didn´t like to start with.

“Maedhros,” Hrávandil spoke again, “I am called Celegorm,” the hunter said from where he was sitting at the little table looking over plants to aid Maitimo´s healing. Or after his words, ´do the healer´s works because they clearly know nothing´. The master had told him that the hunter possessed larger knowledge of the local flora compared to the healers of the master, saying that the hunter could create more effective ointments for Maitimo. Suppressing the urge to laugh, he pondered the irony; if the master truly prioritized Maitimo's healing, he would attend to it personally rather than tasking a servant with the responsibility.

"Ambarussa are expected to arrive shortly," Hrávandil mentioned, "I asked them to come as Atarháno for some reason doesn´t want to see Kana, Moryo, OR Curu, can you believe it?” after having spoken, Hrávandil casually reached for an apple, slicing it into neat pieces while conversing, "it may take a few days for their arrival; hopefully, you will have recovered enough to walk by then. By the way, have I shared with you the reason behind Findecáno's absence?"

Maitimo gently shook his head in a contemplative manner, pondering the situation at hand. It occurred to him that one of the most likely scenarios could be that the hunter in front of him had displayed admirable qualities deserving of a reward, with Maitimo himself being considered as that reward. The master had said he would see him again later in the evening, meaning the hunter had likely been given time for the use of Maitimo.

“Findecáno is talking with a healer who looked at your legs they rebroke-” oh, he did not like where this was going, “-because he had made you stand or whatever, and the healer said that it would be fine if you began training your muscles, but Findecáno is dumb like that, and just wanted you to begin doing normal things, so right now, right, you with me? Right now, he´s making a plan with some of the healers for you to regain your strength, and also a new diet. You know, so you don´t get fed something too heavy, or too much at once so you get sick.”

Maitimo did understand that. He had sufficiently recovered to commence his training. Despite his belief that he was already proficient in understanding a hound´s behavior and he had received training in kneeling, begging, and much more. But it was not his place to question the need for further training. While he grasped the aspect of food provisions, he felt a tinge of sadness as he realized he no longer required the unwarranted pampering he had been shown the last days. He anticipated being fed less frequently but hoped that exceptional performance might earn him extra treats, much like how wolves received pieces of meat for approaching the master with demand for pets. As long as the master was in a good mood. And sometimes both the hounds and wolves got table scraps too.

His only wish was to evade being forced to consume raw meat once more. Previous attempts had been made, resulting in some successful consumption on his part. However, a particularly distressing memory lingered in his mind - the time when his master had endeavored to feed him solely raw meat for an extended period. This endeavor had taken a toll on his health, rendering him severely ill and unable to keep any sustenance down. Fortunately, amidst these fears, he found solace in the knowledge that he would at least not be subjected to the unsettling prospect of consuming Eldar or Avari meat. The master, in a moment of compassion following an incident where he had been fed but not been able to keep it down, even without having been told what it was, had tenderly reassured him. After having punished him for not keeping his food down, for the mess and the mess, the master apologized as he slowly petted Maitimo´s head as he lay crying in the master´s bed.

“Finno tells you don´t have that many nightmares anymore Russ,” the hunter said after having finished half the apple, "which is a good growth," he then proceeded to offer a piece of the apple to the dog and continued, "It's great to hear that, Russ. Would you like to have some of this apple as well?"

read the rest on AO3