#to take advantage of people that may or may not be in rough spots themselves financially

[kitanas-lastkiss]

This is a longshot, would you be willing to help me get my insulin? I'm down to my last pen and its pretty much close to being empty.Nt asking for much only need $370 rn to save my blood sugar. please help me with a small donation or share any help can save my life.Please help & Blessings ❤Thanks.

maybe they could help you out :3 /sarcasm

[howtofightwrite]

Sorry if this is an odd question but my intro to this blog was a post about invisibility and how it affects combat. This query is also a bit wordy too.

Say there's this super-powered person whose ability is that you forget them after breaking sight of them and only remember the person along with the instances of meeting them after seeing the person again.

- There's a brief period where a person still retains their memory for 6 seconds before the amnesia hits.

- By contrast, the process of remembering them is immediate.

- Looking at them in photographs, video footage, and reflections follow the same rules.

- Obscuring themselves like wearing masks or something also doesn't affect how it works. They cannot turn the ability off.

How difficult would it be to fight against something like that?

My first thought is the Arcane background from Mage: The Ascension. Though, in the case of Arcane, it also tended to wipe out physical records of the Mage in question. At low levels, other characters would remember the mage existed, but details would become fuzzy, and records of the Mage's existence, would become harder to track down. An example was that if your character had a pink mohawk, witnesses would be able to say, “oh, yeah, it was that guy with the hair,” but wouldn't be able to remember anything more specific than that. Photos, school or work records, would go missing. With a high enough Arcane score, video cameras would fail to reveal the Mage, you couldn't take their finger prints, because the cards would go missing almost as soon as you took your eyes off them.

Arcane was an extremely powerful utility option for a mage, but it didn't have a lot of combat applications. And, that's kind of what you've set up here. At high enough levels (well beyond what normal mages would ever reach), it would even become a significant advantage for stealth, as people wouldn't even notice the mage was present, and then proceed to hit them with their cars. That last part isn't, really, a joke, as that was a downside for characters with a staggering number of points in the background, and by that point they'd lost the ability to voluntarily turn off the ability. Normally characters would cap out at 5 dots for their backgrounds, the 6 to 10 dots are extremely potent, but actually create a kind of horrific situation where the mage is progressively less able participate in the world.

So, some weird quirks with your version. It wouldn't directly affect combat, but it would make it a lot easier for the character to break and escape from combat. However, the instant recollection means that if your character was spotted, even momentarily, after they escaped, then their enemies would immediately set off an alarm, and might even jump straight to shooting at them, while they tried to escape.

The amnesia (especially if firearms are involved) would likely create a bit of confusion in the moment that would make escaping even harder. Their foes wouldn't know what they were looking for, but they also wouldn't be worried about advancing on the position they were just firing on. While that's exploitable, that's also extremely dangerous for your character.

If the scope of the power was fully understood, an antagonist, with henchmen armed with HUD systems, could just flash a small image of your character onto their HUD every four or five seconds to, “refresh,” their memory, and effectively negate it.

With the perspective of having known multiple individuals who have issues with impaired object permanence, your character is going to have an extremely lonely life. They can't be in a relationship with someone, because, literally, six seconds after they walk out the door, their romantic interest will kick their mental status back over to single. Again, speaking from personal experience, that's fucking rough.

They may have more casual friends, but it's going to be a case where they literally only matter to someone while they're in the room. Which, again, that's a pretty demoralizing way to live your life.

Worse, your character probably can't hold down a job, meaning they're going to be in a rough situation financially. I mean, it's pretty hard to land a job if the recruiter forgets you exist 6 seconds after you walk out the door, and even if you land the position, it's going to be pretty hard to get on the schedule if your manager has 6 seconds to put you down for a shift, before they forget about you completely.

Ultimately, yeah, this wouldn't help that much in a fight, you're unlikely for the ability to function during combat. It might help escape from pursuers. But the psychological costs would be astronomical. So, you know, it's a good idea to play with, but this is more of a utility power than a combat focused one. And the implications of it are absolutely soul crushing.

-Starke

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[zappedbyzabka]

Johnny seems like a guy with very sensitive skin, where do you think the characters would interact with him the most?

From the top of his golden head to the bottoms of his feet to his soul, that boy is sensitive. Bruises like the sweetest peach and gets so flushed from even the lightest slap—of course everyone is tempted to make him whimper and want to leave their own mark on him, even if that means kicking his (juicy) ass or attacking his neck.

His skin is crazy sensitive, and his whole roster knows it and takes advantage.

It’s not their fault that he’s so fun to play with, chews on his lip like he wants it off his face when they’re just kissing his ticklish inner wrists, and gets all sweet and sighful when they cup his face and kiss that then swollen lip. Let their tongue peek out and swipe it to make him flinch from the sting and pleasure. How can they not continue to tease him?

It’s hard to keep it pg in public, the best they can do is pg-13.

They’ll grab his waist in grocery isles (corset petite or plump with adorable love handles just as grippable under it) and dig their fingers in while grazing their teeth along his pretty throat to get him shivering and knock-kneed where anyone could see. It’s just too easy! And very pleasurable for them in a different way. The way his piteous noises get caught in his throat as he tries to keep his composure, clinging to them all warm because they made him blush cherry to his chest, really gets them going.

And oh, his chest can take a lot, which is one of the spots to go for if you want to get him arching and panting like he’s run a marathon rather than getting his tits played with. Begging for mercy because how is he going to wear a shirt at all when he’s so sore?

There’s no light breeze or chill that won’t get his cute little nipples perking up hard as pebbles on a beach like they need a hot mouth to come rescue them from the “cold”. He’s been told to “go get a bra” by people who find themselves funny or think he actually looks indecent, but his roster does not agree—they quite like seeing those stiff buds trying to escape from his shirt, and you best believe they can’t stop themselves from sneaking in little tweaks and tugs no matter the location, pressing their nails into them.

When they’re in private, they go insane. Chewing and suckling, leaving the same marks they leave everywhere else but tenfold on those perfect lil titties.

Just like they do with his silky thighs. He begins to tremble when the inners of them are tended to, his stomach tenses and he can’t stop gasping, his legs trying to close together without his permission to the point that they have to forcefully keep them spread (which makes him moan because he loves when they get rough with him.) Though honestly, they don’t mind the feeling of his thighs clamping around their ears like muffs when it's between legs for different reasons.

Just like they do with his other magic spot(s), they mark his ass cheeks UP. Tenderized probably more than any other part of him with the way it gets smacked all goddamn day (cough-by hips and hands), and there are at least three bright red hand prints overlapping each other on each mound by the end of the day which may or may not be from more than one person.

Even his ankles are sensitive, and get his toes wiggling when they’re caressed with a thumb casually (and tbh when he rests his feet in someone’s lap, he’s asking for it.)

As far as who would interact with what more: Dutch is all about the neck and moobs. Jimmy is an ass man. Tommy goes for the thighs and wrists. Bobby honestly can’t choose a favorite when he’s been heart eyes for that man since high school and is just happy to touch him. And call Daniel basic but he’s all about the ass and tits too, also likes smacking tf out of him because it gets Johnny all ditzy and needy for more. I might think differently later tho.

(as for the part of the roster I talk of less: Chozen somehow reads Johnny’s mind and tries to go for what he thinks will work him up most in that moment, but the tits are honestly what he found himself staring at besides his face when they dirst met. Mike? All over—he WILL be making that man scream, will gnaw on him like he’s red meat, and probably scratch him up. Putting Eddie/Freddy in the same spot because I see these shortly seen Tkk characters as an unlikely team Johnny would re-meet at a school reunion only to get creamed in the bathroom. As in: waist and tits due to his frequent shirtlessness back then (probably slap him in the mouth too for all the bitchy things they remember him saying. That’s not even accounting for all of the potential suitors like Sensei Kim and others.)

[werspinna]

IN-DEPTH Quiz: Lion, Badger, Bird and Snake !

The basic structure of the @sortinghatchats system is that you aren’t just sorted into one House, but into two tiers of Houses: Primary and Secondary. Your Primary House defines WHY you do things: your reasons, motivations, and drive. Your Secondary defines HOW: your methods, actions, and behaviors. Neither Primary or Secondary is more important or more "you." They're just two aspects of you-- your WHY and your HOW.

Tagged By: Walter von der Vogelweide ! Tagging:  @hidefire @alchemaxed @iobartach @goblinfire @neonwebs @wovendeath @sickthem @voltedblood @spinxeret @inhcritance @books-and-right-hooks @kylo-wrecked @canoncompliance @attercopus @sleeperkeeper @bewitchingbaker @betterbutbitter @svperboi @itsybitsypeterparker @the-rogue-dragon @carnivorousfatality !

BADGER PRIMARY: LOYALIST - FELT - EXTERNAL Badger primaries care about fairness and loyalty. They stick by things. They step up even (or especially) when things are hard and when they don't want to. They don't prioritize ideals or people just because they like them better or because a shiny ideal makes them feel nice. It's not about feeling good, it's about trying your best.

If a Badger values people, then they value all people and they try to do it equally. They value community. Many Badgers bond to groups (rather than solely individuals). They value fairness because no person is more worthwhile than any other, no matter if the Badger likes some people better than others. They feel best when they give everyone that fair chance. Even directly wronged, a Badger will often give someone a second (or fifth) chance.

They often dislike confrontation, valuing stability, camaraderie, and peace. They might not always speak up or rock the boat, but they'll show up, they'll act, and they'll stand by the people who need it.

SNAKE SECONDARY: IMPROVISATIONAL - CONDITIONAL - FLUID A Snake Secondary’s defining constant is to change. They adapt to the situation, going with the flow and making use of advantages as they come. They are good at spotting unexpected opportunities and rapidly shifting their aim and approach in order to snatch up the possibilities in front of them. Sometimes this leads them to appear lucky where they are actually better described as opportunistic.

This maneuverability adds to the Snake reputation for manipulation, cunning, and deceit– but from the Snake’s perspective, those opportunities were there for other people to see, too, and taking advantage of them is neither dishonest nor tricky, but resourceful.

It doesn’t feel deceitful to a Snake to change to fit the needs of their environment: to be kind with this person, forceful with this one, erudite to the next. This adaptability can be applied to manipulation, influence, and power, but a Snake secondary can just as easily focus their efforts on maintaining friendships, making people happy, encouraging positive social change, or streamlining communication.

Most of the time, most Snake secondaries live comfortably in a system of shifting facades and able code-switching, singing a different tune to every situation. But when they are feeling safe, in the company of trusted people, or when they are feeling particularly apathetic and done with the world, Snake secondaries often let all those shifting layers drop— this is the "neutral state." The neutral state is easy to mistake for a Lion secondary because there is a similar sharp-edged, unreserved honesty to it. But the motivation for this honesty is coming from different places.

The neutral state is blunt and often rough, unphased by stepping on people’s toes. For some Snake secondaries, it’s a luxury not to care about stepping on toes— their best tools for their own comfort, success, and joy may involve paying close attention to their circumstances and reacting accordingly in order to manipulate the spaces they inhabit. Other Snake secondaries, less threatened or less protective of themselves, might spend lots of time in their neutral state. But they indulge in that bluntness for pleasure, efficacy, or ease-- being less honest and forthright would feel just as ethical, whereas, to a Lion, any "lying" is inherently negative.

[junowritings]

Howdy do~! I have a little request to ask. I love what you did with Ruggie, Azul, and Deuce reacting to their fem!s/o protecting them in a fight. Could you please do the same scenario with Riddle, Leona and Jamil? Please and thanks!

I'm so happy you liked them~! I've already finished Riddle who can be found here! I hope you enjoy these~!

------

Leona

♡ Leona’s one of those people that you don’t always mess with unless you A. Know what you’re doing, or B. know the exact point when to ease up before things go too far. With that being said it’s really fun to try and get a rise out of him if you’ve got the guts for it; however there’s a big difference between some playfully tricks and being downright malicious - and it’s the people with malicious intentions that definitely need to watch what they say and do when in his presence.

♡ Sure, Leona may be pretty lazy at times (a lot of the time, actually), which has sometimes led to a couple hot-shots underestimating the dorm leader and thinking that it’s a great idea to try and work their way up the pecking order by going through him. More than once he’s had to handle a couple of cocky first years, so overconfident in their abilities that they believe they can pick a fight with him and win. In such cases, he’s swift to nip that in bud and remind them that he’s the head of Savanaclaw for a reason, and uses them to prove as an example to any other people who think it’s a wise idea. This makes it so that altercations are few and far between, so chances are if someone’s gonna have enough of a problem with him to try to fight him, it’s gonna be from another dorm.

♡ The first indication that something’s happening is when some punk has the audacity to shoulder check him in the hallway, making eye contact the whole time as if to flaunt that it was intentional. It’s immature, and frankly he’s feeling generous enough to give them one chance to walk away as he elects to ignore them and keep walking. They don’t like that one bit and Leona hears them grumbling to themselves as they whirl around on their heel and move to stride back over to him again. Their attempt to pull the same trick twice backfires when he grabs their shoulder and shoves it away without even looking, only sparing a glance in their direction to flash an unamused scowl as he warns them to think twice before he loses his patience - not a threat, a promise.

♡ It falls on deaf ears, the “what the fuck is your problem?” they throw at him painfully ironic as they advance on him, squaring their shoulders in an attempt to look intimidating as though hoping he’ll cower. But Leona’s no cub, and certainly no coward, and so he steps up to the challenge, straightening up and rising easily to his full height as he steps forward, glaring down at them as his scowl morphs into a full on snarl. Leona doesn’t even give them the chance to try and land a hit - the second they pull up their fist he bats it away, watching them stumble and try again.

♡ They keep trying, managing to at least nail him in the shoulder before he starts taking the fight seriously. This time the student tries to get a kick in, and no sooner has their boot made contact Leona counters with a kick of his own, hitting them hard enough that they buckle, cussing him out as they grapple for his hair, yanking hard and attempting to bring him down with them. He hisses, baring his teeth and jabbing at the crook of their elbow only getting angrier the longer they hold on. He’s just about done contemplating how he’s gonna end up sending them to the infirmary when someone else finally intervenes, having spotted the confrontation as they rounded the hallway.

♡ Another set of hands dives into the fray, untangling the student’s grip on his hair until they let go long enough for Leona to whip his head back out of their range. Chances are he’d have dived right back into the fight were it not for the fact that someone stepped between them - you, to be specific. You look pissed - at first Leona thinks it's aimed towards him, but then you whirl round, leaning down to yank the student up by the crook of their arm and pulling them with you till they’re far enough away from Leona. At that point you relinquish your grip, giving them a rough shove for good measure; they give you a seething look, but your only response is “Be lucky I’m not letting him finish this fight - Get lost.” as you jab a thumb towards the dorm leader as if to support your argument.

♡ The student huffs, but ultimately storms off pouting like an insolent child not getting their way; the pair of you watch him leave before a groan directs your attention back to Leona. He runs a hand through his hair, massaging the part that was yanked with a dissatisfied grumble. Maybe he’d feel better if he’d gotten a few more punches in, but now that it’s over the ache from where the hand had been is getting on his nerves, but it’s nothing he hasn’t experienced before and is just fine shrugging it off.

♡ You aren't, however; a tentative hand comes to rest over where he’d been touching, hesitant at first till you’re sure that he’s not going to move away from you. Your touch is significantly more gentle, and gone is that miffed look from earlier, now replaced with something a little more fonder. Leona hasn’t been privy to your anger often - exasperation, sure, he’s done plenty to see that side of you, but anger is another thing. Your fingers ghost over a soft spot and his mouth twitches at the discomfort, almost unnoticeable if you weren’t close, and just like that your expression turns stern as you muse out loud that maybe you should’ve let him kick their ass after all, That gains you a toothy grin in response, one that remains on his face even as he guides your hand away from his head and stands back up.

Jamil

♡ Even after the overblot incident Jamil’s still picking up the pieces. Regaining the trust of his dormmates was challenging enough - it took a lot of time of being mindful of his actions and helping others to even start the process of getting them to look at him without being wary of him breaking again. And even then he’s still working to rebuild the faith that they once had in him, as arduous of a road that is, though Kalim’s open forgiveness certainly helped; it’s a long journey that’s going to take longer than just a few weeks, a fact Jamil is acutely aware of.

♡ However there’s still a good number of people who don’t trust him, and he has yet to miss the glares and wary glances casted his way when they believe he’s not looking. He can feel the eyes on his back, tense and hesitant as if waiting for him to trip up and reveal some other nefarious plot; he doesn’t blame them of course - in their position, he’d be equally as cautious, however the unrest still builds, and Jamil knows it’s only a matter of time before someone moves in to bury the proverbial dagger. Until someone actually decides to act there’s little more he can do than carry on and handle that inevitable confrontation once it comes.

♡ It seems he’s not the only one who notices the tension however. After the initial incident you begin visiting Jamil more and more often, going out of your way to spend a little more time together with him. You’re worried about him, that much is obvious, but it comes from a place of affection rather than malice compared to his interaction with others, so Jamil more than welcomes the company. He’s familiar with your protective nature, both because he’s perceptive and because he’s seen it for himself; you value your relationships with others highly, and he knows you’ll do anything to keep those same people protected. Your additional presence seems to ward off some of the seething glares, and helps to alleviate some of the tension Jamil carries around.

♡ But you can’t always be there, and it’s one of those times that you’re not that things end up coming to a head. Jamil expects a confrontation - what he doesn’t expect is for them to try and take him by surprise, taking advantage of a moment where he’s alone. He hears the footsteps running up behind him, and he has just enough time to sidestep to the far side of the corridor before a student goes running past him, tripping over their own feet after being thwarted from their would-be punch. When Jamil looks back to check where the student had come from there’s several others racing to close the distance right alongside their friend, looking equally enraged as they approach. One person Jamil can handle, perhaps two or three; however there’s enough to know he’s outnumbered and Jamil, though he loathes the thought of fleeing, knows a fight he can’t win on his own when he sees one.

♡ Two sets of hands grapple for him but he twists out of their grip with ease, already working to generate some distance between him and the others as he eyes them cautiously. He attempts to gauge if there’s any chance of them giving up now that they don’t have the element of surprise on their side; it's not that easy however, and once they begin attempting to approach again a vicious back and forth begins. They’re hissing threats and other obscenities, which works in his favor since they’re more focused on yelling instead of putting all their effort into catching him. Even so the distance is gradually closing, and with the lack of people around to intervene things aren’t looking up anytime soon.

♡ Right when one of them tries to take another grab however, a loud shout breaks through the voices, and just as suddenly the students are yanked back and away from him. There’s yelling and struggling, and Jamil’s taken aback to find out that the people jumping to his aid are none other than his fellow Scarabia students, who seem just as surprised at what’s going on. Who doesn’t look surprised however is you - you look absolutely miffed as you storm over to one of the apprehended students and shove them back for good measure, using every inch of your willpower to bite back the cusses you so badly want to say once you realize exactly what’s going on.

♡ Jamil’s startled by the turnout, though he gets little more than a word in before you’re talking. “I swear, I leave your side for a minute and some jerks think they can attack you! And how is a whole group against one person fair?! Huh?!” You hurl that question at the group, who flounder under your words with no leg to stand on. Their lack of reasoning or response only fuels your anger, and you take a step towards them as you add, “Even think about doing this again - to anyone - and you’ll answer to me, okay?”

♡ That gets a chorus of anxious nods along with pleads to let them off the hook. You cast a glance behind you at Jamil seeking his verdict; he sighs but gives a nod and the Scarabia students let release their hold on the group and give them a wide enough berth to start retreating. It isn’t until the last ones out of your line of sight that you relax, rubbing your temples with a deep exhale. “Man, just wait until Kalim hears about this.” At that Jamil responds, the protests of informing the excitable dorm head of the event already forming when you turn to ask him if he’s okay.

♡ “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” you look worried as you ask, now turning fully to face him trying to discern any possible injuries as you take a step towards him, close enough to place your hands on his shoulders. At his reassurance that yes, he’s fine, the nervousness doesn’t leave your expression as you let out a sigh. “Good, good. If they’d done anything and I didn’t get here in time I…” you trail off, expression souring at the unpleasant train of thought that seeps in at the very words. Jamil notes your falter and brings a hand to cover one of your own, giving it a reaffirming squeeze trying to wordlessly quell your worries. This time when he repeats that he’s okay you seem convinced, relaxing a little more as you shift your hand just enough for your fingers to interlock.

[downtonabbeyrevisited]

Season Two Episode Three

Conversion of the Abbey into a convalescent home for Officers is underway, ushering in a territorial battle that at times makes what is going on on the other side of the channel look like a mere scuffle. With the chain of command yet to be set, the floor is open for some of the best Isobel v. Cora v. Violet action that Downton has to offer. However, Isobel’s hostile takeover is slowed by a combination of O’Brien’s Machiavellian urges and Robert’s love of hierarchy. O’Brien tees up Thomas to take charge of Downton and coaxes him into the fray as he leans on an archway smoking his way into a wide variety of lung problems in later life. In an almost implausible about face (the key word for King Julian here is almost), Robert, Major Clarkson and Carson agree that Corpral Barrow is now trustworthy(ish), should be bumped up to the rank of Acting Sargent and be allowed to use the front door (although Carson remains unsure about the last bit). With Thomas in place and Major Clarkson at the hospital, Robert is on the hunt for another “tier” having looked at this microcosm of society and decided that there was not enough division. Evelyn Napier’s request to stay at Downton prompts Major Clarkson to enact border controls that would make Priti Patel look on in envy and neatly demonstrates the bind in which the Crawleys now find themselves. It is perhaps fitting, if predicable, that by the end of the episode Isobel and Cora are to share responsibility for Downton in what will remain the worst coalition of all time until 2015 when Cadbury will get together with Vegemite. Look it up. Trust me, it was rank. 

Having an equally tense episode is Lavina who, fresh from behind manhandled behind the laurels, is now under Rosamund’s microscope with Violet declaring her to be an object to be removed which is a bit harsh even for her. It is rumoured that Lavinia stole secrets from her Uncle for Richard Carlisle to publish as part of his uncovering of the Marconi Scandal, a historical event whose name is said loudly and clearly at least three times so that we can all Google it in the ad-break. Sensing a potential weakness, the Crawley women (who I am resisting the urge to call Robert’s Angels) dig deeper as Mary hunts out Lavinia to give her the third degree. Lavinia admits that she did start the uncovering of the scandal but not in the pursuit of a transparent and accountable government. Instead it was to save her father from financial ruin. And all of her sudden, in exposing corruption and hypocrisy just to save her own skin she has gone from being a Department of Health and Social Care security guard to Dominic Cummings. 

Violet’s concerns about the potential carnage that mixing ranks could let loose are not unfounded as Major Bryant confuses the Abbey with the Villa and Ethel takes one look at him and thinks “He’s a little bit of me”. Sadly/fortunately Ethel’s tucking in of Major Bryant’s blankets is halted by Mrs Hughes before Laura Whitmore can ask everyone to gather around the fire pit. 

Apparently more romantically reticent than Bryant is Bates, who has taken to hiding behind a tree in the Village on Wednesdays just to catch a glimpse of Anna, demonstrating a behaviour pattern that does not throw up any red flags at all. Richard Carlises’ network of spies find him in a pub in Kirkbymoorside which Anna describes as “odd” despite the fact that of all the things he has done (or is about to do) in this episode, let alone the Downton Abbey canon as a whole, this is definitely the most sensible decision he has made. It means he does not have to navigate the staircases that formed a fair amount of his plot in the previous season for a start. Rather than leave him be, Anna takes an alarmingly shiny bus to an almost forensically clean pub where she orders what turns out to be a very horrific looking glass of cider from an eternally conflicted Bates. Bates tells Anna his plan to divorce Vera and declares that he does not care about gender discrimination in the law. In return Anna shows off her attempt at using this week’s bit of new technology, the curling iron. Asked for his opinion, Bates replies that he would love Anna “however, whatever, wherever”, cleverly avoiding the question in a way that simultaneously shows the depth of his amour but also indicates that he thinks it’s hideous. 

Edith finds herself lacking purpose and direction like most people in their mid-twenties. Sybil, the annoying over-achieving younger sibling, tells her to work out what she is good at which turns out to be being a scribe, and getting books and carcinogenic substances for Officers. Edith’s quiet industry enables her to gain a good working knowledge of all the key protagonists on General Strutt’s tour which earns her a toast at Lunch. For Edith, this is the equivalent of getting an M.B.E. 

Another character looking to take advantage of General Strutt’s sojourn is Branson whose plans to be a conscientious objector are scuppered by a heart murmur. His flair for the dramatic takes him to the courtyard of deceit (a location looking to form an alliance with the tree of emotional conflict and the platform of romantic uncertainty) where he polishes headlamps and gathers intel about the impending visit. The lack of footmen leaves an opening for Branson to cause if not the downfall, certainly the minor humiliation, of the British Army. A cryptic “forgive me” note prompts some some Blair Witch style camera work to underline the sense of urgency as Anna pelts it downstairs. The costume department breathe a sigh of relief as Branson manhandled out of the dining room before he can upend a rather creative concoction which invites the question, how did he get so much ink? 

As William shows off his uniform, Daisy, coached by Mrs Patmore, continues to lead him up the garden path. William admits he is nervous about the prospect of facing the brutal reality of World War One and Mrs Patmore gently weeps across the table bringing her episode:crying ratio up pretty high even for something on a Sunday evening on ITV. Luckily, there is an opening for William to become Matthew’s solider servant which is good news for William and the budget as the exact same section of trench can continue to be used for both characters. Before he leaves, William proposes to Daisy and, naturally, Mrs Patmore accepts. Daisy’s “go on then” is hardly the most ringing of endorsements and her face resembling that of a rabbit who has taken a wrong turn and finds themselves on the fringes of the M4 cannot be reasonably described as elated. Daisy does manage to gather herself to delay the now inevitable wedding and so becomes possibly the only person in Britain who was not hoping for it to be all over by Christmas. 

Lang and his ever present mournful violin accompaniment continue to have a rough time of it. He repays Mrs Patmore’s kindness by outing Archie to the rest of the servants, causing her to leave the room in abject misery. But this reaction could also have been caused by the prospect of a mistimed crumble. It’s difficult to tell. Lang’s nightmare enables the women to bust through the hitherto impenetrable divide between the male and female staff quarters and it is clear that his days at Downton are numbered. Lang collapses as the General and his entourage retreat and his use as a plot device in this very much smoothed over view of the past is at its end. He is dismissed with a decent wage package and a good reference and is never to be spoken of again. 

Romantic declaration of the moment 

William and Daisy do not get this one as this is a coercion free zone. Instead Mary and Matthew get it. Matthew being back at Downton gives Mary the chance to stare at him longingly across a room but it is her decision not to rat out Lavinia as a reluctant whistleblower that earns their spot here. Only an almost unfathomable amount of love would make Mary place Matthew’s happiness above her own. 

Expressive eyebrow of the week 

Regular winner Carson claims the prize again this week. His blind fury at Branson’s then presumed to be assassination attempt is glorious. 

Wait, what? 

“Marmaduke was not a rough diamond” No-one called Marmaduke can be called rough anything. Sort of reminds me of a picture my brother showed me of his then partner’s friends when they were younger spelling out the name of their public school boarding house in gangster sign language. Zero self-awareness. 

“Acting Sargent I believe” Aloe standing by. 

“The bastard had it coming” I think I need to revise my previous curse word estimate. 

No particular quote for this bit but Branson delivering news from Russia made him seem like a man who had read the headline and maybe the first paragraph (at a push) of an article and is now holding forth on the topic, ready to take on anyone with a P.h.D in the matter. I do like Branson but increasingly it’s when he shuts up. 

The least believable bit of this whole episode was Isis being completely unbothered by an incoming pingpong ball. I once stayed in a friend’s house where an absolute catastrophe was disguising itself as a dog. She would eye up the limes on the sideboard expecting them to vault across the room. When any even vaguely spherical object did achieve airspeed velocity, she would lose it. And I mean lose it. 

General Strutt’s tour of Downton has an air of a politician doing a ward round. Should you yourself fear an encounter with our current premiere, you can pick up one of these cards from the News From Nowhere bookshop in Liverpool (other retailers may be available but this is the only place I have seen them). 

[hobidreams]

april 1869.

the night brings with it the moon, rippling waters, and truths silenced with his mouth hot on your skin.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst words: 2.2k contains: historical au, exhibitionism (but more indirectly), rough sex, dirty talk, name-calling, hurt feelings, hair pulling, a very unhealthy (but historically accurate) relationship, yoongi is an ass

moonlit throne index. this is drabble two. start from the beginning?

The chilly evening wind of coming spring sweeps a scattering of fallen leaves across the courtyard. It ripples through the sleeves of your jeogori as you descend from the stone veranda of your quarters towards the private palace gardens. The two guards who stand at the entrance move wordlessly aside upon seeing you, offering you slight bows that you return. Past this barrier, the tall, reaching trees hang against the darkened sky, heavy branches scratching invisible marks over the moonlight. You follow the set path with steady footsteps, passing blooming shrubs with a yawn on your lips. The day has been long and your eyes are sore from studying medicine with only a dim lamp for company. But the breeze - it whisks away fatigue with an enviable ease.

The path winds along the expansive pond. Water lettuce and lily pads cover most of the liquid surface, lining the makeshift island that houses your favorite: the grand pavilion. Recently renovated on the king’s direct instruction. You move closer, slippers leaving stone to scrape the thin wooden bridge.

Something in the dark shifts.

Your eyes fall upon a shadow. Your steps stutter, then quicken.

“Jeonha.”

The king sits on the left bench, near the open front that has yet to be replaced, with a casual arm draped over the intricate banister. He doesn’t stir at the sound of your deliberately soft voice, his gaze remaining mired on something in the distance, far beyond the pavilion’s, or perhaps even the palace’s, reach. His hat is abandoned beside him, the topknot slightly loose where it is bound on his head.

“May I join you?”

He waves his hand absently.

You consider your options, but ultimately take advantage of the pavilion’s half-finished state and sit on the very edge with your legs tucked under you in a traditional kneel. You cannot even remember the last time you’ve sat together like this - out in the open outdoors, away from the tightly-drawn curtains of his chambers and away from prying eyes. Only now do you realize how much it had been missing. “The willow trees have grown out nicely,” you offer, what you hope is a safe topic. You watch a lily pad drift idly by. “I hope the lotus flowers bloom well this year. The pond truly felt so empty last season without their color. I—”

“Is it commonplace for subjects to inflict idle chatter on their king?” The ice in his voice is a slap across the face.

You shut up immediately. Nervously swallow too, but the heaviness in your throat remains stuck. You’ve become uncomfortably familiar with that tone, the quick temper that flares up in seconds but takes its time to dissipate. A part of you wants to retreat and hide; the other can never bear to leave him. Ever so slightly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, you turn your head instead. Take your first good look at him and almost gasp at how gaunt he looks in the sparse light. Nor do you expect the deep purple settled beneath his eyes. If this had been ten or even just two years ago, you wouldn’t hesitate to mention it but with things as they are, you are so nervous to speak and…

“What?”

“Have,” you bow your head slightly, “have you not been sleeping?”

Silence.

“Jeonha?” You press. “Please.”

When he finally looks at you, it’s with a glare. “I haven’t the time.”

“And your meals?”

“Not hungry.”

Your fingers knot. “But rest, sleep is essential. As is food. Without it, to make important decisions—”

“Hah!” His scowl deepens, the scar stretching down with his lips. “It would make little difference in how they are received.”

Ah.

You should’ve known it was impossible to miss the rumors rumbling through the palace, their source the restless palace occupants faced with a ruthless king. He can’t stop the rampant thievery brought on by the grain shortage, yet executes the thieves themselves. His petty rejection of treaty with Japan left threats of war looming like an open wound that refuses to heal. All this, the former king would never have done. Or so the gossip goes.

“Still… Jeonha, you cannot, simply cannot, live like this. The people need you to be strong. They need their leader. Every hour you spend pushing yourself too far is an hour taken off your life. ” Saying the words alone puts a tremble in your fingers. The thought of his death could keep you awake right along with him. Has. But every syllable you speak is an overstep of your boundaries and rank. “I-If something is weighing on your mind, tell me. Use me. Tell me what you need and I’ll try to help however I can.”

He laughs then, but it’s an ugly, mocking sound. With a thud, he drops to the floor. “Spare me your fucking idealism.” His tight fist finds the roots of your hair. He yanks, hard. Your plain hairpin clatters to the floor, teetering wildly off the pavilion edge. “You, help me? What power do you have?” He drags you backwards, your eyes wide and quivering as they find fury in his. “What can you really do?”

He all but rips open your sash and you let him. You let him throw aside the layers that cover your chest until you’re exposed to him, torn white fabric pooling around your arms. His breath is hot at the shell of your ear as he growls, “this is all I need from you. This and nothing else.”

“T-Then use me,” you repeat, despite the dagger stab of pain in your heart. If this will lessen his burdens, you’ll do it. If this will have him in your arms if only fleetingly, you’ll do it.

He grabs a breast and smirks when you tense, then cry out when he pinches a nipple pebbled from the wind. Take it all, you think deliriously when his fingers tighten with an almost unbearable strength, and again when he dips his head low, sucking hard at the nape of your neck to give you a dark ache to remember come morning. He leaves one mark then another, and another, as if threatening to consume you entirely with his desire. And you? You’re addicted to that jolt of pain, the heady wetness of dominance that says he wants you. He wants nothing but you right now, and you tuck that precious knowledge away with a moan.

When he flips you onto your back, you don’t hear the quiet splash as your hand knocks the pin over. All your focus is stolen by your king between your legs, demanding obedience even from his knees. He wastes no time in forcing your skirt up, undoing the ties of the shorts beneath and throwing them aside. You don’t think you breathe until his nail rakes across the scrap of cloth covering your heat. “Look at you,” he mutters. “So wet. Shameless.” He doesn’t bother taking off the sokgot before fucking two fingers into you, deep enough for you to feel the ridge of his knuckles. The way your tight cunt opens and molds to him makes him sink his teeth into his lip in appreciation.

You already feel pressure building when he curls his fingers. It spikes up when he scissors, pushes you apart to hear you gasp. The noise travels far, echoing across the water while he makes a mess of you with each rapid pump. You don’t need to see to know that clear arousal is running down the sides of your lower lips. The sound of slick is as lewd as your whines, pitched at a tell-tale high.

“Fast, too fast,” you groan. But when you shift back, you’re only met with open air beneath your hands. You turn your head in panic and yelp when you realize just how close you are to the edge, with nothing but murky water below. “J-Jeonha, let me bac—”

“No.” His eyes glimmer with something possessive at the sight of you stretched out over the precipice, moonlight’s glow painted across your bare skin. All that pliant softness for him to ruin.

And you do break, when he hits that spot and punishes it without a second’s pause. “Please, oh god, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but his palm slaps against your skin with reckless strokes. Your spine curves back, head going with it until all you see is the night and burning stars and everything in this palace that belongs solely to him. You let go. You cum with an errant hand flung out, fingers skimming across the water, the rest of you pinned beneath him. Uncontrollable.

His smile is sadistic as he leans over you, still fully clothed in his royal robes as he watches you tremble. “Think the guards can hear you?” You want to shake your head but all you do is grind your hips into him. “If they turned their heads, they’d see you like this. Needy. Desperate.” He spits the humiliating words through set teeth. “Why don’t I call them over and show them what the esteemed physician is really like?” His cocksure grin stretches even wider when he feels you clench in response. It seems to make up his mind; he doesn’t extract his fingers even though bliss has turned sharply into soreness. Just fucks you through the last of the aftershocks and then some until he brings you to peak for a second, noisy time.

Only then does he draw back, swiping his tongue slowly up his soaked hand. His eyes never leave you, even as he strips enough to pull his thick cock from the folds of gilded silk. You don’t get much of a glimpse before it’s sheathed in you, much fuller than his fingers. Your overstimulated cunt reacts despite the sensitivity, wetly clinging to his shaft as he bottoms out. He doesn’t stop to savor, doesn’t even let you catch a breath before he’s moving forward. His thrusts now, angry and quick and deep  - they’re for him.

The low grunts of effort drop alongside sweat down his neck, topknot bobbing back and forth and he keeps going, nimble hips pistoning with none of the precision of his swordplay. Where that is beautiful, controlled movements, he finds himself the exact opposite when he’s inside you. A damn slave to the pleasure surging through his body,  and he seems to hate that he needs it. A loathing that he leaves in the bruises on your ass every time you smack to the floor.  “Always this tight for me,” he mutters in a low register.

You’re trying your best to hold on, and survive the acute ache of him battering against your deepest core because you could never ask him to stop. Your fingers cling to the stone boundary, holding you to solid ground when everything feels like it’s been tossed clear up into the air. You almost can’t bear to look at him like this. It’ll make you believe in the intimacy shared between lovers when this is—

He snarls your name, draws your attention back.  “Say it.”

“J-Jeonha…!”

He must like what he hears and finds in your gaze, for he smirks. “You’ve become a nice little whore for me, haven’t you?”

And that’s it. That’s when you feel the hot sting behind your eyes finally overflow. It’s a word that’s you’ve become well-acquainted with these past few months but to hear it from his lips is... The tears slide backwards down your cheeks, rippling the pond but he doesn’t notice. Or if he does, maybe he pretends they’re of pleasure. If only you could follow suit.

He takes two almost-unbearably deep strokes and then, suddenly, you’re empty. He’s gasping, surprisingly undone as his hand slides frantically on his own cock. Sticky cum soon splatters all over your stomach, staining your skirt with his conquest. Panting, he looks at you through loose strands of blonde hair and doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans forward. For a moment, you forget yourself and expect him to kiss you. Instead, he hauls you up from the brink with a sweaty hand on the back of your neck.

“What? Want something else?” He snaps when he finds your puffy eyes staring at him.

You think about asking him if he’s alright. Maybe he would listen if you tried again, just once more time. But your body is sore, your thighs and core between them especially so. A lingering reminder that this is perhaps all you are good for in his eyes. Whore.

“No. Nothing.”

He stands, wiping dust off his sleeves, but otherwise not bothering to fix much of his wrinkled robes.  “Then you are dismissed,” he says, then walks off. Likely to his private quarters, the back entrance connected to this garden.

Alone on the floor, you curl yourself up and still feel the emptiness, a dissatisfaction. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a songbird has been singing, marking the terribly late hour. On a sigh with fingers trembling, you pull the scraps of your jacket around your nakedness and try to shield yourself from the wind.

[nevermindirah]

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite​‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen​ used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)

[aprilsrant]

Start Over | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) has anger issues and a bad reputation that follows. Oliver seems to be the only one who hasn’t been on the receiving end of her outbursts and there might be a hidden reason for it.

WORD COUNT: 2,3k.

WARNINGS: Marcus Flint being an idiot and a missoginy brat, it’s kind of angsty towards the end. Maybe a curse word or two. There is a fight and a duel too. (If I miss any, let me know!)

REQUEST: can’t find it, but yes, this was requested.

A/N: This took me so long and I’m so sorry, but for some reason I couldn’t get this finished. Hope you enjoy it! Like, reblog or leave comment if you like, feedback is always appreciated!!

Also, I made the reader have a holly wand because details are important sometimes.

English is not my first language, there could be mistakes!

Gif is not mine!!

MASTERLIST.

For whatever stupid, possibly misogynist, reason, Marcus Flint never allowed girls to tryout for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, not even when he, and everyone else present, knew of their talent and how much it would benefit them. Now more than ever, with that Harry Potter kid catching every single Snitch flying round him, Flint’s team needed new members. And members that actually knew how to play and not those who would pay their way in. 

Once again, (Y/N) was waiting in the stands for the Slytherin Captain and the whole group attempting to grab themselves a spot. Arriving before them gave her an “advantage” and that was not being completely disregarded the minute Flint saw her in the midst of the line up following him like some kind of lost puppys. 

With nothing else to do than just stand round the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, (Y/N) looked up and watched as a few Gryffindors threw the Quaffle towards one of the three hoops. She didn’t even know why people kept trying out to be a Chaser in Wood’s team when the current three were the best they had. And they were all women. Who would have thought that girls could play that well, right? 

(Y/N) didn’t know why she continued to insist when she was aware that Flint would never let her be on the team. Maybe because it was her last year, or because she had a tiny spark of hope inside of her that something, pretty much a miracle, would happen and the boy’d change his mind, finally acknowledging that (Y/N) was better than the two Slytherin beaters together. 

“What are you doing here, (Y/L/N)?,” the voice of the Slytherin Captain brought her back from the train of thoughts. Glancing towards the Pitch, she realised that it was empty, the only Gryffindor there was Oliver Wood, seating in the opposite set of stands with a notebook and a pencil in his hand. Upon seeing Flint and the trail of Slytherins behind him, he rolled his eyes and quickly left his spot, steps faltering after hearing Marcus’s irritated tone. “I told you, multiple times may I remind you, that I don’t want girls in my team, and especially not those who want to be beaters.”

This was something she saw coming, of course, and she’d tried to assume it for the last couple of days every time the image of being rejected, again, would pop into her head, replaying the times were she had actually been rejected as if her own mind was trying to torture her.

She had also seen the other part coming, and she had tried to stop it. But in her defense, when Professor Snape interrogated her an hour later, Marcus Flint kind of deserved it. 

“Why not, Flint? I’ve been trying to get in the team ever since you became Captain and decided I wasn’t good enough after our fourth year,” (Y/N) had said, voice raising after more words left her mouth. With her broomstick in hand, she stepped down the stands and marched towards him. 

“You said it yourself, (Y/N), you weren’t, and still aren’t, good enough,” Marcus responded while shrugging his shoulders arrogantly and walking past her. 

“I was good enough, you prick, I was better than just good enough and you fucking know it.” All of the group that had gathered to try out turned their heads in her direction when she started to scream, whispers and shared glances expectant of the outcome of the argument. Pushing a third year in front of her out of her way, she kept walking, stopping only after she was face to face with Marcus. “And how can you be so sure I’m not adequate? You haven’t even let me fly around the Pitch for the last two years.”

Ignoring her, Flint commanded the two boys carrying the box full of equipment to leave it on the floor and start to warm up. 

“Can you… Can you, please, let me try this one time?,” (Y/N) whispered, burying her pride and dignity in the same coffin after the word please escaped from her mouth. 

“Now you’re begging, you are pathetic, (Y/L/N), and they say you’re supposed to be dangerous” the boy exclaimed, clearly enjoying seeing her so desperate. He walked towards her, his taller figure towering over the girl. “Let me tell you something. Both of us were on the team, right now one is the Captain and the other one… Well, I’m pretty sure you know your exact position in this whole thing. And that’s why you are not in my place, because you are not good enough.”

Her teeth, jaw and fists clenched at the same time, the rest of her body shaking slightly, lighting up on fire with every sentence Marcus sneered at her. 

From a young age she had people question her, her interests and her decisions, even her place in the House of ambition, many believing the girl to be “too soft” at first. That had changed after the start of her second year. If they wanted her to be violent, rash and reckless, that’s what they got. Now, every time her name was mentioned around Hogwarts, whispers and rumours would be shortly behind. Most of the things people said about her were incorrect, not even close to the truth, but she accepted them anyways. She took each one of the rumours and turned them into her truth.

For some (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was on the right path to become a Dark Witch, a pureblood longing to take on Lord Voldemort’s place and rule over the Wizarding World, torturing muggleborns and blood traitors. To others, she was the Devil’s offspring in the flesh, waiting for the right moment to raise the forces of hell upon Hogwarts. And they were the ones speaking of her mental state while coming up with ridiculous theories. Nonetheless, she had to admit it was a new kind of entertainment seeing the first years getting warned about her, bombarding them with false information and stupid allegations. But the laughs she would have from it on her own company didn’t erase the loneliness and the solemn feeling of having no one. 

Like the symbol of her house, (Y/N) was a creature of instinct. And like what people murmured about her, (Y/N) was also a creature of violence.

As only one can imagine, no one was shocked from the response Marcus Flint got. Not in words, or insults, which were regular, but in the form of a fist connecting with his cheek (although she had intended to hit the nose). 

One would think anger makes people a better fighter, all that pent up rage coming from nowhere and lashing out against your opponent it’s more damaging to you than the person you are fighting. Now, this was not (Y/N)’s first fist fight but that didn’t mean she knew what she was doing. Every time she had punched someone it had happened in the midst of uncontrollable wrath growing, attaching itself to the girl’s body, controlling her limbs, numbing her mind.

For a moment she closes her eyes, one thought in her mind, vanishing as quickly as it appeared, — I did it. Again —. When (Y/N) opens them, she notices the change of scenario, or positions. She is no longer standing on her feet, she is several metres away from her housemate, the back of her body on the receiving end of the harsh floor; the loud beating of her heart thundering in her ears, almost giving her a headache, swallowing the spell Flint had used on her. 

After rising from the grass, (Y/N) marches towards him, holly wand in her hand shooting hexes, barely missing its target. She’s about to whisper the Stunning Spell when someone from behind grabs her wrist, holding her back from trying to curse Marcus, whose responses are getting slower and scarcely protecting him. An arm sneaks around (Y/N)’s figure, distancing her from the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. 

Her elbow moves almost instinctively and hits the person behind her in the stomach, the arm around her waist retreating fast enough for (Y/N) to cast a protection charm and petrify Marcus Flint. 

Turning around, she sees none other than Oliver Wood, bending over his stomach with a hand clenching his right knee and gasping for air.

“What the bloody hell was that, Wood?”

“I was trying to help you!,” he manages to say while looking up at her.

“Help me? You were trying to stop me, you twat.”

“Exactly!,” Oliver shouts, making her move backwards, “Do you want to get yourself expelled, (Y/L/N)? Because if that’s what you want, you are doing an excellent job.”

She should have hexed him right there, no one else was on the Quidditch Pitch with them, except the handful of Slytherins and those weren’t the snitching types, but she didn't, surprising herself and everyone else watching them.

||| 

Later that night, after finishing the horrendous detention Snape had put her in —reorganizing his entire cabinet claimed by suspicious ingredients and potions with terrible smells, making the small space smell like rotten eggs and the Gryffindor Quidditch robes after a rough match—, looking at the moon and the landscape surrounding Hogwarts from the Astronomy Tower, she thought about the reasons to why she hadn’t raised her wand, or fist, to face Oliver. 

He wasn’t special. Yes, he was a great wizard, with problems in Potions and History of Magic, still quite good at Defensive spells but not that good to beat her if she was fully focused, he would be easy to defeat especially after Quidditch tryouts. So, why? Why did she just walk away?

“I knew I could find you here.”

(Y/N) turned around, quickly taking hold of her holly wand and raising it towards the tower’s entrance. The thundering in her chest calming, her breathing going back to its normal pace when she realised it wasn’t Sirius Black, the murderer that had escaped Azkaban and was said to have roamed through the castle. 

“What are you doing here, Oliver?”, she addressed him once the moonlight illuminated his tall figure.

“I wanted to apologise,” the boy admitted, his voice faltered just like his approach, as if he was trying to make peace with a beast; as if he was telling a snake that his feet would not come close to its head, “for what I said earlier. It wasn’t fair because I know how you…”

“How I what? How I tend to react when I’m angry?,” (Y/N) interrupted, the hand holding her wand still facing Oliver, “don’t try to act like you know me.”

“But I used to,” he murmured.

Neither of them said anything, both of their minds desperately trying to find the right words, one to plead for forgiveness once again and the other to accept it if the plea ever escaped his mouth.

The distant sound of creatures soaring through the night sky and the flip of their wings was all they heard for minutes, minutes that had felt like hours; she would dare to say days if the sky wasn’t still dark, filled with bright stars circling a full moon. 

“Why don’t we get to know each other all over again? We can start over, please.”

There it was.

And then it came.

“That’s such a great idea, Oliver!,” (Y/N) answered with a big smile on her face, the quick change of demeanour unsettling Oliver. They hadn’t talked in years but he was still amazed at how much he remembered of her, and how this didn’t mean any good. “We can get to know each other like all those years ago and then, you can abandon me like all those years ago”. The grin on her lips transforming into a scowl right after she pronounced the last part of her sentence.

“Why are you even here, Wood? You felt guilty and now you’re trying to make it go away? Or is it charity?,” the Slytherin kept ranting,” or better yet, someone challenged you to do this? I’m putting all my money on the Weasley Twins. 

“N-No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Oliver explained while moving his hands and walking the final steps leading him to (Y/N),“ I just- I never- I, I never wanted this, I never expected it but everyone was talking about you and-and they were saying horrible things and…”

“And you believed them,” (Y/N) stated, turning around to stop facing him and his hurt expression,” I don’t blame you for doing it. It’s quite funny if you think about it.”

“What’s quite funny?,” his gaze still on her when he asked.

“Most of the things you and the rest of the school heard were invented by me, so people would just stop bothering me,” she pretended to confess only to the stars, for if she didn’t, she would never admit it to him,” you can say I planned my entire doom. And it’s quite funny because, in the end, you still believed me.”

“You could have told me, (Y/N). Why didn’t you?”

“You believed the rumours, I’m sure not the craziest ones though, but that tells me that you thought I was capable of actually doing all the terrible things I said about myself.”

“I’m sorry, I am, (Y/N), truly.”

“Sorry doesn’t mend it,” she murmured, now forcing herself to look him in the eyes and act as if the pain never happened; as if she hadn’t missed his company and his random, permanently out of place Quidditch facts.

“I know, but it’s everything I have right now and I hope you can forgive me one day.”

“I have already forgiven you, Oliver, but I was too proud to reach you.”

“Typical you, (Y/N). I should have expected it.”

A small smile formed in her lips and for a moment she forgot their broken friendship, the reputation that had become her shadow and the future awaiting after Hogwarts. It was only them, (Y/N) and Oliver, with the moon glowing down on their faces and the feeling of being eleven year olds settling over their minds.

taglist: @gcdric​ @lilac-wrists​ @cappsikle​ @aesthetically-hailey​ @shadowsinger11​ @slytherinsunrise​ @theweasleysredhair​ 

If you want me to add you to the taglist, send an ask or dm me!!

[ijustwant2write]

Underestimated-Halfdan The Black x Reader

(GIF credit to @jorindelle​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! Could you please write an imagine about Halfdan? If so, with smut please ☺️ thank you in advance, I love your imagines!’

Characters: Halfdan the Black x Reader, Harald Finehair x Reader (brother-in-law)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, kissing, mention of weapons, mention of battle, fighting/violence, touching/groping, dirty talk, mention of cum, fluff

                                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun was beating down on us harshly, despite the season turning cold, but with no clouds in the sky we found ourselves sweating as we trained. I was in charge today, these young people knew the basics, though they thought that meant they were ready. They had a long way to go before they were fully prepared for battle.

"Rest for a short while. Lay your weapons down, have some water, try to get out of the sun. We shall be sparring next." I announced, laughing at their relieved faces.

"(Y/N)?" one of the girls called as they sat under the nearest tree, whilst another girl grabbed a hug to pour everyone a cup of water.

"Yes?" I sat down with them.

"Is it true that on the last raid, you found yourself surrounded by five warriors on the battlefield? And you had no choice but to fight them off yourself?!" 

"Yes, it's true. That was a difficult battle, even without being ambushed. You see, we weren't raiding a helpless village, or a meek town. These people were prepared, since the first viking raid years and years ago, they had been training, just like we do. Although they were not up to our standards of skill, they had courage, which, at first, helped them. I had managed to cut down anyone in my path, until they caught me out.”

"So how did you escape?"

"She didn't." someone else spoke up.

All of our heads turned to look at Birger, who was leaning back against the tree, sipping on his water as he smirked.

I raised an eyebrow at him."Oh? I didn't realise you were there Birger, please elaborate."

His expression didn't falter as he sat up."It doesn't make sense. Anyone with enough sense you see that. You say you're able to fight your way through everyone, and suddenly you're in trouble?"

"Well, Birger, if you had ever been in a battle, or even a small scrap for that matter, you would understand that you cannot control everything. Even the greatest warriors find themselves in trouble at times. That's why training is so important. You might learn something if you paid attention instead of gazing at yourself in the reflection of your sword."

The others snickered under their breaths, causing Birger to scowl.“I am going to be the finest warrior-”

“Yes, you will be due to my training. You’re young and naive, but over time you will learn discipline. Everyone, you have five minutes before we start again. And thanks to Birger, we will start with double conditioning.”

It was cruel to the others, but the look of resentment on Birger’s face secretly brought me joy. It was sadistic, though he deserved it. He was right, he would become a great fighter, just like his parents (who were good friends of mine, hence why I had agreed to take him on). I had no idea where his attitude came from, all of his family were very humble; however, he was the eldest of all their children, who the rest of were girls, and as the only son, he was the one who would carry on the family line. And with parents known for their fighting skills, he also had the pressure of becoming a warrior. 

“Birger, may I talk to you?” I said as I dismissed everyone at the end of the day.

He halted in his steps, and I could tell he rolled his eyes before turning around. “Yes?”

“I want you to keep training, I want to keep training you. But I will not tolerate you speaking of me in such an ill manner and spreading lies.”

He shrugged, looking away.“If what you say is true, why are so defensive about it?”

“I am defending my honour. I have fought beside your parents to ensure that the children of this town, children like yourself, have a good and rich future. There is a thin line between confidence and arrogance.”

“I get this speech every day from my father, I don’t need to listen to you too. Especially from someone who uses her husband’s titles to her advantage-”

“Be careful what you say boy, otherwise you shall lose your tongue.” Halfdan suddenly appeared behind me, causing my head to whip up to look at him.

Birger looked frightened, but didn’t back down.“You can’t do that.”

“Who says?” Halfdan’s arm slipped around my waist.

“My parents would-”

“Your parents would thank me. Go on, run home boy.”

It was easy to see that Birger wanted to bite back, his hand was even on the hilt of his sword (a beautiful piece of weaponry gifted to him, I had been jealous of it). Knowing he would get into more trouble or embarrass himself, he sulked away, picking up his pace to catch up with his friends.

“I can handle Birger.” I moaned to my husband, turning around to face him.

He smirked.“I know, but I love seeing him shit his trousers.”

I giggled.“Yes, so do I. Although I would have liked to do that myself, thank you.”

He shamelessly let his hands slide down to grope my arse, pulling me close as he leaned down to kiss me. I held onto either side of his face, loving how he was treating me in that moment. He moaned against my mouth, and although I could feel myself getting worked up, we had other places to be, and I was in the mood for teasing him.

“Halfdan.” I breathed out as his lips travelled down my neck.“We have your brother’s birthday feast.”

He pulled away, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.“And?”

I laughed.“We need to get ready. I still need to bathe.”

“Well, we should bathe together-”

“You’ll make us late.” I gently took his arms off me.

“Is there something wrong with you today? Are you feeling alright?” he put his hand against my forehead.

I removed it, kissing his hand before taking it in my own.“I’m absolutely fine. Let’s go.”

It was hilarious seeing his reaction. He was gobsmacked as I dragged him along. Of course throughout our relationship, we had teased each other like this before, but it had been a long time since I had fun like this. Halfdan was used to fucking women whenever he liked long before me, and used to making love to me regularly. However, in this moment he was confused as to why I didn’t want him to take me in the field, especially since we hadn’t slept together for over a week, due to clashing schedules. 

As soon as we stepped into our home, I made a beeline for our room, ordering the thralls to start my bath. Another thrall already had my dress laid out on a chair, along with the shoes and jewellery. I was admiring the pieces, knowing that Halfdan had followed me, and I refrained from giggling when he ordered the thralls to leave. 

“Halfdan,” I faked shock,“they need to run my bath, I have to get ready!”

“Why are you so insistent on being on time? We’ve been late many times before.”

“Because we have a reputation to uphold.”

“A reputation?” he walked closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chest against my back.“We’re known for loving each other very much.”

“You grow weak in your age Halfdan.”

He tensed.“Say that again.”

“Are you scared you won’t last the night anymore? You’ll cum just looking at me?”

He quickly turned me around to face him, pushing me against a nearby wall.“You think I can’t fuck you all night? Afraid I won’t be able to make you scream my name until your throat is hoarse, and make your legs shake so much that you can’t walk the day? You don’t think I can kiss every inch of your body, making you squirm so much that you just beg me to take you? You know how you look the next day, marked by me so everyone knows what we did the night before, and everyone know how good I can fuck you?”

Although I could feel myself getting wetter, the stubborn part of me wanted to keep us this act, because when Halfdan was riled up, the sex was on another level.“Halfdan, I need to get ready.”

The shit eating grin that had slowly formed on his face as he teased me instantly disappeared. He was pissed off. Slowly moving away from me, his fingers lingered in mine.

“R-right.” he mumbled.

“I’ll be as quick as I can. Go, I’m sure the thralls have everything ready for you too.” I pecked him on the lips before ushering him out, becoming giddy at the thought of us fucking later. 

With a smile on my face the entire time I was getting ready, I caught the thralls exchanging looks, they knew what was coming tonight. I felt slightly bad for them, they couldn’t escape the noise we created. But Halfdan and I had never been afraid for other’s to know how much we loved each other.

Surprisingly, Halfdan didn’t try anything on the way to the hall. He knew I wasn’t giving in so easily. We greeted Harald upon our arrival, who was already in the midst of a group of friends. Guests were trickling in, we were just on time. Harald’s smile beamed as he spotted us, arms opening for a rough, manly hug with his brother, before gently embracing me with a light kiss on both cheeks. Our thralls added his gifts to the growing pile as we were handed drinks, starting off the night that was sure to end well.

“Brother, you seem tense this evening. You have your beautiful wife beside you, what could you be upset about?” Harald laughed as we sat at the head table, just finished with our elaborate feast. 

“No I am not.” Halfdan poorly defended himself.

“Speaking of wives,” I interrupted, leaning across my husband, hand resting on his thigh,“shouldn’t you be down there dancing with eligible young ladies?”

Harald cleared his throat.“Well, I’m not much of a dancer-”

“Nonsense! You need to find yourself a wife! They’re all dying for you to even glance in their direction. And if you don’t find someone tonight, it’s your birthday, you should be having fun.”

He grinned at me.“Well, if you insist. It is my birthday after all.”

I laughed as my brother-in-law practically ran down to the gaggle of women in the room, seeing him manage to convince one to dance with him. The music was upbeat, a lot of people were now dancing, the alcohol in their systems giving them more confidence. They were singing as they danced, laughing the whole time. Looking at Halfdan, you wouldn’t think you were at a cheerful celebration. He noticed me suppressing my laugh, but when his foul eyes darted to look at me, I couldn’t contain it any longer. Heads still turned to look at me as I laughed, despite the volume of the music. 

“I’m glad you are enjoying yourself.” Halfdan spat.

I struggled to speak, talking between laughs.“Yes...I really am...I’m sorry my love....but your face!”

He just scoffed at me, downing the rest of his drink.

“Oh Halfdan, you grow grumpy with age.” I leaned over, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“Now you call me old.”

I hummed, slowly sliding my hand across his thigh.“You are so tense, as if you were made of stone.”

“I will not play your games.”

“That’s shame.” I lowly said, rubbing my hand on the inside of his leg, moving further upwards.“I can always stop if you want.”

He took in a shaky breath, looking out at the crowd dancing. I placed my hand on top of his crotch, grabbing him firmly through his trousers, enjoying it as he closed his eyes. I moved myself to sit on his lap, nothing out of the ordinary, there were many couples doing just the same. With one arm still working on his crotch, and the other wrapped around the back of his neck, I started to kiss him. Halfdan took no time in grabbing my arse, trying to pull me closer to start grinding on him. Using my dress skirts to cover his lap, I used that to hide my hand disappearing into his trousers. Halfdan’s head tilted back as I gripped onto him, working him like I know I could and how he liked it. His moans were quiet, he didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself, though I could tell he was starting to struggle.

As my pace sped up, and his body began tensing up even more, I kissed him one last time before completely stopping, even standing up to expose his hard member. He rustled with his trousers, glaring at me as I started to walk away. I managed to make it outside before he grabbed me.

“You think you can just leave me unfinished and exposed like that?!” he snapped.

“I just did.”

“All day with this foolery! Well it stops right now.”

He laced his fingers with mine, dragging me away from the hall, and I started to get excited until I realised we were headed towards the stables. I ripped my arm away from him, holding up my arms as he tried to grab me again.

“You are not fucking me in a smelly stable, we are going home to our bed.” I sternly demanded.

“I cannot wait that long.” he growled.

“Halfdan, I’m not a whore. I’m your wife and you’ll do well to remember that.”

As soon as the last word left my lips, I stormed off in the direction of our home, smirking when Halfdan let out a loud groan. But he soon caught up to me, holding my hand again, kissing it to try and get me on his good side. When he saw my lips twitching up into a smile, he grinned, pulling me along, urging my feet to go faster.

We ran through our home to our bedroom, and I was immediately pushed against the door, Halfdan’s fingers already working to untie my dress. Having done it so many times before, it easily fell off my shoulders, causing me to shiver at the sudden coldness that hit my skin. Halfdan’s hands were warm as he ran them down my body, squeezing my breasts before travelling further down. One arm wrapped around my waist as his other hand started to rub my clit, slowly circling it. I let out a breathy mouth, already rotating my hips against him. His hand on my waist gripped me, it kept me in place as he slipped in a finger, despite wanting to write against him. As he entered another finger, he got onto his knees, driving his face in between my legs, his tongue working with his fingers to pleasure me. I gripped onto his hair as my knees buckled, trying to keep myself standing.

Whining as he stopped and got back onto his feet, my mouth dropped open as he licked his fingers in front of me.“Get on the bed.”

I moved instantly, sitting on the edge of it. He kept eye contact with me as he stalked over, his steps agonisingly slow. Knowing how this usually goes, I started to spread my legs for him, about to move back onto my elbows when he stopped me. I was looking up at him through my eyelashes, knowing what he wanted. It was my turn to undress him now. As he removed his shirt, I unbuckled his trousers again, pulling them down as I cast my eyes on his dick It was still hard, and I took him into my mouth as he grabbed the back of my head, tugging at my hair like I had done to him. I moaned around him, using my hands to take what was left of him as he pushed my head back and forth on his dick. I used to struggle to take him on with my mouth, but after so much practice, I could do it whenever I wanted to please my husband without hesitation.

Removing his hands from the back of my head, I took in a big breath of air as I pulled away from him, wiping away the saliva around my mouth. I didn’t want him to cum in my mouth, I wanted him to cum inside of me. He pushed me onto my back, flipping me onto my front. I raised my arse in the air for him, spreading my legs and reaching through them to touch myself. He hated when I did that, only he wanted to pleasure me. Grabbing onto my arse cheeks, he used his dick to tease my clit, sliding it along it and using my wetness to soak him. 

“I’m going to fuck you so hard.” he growled.“You deserve this, you’re going to be screaming, begging for me to stop because it’s too much, but I’ll keep going until I’ve cum inside you.”

“Please...” I said,“please Halfdan, I want you inside of me.”

I felt the head at my entrance, he slowly slid inside of me, both of us moaning at how each other felt. Halfdan wasted no time, starting to thrust into me, hard and slow at first before getting faster and faster. His fingers made my skin sting as he gripped at it, pulling me back and forth harshly. At one point he stopped, pushing my knees together to make me even tighter. 

“Fuck, Halfdan!” I cried out, head shoved into the bed as I clung onto the furs beneath me.“You’re so good!”

He slapped my arse.“You feel so good! Shit, I’m going to cum.”

“Not yet.” I managed to say, somehow crawling away from him.

I already missed the feeling him inside of me. Moving further up the bed, I rolled onto my back, opening my legs for him. He climbed onto the bed, lining himself up with me again. Halfdan laid on top, kissing me as he slid inside again, his fast pace picking up again. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pined my arms down. It was intense, he was looking down at me as he continued to fuck me. I held eye contact with him for as long as I could, but the pleasure was all too much. As I got close, I threw my head back, crying out his name. He cried out as he came inside of me, but kept thrusting to finish me off. Sitting up, he put my legs over his shoulders, reaching down to rub my clit to send me over the edge. My legs shook as I came, screaming out his name one last time.

He gently lowered my legs, enjoying how much they were still shaking and how sensitive everything felt. He laid beside me, pulling me close to him and kissing me softly. 

“That was fucking amazing.” I breathed out, cuddling close to him.

“You’ve been bad today, on purpose.” he smirked.

“Yes.” I giggled.“But isn’t the sex worth it?”

He reluctantly smiled.“Yes.”

“I like teasing you. Have you noticed I’ve got better over the years?”

“Indeed you have. but you learnt from the best. Look at you, you’re still shaking.”

He cupped me, and I winced, clutching onto his arm.“Yes. Just a few more minutes.”

“Hm?”

“You didn’t think that was it did you?”

“Oh, there’s more?”

“Tut tut Halfdan. You grow tired in your old age.”

He suddenly straddled me again.“I’ll show you old age.”

[hellsbedroom]

NSFW Alphabet // Peter Parker

peter parker x reader

*peter is an adult here.

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Talk about basking in the glow. Peter smiles with his eyes still shut and his chest heaving as he presses a kiss to your cheek and collapses next to you. “God, you always feel amazing,” he whispers hoarsely. But soon he’s grabbing your hand and tugging you along with him for the next part. You trot to the bathroom to get cleaned up and then it’s onto the kitchen to pick out snacks — you both prefer to do aftercare together, where you can still enjoy each other’s company and laugh all the while.

B = Body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

He appreciates his arms. Sometimes he forgets it but he’s very strong (sorry about the accidental punch, Flash) and his arms do so much of the Spider-Man acrobatics. Hugging you is one of his favorite feelings in the world and his arms take care of that, too. And the best of both worlds is when he’s clutching you as he swings both of you high above the New York skyline.

For you? He adores your neck. It’s his favorite spot to hide his face when he needs a break from all the pressure and you welcome him with open arms. Your soft skin against his cheek calms him immediately. Your neck is also a place where he can so easily affect you with a kiss or his teeth. The sweetest little sound comes from your throat when he brushes his lips along your neck and he can’t get enough of it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

When you’re protected by a condom or birth control etc., Peter prefers to cum inside you. Being completely tangled up in each other is an unmatched feeling and he loves cumming when his hips are lodged all the way against yours. But sometimes you let him cum down your chin and throat when you give him a blowjob and he’ll look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

D = Dirty secret (an interesting dirty secret of theirs)

His senses are dialed up to eleven, remember? So he can sense everything about you. When your heartbeat quickens, when your skin heats up, when you’re that close to the edge. And he uses it to his advantage. He knows exactly when you’re ready to go from Netflix to chill with a single glance. When he tries something new — a smack to your ass or grabbing your wrists a little harder — and your heart skips a beat, it’s game on. And don’t get him started on knowing that your climax is near. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he’ll murmur, knowing full well what he’s doing to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This is the internet age. So while Peter may have been too busy with school and saving the world to get a lot of experience, he’s knowledgeable as hell. And god is he eager to learn how to apply it to you. After a little trial and error and a lot of communication, he’ll know exactly what he’s doing. And while he’s sometimes surprised by your reactions, it’s never a bad thing. He just smirks and tucks the little piece of information away in his mind. 

F = Fantasy (what’s their favorite fantasy/roleplay?)

Grateful damsel in distress. All you have to do is squeeze his arms or cup his cheek and say, “My hero,” and he’s suddenly keen to show you just the kind of hero he is under the suit. He’ll play it up in public by swinging by you unexpectedly and scooping you into his arms, making you yelp and cling to him. You’re very grateful for your very own Spider-Man and are not afraid to show him just that ;)

G = Goofy (are they more serious or goofy in the moment?)

Peter is a goofy and playful guy, especially with foreplay. He’s the king of turning tickle fights into makeout sessions into everything else. Even when he’s bossing you around or his voice has turned husky with pleasure, he’s got a smile on his face when he slides into you. That being said, he’s also smart as a whip and as soon as he can tell you’re really enjoying yourself, he’ll get a little more serious. How could he not stare in awe at the way your head tips back and your mouth drops open in pleasure.

H = Hair (how groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

He’s well groomed and likes to keep it that way. It feels cleaner.

I = Intimacy (how are they in the moment, romantic aspect)

Very intimate. In the rest of his life he always has to have a persona — as Spider-Man, as regular Peter Parker, etc. — so when he’s with you? As your Peter? It’s all about the intimacy, baby. Asking how you’re doing while pulling off each other’s clothes. Kissing you relentlessly and feeling his bare skin against yours. Even on nights when you’re being rougher with each other he wants to keep you close, to bore his eyes into you as he forgets the rest of the world. 

J = Jackoff (about masturbation)

He’ll do it regularly if he’s away on missions but you’re the real deal and that’s what he prefers. You’re not afraid to send him pictures and videos letting him know just how much you miss him, as long as you get a video of him jacking off in return.

K = Kink (any kinks)

Bondage — his webbing, specifically. You discover it accidentally when he’s being impatient and webs your hand to the wall, making you gasp when you look at him indignantly. His eyes darken when he sees you unable to move or retaliate and now it’s common to find the remnants of webbings on your bed posts. He likes it when you pull his hair, especially if it’s followed by a bite to his neck, because Peter Parker shows off hickies like they’re trophies. Edging goes both ways in your relationship. Being able to keep you on edge by sensing it is one of his many talents, but he also loves it when you bring him to climax achingly slow.

L = Location (favorite place to do it)

A bedroom, with all the doors locked. He’s had enough surprises throughout his life and he just wants some privacy when he’s with you. It doesn’t really matter which bedroom (your place, his quarters at the Avengers compound, etc.) as long as it’s sealed off and has a bed that gives him plenty of room to explore you. For a quickie, however...the Quinjet parked in the compound garage is a new favorite.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Peter loves seeing you focus. Whether it’s your eyes flitting around your computer screen or the way you pull your lip between your teeth when you’re concentrating hard, he can’t help but want to provide a distraction. But the way to turn him on out of nowhere is to act innocent when you know you’re not. You’ll slide your foot up his leg at a dinner with other Avengers while your facial expression doesn’t change. Or you’ll send him a wink when you bend over in public to pick something up, and in the next second you’re chatting with someone else like nothing happened. He loves to play along, innocently teasing you right back until you’re ready to pounce on each other the moment you’re alone.

N = NO (something they won’t do, turn offs)

Choking you, because he’s scared of his own strength.

O = Oral (giving and receiving)

Loverboy is a giver. He loves having you writhe underneath him and sensing your heart racing and hearing the little (or loud) sounds you make. He’s talented with his tongue and it fucking shows, you barely have to give him instructions before he figures out exactly what motions affect you the most. His voice drops the deepest when he’s going down on you, saying how good you taste or how good it must feel. Webbing your hands up is also usually part of this scenario...

But the loss of control when you go down on him is intoxicating. He’ll never ask for a blowjob (he’ll only “tell” you to when bossing you around is part of the plan) so you often surprise him with one, making him grin like a Cheshire cat. Digging your nails into his thighs will have him cumming the quickest, by the way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Peter’s in between the two. He’s eager and while he does rush to get his hands all over your body, he never skips proper foreplay. His touch will be rougher if he’s freshly back from a mission and needs to forget it all but even then he’s still slower and more sensual when finally thrusting into you. 

Q = Quickie (opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It’s part of the superhero gig. Either there’s just not enough time or too many goddamn people in the Avengers facility or your school or job makes late nights full of work instead of time with your boyfriend. In that case you’d both rather have a quickie than nothing at all, so you can expertly push each other’s buttons to make it work (even though his suit can make it tough). Peter’s adamant that you orgasm even during a quickie so it’s not a waste of your time, and honestly you do have fun with the rush of it all. However, quickies are not what he prefers. He’s with you because he’s in love with your mind and every inch of your body and having to rush through sex isn’t as worshipful as being able to take his time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment?)

Later on in the relationship, yes. He’ll bring up things he hears friends talking about or what he finds on late-night internet dives for y’all to try. He also likes to play the game “how many New York rooftops can we fuck on” because what else are proper Spider-Man dates about?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

He’s superhuman, including his strength and stamina. Not only is picking you up a breeze (the guy can throw school buses so getting you up and onto a bed or counter is completely doable) but he can go for as many rounds as you want. He usually doesn’t have a problem lasting a while before he cums but if he does, he just makes sure to focus on you until you’re even.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Peter Parker? Basically the son of technological wizard Tony Stark? Using toys? Duh. He refuses to let Tony give him any toys or advice but he likes trying out new ones with you. The first time you let him use your vibrator on you he couldn’t stop smiling at how easily it affected you. And turning that vibrator on him made him the loudest you’d ever heard in bed. Also he’s not opposed to buying those sets of fluffy pink handcuffs, gloves, feathers, blindfolds, etc. Why not have it all on hand?

Side note: yes, there are Spider-Man themed sex toys and no, Peter does not want them anywhere near you. He’ll fuck you in the suit or use the webbing of his own making, thank you very much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s a surprise to you the first time you get really frisky with him — but Peter’s a tease. He can sense your desperation, after all, and he likes it. Irking you and making you “be patient, please” as he riles you up gives him a rush. He knows just where to kiss and suck to make you whine and there’s a rumble from deep in his throat as he chuckles at your anguish when he moves away too fast.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He talks a lot during foreplay, teasing you and praising you and asking, “feels good, yeah?” As things get hotter and heavier he turns to panting and gasping. It’s never very loud but the constant rumble of his contented moans lets you know that he’s enjoying exactly how you make him feel. But the strangled cry when he cums, that’s your favorite sound in the whole world. Especially if he’s crying out your name.

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

Seeing you in lingerie: Peter’s a sucker for a good lingerie set and will drop whatever he’s holding when he catches sight of you. His hands immediately brush over the lace or satin or silk as he pulls you to straddle his thighs and his gaze devours you. “For me, hm?” he murmurs, and you nod proudly. He’s not the type to rip it off you — he’ll fondle and finger and fuck you around the saucy little outfit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s in those pants)

Long, like enough that it takes some getting used to. Average girth but a big tip. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Peter’s a busy guy and his attention is always being pulled in many directions but when you’re around he’s tuned in to you. So any time the opportunity for sex is on the table, he’s up for getting it in while he can (pun intended). Sometimes even hearing you laugh from the next room reminds him of times you laugh and gasp when he sucks on a certain spot on your skin, immediately making him want to do that again as soon as possible.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually you’re both out pretty fast afterwards — giving each other your all can be exhausting. As soon as the aftercare routine is complete and you’re tucked in his arms again you can feel sleep dragging at your eyes, especially if Peter is tracing his fingers along your skin. A few times your post-sex sleep has been so deep that Peter misses an Avenger’s call, meaning they’ve walked in on you two curled up in the sheets more than once.

[nerdythebard]

#9: Sypha Belnades [Castlevania]

Happy Castlevania Day, everyone!

We continue our little special with everybody's favourite Speaker, a self-proclaimed enemy of God, and all-around nerd – Sypha Belnades. Wielding magic, knowledge, and somehow keeping Trevor and Alucard in check, it's going to be fun to have her in your D&D game.

Next Time: ...I mean, y'all know who is left. The Cool Whip Man cometh!

So, what do we need to start shooting some spells (besides a lovely Spanish accent)?

Big Brain Time: Sypha is a Speaker, a collector of knowledge, and a walking library with expertise ranging from magic, history, and probably anything you can think of. And even more, because "we know all the words".

A Song of Ice & Fire: These two seems to be Sypha's weapons of choice. We've seen her do other feats of sorcery, but it's usually fire bolts or ice walls we see the most.

Limber! Loose! Rubber Goose!: Sypha doesn't wear any armour and is able to keep up with Trevor and Alucard, both obviously Dexterity-based fighters. If we can't give her some Hit Points, we'll make sure she can avoid danger.

---

Sypha is a Human (hooray, our first Human!) and her magic prowess gives us a good excuse to make her a Variant Human. We get a +1 to two abilities of our choice, let's pick Intelligence and Constitution. We also know Common and one other language, and we get to pick one skill proficiency, let's get Investigation. Variant Humans can also get one feat from the start; War Caster is a great idea for any spellcaster who finds themselves in the heat of battle. We have an advantage on Constitution saving throw to maintain our concentration, we can use somatic components of the spell with just one hand, and when we get to make an attack of opportunity, we can cast a spell instead of making a melee attack.

For Sypha's background, I don't think we can do anything but Sage. We're smart, we've been studying history and arcane arts our entire life, and therefore we get proficiency with Arcana and History. We get to learn two languages of our choice, and we get the Researcher feature; we have a rough idea where a piece of information we're looking for could be located, whether it's a library, archive, or somebody's residence.

ABILITY SCORES

It goes without saying that Intelligence goes first here, we need the smarts for the spells. Next up is Dexterity, we are good enough to keep up with both Trevor and Alucard, and not get easily surprised by night creatures. Constitution is next, every spellcaster needs those precious Hit Points.

Wisdom is next, we're much more the book-smart type, but we've certainly picked up some street-smarts while travelling with our whole clan. Follow that up with Charisma, it's a little lower than I would like it to be, but we occasionally get to make Trevor do what we want to. Finally, we'll be dumping Strength.

CLASS

I think nobody will be surprised if I say this is a pure build. We're going Wizard start-to-finish.

Wizards are the squishiest of squishy bois in D&D, as their Hit Dice is a d6. We start with [6 + our Constitution modifier] Hit Points and no proficiencies with any armour type. We are, however, proficient with daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, and light crossbows. Our saving throws are, of course, Intelligence and Wisdom, and we get to pick two class skills; let's get Insight (to better spot shady activities in towns we visit) and Religion (God may hate us, but you know what they say - know thy enemy).

Level 1 - We start with Arcane Recovery, which is a useful trick to recover spell slots. Once per day, when we finish a short rest, we can refill our expended spell slots. The combined level of the spell slots must be equal to or less than half of our Wizard level... which means for a while we'll be only recovering 1st-level spells...

Since we're a Wizard, we start off with Spellcasting. We know cantrips, ritual casting, and regular spells. Intelligence is our spellcasting ability, and we learn two new spells each time we level up. We start this arcane jamboree with three cantrips:

Fire Bolt lets us hurl a mote of fire at one target. Simple. Effective. On a successful hit, the enemy takes 1d10 fire damage (damage increases as we level up).

Ray of Frost is similar, the basic ice spell. On a successful hit, the target takes 1d8 cold damage (scales with level), and its speed is reduced by 10 feet until the start of our next turn.

Shocking Grasp sends a jolt of electricity through one target we touch. If a target wears armour made of metal, we make the attack roll with advantage. On a successful hit, the target takes 1d8 lightning damage (scales with level) and cannot take reactions until the start of its next turn.

Wizards start with two 1st-level spell slots and six 1st-level spells:

Burning Hands creates a 15-foot cone of fire. All creatures within range have to make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 3d6 fire damage (half damage on a successful save).

Detect Magic lasts for 10 minutes (concentration) and shows us all magical effects within 30 feet of us. We see the magic as colourful aura around objects or people, and we can distinguish which type of magic the effect belongs to (we cannot identify the spell itself).

Frost Fingers creates blasts of cold coming from our fingertips. Each creature within a 15-foot cone must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 2d8 cold damage (half damage on a successful save).

Ice Knife creates a shard of ice that we can throw at one target, dealing 1d10 cold damage on a successful hit. Hit or miss, the shard then explodes, forcing every creature within 5 feet of it to make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 2d6 cold damage.

Mage Armour makes our defence better. Touching a willing creature (or ourselves), we create a layer of magical protection that makes the AC [13 + Dexterity modifier] for 8 hours.

Shield is used as a reaction when we're being hit. The spell adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.

Level 2 - It is here that we pick our subclass, our Arcane Tradition, and since Sypha is such a powerful necromancer, I think it's only natural to–

Yeah, we're obviously picking School of Evocation, as it's the one focusing on the elements. Everything that burns, freezes, and shocks are here, and we need all of it.

We start this subclass with Evocation Savant, which halves our time and gold needed to copy evocation-type spells into our spellbook. I know Speakers don't believe in the written word, but Sypha always valued books, so she would probably have one in D&D.

Sculpt Spells lets us protect our allies from our own spells if they happen to be in their range. When we cast an evocation spell, we can select a number of creatures we can see equal to [1 + the spell's level], make them automatically succeed on a saving throw (if required), and take no damage at all.

For this level's spells:

Feather Fall protects us and our allies from taking fall damage. We choose up to five creatures within 60 feet of us and slow down their descent rate to 60 feet per round for 1 minute. If the creature lands before the spell end, it takes no damage.

Jump triples the jump distance of a creature we touch for 1 minute.

Level 3 - At this level, we get no new class features, but we do unlock 2nd-level spell slots:

Agnazzar's Scorcher creates a 30 feet long and 5 feet wide line of fire, emanating from us in the direction we choose. Each creature within the line must make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 fire damage (half damage on a successful one).

Gust of Wind makes a strong line of wind (60 feet long, 10 feet wide) blast from us in the direction we choose. Creatures that start their turn in the line must make a Strength saving throw or be pushed 15 feet away from us. As a bonus action, on each of our turns, we can change the direction of the wind.

Level 4 - We get our first Ability Score Improvement. Rule of thumb for any Wizard player: maxing out your Intelligence should be your priority, therefore we're putting +2 to our Intelligence now.

We also get a new cantrip: Dancing Lights create up to four globules of light, floating in the air. We can move them around, and they last up to 1 minute (concentration). The lights can also combine into a Medium-sized glowing humanoid, for purposes of distraction.

We get two more spells:

Scorching Ray creates three bolts of fire, which we can hurl at up to three targets. We make an attack roll for each bolt. On a hit, the target takes 2d6 fire damage.

Snilloc's Snowball Swarm forms a flurry of snowball-like projectiles in a point of our choice within 90 feet from us. Each creature within a 5-foot-radius sphere from the point must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 3d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 5 - We don't get any new class features here, but we do unlock 3rd-level spells:

Dispel Magic ends any spell of 3rd-level or lower. If a spell is of 4th-level or higher, we must roll a check for our casting ability (DC = 10 + the spell's level). If we use a spell slot of 4th-level or higher, the spell ends automatically, provided the spell slot's level matches or is greater than the spell's.

Fireball is a no-brainer, we had to pick it. Select a point within 150 feet from us. Each creature in a 20-foot-radius sphere must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 8d6 fire damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 6 - We get our first subclass upgrade, Potent Cantrip. If a creature makes a saving throw against our cantrips, they instead take half of the damage. Unfortunately, it's not helpful to us yet. Let's take some more spells:

Fly gives a willing creature flying speed of 60 feet for the duration (10 minutes, concentration). When the spell ends, the target starts falling. We can target more than one creature if we use spell slots of 4th-level or higher.

Lightning Bolt fires off a bolt of electricity in a 100 feet long and 5 feet wide line. Each creature in the line must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 8d6 lightning damage (half as much on a successful save).

Level 7 - Time to unlock 4th-level spell slots:

Control Water lets us manipulate a body of water within 300 feet of us. The spell lasts for 10 minutes (concentration) and we get to select from four different effects (Flood, Part Water, Redirect Flow, and Whirlpool); we can use our action on our turn to change the effect or repeat it.

Wall of Fire creates, well... a wall of fire within 120 feet from us. The wall can be up to 60 feet long, 20 feet high, and 1 foot thick. It lasts for 1 minute (concentration). We can select which way the heat from the fire is facing. When the wall is forming, creatures in its way must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 5d8 fire damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 8 - Time for another ASI. As per the rule of thumb, we need to cap our Intelligence ASAP. So, let's put +2 into it right now. As for our spells at this level:

Dimension Door creates a small spatial opening, which teleports us up to 500 feet in a direction of our choice we can visualize or describe. We can carry objects with us, as long as they don't go over our carrying capacity, and we can bring one willing creature with us.

Ice Storm creates a localized hailstorm in a 20-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder at a point within 300 feet of us. Each creature in the cylinder must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 2d8 bludgeoning damage and 4d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save). Hailstones turn the area into difficult terrain until the end of our next turn.

Level 9 - Nothing new class-wise. We unlock 5th-level spells:

Cone of Cold creates a 60-foot cone of biting cold. Each creature within its range must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 8d8 cold damage (half damage on a successful save). Creatures killed by this spell become frozen statues.

Hold Monster forces a Wisdom saving throw on one non-humanoid creature within 90 feet of us, and inflicts paralysis on a failed save. It lasts for 1 minute (concentration), but the held creature can keep making saving throws at the end of each of its turn to shake off the effect.

Level 10 - Halfway through the build, and we get another subclass upgrade. Empowered Evocation lets us add our Intelligence modifier to one damage roll of every evocation spell we cast. Since most of our repertoire is evocation-type spells, we now have a huge damage boost. For spells that create multiple projectiles (e.g. Scorching Ray), we add our Intelligence modifier only to one projectile.

We also get our final cantrip of this build: Frostbite makes numbing cold appear on one target's skin; they have to make a Constitution saving throw, or suffer 1d6 cold damage and have a disadvantage on the next weapon roll they make before the end of their next turn. Because of our Potent Cantrip feature, this spell always deals damage.

For this level's spells:

Counterspell... yes, I know it's 3rd-level, but we really do need it. Sypha is powerful enough to shut down Dracula's magic. It works similarly to Dispel Magic, but this time it's a reaction to somebody casting a spell, instead of a pre-established magical effect.

Immolation chooses one target within 90 feet of us and deals 8d6 fire damage, provided they fail their Dexterity saving throw (half damage on a successful save). On a failed save, the target is also set on fire for the spell's duration (1 minute, concentration). They shed bright light in a 30-foot radius and must keep making Dexterity saving throws at the end of each of their turns, or take 4d6 fire damage. On a successful save, the spell ends. The fire is magical and cannot be extinguished by non-magical means.

Level 11 - We unlock 6th-level spells here:

Chain Lightning creates an arc of electricity, which hits one target within 150 feet from us. It then splits into three bolts, which hit three closest creatures within 30 feet of the original target. All targets must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d8 lightning damage (half damage on a successful save).

Disintegrate works in a similar manner to Dispel Magic or Counterspell... except it's much more lethal. The spell targets a creature, an object, or a magical effect (such as a barrier made via the Wall of Force spell). A targeted creature must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d6+40 force damage. If their Hit Points are reduced to 0, the target is disintegrated to dust and cannot be brought back, unless via the True Resurrection or Wish spells.

Level 12 - Time for another ASI! Since our Intelligence is already maxed out, let's get our two points into Constitution, for those Hit Points we desperately need.

We get two more 6th-level spells:

Otiluke's Freezing Sphere is basically the ice version of Fireball. It creates a small ice ball in a point within 300 feet from us, which then explodes in a 60-feet-radius sphere. Each creature within the area must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 10d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save). We can also use the ice ball to freeze a body of water up to 6 feet deep and 30 feet square.

Wall of Ice does exactly what it says on the packaging. It creates ten 10x10 ice panels, which we can shape as we wish as long as the panels touch one another. Each panel as the AC of 12 and 30 Hit Points, and even if they're destroyed, they leave freezing air in their place. Creatures moving through the air must make a Constitution saving throw, or take 5d6 cold damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 13 - Once again, we get no class features, but we do unlock 7th-level spells:

Delayed Blast Fireball is the hand grenade option we need. We can select a point within 150 feet from us and plant a Fireball spell to be activated after 1 minute or if our concentration is broken. The spell creates a fiery explosion within a 20-feet-radius sphere, with the base damage of 12d6 fire. If by the end of our turn, the spell is not detonated, the damage increases by 1d6 each turn.

Prismatic Spray creates eight colourful lights and sends them out in a 60-foot cone. Each creature within range must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, we roll a 1d8 and decide which colour hits the creature. We have a choice between 10d6 elemental damage, blindness, paralysis, or two effects at once.

Level 14 - Here we get our final subclass upgrade, Overchannel. Once per long rest, when we cast a spell of level 1 through 5, we can decide to deal the maximum amount of damage that spell allows. If we choose to use this feature again before finishing a long rest, we suffer 2d12 necrotic damage per every level of the spell. Each time we use it after the second, the necrotic damage increases by 1d12.

We continue with 7th-level spells:

Teleport instantly teleports us and up to eight willing creatures (or one object) to any location we specify, depending on the degree of familiarity we have with it. The certain success is if there is a permanent Teleportation Circle in the location we want to appear, or if we have something associated with the location.

Whirlwind creates a violent wind storm in a point we can see within 300 feet of us. The whirlwind is a 10-foot-radius, 30-foot-high cylinder. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), we can use our Action to move the whirlwind up to 30 feet in any direction. Creatures that begin their turn in a whirlwind must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d6 bludgeoning damage (half damage on a successful save). In addition, a Large or smaller creature must make a Strength saving throw or be restrained inside the vortex.

Level 15 - Time for 8th-level spells:

Antipathy/Sympathy works as a repellent or... whatever the... opposite of a repellent... is. Attractor? It draws or pushes from us creatures of our specification for 10 days.

Control Weather changes weather patterns in 5 mile radius from us for up to 8 hours (concentration). We must be outdoors when performing the spell, and we can select precipitation, temperature, and the state of winds.

Level 16 - For this ASI this time, we'll put two points into Dexterity.

As for this level's spells:

Incendiary Cloud creates a 20-foot-radius sphere of smoke and embers in a point within 150 feet of us. When the cloud appears, creatures inside it must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 10d8 fire damage (half damage on a successful save). The same saving throw must be made by a creature who enters the cloud, or who ends its turn there.

Power Word: Stun work on creatures with 150 Hit Points of fewer and stuns them instantly. All those months of travel with Trevor turned us into quite a sailor-mouth, even night creatures are shocked.

Level 17 - Since Wizards are the Apex of the Arcane, we unlock the most powerful spells in the game right here!

Foresight gives a creature we touch a limited ability to see into the future for 8 hours. For that duration, the target cannot be surprised, and has an advantage on all rolls (attack, skill checks, and saving throws). Additionally, other creatures have a disadvantage against the target on all rolls for the duration.

Imprisonment requires a lot of materials, but it creates a permanent magical confinement that holds a one creature that fails its Wisdom saving throw. The imprisoned creature is being kept in suspended animation, and no Divination-type spell can locate it.

Level 18 - Here we get the Spell Mastery feature. It lets us choose one 1st-level spell and one 2nd-level spell, and cast them at will, without the need to burn a spell slot. Shield and Scorching Ray would be my picks.

Meanwhile, in the 9th-level spell section:

Gate is a portal spell, which creates two linked portals; one in front of us (within 60 feet), other in a location on another plane of existence. It lasts for 1 minute (concentration). We could also name a creature we know is on another plane, and yank it through the portal to our current location (for example, a certain Vampire Lord from Hell).

Meteor Swarm makes it rain fire from above. Choosing a spot within 1 mile, lets us cover a 40-foot-radius sphere in Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire! Each creature within the sphere must make a Dexterity saving throw, or take 20d6 fire damage and 20d6 bludgeoning damage (half damage on a successful save).

Level 19 - For our final ASI, we increase our Constitution.

As for the spells:

Prismatic Wall creates an opaque wall 90 feet long, 30 feet high, and 1 inch thick. The wall sheds bright light for 100 feet and a dim light for additional 100. Creatures within 20 feet of the wall must make a Constitution saving throw, or be blinded for 1 minute. The wall is composed of seven layers, each with different properties that affect creatures attempting to pass through it (see: Prismatic Spray for comparison).

Invulnerability makes you immune to all damage for 10 minutes (concentration).

Level 20 - Our capstone is the Signature Spell feature. We choose two 3rd-level spells, and make it so we always have them prepared. We can cast them once per short or long rest without burning a spell slot. Fireball is an obvious choice, and let's add either Dispel Magic or Counterspell. Both provide good support.

For our final spells:

Blade of Disaster creates a planar rift shaped like a blade. When we summon it, we can make two melee attacks on creatures or objects within 5 feet of the blade. On a successful hit, the target takes 4d12 force damage. This spell scores a critical hit when rolling 18, 19, or 20. On a critical hit, the blade deals extra 8d12 force damage. Think of the weird glass-like blades from Doctor Strange

Wish... Yes, we're getting Wish. Why wouldn't you get Wish? If used safely, it's the ultimate spell. It replicates the effect of any spell of 8th-level or lower, no need for material components or class affiliation. Alternatively, it can do... well, anything you desire, but keep in mind if it's used for something else than replicating a spell effect, there is a 33% you'll never cast it again.

---

And that is it. Sypha Belnades, the Avatar Speaker Magician. Let's see what we've got:

First of all, we've got damage. Damage on top of damage on top of more damage. We're very battlefield-oriented spellcaster. Unfortunately, most of our spells are fire and cold, two very common resistances or immunities. We have a lot of concentration spells, so we need to pick what we want to do. With 131 Hit Points on average, we're also squishy. Luckily, with Shield as our at will spell, we do have a pretty good AC.

---

And that is it! Join me next time, for the last member of the Castlevania OT3!

- Nerdy out!

[sepublic]

Disparity between the Knights of Ren and Kylo

           But something about the Knights of Ren, in contrast to their leader, is that they seem so much more… scrappy? Dirty, unorganized, but also used and worn-out, and thus genuine? Like they’ve really put themselves out there into the harsh work with rolled-up, tattered sleeves, and you get this sense of them actually being in the fray and on the frontlines.

           You’ve of course got their dirt-covered boots and whatnot, but also you have people like Vicrul or Cardo, who use the hides of animals as part of their attire… Ap’lek’s cloak is oiled to shed aside water, he’s clearly someone who works within the elements to take advantage of them as part of his stealth, they’re his dirty unglamorous home. Clearly the Knights of Ren do a lot of work putting together scrap metal, like you see with Ap’lek’s mask, Kuruk having those pieces bent around his helmet to help focus his vision, Cardo’s mask is just a repurposed furnace plate! Ushar’s mask has a straight-up dent in it that he’s never bothered to fix, even when he has access to Albrekh; Likely as a twisted memento of honor and tribute to the victim who inflicted the damage. Trudgen straight-up has part of a Death Trooper’s helmet incorporated into his own mask as well!

           Then you’ve got the Night Buzzard, which is dirty and grimy, and has received constant modifications, likely by Kuruk, that cause it to spew noxious gas. Vicrul’s pistol has also been pushed to its limits with alterations, and Cardo is obsessed with modifying and enhancing weapons, keeping them up to date and ready for the next battle; The Knights of Ren have weapons that are a more cold, dull steel and gray, not polished and refined. Their armor and outfits feel much more scratched-out and faded, used and worn in. You get the sense almost that they’re kind of like scavengers themselves, similar to Rey; Making do with what they find, not too focused on aesthetical neatness nor tidy appearance, just getting the point across, salvaging trophies from victories.

          And, it fits with their philosophy, the Ren- Which revolves around basically just living in the moment, unapologetically taking and consuming and resorting to nature and instinct… Letting the ‘Shadow’ guide and feed them, like they’re always on the fringe of society, gathering and appreciating what they can and making use of it, having to make the most of their tools, constantly altering and patching themselves up. They don’t have the access to the best resources, not fancy luxuries or anything like that; It’s almost rather working-class, I’d say! It of course matches with their origins as essentially criminals and a cult-ish biker gang, a ragtag group of mercenaries.

          Even their original, nameless leader kind of fits this more down-to-earth, cobbled-together aesthetic, with a gray mask that he’s customized with a red symbol, amidst the scratches; Not wearing much save for a tattered cloak and glove, and his pants and boots, and that’s about it! Nothing particularly polished nor clean. He’s dirty, roughed-up, and covered in scars, he has not gone unscathed and he doesn’t need to protect himself from the elements, he wears his damage and past on his (metaphorical) sleeve and possibly even has a cybernetic hand, to go with the Vader parallel that Charles Soule intended!

           All of this of course contrasts with Kylo Ren, who… His mask is clearly hi-tech, up-to-date, with a full-on vocoder and mechanical function that causes it to open up and close, possibly somewhat vacuum-sealed as well. The metal is polished and shiny, the mask a smooth, likely painted, matte black. His clothes are tidy and almost prince-like, made of what seems to be more comfortable and fancier cloth and fabrics, a nice deep black that’s clearly taken care of, shiny boots, the works. While the Knights of Ren make do with just their Night Buzzard and weapons they scrounge for, constantly patching up and honing them between battles to keep them almost good-as-new, Kylo Ren has his clean and sleek, modern ships supplied directly from the First Order; He’s got his command shuttle, the TIE Silencer, and at least two TIE Whisper’s.

           His vehicles have red, vibrant and glowing lights and paintjobs, and are likely the sleek pinnacle of First Order engineering, with Kuat and rich backers from Canto Bight to contribute to development. Kyle Ron probably has his entire team of engineers to prepare and take care of his ship before him, even before becoming Supreme Leader- Especially when he tells a pair of officers to prepare his TIE Silencer for him, even before he usurps Snoke. He was clearly the golden child throughout his life in a sense, born into a privileged, luxurious family with a lot of power and fame; And then serving Snoke, who himself had all of the inexplicably vast resources of the First Order behind him, invested everything into Kylo Ren’s training and upkeep… Kept him well-fed and taken care of (at least physically).

           Yeah, Kylo has trained vigorously, and his own lightsaber is a patchwork job, but that was built back when he was ‘just’ leader of the Knights of Ren, newly anointed, and before he’d started serving in the First Order; And as a major political influence, with a LOT of authority and power behind him, serving as a triumvirate alongside Hux and Phasma, right beneath Snoke himself! You get the sense that he always had something to fall back to, a comfortable safety net- That when all was said and done, he had a retinue of medical droids to patch him up, a team to keep his laundry nice and clean and ‘presentable’. That he always had his parents who were welcoming of him, trying to be patient, always offering him the opportunity to go back home; He had SO much, and yet he really threw it all away for some fantasy, didn’t he?

           Kylo Ren really comes across as like… A privileged rich kid, a pampered brat who doesn’t really know what it’s like to work out in the fringes, to have to constantly fight and kill just to survive, to be fed the next day. To not have the luxury of mindlessly destroying the hard work and machinery, the craft of others he’s taken for granted, every time he has a temper tantrum- Leaving people to clean up the mess and replace it good as new. The Knights of Ren couldn’t be so frivolous with THEIR resources, they had to make everything count, reuse and recycle, scavenge from scrap metal, tidy things up at least a little; But they didn’t have the luxury to make themselves sleek and polished, nor access to the most up-to-date technology of an entire military junta.

          They had to get their hands dirty and personal, all of the time, they didn’t have the pride and privilege to turn down jobs; They took whatever mercenary work was offered to stay fed and clothed. And yet they remained just as vigilant and dedicated to the Ren as ever, never wavering as far as we can tell; Even when their original leader was slain, they didn’t throw a fit, but just made do with the situation, accepted that this was all they had left, and had Kylo as their new master.

           While Kylo was no doubt living the high-life at the very top of the First Order pyramid, we rarely see the Knights of Ren, who don’t have Snoke’s personal precious attention and protection. They’re likely out there doing the dark, unknown and unglamorous dirty work, quietly coming back to restock and refuel, no ceremonies nor worship from Stormtroopers, most of whom seem to regard them in disgust as ‘Ghouls’. Unlike Kylo, they fully chose and accepted and embraced their roles, they provided their ‘good’ deaths and earned their spots within the group, not fighting it, not constantly lamenting and whining about how they deserved better, because anything is good.

          Even when Kylo Ren became Supreme Leader, it seems that for whatever reason, the Knights of Ren didn’t embrace the new resources at their disposal- Did Kylo not bother to take care of them, or were they just so used to working as scrappy little mercenaries, that the high-end luxuries of the First Order somewhat bothered them? That they preferred to keep doing things as they did, that this organized, political and polished structure wasn’t for them. Hux regards them as distasteful for it, but while he and Kylo have entire armies and servants at their beck and call and disposal, the Knights of Ren have only themselves and each other to carry out the missions assigned to them, and they do their tasks silently, dutifully, and without complaint.

           To contrast, Kylo Ren has a much cleaner, brighter aesthetic, flashy and red like his lightsaber, and later the Sarrassian iron that puts together the fragments of his helmet. He’s a leader, a political figure, who intentionally draws attention to himself as the heir to Vader, he thinks he’s entitled to Anakin’s lightsaber, and can afford to draw attention to himself, he wants it. But the Knights of Ren, they have to be practical and dark, hiding to survive, Ap’lek especially, although of course some manner of exception is made with Ushar and Cardo. It’s not like they’re just hunters, but also prey as well, like the Mandalorian coverts… Their dirtied, roughened-up appearance, more battered and humble like what you would see with the Millenium Falcon, paints the Knights of Ren as more underdogs than their leader.

           In essence, you get this sense of privileged disconnect between the Knights of Ren and Kylo; That he’s this bourgeoisie rich kid, whose parents bought him everything, that he never REALLY had to work for things, there was no genuine struggle nor danger for him. Work and training may as well have been a hobby for him, he can afford to throw things away, while for the Knights of Ren it very much is a matter of survival, life or death. And with how Kylo wants to join them for some reason after leaving the Jedi Order, even though he only had ONE encounter where they tried to kill him, Luke, and Lor San Tekka; And all their previous leader did was just leave an open invitation…

           And again, you get the idea that Kylo Ren has this idealized, glamorous, almost fetishizing and romanticized view of what it’s like to be a Knight of Ren, that it’s some cool club to join- And not a genuine, forged-in-fire, rigorous existence. That it’s tough and painful and very much a deliberate choice, not something done lightly and for fun, which he finds out when he tries to join them for ‘comradery’ I suppose, only to be oh-so shocked at seeing them kill people, as if he hadn’t always known this. Kylo Ren didn’t really want to be a Knight of Ren, just his cool idea and fun of what it’d be like, how he doesn’t REALLY want the Empire back, just the idealized version of the past. He’s a pampered brat playing pretend, so psyched up for the dream of the job, but when he actually has to do the hard work and unglamorous parts, he caves and hesitates, while the actual Knights of Ren roll their eyes, because of course this little kid does. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into, he’s so dumb and naïve and reckless.

           It’s telling that the Knights of Ren have no issues working with Albrekh, an alien, especially because they know they can’t afford to be picky with their allies and friends, beggars can’t be choosers; While Kylo “My parents didn’t love me enough” Ron is willing to kill an officer for asking a reasonable question, and throws aside all of the people in his life that he takes for granted. Similarly, the only person resembling an alien that we see Kylo Ren actually work with is Snoke, whom he hated and eventually killed, and even Snoke was at least part-human, so given his worship of the Empire, and Kylo Ren likely looks down on non-humans.

           Not to mention, with how Kylo sometimes refers to Rey as ‘the scavenger’, and you get this sense of like… disdain from him towards her more humble, downright impoverished, background and conditions of her home life, and the way she had to keep herself fed. And you can’t help but wonder if the Knights of Ren picked up on this, that part of the reason they never enjoyed the First Order’s resources was because they knew that they didn’t belong in this neat and tidy, posh hierarchy of political society and advanced tech; That they were regarded as savage monsters and ghouls by the First Order, dirty and unkempt. Their own leader didn’t really know or understand them, he only had leadership by virtue of power and affinity to the Dark Side, but not much else; And he was constantly fighting the Dark Side, always in the hand of Snoke, never really leading the Knights of Ren alongside them as equals and comrades like their past leader.

           He probably didn’t care for, nor appreciate them- Kylo probably even looked down on them, even! Not fully and openly, but there was likely this implicit disdain and disgust… Or at the very least, he made an ‘exception’ to them, but with how he regarded scavengers and lower-class people like them… The Knights of Ren could only wonder just how conditional his tolerance was. He praised and elevated them, borderline glorified and romanticized; But he could never truly be one of them, he never knew what it was like, he had no idea, he could only guess and play pretend, and never admit that truth. There was a growing disconnect, likely a dissatisfaction between the Knights of Ren towards Kylo, and it just worsened with his agendas with Rey, forcing them to do the work of capturing her by themselves, forgetting the Knights in his own confrontations, etc.

           Kylo didn’t really feel like one of them, like a part of them- He saw himself as elevated and separate, more like lapdogs and attacks dogs, tools to point in a direction, not true brothers-in-arms on the same level, regardless of leadership role. And this ignorance, this subtle lack of regard and attention, quickly abandoning the Knights of Ren to focus on his drama with his parents, Luke, Snoke, and Rey… It must’ve been frustrating and alienating for the Knights of Ren.

          The closest Kylo ever got was when he repaired his shattered helmet using Albrekh himself, with the dented and scratched-up look more akin to them, uniting the aesthetic more… But again, there was always that fancy, graceful training from Luke and Snoke, and his special little lightsaber. Then the attention from Palpatine… And when he had to go to Exegol, when he confronted Rey, Kylo never did so with the Knights of Ren, because he never truly trusted nor felt like they had his back, he never truly saw himself as one of them, and didn’t think it necessary to bring them alone, to include them all.

           They weren’t special, chosen ones with the cool bloodlines and parentage that gave them special innate talent and Force powers, they were more like Voe if anything else. The Knights of Ren had force-sensitivity, but it was stunted and much weaker than Kyle’s natural, unearned talent and gifts; Everything they got, they had to fight and train and work for, self-taught and without the guidance of some wiser leader, because I doubt Kylo trained his own Knights either. Their fighting style is more brutal and utilitarian, with the use of a wide variety of tools and actual blasters- The Knights of Ren had to make a name for themselves, carve out their own reputation, because they started from nothing, and their original leader best exemplifies this with his lack of name, the closest being the title of Ren that he shares with everyone else anyway.

           The Knights of Ren didn’t have a special destiny, nor a bond as part of some sacred, prophesized dyad- If anything, they were more like Rey, before THAT reveal… Just lowly nobodies who had to make a name for themselves, stumbled across their own version of found family in a sense- Did what they needed to survive, had to go through the grueling agony of existence on their own. They actively looked for new members to add into their group, other lowly and despised criminals and others of society, as could’ve been the case with Karrst. There was no special place for them within the story, and yet they were still relegated to doing nameless, thankless jobs and tasks, not even acknowledged individually, and forgotten and abandoned by even their own leader, for some stranger he’d just met.

          When he turned to the Light Side, did their time together mean nothing for Ben to leave them- Of course it did, because there wasn’t REALLY anything there, and he never tried, or at least never could’ve understood, and never realized this from the position he was in. He tried to force his way in and it just created this uncomfortable, begrudging toleration by the Knights of Ren, until finally their resentment boiled up and bubbled over and burst; And they took their sweet time, vengefully confronting their former leader and beating him up slowly, because they wanted this to hurt. They wanted him to know what it was like to be beaten down with no hope, with no glimpse of light, nobody to pick him up and comfort him, no luxury nor resources or sacred destiny; To have only darkness and shadow to hide and thrive in, to embrace and become grateful towards… As they scrounged up and kept fighting, determined, not entitled by any parentage or destiny, but because they simply chose to keep biting and survive.

           Nobody seemed to care nor remember the Knights of Ren, they were just disposable tools for everyone, except their original leader, who really did seem to be on amicable relationship with them; Addressing them by name, in a casual manner that alluded to past comradery and shared knowledge, bonding… Someone they felt safe actually speaking up and talking to, asking questions instead of silently waiting for orders and accepting things as they were. There was no special Force powers, for they did not expect anything from the Shadow, and when they did receive, they made sure to venerate it in return, for of course this was owed back, they had to pay back the force that guided and fed them.

          They had a gratitude, and as their Ren codified, the Knights learned to disregard societal norms and obligations, and attitudes, and just live, doing what they needed to survive. No apologies, no glorifications, they just were, that’s all they wanted and needed. Obviously this independent, not-caring-what-anyone-thinks attitude was no doubt ‘cool’ to a young Kylo Ren, which was why he wanted to join them, while misunderstanding so badly how the Knights of Ren even got to that point in the first place, and what came with this. Kylo kept being concerned about how others perceived and looked at him, because he was a sad, pathetic, insecure little child; While for the Knights of Ren, it just didn’t matter.

          They could be hated, or beloved- It wasn’t important at all how others regarded them, because they didn’t heed how outsiders felt, they didn’t apologize nor account for their existence, didn’t try to justify anything. It was Us VS Them, they found solace in just each other, and recognized and prepared themselves for an entire world against them, anyone else as fair game and a potential enemy. Their prior leader rightfully regarded Kylo with suspicion, kept a cautious distance- So nothing was lost when they confronted Kylo on Exegol to kill him, no tears shed nor regrets made whatsoever, besides having not done this sooner.

           But of course, special Ben Solo gets his redemption or whatever, he gets his spotlight and glory as he saves the day, or at least sort of tries to contribute. He is glorified by the narrative and likely in-universe, venerated for his ‘noble’ turn and sacrifice, especially by the real-life fandom; But the Knights of Ren, nobody cares for them. And it doesn’t matter- They’re used to it, they’ve learned to accept and adapt, this is just the normal status quo for them. They don’t need veneration nor hatred, they’re just here to get through the day and only focus on what matters, themselves and each other.

           …In that sense, with all of this meta about the Knights of Ren being more like ‘nobodies’, poor and scavenging, having to work for things; And Rey, the contradictions of her character be damned, feels like she’d be a more welcome fit as a new leader than Kylo. Maybe there could be an AU where she joins them, and the Knights of Ren bond with this new kid, this little sibling, who’s a dirty feral gremlin like them who likes to scavenge and experiment, modify, messily and shoddily cobble stuff together.

          I do have to wonder if Rey calling herself a nobody, initially intended at one point to have no special place nor destiny in the narrative, besides the one she made for herself with her found family- If that was meant to be a parallel to the Knights of Ren and their former leader, who also calls himself a nobody, and goes by no distinctive name himself. I can only imagine, but I bet that a Dark Side Rey would be a much more attentive, down-to-earth, and ultimately preferable leader to the Knights of Ren, as someone who actually bonds with and understands them, and learns to value them; To the point where if she DID make a turn to the Light, she’d probably invite them to come with her out of concern, and the Knights of Ren would be touched enough to even consider, or at least spare, Rey…

           At the very least, I don’t think Rey would immediately throw them aside like the garbage they always were, because she was good now and too enlightened and heroic to be level with these evil monsters; She knew someone who was a masked ‘monster’ himself, Finn, and she fell in love and found acceptance with him, and vice-versa. Rey, for better or worse, has the patience to reach out and give others the benefit of the doubt, to hope for them, to not hypocritically condemn, for she knows her own mistakes and weaknesses as well… So I think the Knights of Ren in this AU would be much more likely to be touched- And that even if they were to lash against a reformed Rey, it’d come from a genuine sense of hurt and betrayal, grief and loss; And not just a relieved desire to get rid of this pesky brat that’s been bugging them for the past several years.

[some-dr-writings]

Kokichi, Rantaro and Shuichi x SHSL Gambler Reader

Kokichi Oma:

·       “Hey, HEY! Come play with me!” “Hmm? I didn’t know Hope’s Peak allowed children to join. Sure little boy, we can play a game. What will it be today? Cards? Chips?”

·       The pair of you were quite the intimidating pair. There was this palpable smugness about you that you loved teasing others with. Embarrassing or frustrating others is a great tactic to distract them after all. You were an opportunist taking advantage of every last moment, any weakness for yourself. All this and more immediately drew Kokichi’s attention, and so, he knew he had to get your attention, which was easy, all he had to do was ask to play with you. But… “Hey! Take this seriously!” “… I don’t see why though. You have nothing to offer me. And don’t say you’ll bet your juice box, I’d never take candy from a baby, well… in a literal sense at least.” You chuckled recalling your countless, effortlessly won victories. Kokichi could already tell you were going to be fun to be with. You were on par with him when it came to misleading others and that thirst for merriment. “A date.” “Oh?” “Nishishi, if I win, you go on a date with me, and if you win I’ll do whatever you want for a day.” “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, I don’t know…” Your poker face was that charmingly smug smile, an expression he was already growing tired of, he wanted to see more of you.

·       Both of you loving fun in all it’s forms were practically magnetized to one another, knowing the other was restless and would inevitably start some trick or game that’d liven up the world.

·       No matter how many times Kokichi tried, it seemed he could never beat you in any card-based game, even ‘go fish’ all of which only strengthened his resolve to win. Quickly you stopped making bets, the challenge against your boyfriend, one of the few who seemed to stand a chance against you was enough.

·       ‘little boy’, you couldn’t help but smile seeing how Kokichi always reveled in that nickname you gave him, playing up his childish antics because of it. You were likely the only person outside of D.I.C.E. who found his antics endearing.

·       Often times the pair of you would get into lying competitions trying to see who could make the most believable lie and actually convince the other of it. It was perfect practice.

·       A pair of fun seeking liars like yourselves, it was as if you were destined for one another.

   Rantaro Amami:

·       Protecting you was Rantaro’s main goal in life aside from finding his sisters. You, the Super High School Level Gambler had gotten your title not through being lucky or even good at bluffing for these games. No, you were the Super High School Level Gambler because you would bet ANYTHING in ANY game. Didn’t matter what it was, you lived for the thrill of taking chances, not knowing what the outcome would be. This… got you into so much trouble, especially when you played with those who figured out they could take advantage of this and get you to do things like do their chores for a month or act as their personal maid. You even almost lost your entire life savings once. At least things were never boring with you.

·       At times your boldness did come in handy though. You always insisted on joining Rantaro in his travels, saying he was too relaxed. You never let anything get in your way, often making bets and in exchange for you winning, gaining passage in some unallowed area, which surprisingly worked a good chunk of the time. You never took bullshit from anyone and would destroy the reputation for any who dared to cheat, saying that ruined the sanctity and basis for playing such risky games in the first place. That boldness seeped into most aspects of you actually, it was as if you had no fear… or maybe you just never thought things through. “It’s called a calculated risk!” “Uh, Honey… Just be careful.” “I already am, but the games are no fun if we don’t go all out!” Rantaro thought that being underaged, sneaking into a casino so you could gamble for some more money was rather risky in and of itself, but this was rather calm for you.

·       You were semi responsible however, refusing any gifts of money from Rantaro, saying you’d feel guilty for placing that on the line. You only ever bet yourself and your property, only exclusion was any gifts from others. You also never kept any rewards, “I don’t care about that, I just want to play! But people are more likely to play if there’s something on the line. They chose to bet me items, I never ask for anything in return for my bet.” You always gave your rewards away in fact, acting as a philanthropist, after meeting Rantaro, the majority of those going into searching for his sisters. Items, money, services, didn’t matter, you gave it all away to charities, hospitals, even friends if not your boyfriend. You even specifically went gambling for their sake, overhear someone was short a little money at lunch? A few days later you give them a thousand dollars. Many would think you simply were searching for excuses to play, but Rantaro knew better, sure you like the game, but when it was for a friend you always tried your best, putting everything on the line to keep playing just to help them.

·       You were reckless but so kind. At times it was a bit much to rein you in and keep you from losing everything, but he adored you, a selfless individual who knew how to stand up for themselves, he could maybe even learn a thing or two from you. You were his irreplaceable partner, and he loved you, just wanting to make sure you didn’t completely screw yourself over.

   Shuichi Saihara:

·       Honesty, that was the most important thing in your relationship with one another. The moment after Shuichi first asked you out, you told him your secret. You were a cheater. Life was very rough for you, running away from a bad home and not wanting to go to an orphanage or worse be sent back, you ended up living with a guy who you helped cheat at games, which quickly turned to you going out on your own. You were a criminal, and you thought Shuichi deserved to know that before getting involved with you. This really touched him.

·       Even if you wanted to stop cheating, you had to keep going for the sake of attending Hope’s Peak and not getting kicked out for not improving. It was difficult at times to keep up the act, especially with Kokichi snooping around but Shuichi tried his best to protect you. Yes, what you were doing was illegal, but you didn’t want this, and… he wanted for you to have a chance at a better life beyond the lies and sleight of hand trickery you pulled, and what better place to find that than Hope’s Peak.

·       Shuichi tried helping you find other occupations that could use your… specific skill set. In the end, you became an assistant to Shuichi, a legal assistant. You could read people, instantly spot their ticks, snuff out their lies with your own lies. Having gotten fake documents so you could live on your own at much too young of an age, you knew how and where people could forge such sheets. Any area Shuichi may struggle in or knowledge of how criminals may go about things, you were there to lead him in the right direction. Knowing how to avoid the law, you knew it rather well and acted as a good pretend lawyer, pointing out how a lawyer would look at the evidence and point out if the criminal would escape consequences or not, even with Shuichi’s investigation. You even taught Shuichi how to fake confidence in himself which helped him to gain real confidence.

·       Even after years you still relied on one another, supporting the other as best you could. You still went gambling on occasion to keep face as the ex-Super High School Level Gambler, but you only won sometimes. If you did get anything you showered Shuichi in gifts, loving how flustered he got. You were eternally grateful for all he had done for you and you were determined to make his life as great as you could in return for giving you the safe stability you never could find before.

[umblebumble]

Dragon Age: Inquisition Daemons

So here’s another group daemon selection. I make my choices based off of a mix of analysis (The Daemon Forum is my favourite spot, link) and general vibe as well as plot/thematic things. For this, a lot of inspiration has come from fanfiction I’ve read where the daemon choice just makes sense. There will be minor spoilers for these characters personal plot arcs. Please let me know what you think, and share your own headcannons!

*As a note I tend to pick more mammals than anything else and I am working on widening my selections, but I still run very mammal-centric.

Solas - Common Raven. Raven’s are very clever birds and are great problem solvers and strategists. They go after what they want, and while they can roam in groups, they can work on their own as well. They are also mischievous and cocky; they will pull the tail feathers of larger birds to distract them from food or just for fun. This clever, cocky, proud bird is a very good match for our not-so-humble apostate. Thematically, ravens can be seen as death omens since they often eat carrion. However, they are also called ‘wolf birds’ because they have been known to have working relationships with wolves for hunting. Therefore a raven on the shoulder of a wolf would just make sense thematically to me.

Dorian - Scarlet Macaw. Parrots are far too clever for their own good and boredom is their worst enemy. Along with being bright and flashy to match the sparkly mage, their also very loud and opinionated and dramatic about everything just for the hell of it. I think a Macaw would be bold and striking on Dorian’s shoulder, and would have a razor tongue like the mage. However macaws can also be easily stressed and fall into self-destructive behaviour in bad environments. Thematically I think this parrot would have little bald patches hidden under its wings from where it would stress pluck. An interesting healing arc would be the bald patches growing back in as Dorian is accepted for who he is and doesn’t have to hide himself anymore.

Vivienne - Mute Swan. It can be said of water fowl that they appear graceful and serene on the surface but that’s because you can’t see the intricate paddling going on underneath. I feel that summarizes Vivienne well; she is serene and powerful and graceful at first glance, but behind the scenes there’s a lot of work and whispers and gathering of information. Swans are also very strong and assured. They could break bone with the strength of their wings, and they are confident and assured in their place and their power and status. Furthermore, they’re dedicated to their goals and will put in the work to reach them. However, I also like a swan for Vivienne because they mate for life. They are devoted to a single partner, and when that partner dies they mourn heavily. Vivienne appears unruffled and absolutely pristine to everyone around her and that’s because very few are allowed past her mask to see the softer heart inside that loves and then mourns her loved ones.

Iron Bull - Wild hog/Boar. Pigs are very underestimated animals - they appear big and slow, but they are vicious and incredibly intelligent. Pigs are seriously violent and I think this matches Bulls blood-thirsty battle-lust. But like Bull, his daemon would be underestimated; a war machine on the outside but the mind of a great spy on the inside. They’re social animals, and highly adaptable to a range of environments, and they can be very defensive and protective of themselves and those they care about. Overall I think a boar just suits every aspect of Bull visually and thematically.

Cassandra - Ram. *I initially said Mountain Goat but I had meant a Ram/Big Horned Sheep. Usually I headcanon Cassandra with a dog, a hound of some sort, but this was just very interesting and I quite liked it. When looking at a description of a Ram*, I just felt like it spoke for itself: “ Thick-skinned, competitive, and proud... Assertive and quick to put others in their place when they're crossed, definitely the confrontational sort. Highly defensive of their personal projects and themselves. Highly confident, not ones to doubt their abilities... Likely stubborn and highly straightforward, possibly blunt. Possibly planners, probably quite determined and persistent.” Cassandra is a hard-worker, determined and stubborn. She’s definitely the kind to attack a problem head-first, but she does have the capability to be quick, light on her feet and strategic about her approach. Rams are of the sheep family, and thus are very loyal and close to the people that belong in their circle.

Blackwall - Milksnake. Snakes are generally non-confrontational. They don’t pick fights but they will finish them, which is something I can see reflected in Blackwall’s more laid back attitude towards battle than the other warrior companions. Milksnakes are also very adaptable and will do well wherever they are. They’re a mix of solitary and social, they like being around others but also need their own space. They’re also rather internal and have a lot going on inside they don’t let show, not the kind to wear their heart on their sleeve. Mainly I enjoy the thematic meaning of a milksnake. Milksnakes are adapted to mimic a poisonous snake. Their colour pattern is close to that of a much more dangerous snake, and as such they often trick predators into thinking they are something they’re not. I like this thematically for the not-Warden who is pretending to be something much more fearsome than he is.

Sera - Rat. The common rat is an incredibly adaptable, resourceful, hardy creature. They will find a way in whatever circumstances and use whatever they have to their advantage. They are highly social beings and are made to work in groups, in teams and with others - a network much like the Red Jennies or little people. They’re bold, assertive, and even a little aggressive at times.  A rat is seen as vermin and unwanted, but they’re everywhere and are clever and have their little hands in everything. Also, rats are thought of to be tricksters in mythos - the Chinese zodiac being an example of a rat tricking its way to the top. Sera uses her tricky playfulness mainly to pull pranks and cause mayhem, but she also uses it to stick up for others and assert her place in the world.

Varric - Vampire bat. Now I like the headcanon that dwarves don’t have daemons due to Fade-connection stuff and instead have weapons/armour like Armored Bears, but for the sake of argument I wanted to find what his daemon could be. A vampire bat is an unusual animal, and I think it, like Varric, would be the kind of person you don’t easily forget encountering. They are very sensitive, aware animals and are very in-tune with their surroundings and whats going on. They’re very social animals and thrive in groups. They have great communication skills and form close bonds with those they’re close to. Varric would do anything for the people he is closest to, and his natural environment is surrounded by people spinning tales and connecting with others. I think it’s an unusual daemon choice but I also like the idea that its a fun parallel to a surface dwarf - an underground animal, i.e. a rat, but in the sky with wings.

Cole - Unsettled. I think that if Cole did have a daemon, it would be unsettled. He is a spirit and he is in constant state of flux, despite having a central purpose of compassion. And even if he becomes more human, he is very reminiscent of a child learning the world and as such I do not think he would be settled until he becomes more settled in himself. (I do have further headcanon ideas about this spirit-daemon stuff but that may be another post, or a later addition to this one. Let me know if you’re interested)

Leliana - Mongoose. Leliana was harder for me because I don’t know her as well. I didn’t play Origins, but from what I know she was a much younger, more playful, less burdened and jaded person back then. I think this suits a mongoose very well. They can be very inquisitive and open and playful in their youth, unfearful of the wide world and ready to investigate anything to learn more. But as an adult they are more cautious and guarded. Mongoose are incredible predators and are very adaptive, able to take on even snakes that others don’t dare attack. They are more solitary and secretive, and I think an elusive, mysterious mongoose would be a wonderful hint at the fierce power hidden behind the cooler facade of her everyday persona. Brutal, subtle, and unexpected, a mongoose fits the spymaster well as far as I know her.

Cullen - Border Collie. I always knew Cullen would have a dog daemon, it was just a matter of which. He’s loyal and extremely hardworking, and so I decided on herding dogs. I chose Border Collie specifically because of their intelligence, independence and ability to think strategically. This is the kind of dog that will happily take orders and follow command, but will also work on its own to get a job done. Of herding dogs, Border Collies also have the ability to be a bit more ruthless, I feel. They aren’t timid dogs and if left to their own devices could become destructive and rough due to boredom and lack of stimulation. Also, they are predisposed to listen and obey and thus could fall prey to poor leadership (as seen in Kirkwall). Any dog I think could fit for our loyal, hardworking Commander, but I think Border Collie is a good fit. A bit of a farm-boy turned soldier, follower turned commander aesthetic fits thematically with his overall arc.

Josephine - Zebra Longwing. This kind of butterfly is beautiful and poisonous, a perfect combination for our ambassador. Butterfly’s are social creatures and do well around others. Furthermore this kind of butterfly works in groups to achieve its goal, suggesting a calm, diplomatic mind that is good at working with others towards a goal. Furthermore, butterflies are very sensitive and aware creatures; they pay attention to their surroundings and are very intuitive about the environment and others. Lastly, with a slightly toxic nature, these insects warn off predators with their flashy pattern that advertise them as dangerous. I like this because I think Josephine’s daemon would be a great hint at how not-helpless she is, a bit of a giveaway to her power and abilities. Plus I think a pretty butterfly perched like a beautiful broach suits her aesthetic.

[turningtummyrubs]

Can you please do a story with Natasha (or if you aren’t comfortable with writing for her maybe a character of your choice?:)) and she has a really upset stomach and she thinks maybe she just ate something a little off but as the day continues she realises that she’s actually really sick? Like her poor tummy is so bloated and gassy and she feels really nauseous but can’t throw up so she’s stuck dealing with nauseous burps (bonus points if she has diarrhea (implied or direct))

Yep! Here you go:

Nat hasn’t been on a real mission in ages. Lately, it’s all been “Rescue that stupid kitten from a tree!” and “Help an old lady cross the street!” So today should be fun. Fabulous. Fantastic. Except that she must’ve eaten something weird for breakfast, because her stomach feels like the aftereffects of a bomb detonation, cramping and gurgling and churning nonstop.

“Hey, Nat,” Bruce says quietly, occupying the backseat with her as they take one of SHIELD’s cars to the area the “mutant rabbits” are located. “You alright?”

Nat’s certain her face is perfectly schooled, but she must be being more obvious than she’d thought. “I’m fine,” she says. No inflection, no emotion. Normally, the monotone would be second nature, but it’s an effort right now with the way her belly is slowly killing itself.

She looks out the window. The city whizzes past — glaring sun back at her.

What could she have eaten that’s gotten her tummy so upset? She had oatmeal this morning, but that’s a safe food, isn’t it? It was plain, too. No added sugar, no cinnamon, nothing fancy. She didn’t drink anything strange. Last night, it was more of the same. Nothing out of the ordinary. So what the hell is going on?

A short few minutes later, the car skids to a stop, and Nat, Bruce, and Clint jump out, the other Avengers either flying or in the second vehicle.

Surely enough, there really are mutant rabbits parading around Canal Street. They aren’t huge (though bigger than the average household pet), but their eyes are a beady bright red, and a volatile, viscous substance leaks off their brittle buckteeth.

It seems like most civilians have already evacuated themselves, which isn’t a good sign for Natasha. Instead of helping herd people off, she’ll have to really jump into the fray.

Oh, God. In what world does Natasha fucking Romanoff not want to get into a good fight?

Before she can worry further, a rabbit is scrambling for her face, and it’s muscle memory from there. She doesn’t have to worry about being unable to defend herself; her body won’t let that happen, but that doesn’t mean the pain temporarily fades.

No, it’s still there, and all of the twisting and turning and maneuvering is only exacerbating it. She bites down on her lip to stifle a cry when a rough paw slams her square in the belly. Her tummy gurgles loudly with an intense churn. “Shit.”

She grits her teeth and throws the rabbit off of her.

It’s another forty-five minutes before everything has been contained. By that time, Nat had hoped her stomach would be feeling a little better, but it’s even more upset now, and she doesn’t know how much longer she’ll be able to stand on two feet, much less keep up an unphased front.

With a clenched jaw, she presses a hand to her stomach and feels its contents rumble and shift against her palm. At the slightest bit of pressure, a nauseated burp rolls up her throat, and she grimaces at the unrest it spurns in her belly.

Rubbing lightly, she leans heavily against a tree and reminds herself how to breathe, waving off the rest of the Avengers with an “I’ll catch another car, I’ve got some stuff to do.” ‘Stuff’ being ‘be tormented by nausea and stomach pain,’ of course.

She massages her fingertips into the spot beneath her navel, stirring up another few sickly belches. Bile rises dangerously in her throat. She tamps it down, calls for another car, and books it home.

It’s back in her apartment (not the Avengers Compound, because the noise over there is a no right now) that Natasha realizes that she may actually be sick. That this isn’t as temporary as she hoped.

Almost stumbling, she slumps down into her couch and slides a hand beneath her shirt, taking advantage of the newfound privacy and rubbing her stomach in clumsy, desperate movements that really only serve to further disgruntle everything. The fog of nausea clouding her brain won’t let her think straight.

She burps wetly and rolls onto her back, struggling to get comfortable. Every position triggers another stabbing pain or swell of sickness. Her fingers massage more deeply into her belly, desperate to soothe, to do anything that will lessen the discomfort currently rumbling ominously throughout Nat’s entire stomach like a thunderous storm.

She rubs her tummy for a little while longer, then simply lies there, counting the flowers on her wallpaper and reminding herself that she’s a trained assassin dammit! A stomach ache shouldn’t be this difficult to deal with.

The pain does eventually go away. After three days, twelve minutes of sleep, and a frankly alarming amount of trips to the bathroom.