#trick : be my mirror my sword and shield.

[daftlads]

@eternityafraid 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 damn . that was a good sell .

no one sells champ the way tricky two-time does, and oh, he knows it. radiates it, from the second he swaggers into view until the moment the clamor dies down and there's something raw left in its wake. he only looks like carrion for a second until a new murder of crows comes by, and then the game begins anew. trick's all teeth now, that bottomless grin and a bottomless cup, and he'll make a promise for himself tomorrow night too. the spaces in between are more dangerous, cracks in the sidewalk that are invitingly cold and bitter. "it's gotta be," he hums, the twitch of his lip betraying nothing. "we all playin' nice back there right now. ain't no one gonna say somethin' to my face." a pause. a nudge. "not with you here." far from an empty thing, but only carrying a half-truth; theo is solid and warm, but the least of the roster's worries. he means something to trick that he doesn't to the others. a casual grace at play when the anointed one slips an arm around his company's shoulders, sends a brutal look to a gaggle of men choking on envy. "every one of 'em a snake, dog. but they can wait. i got you tonight." in the morning, he's not so sure.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

heavensward-- bitter pill

(some time before helping Artoiel out in Coerthas Western Highlands)

Haurchefant had learned that when he was in a mood, it was best for him to identify the source and the reason why his temper was up. To confront it head on, force himself to accept it, and then work with whatever solution he could come up with. Sometimes the resolutions were bitter, but he could always soothe the sting.

Not this time.

The training dummies were in sorry shape, having been the victims of both sword and shield since the Silver Fuller had locked himself in the training room. Yet Haurchefant wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. His body moved through the training drills on automatic, his mind racing. The memory of what he’d witnessed this morning stuck on endless repeat inside his brain.

----

They’d been at breakfast—himself, his father, his brothers, and Riven. There’d been no sign of Alphinaud but that was almost normal now, the younger elezen getting up early in the mornings to meet with Tataru. Then the House steward had come in…

“Ser Augustine Truehart requests an audience with you all, my lords. The young lord Alphinaud is with him.”

“Truehart?!” Artoiel exclaimed. “What does he want to see all of us about?” Everyone knew of Augustine, one of the most powerful knights of the city. His skill in combat was unmatched, as was his dedication to Halone. His reputation was a bit checkered however, it was common knowledge he’d defied the Archbishop’s edict against leaving and had gone to train at the Gladiator’s Guild in U’ldah, even becoming a popular Bloodsands fighter. He’d returned to Ishgard some years ago and had won a coveted place in one of the more elite paladin orders. Rumors had it that he’d been tied with both Zephrim de Valhourdin and Aymeric de Borel for the positions of the Very Reverend Archimandrite of the Heavens’ Ward and Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. Edmont nodded to the steward.

“Give them leave.” He instructed. The servant bowed and left. Moments later the dining room door opened. Alphinaud was the first to walk in, with Augustine trailing him. There was a look of determination on his face.

“My lords.” Alphinaud stopped and offered a bow, Augustine mirroring him. “I beg pardon for disturbing you.”

“No apologizes needed.” Edmont replied. “Ser Truehart, you honor us with your presence—and I admit, have sparked some curiosity. Have you come here to issue a challenge to my sons again for the upcoming tournament?”

“No, my lord.” Augustine answered, a faint smile appearing on his face. “I will not be participating in any tournaments soon. Which I confess, does rob me of the chance to spar with the lords Fortemps and Fuller.”

“Come to Camp Dragonhead, friend!” Haurchefant invited. “I am most certainly eager for a rematch, and perhaps you will show me some of the Ul’dans’ tricks!” Augustine offered a faint smile at that, but his eyes flicked to Alphinaud. There was…anxiety in the paladin’s eyes, Haurchefant realized. His interactions with Augustine had always been brief, but never had he seen the paladin be nothing but stoic. A quick glance around the table showed him that both Artoirel and Emmanellain had caught the uncharacteristic display as well.

What’s going on?

“Ser Augustine approached me early this morning, which resulted in us having to speak with Tataru.” Alphinaud broke into the silence. “He has…come to a decision, which we both have said yes to—and covers a topic we had been debating with you, Riven.”  Riven blinked at that, tilting her head. Alphinaud turned to look at the armored Hyur.

“Augustine?”

“As of today, I have joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn in my full capacity as a paladin of Ishgard.” Augustine declared. His pronouncement was met with surprise from the Fortemps men—but Haurchefant noted, minimal from Riven. Which would make sense, she and Augustine had crossed paths before. The paladin continued.

“I was…made an offer to join, back when I was a Bloodsands gladiator in Ul’dah. Thancred Waters sought me out, having correctly deduced that I also carried the same gift as the Antecedent and Riven. I refused.”

“The Echo.” Artoirel breathed. “Ser Truehart! You…” Augustine’s bicolored gaze flicked to the older Fortemps son and he nodded.

“Yes. The Mothercrystal blessed me with its’ gift when I was younger. But as I grew older, I feared that I would be taken up for heresy by the Inquisition. I left Ishgard not only to expand my training in combat, but to try and find a way to control my power.” A rueful smile made Augustine’s lips twitch. “I had great success with the first…not so much with the second.”

“Life would be significantly easier if we could control the Echo.” Riven said, offering her own sardonic smile.

“Why did you refuse the Scions’ offer?” Edmont asked, frowning.

“I had learned the Broken Blade had begun their search for aspirants.” Augustine answered, naming his paladin order. “If I had joined the Scions, I would not have been able to return home and continue following my dream.”  He exhaled.

“I…had to choose.” His gaze lifted, casting around the room. “Something that I have…always felt guilty for.”

“Tis not guilt you should feel, Ser Augustine!” Haurchefant exclaimed. “If anything, the timing was wrong!”

“Indeed.” Alphinaud asserted. “Having you join us as a general man-at-arms, especially at this moment is a great boon. And…well, regarding the other matter…” The white-haired elezen glanced at Riven, who blinked.

“Other matter?” She repeated. Augustine looked at Alphinaud. The Sharlayan scholar nodded. The paladin inhaled, steeling himself, Haurchefant noted with surprise. Squaring his shoulders, he marched away from Alphinaud, heading to Riven’s seat at the breakfast table. The brunette watched him advance, confusion written all over her face.

“Augustine?” The paladin didn’t reply, stopping to stand next to her. “What…what are you—what are you doing?!” The last part of the sentence came out in a yelp as Augustine suddenly knelt before the chair. One hand went to grip the hilt of his sword, the other rested on his knee, and his head bowed.

“My lady Salder, Hydaelyn’s favored daughter and Warrior of Light. I offer to you my service freely.” One could hear a pin drop in the dining room. “I commit to your command my sword, my shield, and my life. I give into your keeping my fealty and service, which under the eyes of Halone, can only be released by your will, gross misconduct, or my death. Your enemies will become my enemies, your allies will become my allies. Allow me to be the bulwark between you and all harm.”

-----

Exhaustion rolled through Haurchefant. With a shaky sigh he pulled his sword free of the dummy, idly watching as straw and wood finally gave up the fight to stay assembled. Both tumbled down to sprawl across his feet, sad little splinters and mangled husks. Sweat rolled down his face, chest and back, and Haurchefant closed his eyes.

I…cannot…  Oh, the jealousy and rage that had suddenly overtaken him at that moment. The nerve of Augustine, the fucking gall for him to presume to take a place that he…could not have. Dimly Haurchefant could remember Riven’s protesting—

“Augustine—no! I’m not…worthy of such…”

His father had moved then, quickly pulling Riven away to talk with her. He’d shot Haurchefant a look for him to come as well—but Haurchefant had disobeyed, rooted to his chair, staring at Augustine. Artoirel had stepped in, and the trio had left the room briefly. Alphinaud had followed. Whatever they’d spoken of it must have convinced Riven, for minutes later she’d returned…

Walked over to the paladin, shy and twisting her hands—but then she’d squared her shoulders too, straightening her spine and looking at him…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

And all Haurchefant could do was watch, bile boiling in his stomach. Raging against the fact that he was already forsworn—to Halone, to Ishgard. Bite back the anger that it was he who had been supporting Riven from the very start, not this…prettyboy knight. He wanted to be the one swearing fealty to her, he wanted to be the one joining the Scions! He…

Was forsworn and he knew it. He could no more leave his post than a tiger could change its stripes. He’d laid in his path long ago, fighting tooth, nail, and claw to carve out a place for himself in his home, in his family, in his father’s heart.

Timing, Alphinaud had said. Haurchefant had to admit the teen was right, even though it was a bitter and hard pill to swallow. He had been perfectly placed to help Riven and the Scions…just as Augustine had been perfectly placed to become her sworn-knight. There was no better man to protect her from the prowling wolves of the nobility and church.

But it hurt. It hurt so much. And alone in the training room, Haurchefant had to admit why not even the thought of Riven’s safety being in good hands could ease the pain.

He liked her.

He loved her.

But it was never going to be.

--------

(a thank you to @saesama and @chysgoda for helping me figure out paladin oaths!)

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 11.5

Chapter 11

"Now you see the lengths I can go to in order to take back what belongs to me," Daemon says in triumph as Caraxes stared down Geralt, the look in the dragon's eyes mirroring the same triumph and anger in his rider's.

Back inside the keep, the other witchers could only stare in awe and terror at the sight of the blood wrym.

"That's the dragon?!" Jaskier exclaims in shock, "that's THE dragon that Daemon rides?" "Caraxes," you nod in confirmation.

"I did say he was big," Ciri points out. "Yes, but THAT big?!" Jaskier exasperates.

"I have to agree with the bard on this one," Vesemir speaks, "Even if there were a hundred of us, we may not stand a chance."

"We have a sorceress to help us," Ciri points out. "I appreciate the confidence," Triss speaks, "but dragons are near impervious to magic. Just as with witchers, it would take dozens, even hundreds of us to subdue such a beast."

You sigh, taking a deep breath, thinking about what needed to be done. You were the reason Daemon came all this way. You were the one who could stop this conflict and prevent the bloodshed that was going to ensue.

"You are outmatched, witcher," Daemon continues his triumphant speech, "even with your tricks and spins and your enhanced senses, you are one man. You cannot hope to defeat a dragon on your own. Surrender now. Produce me (y/n) and my child, and I will spare you the destruction of your home, and you the pain of a burning death."

Geralt stood his ground, refusing to back down.

Right at that moment, the doors to Kaer Morhen opened wide. The witchers, lead by Vesemir, run out with swords in hand, their eyes black and skin ashen from the potions they had just consumed. Geralt turns to see the wolves join him in the fight.

Daemon's eyes widen a bit, not having realized there were more of the witcher's kind.

Geralt turned his gaze back to the prince, potion vial in hand, "as you can see, prince, I'm not alone," he downs the potion, his own eyes turning black and skin turning ashen white, "but you are, even with a dragon by your side," he points his sword at Daemon, "turn back now. There is nothing here for you."

"So you will not surrender?" Daemon asks, looking to Geralt, and the other witchers, "you would put your own brethren in mortal danger just to defend the woman you love?"

"We will all defend (y/n) and her child to the last fucking breath if we must," Eskel speaks, "they are one of us."

"You think yourself the first to invade Kaer Morhen?" Vesemir states,  "Men who possessed none of what you have tried to rid the world of the likes of us once before, yet here we stand. We've survived the last raid, we will do so again."

"Go back home to your comfy cushioned palace, you fucking spoiled princeling!" Lambert sneers, the other witchers shouting and jeering in agreement.

"...So be it," Daemon says in a rather calm yet threatening tone, looking to Caraxes, who seemed all too eager to obey his master's next command. Daemon turned to the witchers, a small smile on his face, "Dracarys."

Caraxes raised his head and a pillar of fire shot from his mouth. The witchers simultaneously cast the Quen sign to shield themselves from the dragon's flaming wrath. While the sign proved to be effective, it did little to conceal the heat of the flames.

Nevertheless, the wolves stood there ground.

Meanwhile Triss stood by the entrance to the keep, gathering her thoughts and her strength, focusing on the dragon.

She begin to mutter incantations in the Elder Speech, focusing the chaos around her to surround Caraxes.

It took some time, but the spell started to take effect. Right on time as the witchers were starting to feel the heat of the flames burn through their armor and into their skin. Their magic shields were starting to falter right when Caraxes stopped.

Daemon looked to his dragon, wondering what was going on.

Caraxes swayed and started to move about in a sluggish fashion, almost as if he were disoriented, until he faltered down.

The blood wrym was down, but he was not completely out.

Triss kept repeating the incantations that kept Caraxes sedated; it hadn't even been a minute and already the effects of the spell were starting to take its toll on the sorceress.

Many of the witchers were still recovering from the dragon flame.

Vesemir, Lambert, and Coen and two of the witchers rush up to subdue the dragon. Despite the heavy sedation spell, Caraxes could still push his weight around and knock the wolves about.

Eskel and Geralt take up their swords and charge at Daemon. The prince parried each of their blows from their swords. Valyrian steel was lighter then silver, which worked in Eskel and Geralt's favor as they begin to push the prince back.

While the fighting was going on you ran to your room and found your daughter still in your crib.

You had no doubt the Geralt and his brethren could take on Daemon (one would've been more then enough to suffice), but Caraxes was a different story.

You trusted Triss to be a capable and strong sorceress, but if what she said was true, she would not be able to subdue the beast for much longer. 

You take Aemma from the crib and cradle her to your chest, giving her a kiss on the head. You feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

Aemma looked up to you, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. To her, you were her whole world at this moment, unknowing of the outside world like she's been since the day she was born.

You loved her, and this was the last thing you wanted to do, but you couldn't be responsible for the needless deaths of the men who had welcomed you into their home and allowed you to stay and care for your daughter.

This needed to be done before more blood was shed.

You walk out of your room and into the main hall of the keep, heading for the front entrance.

"Uh, (y/n), what are you doing?" you hear Jaskier question in confusion, "Where are you going with Aemma?" You look to your brother with a knowing gaze.

"No," the Bard shakes his head, "no, no, no, (y/n), don't you dare, I forbid it." You scoff lightly, heart not completely in it, "when has that ever worked?"

"(y/n), you can't," Jaskier insists, "you don't have to do this, we can figure something else out." "Wait, what is she doing?" you hear Ciri ask. "Daemon is hear for Aemma and me," you say, "If I go with him, he'll spare Geralt and the others. I need to do this."

"No, don't," Ciri grabs your wrist, "you can't do this. I swore I would not let anything happen to Aemma, and I won't. I'll protect you, the both of you."

You turn to Ciri, tears in your eyes, "Ciri, you're a brave and sweet girl," you say, placing a hand on her head, "but don't make this anymore difficult then it already is." "But (y/n)-" "this is my decision, Ciri," you say sternly, "I'll be okay. Daemon won't hurt me, not as long as I have Aemma in my arms."

Meanwhile, the fight continued.

Daemon was pushed to the ground by Eskel as he and Geralt have their swords pointed at the prince. Daemon looked towards the keep to see Triss was still focusing her spell on Caraxes. If Daemon could take out the sorceress, the dragon would be back under his command once more.

Daemon got on his knees, putting his hands up to signify his surrender.

Geralt and Eskel still kept their defenses up as they slowly approach the prince.

Noticing the dagger by Eskel's side, Daemon quickly stands and grabs it, stabbing the man in the side.

"Eskel!" Geralt rushes to his brother's side as Daemon makes a run for it. Geralt was about to go after the prince, but Eskel was doubled over in pain.

The white hair witcher looked to see exactly where Daemon was running towards.

"Vesemir!" Geralt calls out, getting the elder witcher's attention, "he's going after Triss!"

Vesemir stopped fighting the dragon and ran after the prince.

Triss' nose was starting to bleed at this point, but she stood her ground and kept focus on the spell.

"Triss!" she hears Vesemir calls out.

Sure enough, Triss looks up to see Daemon about to stab her. The sorceress quickly dodged, but the sword braised her side, forcing her to falter in pain.

Vesemir ran to Triss' side and helped her to her feet.

The spell quickly dissipated and Caraxes shook off the effects, almost as if he was never under the spell's influence.

"We might want to fucking run now," Coen suggests.

Too late.

Caraxes growled and went after the witchers. One got snapped up in the dragon's jaws while the rest ran for their lives.

Daemon stood in triumph as Caraxes approached Geralt and Eskel. The prince walked towards the dragon and stared into both the witchers' eyes, ready to finish it all.

"STOP!!!"

Daemon and Caraxes both turned around towards the keep to see you by the entrance, the baby in your arms.

Daemon stood there, speechless. He felt himself start to walk towards you.

Before you knew it, Daemon stood in front of you, staring in awe at the bundle in your arms. "Please stop this, Daemon," you say, voice broken as you fought back your tears, "This is the reason you came all this way, isn't it? You came for me...and for Aemma."

"Aemma?" Daemon looked into the bundle to see your daughter's face, "you...named our daughter after the late queen?"

You nod, fighting the urge to shove Daemon away as he reached a hand to touch Aemma, rubbing her back.

"She is mine," you hear the prince whisper, "the blood of the dragon courses through her veins." 

You look up to Daemon, staring into his eyes with a hard look on your face.

"Spare the witchers," you sternly tell him, "and we'll go with you. Please, Daemon, swear to me no further harm will come to them, and I'll swear to go with you back to King's Landing, or Dragonstone, or wherever it is you wish to take us. Just please, stop this madness."

Daemon looked to his daughter, then turned his gaze back to you. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, "you have my word, Little Lark. On the gods of Old Valyria."

You exhale, still annoyed by his pet name for you, but relieved that you were able to end this.

"(y/n)!" you hear Geralt call out, as he helps Eskel back to the keep, "what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," you say, letting a tear run down your cheek.

You feel Daemon place a hand on the small on your back and escort you towards Caraxes; the prince giving the witcher a knowing and triumphant look as he did so.

The witchers, Jaskier, and Triss could only stand and watch.

Ciri walked out of the keep, to see you and Daemon walking away.

"(y/n)!" she calls out, tears in her eyes, "don't do this!"

The young girl runs after you, but Geralt stops her, "Ciri!" he says. Ciri struggled, tears falling down as she watched Daemon help you up on Caraxes.

"No..." Ciri cries softly as Daemon mounts the beast behind you on the saddle.

"NO!!!!!"

The ground began to shake. Triss, Jaskier, and the witchers cover their ears from Ciri's screams. Caraxes roared in agony. You hold Aemma close to you for protection. Behind you, Daemon covered his own ears, looking to see where the source of this power was coming from.

For one reason or another, the chaos surrounding Ciri started to cause the witchers to pass out, the injured ones first.

Caraxes managed to protect you, Aemma, and Daemon by raising a wing to form in barrier in front of you.

"CIRI! STOP!!" you shout out, but it didn't do much good.

The keep was starting to crumble from the impact.

Triss stepped away from Vesemir, summoning what strength she had left to cast another spell to subdue Ciri.

It worked, but the spell also backfired, hitting Triss and Vesemir, causing them to pass out; the spell ricocheted towards Caraxes, who had lowered his wing, and hit you and Aemma.

To your surprise, you barely felt a thing. You look to Aemma, but it didn't seem anything different happened to her either.

Daemon leaned over your shoulder, concern for his daughter taking over.

Ciri, still disoriented from the impact of the spell, groggily got back on her feet. Seeing the everyone else was down, and the dragon had not yet taken off, she runs to you and Daemon.

Both you and Daemon could only stare at the young girl, shocked and speechless, even Caraxes seem to stare at her in shock as well.

"You want to take (y/n) and Aemma away from here, you're taking me too," Ciri states with authority.

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

Some time later, the witchers started to come to.

By the time Geralt regained consciousness he saw his brothers walk back to the keep, many of them exhausted and wounded.

Inside, Vesemir tended to Triss' wounds while Cone took care of Eskel.

Geralt walked in and approached the elder witcher, "Where are (y/n) and Aemma?" he asks. "...Gone," Vesemir says somberly, "as is Ciri."

"What?!" Geralt's eyes widen, "she...no, no, no," he shakes his head in denial.

He runs outside to calling out for Ciri, shouting into the mountain.

The witcher fell to his knees, not able to come to terms with the fact that not only was the women he loved taken away, but now his ward was taken from him as well.

Geralt turned his gaze to the west. He was going to do everything in his power to travel to Westeros, and bring you, Aemma, and Ciri back home.

Chapter 12

Masterlist

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Raistlin's Farewell

Caramon, the gods have tricked the world

In absences, in gifts, and all of us

Are housed within their cruelties. The wit

That was our heritage, they lodged in me,

Enough to see all differences: the light

In Tika's eye when she looks elsewhere,

The tremble in Laurana's voice when she

Speaks to Tanis, and the graceful sweep

Of Goldmoon's hair at Riverwind's approach.

They look at me, and even with your mind

I could discern the difference. Here I sit,

A body frail as bird bones.

In return

The gods teach us compassion, teach us mercy,

That compensation. Sometimes they succeed,

For I have felt the hot spit of injustice

Turn through those too weak to fight their brothers

For sustenance or love, and in that feeling

The pain lulled and diminished to a glow,

I pitied as you pitied, and in that

Rose above the weakest of the litter.

You, my brother, in your thoughtless grace,

That special world in which the sword arm spins

The wild arc of ambition and the eye

Gives flawless guidance to the flawless hand,

You cannot follow me, cannot observe

The landscape of cracked mirrors in the soul,

The aching hollowness in sleight of hand.

And yet you love me, simple as the rush

And balance of our blindly mingled blood,

Or as a hot sword arching through the snow:

It is the mutual need that puzzles you,

The deep complexity lodged in the veins.

Wild in the dance of battle, when you stand,

A shield before your brother, it is then

Your nourishment arises from the heart

Of all my weaknesses.

When I am gone,

Where will you find the fullness of your blood?

Backed in the heart's loud tunnels?

I have heard

The Queen's soft lullaby, Her serenade

And call to battle mingling in the night;

This music calls me to my quiet throne

Deep in Her senseless kingdom.

Dragonlords

Thought to bring the darkness into light,

Corrupt it with the mornings and the moons—

In balance is all purity destroyed,

But in voluptuous darkness lies the truth,

The final, graceful dance.

But not for you:

You cannot follow me into the night,

Into the maze of sweetness. For you stand

Cradled by the sun, in solid lands,

Expecting nothing, having lost your eat

Before the road became unspeakable.

It is beyond explaining, and the words

Will make you stumble. Tanis is your friend,

My little orphan, and he will explain

Those things he glimpses in the shadow's path,

For he knew Kitiara and the shine

Of the dark moon upon her darkest hair,

And yet he cannot threaten, for the night

Breathes in a moist wind upon my waiting face.

"DragonLance Chronicles: Dragons of Spring Dawning" - Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

[karoiseka]

20) Duel

((Second of the night, this takes place before 5.3, just for a little fun! ^_^))

Steel clashed together, as Karo desperately crossed her daggers to block the overhead move, before lightly feeling the flat of Thancred’s second blade tap her hip.  Scowling, she took the two steps back, panting from the excretion.

“I’m never going to get the hang of fighting in melee range,” Karo lamented, panting with the excretion.  

“Well, not like that you aren’t,” he grinned in response, taking a stride forward and placing a kiss on her forehead.  “You’ve been doing well with the sword and shield, and despite your opinion, you’ve been doing quite well with the daggers,” He eyed the long knives held loosely in her hands.

“You said Jacke got you started with those, right?”  Karo sheathed the blades, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat away, while nodding.

“Yeah, during one of my longer stays in Limsa,” she smiled thinking of the rogues, and their surprise that she knew Thancred.  Of course, she couldn’t find him at the time since Lahabrea had his talons in him, but after the Praetorium, the mutual friends had come up in conversation, and they had shared stories.  Thancred had handed over the blades he had been using back to their actual owner, Ryne, who had been watching the pair spar.

“I think it’s your turn to go,” he mused her red hair affectionately with a grin.  “Duel it out to see who is better with those.”  Karo’s heart sank.  In most forms of combat, she could easily trounce Ryne, but with the twin daggers?  The girl was a natural, and despite the daggers feeling at home in her hands, Karo still had a few movement problems with guarding while pressing an attack.  Masking her dismay, she stretched in place before striding out to the center of little clearing they had claimed in Lakeland to make a practice arena.  Ryne grinned, drawing her own daggers (that fit much better in her hands than in Thancred’s large ones) as Karo dropped into a mirrored fighting stance, ready to let the duel begin.

It started with basic circling, Ryne testing her reach that was almost as long as Karo’s.  Easily parried, Karo’s tail swayed behind her, aiding in last minute balance adjustments, her ears twitching lightly as she listened for the slight change in breathing or the minute stance shift that would indicate an attack was imminent.  Blows were traded evenly, slowly at first, but gaining speed as Ryne warmed up.  Karo was playing defense more often than not, luckily able to keep her footing due to how much she usually moved while using her bow, but it didn’t help her from having to backpedal and fend off furious flurries of blows from the younger girl time and again.

Finally, Ryne pulled away minutely before leaping up, and surprising not only Karo but Thancred who was still watching as she leapt over Karo’s head, twisting, and tossing out several small throwing knives before landing, and springing at the Warrior, knife at her throat, neatly ending the bout.  It had been Thancred’s signature move when he still fought with two knives instead of a gunblade, and she had carried it out perfectly.

“When did you learn that move?” Karo had held up her hands in surrender as Ryne preened under the praise.

“Well, I didn’t teach it to her, if that’s what you’re asking!” Thancred had joined them in the clearing, staring down in awe at his adopted daughter.

“You used it several times when hunting when we were traveling together and you didn’t want to use the longer blade,” Ryne explained.  “I’ve been trying to work on it for a long time, but I wasn’t sure if I could jump over you.  Karo’s shorter, so I figured it would be a good time to test it against a real person.”

“Well, as you know, that move only works once on someone,” Karo grinned.  “I’ll be watching for it next time!” Ryne smiled sweetly in return, delivering the final killing blow to Karo’s ego.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll never surpass me with these, I’ll have a new trick next time we duel!”

[the-dog-watch]

The Thirteen-Gun Salute

me: i am fundamentally opposed to the british empire and all forms of colonialism and imperialism. history is a record of their atrocities.

my therapist: that's fair

me: but i love it when god's chosen captain jack aubrey is restored to the navy list and reclaims his sword so ere long he may draw it once more in the honorable defense of his country.

my therapist: who doesn't?

(once again, apologies to the OP)

Patrick O'Brian loves to repeat character-types throughout the Aubrey/Maturin series. For example, the  beautiful, fashionable lady spies who end up embroiled in Stephen’s intelligence work, characters  like Mrs. Wogan in Desolation Island or Mrs. Fielding in Treason's Harbour. Enjoyable in their way (personally I have a lot of fondness for Mrs. Fielding’s failed seduction in The Ionian Mission) but I never find myself that interested in them on their own, or at least not as interested in them as I am in the original; they’re all pale shades of Diana. They might be fancy and beautiful and high class but they lack her ineffable quality of being a messy bitch.

If Diana is the red-blooded progenitor of the Beautiful Lady Spy archetype, then Stephen is the progenitor of another recurring character type: the Bisexual Man with Mental Health problems, another iteration of which is Lord Clonfert from The Mauritius Command, who was the most interesting part of what I personally find to be the weakest, most insubstantial of the books. In Jo Walton’s reading guide, which I’ve been using a little bit, one of the commenters pointed out that the dipsomaniac doctor McAdams and Lord Clonfert are "dark reflections" of Stephen and Jack, an idea I find fascinating. Mirror universe Aubrey and Maturin...spooky!

But anyway, I bring this up because Andrew Wray is yet another iteration of the Bisexual Man with Mental Health Problems, certainly a more destructive and a much more functional antagonist than Clonfert ever was. I really liked the dissection scene; in her review Jo Walton said she found it so gruesome she almost "didn't want to know Stephen anymore;" no disrespect to her but some of us are built different. This is one of my favorite Stephen Maturin crazy ass moments of all time, up there with self-surgery in HMS Surprise and that time he stocked up on too many stimulants in Sweden and accidentally turned all the ship's rats into coke fiends.

But, sadly, overall the messy gay drama with Wray and Ledward (WHO THE FUCK EVEN WAS LEDWARD did we ever even see him speak????) was a little too understated, even for me. Obviously I didn't expect Stephen or Jack to get revenge on them in the traditional way, but something a little more definite than Jack getting pissy at a dinner after the fact could have done the trick, I think.

The dissatisfaction I feel with it is what brings me back to Clonfert; the actual plot of The Mauritius Command feels very remote and inert to me, and Clonfert is the most vivid part. Jack is so basically above him in all ways (or so Stephen describes it) that Clonfert completely destroys himself out of his neuroses and Jack is shielded by Stephen from ever even knowing about or being hurt by it. It was similarly anticlimactic but there was an element of tragedy and pathos to it, and Stephen’s shielding Jack from the disturbing truth has an echo in Stephen’s own inability to fully open up to Jack about Diana, Stephen's inability to open up about pretty much everything.

Thankfully, this book has way more going for it than The Mauritius Command. I like the rhythm and episodic nature of these latter books much more than TMC's rigid retelling of a historical naval campaign. Stephen re-living some of his revolutionary past with the United Irishmen, and re-living some of the divided loyalties poor James Dillon (may he rest in pieces) felt in the first novel was a welcome call back, the Kumai trip was generally wonderful, I was pretty happy about Jack's ultimate ambivalence about being reinstated in the Navy again, and I LOVE the Stephen Maturin Strikes It Rich storyline (more on that next time I think; I do think it's very funny that when it comes to money, neither Stephen nor Jack is 'the smart one.')

I got to really love the Diane, and this is the first time we’ve had a genuine shipwreck; as exciting as that was, it was genuinely heartbreaking to lose her. RIP Diane but I’m already well into the next book and in love with my new girl (Nutmeg of Consolation, you will always be famous. 😭)

Personal Ranking

The Far Side of the World (10) > HMS Surprise (3) > Desolation Island (5) > The Reverse of the Medal (11) > The Ionian Mission (8) > The Fortune of War (6) > Master & Commander (1) > The Surgeon’s Mate (7) > Treason's Harbour (9) > The Letter of Marque (12) > The Thirteen-Gun Salute (13) > Post Captain (2) > The Mauritius Command (4)

[vampirerite]

ive been tweaking my Fantasia sheets all day so heres whats going on so far

notes i couldnt fit:

Murasaki and Izou are tied to events and as such i placed them way earlier than they would have been summoned chronologically, to create a sort of team divide between singularity and lostbelt summons

Murasaki is summoned before Singularity 2 to give Arjuna time to shine in Prologue/S1

Scathach is summoned before Okeanos because i think it would be funny as fuck for her and Drake to interact (and fight)

Izou is summoned before London because i think a chapter long mini rivalry between him and Jack is funny as fuck

Arjuna is Fantasia’s tutorial summon, which was performed using Mash’s shield in Fuyuki. After that Fantasia exclusively sticks to the summoning room when using the chaldea system, and all summons are before/after an upcoming outing/chapter

All lostbelt summons have to be post chapter for plot reasons, though i did think about him just stealing summons from the lostbelts it definitely cheapens some (Lostbelt 1′s ending is my first thought)

Because this is my house, in Lostbelt 4 we go with Arjuna taking Karna’s place against Arjuna Alter.

To elaborate on Fantasia’s magecraft, he can essentially make a molotov cocktail but have it explode in ice or a burst of electricity which is what actually makes if differ from regular bomb making. The real trick is the imbuing technique, and it requires a lot of practice to get it to work on explosives without triggering them mid creation. Hes had family members die from fucking up while learning.

His Gamble skill is the result of a rushed imbuing effect, where it either pops off and a unit gets an attack boost before it fizzles and makes them feel weak the turn after or the reverse order. 

His Bombastic Toss skill is him throwing a pre-prepared grenande, I couldnt fit in here that its 1 target 1 turn.

His command spells are symbolic of mirrors and responsibility. The two moons mirroring each other can also be reflected off a lake, and the sword in the stone is the last image to disappear when using the spells.

[vendetta-if]

Vendetta Interactive Side Story - Halloween Special 🎉

Hey guys 👋 The Halloween Special Interactive Side Story is finally done! 🎉 I know it's a bit late 😅 But this is the very first ever Interactive Side Story I've made for 'Vendetta'.

It turns out longer than I first expected, reaching a word count of around 19K words excluding commands (that's really close to a major-update worth of content!).

It's a really cute and wholesome and fluffy story about little MC, Ash, and Rin celebrating Halloween together with Viktor, Takashi, Luka, and Cara. You'll have three Halloween costumes to choose from, which will also affect Ash's and Viktor's costumes. There will also be four different activities to choose from for the Halloween Fair and a bunch of smaller interaction options!

Since it is a reward that I promised the Patrons for reaching the second goal over on Patreon, the full story will be available to be played by all tiers of Patrons! 😄 So, if you guys are interested, please check out my Patreon page!

Patreon Link

I'll also put a little sneak peek and snippets below the cut! 😁

Note: ${ash_he}, ${ash_him}, ${ash_his} are just all variables for Ash's pronoun, the same thing with Rin's and MC's also. So, whenever they pop up, just feel free to replace them with the proper ones in your head if you want to. And ${lname} is the surname that Viktor and MC use. 

If you choose the Knight costume.

It's the day you've been waiting for all month long and your body is thrumming with barely-held excitement. What day is it? It's the day of the Halloween celebration, and just like all the previous years, you're going to go trick-or-treating with your bestest friend ever, Ash. But what makes you even more excited is that Rin Aikawa, the ${rin_son} of both your dad's and uncle's friend, is going to be joining you.

Since it's Saturday, you've spent the whole day hanging out with Ash and making final touches for both of your costumes. Like every year, you and Ash once again coordinate your costumes. 

This year, you decide to dress up as a loyal and chivalrous knight sworn to your dad and Ash will be the dragon that you'll valiantly vanquish! For a moment, ${ash_he} also wanted to become a knight like you, but it doesn't take long for Ash to change ${ash_his} mind. You can't blame ${ash_him}. Dragons are cool as heck and ${ash_his} pyrokinesis is just too fitting. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit jealous.

The both of you have spent a week and a half obtaining and customizing your costumes, trying to perfect them. And earlier today, you managed to finish making the coat of arms for House $!{lname}. You designed it yourself and made a few copies out of card stock papers. Granted, your dad helped you cut out the design and clean up the mess after. But still, you are really proud of your work!

Standing in front of the full-body mirror in your room, you scan your costume. You're wearing a long-sleeved silvery-gray shirt that is meant to mimic the look of chainmail. A red and black tunic is draped over it; the tunic comes down to the middle of your thighs with a black belt cinching it on your hips. Sadly, you and your dad lack the creative ability to create your own knight costume, so you ended up having to buy a ready-to-use full-set costume online and it looks pretty good; it even came with the little plastic sword and shield.

You nod in satisfaction and pride at the state of your costume before glancing back up, looking into your own ${mc_eyes} eyes. Oh, you almost forget the headpiece! You stride over to your bed, snatching the silvery-gray balaclava; it is meant to look like a mail coif. You pull it over your head and face and adjust the mail coif balaclava so it covers your ${mc_hair_length}, ${mc_hair_texture}, ${mc_hair} hair nicely until only wisps stick out.

Suddenly, a knock cuts through the silence of your room. Turning towards the door, you call out to let Ash come in.

"Hey $!{nick}! Are you ready? Rin and ${rin_his} father are here already," ${ash_he} says softly, standing in your doorway. $!{ash_he} is wearing a ready-to-use black and red, full-body, dragon costume, ${ash_his} wings flopping a bit as ${ash_he} shifts in place and ${ash_his} emerald eyes staring at you from the dragon's maw. $!{ash_he} ends up looking more adorable than frightening.

* * * * *

You turn your attention to Takashi and see that he really is wearing authentic-looking samurai armor, the helmet is held in the crook of his arm and there's even a katana slung on his left hip. You wonder if the katana is real or only a prop. Maybe you can ask him later on.

Whatever conversation that your dad and Takashi are having is tapering off. Takashi glances at your dad from head to toe, cheeks slightly flushed. He clears his throat awkwardly before asking, "Dressed up as a king this year, huh? It's a fitting outfit for you. And the black doublet actually looks nice, although a bit stiff."

"Oh, thank you," your dad chuckles and rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Well, it was $!{nick}'s idea since ${mc_he} @{mc_plural want|wants} all three of our costumes to be coordinated." He gestures at you and Ash. "Also, this doublet is actually more comfortable to wear than it looks."

Suddenly, Takashi grins and his eyes glint mischievously. "Your Majesty, I do hope you still have a vacant position among your knights for me. I would like to swear fealty to be one of your loyal knights and protectors." He bows theatrically.

You and Rin gasp aloud together. "No! I'm my dad's only knight and protector!" You kick your little legs in protest.

Rin jumps down the sofa and walks over to ${rin_his} father before hitting him on the thigh repeatedly with ${rin_his} little fists. "Otousan! You already swore to be my samurai!"

Takashi laughs boisterously before bending down and hoisting his ${rin_son} up onto his broad shoulders.

*if (rin_gender = "male") "I'm only joking, my love. Of course, you're the only daimyo I'm loyal to."

*if (rin_gender = "female") "I'm only joking, my love. Of course, I'm sworn only to you, hime-sama."

Rin clings to ${rin_his} father's head, still pouting a bit but pacified for now.

Viktor smiles softly before taking a step towards you and patting your head fondly. "Hey baby, are you ready for trick-or-treating tonight?"

[infitsovermisfits]

(SMUT) Tiny Swords Part 6 - Eddie Munson x (afab)Reader

This is a smut chapter- if you're under the age of 18 please don't read it. Be safe on the internet ok?

AN: ok wow I had no idea wow ok wow. I wanted to quickly say thank u again to anyone who has read this silly little fanfic i wrote- I've seen like 3 tiktoks with it in them and received such moving comments that it's... i started writing this just because i wanted to write something nice for eddie because i really love his character and to see so many people love this work is... something special <3 i never experienced like this before and it's overwhelming in the loveliest of ways <3 thank you to anyone who has read up to this chapter- to quote the timeless Keanu Reeves, you're all breathtaking <3 i love u all

can you believe its been about 100 days simping for eddie? that's so fucking wild don't ask how i know that it's embarrassing. this took me a while to write and frankly i don't really like it but i just wanted to get it done because i want to write other things, uni is starting for me again soon and i guess I'm not ready for this to end just yet ;-; i had to cut this one short on the count of me not being able to write a propper ending/ have any plot ideas for this anymore. this is just porn with little plot. enjoy!

WARNINGS: AFAB reader, female bodily autonomy, reader uses they/them pronouns, reader wears make up, not my proudest work, safe sex- wear a condom lads, p in v sex, mirror sex, biting, hickeys, blah blah, fucking magic tricks?? for some reason?? talking about the future, mentions of masterbation, i think that's it?

word count: 13047

(complete) PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | MASTERLIST

The morning was quiet and peaceful. Waking in tangled limbs, skin slowly heating in the rising sun.  There was the gentle chirping of the birds outside, along with Eddie's soft snores beside you. You found yourself locked in his embrace; one of his arms secured around your waist while the other rested in your hair. The covers just barely covered your bare bodies, so you could feel the cool breeze flutter in through the window, ruffling your curtains. You took the liberty of shifting your hand to cover his eyes, shielding him from the light before you pressed your face into his chest, inhaling his earthy scent. His lips move to gently kiss your forehead, though he doesn't move to get up. Neither do you- too content like this. You let yourself doze for a few more moments until you feel the need to use the bathroom. Worming out of his arms isn't easy, but you eventually escape. Upon your return, you're amused to find Eddie sitting up with a pout on his lips. He still has his eyes closed, clearly still tired, his hair wild, significantly more messy than usual. As your footsteps approach your bed, his open so he squints at you in the bright room, 

"Why'd you go?" He asks in a whiny voice, still hoarse and thick with sleep. With a smile, you let your knees sink down onto the bed, kneeling beside him. He tilts his head to look at you, and his expression shifts to affectionate; his smile is infectious. You plant your lips to his gently,

"I had to go pee," You tell him once you pull away, sitting back on your legs to watch as he rolls his eyes with a huff, blowing his messy bangs up and out of his eyes, "I'm back now," You say, opening your arms slightly to the sides. Eddie tilts his head slightly to look back at you, an elbow leaning on his covered, bent knee and toying with the ends of his hair; the other resting against his thigh. His eyes dip from your face down your body. You're wearing a shirt of his that you put on in the middle of the night, "Stop looking," You scold with a smile, shuffling closer to him again,

"I'm admiring the view, babe," He says lazily with a grin, groaning softly as he stretches his arms out in front of him and hugs you close. He puts all his weight on you, urging you to lay back on your bed. After moving your legs out from under you, you do so, not finding the strength to try and push him off. Laughter leaves your lips instead as he lays directly on top of you, the weight welcoming and comforting. He rests his head on your chest, in the valley between your breasts- effectively trapping you below him again,

"Eddie," You whine, smiling as you look down at him. He shifts his head, pressing a kiss to the middle of your clothed chest, before looking at up you. He narrows his eyes, an action you mimic and smile back at him, "I just got up,"

"Five more minutes," He grumbles, his head falling back on your chest, soft snores quickly escaping his lips leaving no room for you to argue. Eddie was never one to wake up bright and early in the mornings- staying up so late must have worn him out. And considering you still felt an ache in your thighs and hips, you relent and let him sleep.

The 'five more minutes' drag on for fifteen, before you got too impatient and try to wiggle out from below him unsuccessfully. He wakes again, curious as to what you're doing, and when you answered that you were bored, he lets out a yawn and lifts himself up off you. As soon as you shuffle out from under him, he flopps back on his stomach, hiding his face in his arms and letting his hair fall over his face,

"What're you gonna do?" He asks, voice muffled, though he does just slightly lift his head so his tired eyes can watch you. You don't answer at first, taking a quiet moment sitting on the edge of the bed and just watching him. Without much thought, you reach a hand out to mess with his curls, not entirely attempting to fix the mess, just making it... Look nicer. You move the bangs from out of his face and move a few of the curls from his shoulders. Your eyes drift to the scratch marks you had left behind on his shoulder blades, along with the deep red and purple bruising of the bruise you bit into his skin. Warmth heats your cheeks, yet you let your fingers delicately trace over the red marks, knowing his skin would likely still be tender. He lifts his head at the contact, eyes glancing at a bruise on your knee, before looking at your face with wide eyes. There are still dark circles under them, "Hello," He says quietly. At the sound of his voice, you smile wider, moving your hand from his back to ruffle his bangs. He groans, trying to move his head away from you playfully, before attempting to bite at your fingers. You pull your hand away before he can, but laugh,

"Are you feral, Eddie? Jesus," You laugh as he grins,

"Yeah, and I have rabies too," He says, baring his teeth. Your eyes dart over his sharp canines before he relaxes his mouth into a smile, "What, are you gonna watch me sleep now?" He asks, raising his brows,

"Nah, you're more interesting awake," You tell him, patting the bed and standing up,

"I'm plenty interesting when I'm asleep- oh!" He suddenly exclaims, and you turn your head to look at him, "I just remembered a dream I had," He smirks as you relax,

"Do tell," You wave an arm, standing by your chair and glancing over the clothes strewn around your room. You should start cleaning up,

"Nah, I don't think you want to hear it," Eddie mumbles; his face must be back in his arms. You furrow your brows, before groaning,

"God, you didn't have a sex dream, did you?"

"No!" You can hear the smile in his voice, "Why'd I need to fantasise about that when I have you right here, sweetheart?" You smile to yourself as you pick up a shirt- his- and fold it, before pulling his bag closer to you so you can put it back there. Glancing to your side, your eyes dart over his guitar case,

"She's right here, you know," You pat the case; the zippers jingle. You grab another shirt- his- and begin folding it, "Eds?" You ask as he doesn't respond right away, "Is-"

"Do you have cards?" He asks suddenly, lifting his head so you could hear him clearly. You freeze where you are, giving him a look, "What?" He asks, smiling at you,

"Cards?" You ask suspiciously,

"Yeah," He nods,

"Like playing cards?"

"Fucking birthday cards," Your name leaves his lips dripping with sarcasm as you laugh, "Playing cards, yeah," He clarifies as you start looking through your drawers,

"I've got..." You shuffle through things you haven't touched in years: scrap paper with doodles and notes you passed with Eddie; old notebooks you hardly touched; stray pens and pencils. The items, though junk, fill you with the pleasant warmth of remembrance of simpler times. Before senior year and the big 'what comes next?' question began looming overhead and around every turn- at every guidance counsellor session. Your fingers finally find what you were looking for, pulling the deck out and tossing it next to him on the bed, "I don't know if all the cards are there though- I also have Uno-"

"Oh, bring that one too," He grins, there's a creak and gently thud that comes from your bed, and when you momentarily turn to glance at him, Eddie's flipped onto his back and has taken the cards from the deck. He has them above his head and he's shuffling through them, muttering digits under his breath to count them. You grab the Uno deck as promised, even though the flimsy cardboard packaging is almost falling apart, "There's only fifty-one," He announces, glancing over at you as you stand and join him on the bed. He sits up, still shuffling through the deck,

"Do you know which one's..." To say Eddie was skilled with his hands was an understatement. Of course, it was impressive watching him play complicated riffs on his guitar's, considering he'd learn by ear, but you were utterly mesmerised now; watching the cards seemingly gliding through his fingers,

"Which one's what, sweetheart?" He asks, halting the movements of his hands so you're forced to focus your surprised glance at him,

"How did-" You blink at him. Eddie had many talents he didn't recognise as talents. For example, you found it remarkable that he'd occasionally mention he was rereading 'Lord of the Rings' for the millionth time on a Monday morning as he drove you to school, and by Saturday evening, he'd tell you he finished, eagerly relaying his favourite parts to you. He'd learn all his favourite songs, and occasionally yours, by ear, mischievously sitting in the corner while you did your school work, playing the chords on one of his quitars and waiting for you to realise. And not to mention the elaborate campaigns that'd leave your mind occupied for days after because who would've suspected that Kas- Vecna's own right-hand man- was the one who'd betray him, sacrificing himself to help the party in your darkest hour? Shuffling cards like he was fucking Houdini shouldn't surprise you as much as it did... But here you were, lips slightly parted and unable to vocalise your shock,

"Keep your mouth open like that and you're gonna swallow a fly," He says nonchalantly, with a slight slyness to his tone. He's caught on. You close your mouth, before licking your lips to wet them and glance from his hands to his face. He's grinning slightly,

"How did you learn how to shuffle the cards like that?" You finally ask, smiling slightly as he chuckles lowly. He begins to quickly deal the cards into two piles,

"That's what you're so impressed by?" He asks with a grin, casting you a glance. You shrug,

"You can't just grab my cards and shuffle them like you're Houdini or something!" He laughs again, more fully and in delight, "Explain!" You shove his shoulder slightly as he finishes with the cards, picking up his pile and organising the cards so they'd be even in his grasp,

"Alright..." He rolls his eyes, setting his cards closer to him before picking up the other pile and organising it for you. He moves his head away so you can't see his face, "I may or may not have gotten... A little obsessed with magic when I was a kid?" He gives you a slight glance, the tips of his ears going red slightly in embarrassment, "I thought it'd make me cool y'know? Being all 'is this your card?' and pulling out an ace of spades-" At that, he turns over a card and sticks his tongue out at the king of hearts, before setting it back in the pile and shuffling it, "It's-"

"Do you remember any magic tricks?" You ask him with a smile. He glances up at you, searching your eyes for any signs of mockery. You nod to your cards he's holding, organised so they're all facing upside down,

"Uhh... Well, I just separated them. Thought we could play something," He sit up a little more, holding out half of the deck. Gently you take it from him, humming,

"But you do know magic tricks?" You ask. He grins,

"Of course, I know magic tricks," He rolls his eyes, "I'm amazing at everything I do?" This time you roll your eyes, "Are we playing War or snap?" He asks,

"Snap- I've always been good at that," You grin, setting your first card down on the bed. Neither of you make comment on the face that it's the ace of spades,

"Oh, have you?" He teases, setting his own card down,

"Yeah, I played with my siblings all the time. The key is multi-tasking- talking to distract them but paying close attention to what you're doing and- snap!" You grin to yourself, quickly slapping your hand over the red and black Queens with a smirk. His hand covers yours quickly as he groans, but smirks, watching you take the cards and add them to the bottom of your deck, "See? Good tactics get you anywhere," You tease,

"Uhuh," He smiles, nodding his head as he sets his card down and watches you expectantly. He holds your gaze for a few moments as you glare playfully, before looking down to focus on the cards, "So my dream-"

"I almost forgot about that- what was it?" You ask, focusing hard on the cards. He places a four; you place a jack,

"Yeah- so we were at the grocery store for some reason and I was struggling to pick out a guitar. I don't know why they were selling guitars at a grocery store, but whatever," He says, "Next thing I know, you grab a ketchup bottle- God knows where you got that from, we're looking at guitars-" He chuckles softly, "But you start throwing it all over the customers around us," You laugh at that, barely registering the four you put down onto his. Briefly, you catch the flash in his eyes as he slaps a hand over the cards and grins at you, "Idiot," He smirks as you slap your hand onto his,

"But you didn't say snap!" You protest, moving your hand to try and grab his to pry it off the pileof cards,

"Does it matter- snap!" He grins, shoving your hand off of his easily and smirking as you huff, relenting and letting him take the cards, "See, this is why you don't tell anyone your strategies, babe," He smirks, "You do the exact same thing in my campaigns," He points out to you,

"I don't," You defend, setting your cards down one after the other,

"You do- you're so predictable it's hilarious," he smiles to himself, glancing up at you once he places down an ace, "Sometimes I don't even want to thwart your plan, it's funny predicting what you're gonna do," He smiles,

"Prey tell- how easy am I?" You ask, raising your brows as you set another card down,

"Well- you always use your strongest attack first," Eddie points out, "And you complain that no one else uses their strongest attacks either. That'll usually start an argument with Dustin about planning and strategy," He smiles as he sets another card down, glancing back at you, "What?"

"I mean it's true," You grumble,

"Yeah, it is," He smiles, "And it's funny every time," He adds, setting a King over yours. You quickly slap your hand onto the pile and grin,

"Snap!" Half of his pile is on your bed and you grin proudly to yourself as you pick it up. He huffs, rolling his eyes, "Sometimes," You tease, making sure the pile sits evenly in your hands, "It's better to sit quietly while your opponent talks away," You say proudly, holding out your stack of cards to show them off. He narrows his eyes, briefly glancing down at them, before smirking slyly and grabbing your cards out of your hands before you can react, "Hey!" You protest,

"This counts as a win for me because I have all the cards and you have none," He announces proudly, beginning to shuffle through them. You attempt to grab them back, though huff as he moves them away again,

"Eddie," You whine, grinning as you move over him to grab your cards back. Considering he now moved them to rest in his one hand, he holds them above his head and leans back on the bed. You follow him, landing on top of his chest,

"Nah, I won," He grins, glancing from the cards in his hand to your hand, reaching out and trying to grab them. He glanced down at your face in amusement, before closing the short distance between your faces and kissing you. You could feel him smirk against your lips as you stopped reaching for the cards and set your hand on his arm instead, your other hand moving to rest on his chest so you could prop yourself up, "C'mon," he says softly when you pull away,

"'C'mon' what?" You ask quietly,

"Say I won," He says smugly; you narrow your eyes,

"If you admit you cheated," Your brows raise as he grins, showing his teeth,

"It wasn't cheating- it was making use of an opportunity," He grins, "Say it," He repeats in a sing-songy way. Playfully, you sigh, grinning as you blow air into his face causing him to scrunch his nose,

"You win, Eds," You tell him reluctantly, swiftly moving up off of him and reaching for the Uno cards,

"Ahh, that's music to my ears, babe," He murmurs beside you. The creeking of the bed makes you realise he's sitting up behind you now. Then his lips ghost along your skin, moving from your shoulder until he gently kisses your sensitive neck, tongue darting out to lick your pulse point. Reluctantly, you press a hand to his cheek to teasingly push him away, though you don't expect it when he tilts his head and playfully licks your palm,

"Ew!" You exclaim as you pull your hand back quickly, gasping as he cackles loudly, falling back on your bed as you wipe your hand with mock disgust on your sheets, "What is wrong with you, Eddie?" You say through laughter, "That's disgusting!"

"What!?" He grins at you, "C'mon babe-"

"I don't appreciate being licked!" You tell him. he's moving to set the deck of cards on your bedside table, but halts his movements at your statement, shooting you a sceptical look, raising his brows with an amused grin, "Okay- not... You know what I mean, Eddie!" You say exasperated,

"No, I don't think I do," He grins at you when you huff, "What? So you'll happily make out with me, and let me eat you out but when I lick your hand, you think it's gross?" He says as he shifts and sets the cards he's still holding on the table, then settles to sit on your bed and watches you with amusement,

"Yes," You tell him, smiling as his mouth falls open in shock,

"Seriously!?" He asks with a large grin,

"Well, yeah," You shrug, "I... No- I know what you're doing," You shuffle to the edge of your bed, swinging your legs off the side as if you're moving to leave, grinning to yourself at his shocked expression,

"What!? What am I doing?" He asks innocently,

"You are trying to rope me into admitting things," You point a finger at him,

"I am doing no such thing!" He continues to protest as if he's innocent. Glancing at your hand, he reaches out to grab it. You narrow your eyes at him as you move it out of his way, "C'mon- what am I trying to get you to admit?" He smiles,

"That I don't actually mind when you-" Your eyes grow wide in realisation. He mimics your expression, brows raising as he grins,

"When I what!?" He urges, sitting up,

"Nope! I'm not letting you trick me," You grin as you move to stand. Eddie is quick to grab you by the arm, pulling you back down. With a grin, he leans on you so you're forced to lay down under him,

"Just admit that you like me," He settles. He moves a hand to touch your arms, gently rubbing your skin as you stare at him with an open mouth. His request sounds ridiculous,

"Eddie, I've been letting you live with me in my house for the last four days. I must like you to some degree to allow you to stay here for so long," You tease playfully, "Plus, why am I the one admitting all this stuff to you?" You question, "What if I want you to tell me how much you like me?" You smile at him, moving a hand to touch his neck. It's impossible to miss the way his pupils darken at your words. You let your hand gently caress his skin, letting your fingertips gently trace down his neck, then splaying out so it covers the ink on his skin,

"I do like you," He says in a low tone. You hum in approval, before gently lifting yourself so you're closer to him, and letting your lips touch his. Quickly, he's pressing his tongue to your lips and entering your mouth with a low groan. One of his hands gently reaches out to brush some hairs back from your face, coming to gently rest at the side of your head, "I really, really like you," He pulls away for a moment to tell you. When you open your eyes, they dart to his lips and you grin easily at how they're slightly pinker,

"Just like me?" You tease, grinning as he rolls his eyes, hand gently stroking up and down your arm,

"What do you want me to say, huh?" He grins as he says your name, "You want me to tell you in a poem?" He asks,

"You don't have to," You say, "Though since you insist, I'd greatly appreciate some nice words," You smile softly. He laughs to himself, before nodding for you to move further up your bed. As you do, you pull one of your pillows down under your head for added comfort,

"Something nice, hmm?" He repeats, eyes watching your slow movements, "I'm not used to being nice," He tells you playfully, though his happy and infectious smile proves otherwise,

"Aww come on, you've been plenty nice to me," You tell him as you mess with the pillow, "Reciprocate," You prompt, finally laying back. With anticipation, you watch as he moves over you, settling his arms on either side of your head and looking over your face with those large brown eyes of his. You let him sit between your open thighs, shifting your legs so they're bent at the knee.

His face is relaxed: a small smile stretched over his kissed lips, his hair creating a curtain around you both, so close your breaths gently fan over one another faces. Without thinking, you reach up a hand to gently brush along his lips, feeling the soft skin beneath the pad of your finger. Letting your hand dip down over his chin, your fingertips graze the skin of his neck until they entangle themselves with the necklace loosely handing down his neck. When you look back from your hand to his face, your met with such tender warmth it startles you, lips parting as you take in his gaze. You can see the love in his eyes as he takes in your face. Though it is untouched by make-up to fix any imperfections, and glowing bright in the summer's morning light,  it's still just you. And it's just him above you, loving you for you. Undisturbed in this moment of peace,

"I love you, sometimes more than life itself," He whispers to you. The look on his face is almost surprised at what came from his lips. Like the thought had been running through his head but somehow slipped and escaped past his lips. You blink slowly, fingers halting as they play with the chain, "You just... Waking up with you by my side every morning... I usually stay in bed 'till like, way later in the day," His smile widens as he gently brings a hand up to your cheek, "But when I'm with you... I wake up and sometimes I'm already smiling because I can feel you in my arms. Just the fact that you're here and I'm smiling and I'm just... You just make me feel so happy just by being here," His words warm your heart and prickle tears against your eyes. Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. Holy shit- how did you get so lucky to have someone as kind and sweet as Eddie Munson in your life? "Knowing you're with me, right now... Makes me want to wake up and live," He sighs.

All you can do is laugh, overcome with such happiness and love for him you can't even form words- the joy escaping the confines of your body. The tears that had built up in the corners of your eyes slip down the sides of your cheeks when you close your eyes, though Eddie is quick to wipe your face dry,

"Munson, you really have no idea how sweet you are, huh?" You grin at him, moving your hand to wipe the other side of your face as he grins at you,

"I can be easily persuaded, my love," He says. For another moment, all you can do is look at one another. For a moment you're quiet- you can feel the rapid beating of your heart in your chest, the cool chain around your fingers as you curl them around the metal again. The birds are chirping outside, and you can hear Eddie's gentle breathing. His lips are slightly parted. Then you're gently pulling the chain closer towards you, moving your head up so your lips meet his halfway. He groans into your mouth, muttering a 'fuck' against your lips as you shift your legs around his waist and your arm moves to wrap around his neck, keeping him in place for a moment.

When your grip around him loosens, he's quick to direct his head down to your neck, pressing kisses to the bloom of red and purple he so lovingly left behind those few days ago. At your sighs and gentle moans, he smirks against your skin. You can feel one of his hands sliding up your skin, moving under your shirt and stopping just on your side. His long, slender fingers skim the underside of your breast causing you to shudder. Impatiently, he hums against your wet skin and foregoes removing the shirt covering your chest, moving down your body,

"Eddie?" You question, glancing down at him as he slides his hands down to grab the hem of your underwear, moving to slide them down your legs. He glances up at you, meeting your eyes and giving you a wink before he playfully bites the skin on your hip. In turn, your swat your fingers at his hair, causing him to laugh,

"What?" He asks, sitting up slightly. You toe off the underwear, letting them slip off of your legs and off the side of the bed,

"Usually, I'm the impatient one," You remind him with a smile, eyes fixated on him as he licks his lips, moving his hands over your legs and helping you part them,

"Mhm-" He agrees, glancing up at you, "Problem is I've been thinking about you since I woke up," He smiles, "Yeah, that 'poetry' wasn't just bullshit to please you," He grins, settling between your legs,

"I believed every word, Eds," You assure him, "Even though it didn't rhyme," You add to tease,

"You wanted it to rhyme?" He laughs softly, "Want me to write you a limerick too?" He asks playfully,

"Can you do iambic pentameter?" You say through laughter. His brows crease as he stares at you,

"Can I do what?" He asks amused, sitting up on his forearms and watching you laugh,

"You know like Shakespeare?" You smile. He blinks and you laugh,

"No, I can't do that," He grins at you as you continue to laugh, "I thought you were talking about a new strain or something," He chuckles,

"What?" You laugh more, "Strain? Of weed?" You laugh more as he nods, "Eddie- y-"

"You can't blame me," He complains, "I mean what even is... Whatever you said?"

"It's the way he wrote his plays. Something to do with five syllables," You shrug, "C'mon, Eds, it's like the first thing you learn about the guy!" You grin at him,

"I don't care about dead guys," He mumbles, rolling his eyes and leaning down to press gentle kisses against the inside of your thigh, "Care more 'bout you," He mutters into your skin, and you let out a small breathy laugh as you let your eyes fall shut. Testing the waters, he gently nips at your skin, and though you said you didn't want more hickeys, no one but him would be looking there... He's gentle at first until you feel his lips curl into a grin. Before you can say anything, he gently sucks your skin into his mouth, tongue wetting the flesh and causing your thighs to clench around him, arousal quickly spreading through your core,

"Oh fuck," you hiss, shifting around in an attempt to bring yourself some relief. You sigh at the loss of his lips on your skin when he pulls away, "Eds, c-" you don't get to finish as Eddie is quick to sit up and press his lips back against yours, effectively shutting you up. His kisses are hot, wet and impatient, teeth gently nipping at your lower lip, before he shifts his head from your open and heavy-breathing mouth and trail back down your neck. This time, he pulls away to grab at the hem of your shirt, and you quickly sit up to help him remove it off you, throwing it elsewhere.

Before he can dive back to your chest, you kiss him again, sitting up and leaning into his mouth when his hands grope your chest, squeezing gently and letting his thumbs roll over your pebbled nipples. He directs you to lay back down, giving you a final kiss, before making his way back down your body with a grin.

His head dips between your thighs, his hands sliding over the skin of your hips before settling on your knees, gently separating them. Eddie hooks his hands under your thighs, grinning as you twitch and shiver at his gentle touches. Your skin heats at the feeling of his breath against your bare self, shivering more when it hits your growing wetness. He glances up at you once more, before humming and muttering something. Before you can ask what he said, you feel the gentle swipe of his tongue against you and you moan softly. Though you're quiet, the sound is loud in the quiet of the morning and the silence of your room. Heat continues to flush your cheeks as he gives a few more licks; then his mouth attaches itself to your clit and he sucks gently, occasionally flicking the bud with his tongue. You suck in a breath and snake a hand to his hair, ruffling it and pulling it from his face so it doesn't get in the way. His eyes lock onto yours and you can see him grinning to himself.

He focuses on what he's doing, licking and sucking when your breaths hitch or your moans grow louder, only working you up more. You're trying to be quiet, mindful of the open window, but when he catches on, his smirk widens. He's quick to give a harsh suck, before shifting one of his hands and pressing his middle finger to your entrance. It draws a harsh gasp from you, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth as you moan louder into it. Eddie's grin only widens as you feel his finger slowly slide into you, and when your hips start impatiently bucking against his mouth and finger, he squeezes your hip gently,

"Eddie," You moan, moving your hand off of your mouth and letting it drop onto your chest. When you open your eyes and glance down at him, you see his eyes are already focused on yours- though his movements don't stop. Your cheeks flush again, "Come back," you whine. His only response is a low hum that vibrates along your clit, causing you to gasp, your pussy clenching around his finger,

"Come where?" He teases, pulling out of you and shifting so he's hovering over you, pressing his left hand to the bed near your head. You open your eyes slightly, just so they're half-lidded. His lips are spread into a grin, wide like some maniac, and his chin is glistening with your arousal. He looks so smug when your eyes widen at the sight. Roughly, he wipes his face with the back of his hand, before glancing down your body. He moves his other hand, fingers finding your clit again, still sensitive. You moan at the contact, body twitching from the sensitivity, "Babe," His voice is soft and low, a little sing-songy and expectant, but you can barely hear him, focusing instead on how good he's making you feel. The small, slow circles so easily distract you. It isn't until he says your name and his movements slow to a stop that you finally look at him,

"What...?" you ask shakily, meeting his eyes and blinking rapidly in an attempt to regain yourself, "What?" you repeat, as he laughs,

"You want me to come where I am or with you?" He asks playfully, moving his hand from your pussy and gently caressing your inner thigh. At the loss of contact, you groan slightly in frustration and close your legs around his hand. He only laughs at you, easily pushing your legs apart again,

"You're such an asshole sometimes," You tease, though grin at him. You manage to lift yourself on your arms to kiss him gently. You can taste yourself on his tongue,

"I honestly just wanted to know," He tells you as he pulls away, just enough to speak. His nose bumps against yours. With a small huff, you roll your eyes and shuffle out from beneath him, turning slightly in his arms to pull his bag closer to you, reaching for a condom, "What? It's best to ask questions," He smiles, letting his head drop so he can press a kiss to your shoulder, "So...?" He hums as you sit back up,

"So what?" You ask, raising your brows at him,

"Together or alone?" He watches as your fingers halt in opening the rubber, brow furrowing as you look at him in confusion,

"What does that mean?" You ask,

"Like..." He glances away, tilting his head and letting his hair fall from where he'd moved it behind his shoulders back in front of his face, "...Masturbate together?" He shrugs, watching you. And for some reason, that's the thing that makes your freeze and stare at him with large eyes, pupils twice their usual size, and mouth gaping wordlessly. Not the fact that you're entirely naked, trapped by his arms caging you to your bed; not the fact that he's just been eating you out: the idea of you flicking your bean while you watch him jerk off to you. That, "Not into that, hmm?" He moves like he wants to get up off of you,

"No! No," You say quickly, moving a hand the grab his arm so he stops, relaxing back so he's sitting back on his knees between your legs again, "Just... Why would I watch you and do all that work by myself when I have you to do it for me?" You smile at him. He laughs gently, humoured by your statement,

"I see you're asking the good questions now," He grins, sitting up and plucking the condom out from between your fingers, opening it the rest of the way,

"I always ask good questions," You grin eagerly. You glance down at his hands, then at his boxers. His length is pressing against them- you can see the outline. Without thinking, you sit up more, reaching for the waistband, "For example, why are you so overdressed?" You ask, letting the waistband go so it snaps back against his skin gently. He laughs again, sitting up to remove them, his cock springing free,

"Happy now?" He hums, leaning forward and kissing you before you can answer. Easily, he directs you to lean back to where you were on the bed and explores your mouth with his tongue. You let your hands move onto his shoulders, mindful of the large bruise you had left there, and lightly scratch down his chest. They travel lower until you take hold of his cock, pumping the shaft slightly. He moans into your mouth, the noise muffled.

After he puts the condom on, he presses his hands to your legs, widening them as you guide his cock along your entrance. He slowly inches inside as your breath hitches, and he groans pleasantly leaning over you, kissing your exposed neck,

"Feels good?" He murmurs, lips close to your ear and nipping at your bare earlobe. You let your hands move over onto his back, fingertips dancing along his skin as you smile to yourself and hum affirmatively,

"Really good," You let him know, hissing and moaning pleasantly as he pulls back out to slide back in. He's slow at first, letting you get used to the feeling before leaning forward to kiss you again. Your moans get louder as he starts a slow in-and-out pace, and when he pulls back to breathe into your mouth, he's smirking,

"Babe," He teases, "Unless you want the whole neighbourhood to hear you, you should be a little quieter," He whispers. Considering he's still thrusting relatively slowly inside you, it's hard to focus. Your moans hush as you close your mouth, biting the inside of your cheek to try to keep quiet. They come out muffled and whiney when you tilt your head to press into the pillow. Eddie quickly attaches his lips to your neck again, causing you to moan and clench around him, "Jesus," He groans,

"Am I the only one who's supposed to be quiet?" You grin to yourself, biting down on your bottom lip as he trails his lips down to your chest. Playfully, he bites your nipple, eliciting a sharp whine from you,

"Look who's talking," He smirks, "Besides, "He leans in close to your face, moving one of his hands to your cup your jaw and tilting your head to look at him. Though he's not rough, the act still makes you clench around him harder, "I like listening to you when you're like this," He whispers smiling as you moan again and let your eyes fall shut,

"Fuck- can you go faster?" You breathe, tilting your head to the side and pressing it back into the pillow. He straightens, slowing briefly as he slides his hands around your hips to pull you close. He speeds up like you asked, drawing more moans from you, "Fuck! Like that," You moan. One of your hands coming to rest on your boob, toying with the nipple while your other moves to your clit, quickly beginning to play with it, muscles in your abdomen tightening,

"Jesus Christ," Eddie groans, feeling your walls flutter around him as he moves quickly, cock dissapearing in your pussy. You're a mess- breathing heavily, moans muffled by the pillow and bed squeaking with the force at which Eddie moves. It's possible that anyone passing by very likely knows what you're doing by the sounds alone, but you're too focused on how good this all feels to care,

"Eddie-" You whine again as his cock beings to hit the spot deep inside you that has your legs shaking around him. Your moans turn to desperate whimpers as you work your hand faster against your clit, chasing down a rapidly building orgasm,

"Wait, wait," He breathes, his movements slowing. You open your eyes, blinking at him in confusion. His smile widens slightly when your hand stops moving against your clit, his hands squeezing your hips briefly,

"What, Eds?" Though you're still a little delirious, you manage to lift yourself on your arms slightly, chest rising and falling rapidly, "Something wrong?" You frown slightly as he breathes for a few moments. At your question, he shakes his head, moving a hand up to brush some of the curly bangs that had stuck to his forehead out of the way. He leans forward to gently kiss you, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging gently,

"No, no," He assures you, voice barely coming through from how breathless he is. He's smiling though, which eases your worry, "Everything's perfect- it always is with you, baby," He adds. A warmth spreads through your chest- you're glad he feels safe with you, especially in such intimate moments. Though it's usually the other way around- him checking in on you- you want to make sure he's okay too,

"Then what's up?" You move a hand behind your head to gather your hair, manoeuvring it so that when you lay back, it's not in the way. While you do so, he slips out of you, and though you miss the contact and fullness he provided, you're still watching him quizically. One of his hands trails from your hips to your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin making you shiver and tense beneath his touch,

"I had an idea..." He says, "I just think we should make use of that lovely mirror of yours," He tells you, nodding his head in it's direction. With a relieved smile, you manoeuvr onto your stomach, Eddie's hands never leaving your hips. Once you're settled, he shifts around behind you, pulling your hips closer to him and finally settling. You turn your head to the side and watch him from the mirror in your room, smile widening as you see him lean over and press a gentle kiss to your back. His gaze meets yours in the mirror and he grins, playfully biting you,

"Eddie!" You whine, pressing your face into the pillows as he laughs behind you,

"What? Can't help myself, you're just... There," You can hear the smirk that's no doubt plastered to your face, but can't find the words when he slides his fingers along your sensitive cunt again, gathering your wetness. The contact makes gasp as your hips stutter, though Eddie's quick to pull you back towards him. You sigh softly as you feel him gently pressing his cock to your wet folds, rubbing the slick along his length. Your eyes fall shut as he slowly inches inside you, the new angle making your squirm against him. Your moans are thankfully muffled by the pillow, and once he's fully inside, you hear him groan, "Fucking... Christ," He hisses. You feel him leaning over you, pressing gentle kisses to your back, then shoulder, then neck, "Open your eyes, babe," He murmurs against your skin. Slowly, you oblige, tilting your head so your eyes meet his in the mirror. He grins, pressing his mouth against your neck and humming pleasantly as he sucks on the skin gently, beginning to move in and out of you,

"Jesus, Eds, you're really deep," You exhale, pressing your face back into the pillow to silence yourself. His lips detatch from your neck and move to your back, nipping at the skin. You can feel yourself clenching around him, "Eddie," You whine,

"What?" He grins pleasantly against your skin "You like that?" He murmurs lowly, the pace of his thrusts increasing, squeezing your hips gently,

"Mhm," You hum, looking at him through the mirror, "A lot,"

The sound of skin slapping skin soon fills the room as he speeds up, mixed with your soft moans and his gentle grunts and groans of pleasure. As much as you want to watch the images of you fucking in the mirror, you can't contain the way your eyes are rolling back into your skull, your moans growing louder the more vigorous his thrusts become,

"Christ- you feel so good," He hisses, ramming his hips into yours hard,

"Eddie- fuck, I'm gonna cum," You moan beneath him, feeling one of his hands move to start quickly rubbing his fingers against your clit,

His touch alone is enough to make you come undone, moaning loudly into the pillow as your pussy clenches around him. That's all it takes for him to finish, spilling himself inside the condom with groans and moans of your name leaving his lips as he stills inside you, breathing heavily.

You find yourself unable to move, exhausted and trapped by Eddie's hands still leaving a bruising grip on the flesh of your hips, caging you to the bed. You feel a weight on your back, and opening an eye to look in the mirror, you find Eddie leaning down over you, forehead touching your back. He's smiling, and you watch him move a shaky hand from the side of the bed to touch your leg. Soothingly, he caresses where his fingernails pressed cresent-shaped indents into your flesh. Your eyes fall shut again, and it feels like you're flying. Like your falling asleep still drunk.

The first thing you feel when you come back to reality is his lips pressing to your shoulder blade, moving up to your neck. Then his hair is tickling your skin as he reaches your shoulder. Then you hear your name leaving his lips in a soft whisper. The hand moving against your leg moves to gently grip your arm, squeezing once,

"You okay?" His voice is soft; you can still hear his laboured breaths, the warmth fanning over your cheek. He's right next to your ear, quiet not to startle you. With a small, reassuring hum, and a slight nod of your head, he finally moves. With a sigh, his arms unhook themselves from around your waist and he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and still so, so tired.

You can feel the bed dip and move as he moves off of it, pausing at the edge, before standing up. There's more shuffling around, and you hear a zip. It could either be the sipper of his jeans or his bag. Either way, he's dressed. He leaves momentarily, only to return shortly after,

"Hey," His hand gently touches your shoulder and you tiredly lift your head, blinking up at him. He's holding a cloth, "Let me help you clean up, okay babe?" Eddie smiles and helps you lift yourself up to sit, "You're also gonna have to drink that," He motions to the cup of water beside your bed. You must have dozed off and not realised he went downstairs to get it. Smiling tiredly you nod, cleaning yourself off and grabbing the water, "I'm gonna take a shower by the way," He says once you set the glass down. He moves to stand near the bed, reaching out to move some hair behind your ear and letting his hand slowly move from your face to your chin. He tilts your head up so you're looking at him, "You did so well for me," He mutters; your heart flutters at the praise, "If you're that tired, you're welcome to go back to sleep. I can deal with a few minutes alone," He tells you playfully, before leaning down to kiss your head. Though his offer is tempting, considering how heavy your limbs feel and how your eyes are struggling to remain open, you groan and flop back on the bed, "Back to sleep it is," He smiles. Before he leaves, he grabs a blanket you'd discarded on your desk chair, delicately draping it over your form before your reality and consciousness fade away.

"Hey," You can't remember the dream you were having, it fades away before you can even process it, but nonetheless, Eddie's voice brings you back from sleep. It's a small whisper, from somewhere far away in your room. You can hardly hear him, though you stir as he approaches, "Did you fall asleep?" He asks- you can hear the smile in his voice. The fresh smell of apple scented shampoo hits you, and a smile involuntarily comes to your lips, "Shit- did I wake you?" He asks. You open your eyes and tilt your head, finding him watching you with an apologetic look. His hair's still damp,

"Yeah- but it's okay," You hum, groaning slightly as you stretch out on your bed and rub your eyes,

"Sorry," You hear him mumble, and the bed dips as he moves to sit down next to you. When you finish with your eyes, you blink slowly at him. He's holding out a black shirt to you, very likely his. It smells clean though. Looking back at him, there's a loving smile on his lips, "Need me to bring you anything, my love? Breakfast in bed?" Though he means well, the sentence makes you laugh. You stretch your hand out towards him to grab the shirt, fingers skimming over the fabric,

"Is it gonna be cereal again?" You ask playfully, and he laughs to himself. On your first valentines days together, he had brought you a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch with two spoons, and though it was ridiculous, you greatly appreciated it,

"It can be," He smiles, as he moves the shirt closer to you, then leans forward to kiss your forehead, "I'm gonna head down but I can make you coffee," He tells you. One of his hands moves up to shift some hair from your face, your eyes falling shut at the gesture, "Still tired?" He asks in amusement,

"Who's fault do you think that is?" You tease, opening your eyes to catch the flash of his teeth as he laughs. He kisses the side of your head, then your lips and stands,

"I'll see you downstairs, babe," Eddie tells you, "Don't sleep for too long!" You sit up, bunching the sheets around you and rubbing at your eyes,

"Or what? You'll get bored without me?" He stops at your door, catching himself on the door frame. He tilts his head to look at you with a grin,

"Sure. I might just drop dead from heartbreak," He winks playfully,

"Please don't," You frown, giving him a pleading look. He simply grins,

"No promises," He places his fingers to his lips and motions towards you and you laugh loudly, flopping back on the bed. You hear the sound of his footsteps descending down the hall, then the stairs, and then it goes quiet. You let out a sigh. You are exhausted, but you don't want to fall back asleep. In general, you just feel tired- not lazy, just tired. You don't want to move...

But you have to. You don't want to waste the day, especially considering how little time you have left with Eddie. A small frown crosses your lips- this'll be over soon. Living together like this with no worries. Just living... Alone. It was so calm and pleasant. Even during your breaks from school, you wouldn't get a lot of peace- your siblings running rampant through the house at the asscrack of dawn and not letting you get any rest when you most deserved it, or bursting into your room and trying to distract you from your work.

Though you loved your family, you realised quickly how much more... Relieving it was to be without them. Though you missed them, you didn't want them to come back. If you could just stay like this, with Eddie, and occasionally your cat... It'd be perfect.

You never fully believed in the idea of soulmates. Sure, you'd see love on the television and in movies but never imagined you'd find anything remotely similar... Then along came Eddie. He loved you... He loved you, he loved you. And you loved him back, and would be perfectly content spending every single waking moment in his company.

He wasn't even gone for a whole ten minutes and you already missed him... You stretched out your legs, wincing slightly at the burn in your muscles and sat up. You should wash your hair...

Eddie isn't in the living room or kitchen when you get down, still messing with your freshly washed and dried hair, though the back door is open and plumes of smoke can be seen from outside the window. You turn the radio on downstairs, catching the end of the weather forecast. You smile in relief as the announcer forecasts that it'll rain later today.

You make a quick breakfast of toast- forgetting how good such a simple thing as bread and butter could be- and sip on the warm coffee made by your boyfriend. His empty mug is already in the sink, though you find no plate. You make him toast as well, cutting the two slices into forths and picking one up, sticking it between your teeth,

"Hey, babe?" Eddie's voice calls out from outside, causing you to tilt your head towards the sound. There are more clouds in the sky than there was yesterday,

"What's up?" You ask, briefly removing the toast from your lips. Hearing no response from him intrigues you. Picking up the plate, you slowly make your way through the open garden door, "Eddie?" You ask curiously, looking out into the garden.

Eddie is crouched out in the grass, far back in your yard, cigarette idly smoking from between his lips and twitching slightly as he talks so quietly you can't hear him. He's still shirtless, the morning sun warming his back and heating his wavy hair. In the soft light of morning, you could see the dark curls were a wonderful dark brown. Next to him, Clara rolled on her back, paws wildly swatting at a piece of grass he waved around for her like a toy, occasionally stopping to let her catch it before prying it from her grasp to flick it over her face. This time, she catches it in her mouth and bites it; you watch him struggle to pry it from her grip. Your lips curl into a smile as you hear him laugh gently, saying something to her, and turning his head glancing around in search of a longer grass stem. He plucks it, glancing at her and making a face, saying something again, before waving the new grass piece over her. She pauses in chewing, before attacking wildly at the new blade of grass.

The sight alone warms you more than the sunlight, spreading through your chest and heating your cheeks are you take a step out onto the grass, the fresh morning dew cooling the bottoms of your bare feet. He glances up once he realises you're outside and moves a hand to shield his eyes from the light. Playfully you stick you tongue out at him,

"Hey," He says with a grin, teeth glistening in the light,

"Hi, Eddie," You say,

"What d'you have?" He asks before you can say anything else. You shift so you stand in front of the sun so he doesn't have to squint up at you. He nods to the plate in your hands as he takes a drag of the cigarette,

"Just some toast and butter," You tell him, lowering the plate to show him the few slices. He gasps quietly to himself as if you're showing him something truly great, like state secrets or a five-star, gourmet meal. He eagerly reaches for a slice, biting into it with a grin,

"Mmm, yum," He says over a mouthful. You laugh- but you can't blame him. This was your third slice just this morning, it was simply that good, "Thanks!" He adds, glancing back at Clara. You glance between them, watching him expectantly as he now reaches his hand down to pet her head,

"You called for me?" You remind as you straighten up. He looks back at you, confused at first, before he lights up, nodding,

"Oh, yeah-" Eddie straightens quickly, brushing some grass that clung to his jeans, before looking back at you. He quickly finishes the toast and you smile at the sight of some crumbs sticking to his cheek. You look at him curiously, before glancing down at Clara as she meows, her face meeting your leg as she rubs against it. From your peripheral, you can see one of Eddie's hands it tucked behind his back. He removes it, handing you something. Your eyes widen at the small gathering of field flowers in his hand, "Got these for you," He says happily, eagerly presenting them to you,

"I-" The words you want to say escape you, losing themselves somewhere on your tongue. You find yourself only blinking at him, then at the makeshift bouquet. With a small smile, you reach for them, hand brushing his warm skin as you turned them over. Your fingers gently skin over the tiny petals, "Why did...?" You begin quizzically, though you still can't find the right words. Besides, the bright smile on your face was making your cheeks hurt,

"Cause I wanted to," He says simply, the cigarette returning between his lips as he takes a drag. One of his hands moves to your face, touching your cheek delicately. His long fingers curl under your chin to prompt you to tilt your head up to him. When your eyes meet his, he moves the cig away, quickly pressing his lips against yours. The smoke enters your mouth as his tongue parts your lips, quickly moving against yours. With a surprised moan, you kissed him back, though he pulls away, to your disappointment, a large grin spreading across his lips,

"Wha...?" You feel dazed, head spinning,

"I thought they were pretty. Like you," He tilts his head, winking at you and patting your face gently, before his attention focuses back on your cat, "Ew, what are you doing, Clary?" He says as he crouches back down to meet her,

The kiss had left you starstruck, courtesy of him shotgunning the smoke to you, and along with the sweet gesture of gathering up flowers for you, your heart pounded in your chest, clenching with emotion. Holy fucking shit... Glancing back down, you let out an involuntary, happy laugh, setting a hand on his head and ruffling his pleasantly, sun-warmed hair,

"She eats grass to help her with digestion and stuff like that," You said softly, once you'd regained your composure, eyes flicking back to the bunch of daisies in your hand,

"Like a little cow," He smiled, reaching out to poke her nose, then standing back up next to you, leaving Clara to eat the grass. Your hand remained in his hair, allowing itself to tangle in the locks hanging by his shoulders. He turned his head to look at you with a small, fond smile, before leaning closer to you as if he wanted to kiss you again. He said your name instead, prompting you to hum inquisitively, "When you're not looking, I'm gonna steal your cat," He said with a toothy grin, making you laugh as he taps the ash off his cigarette off to the side,

"Eddie- no, please don't steal my cat," You grin, glancing at Clara. She had moved to watch you, then let out a small meow as she moved a few paces into the comforting shade of one of the apple trees, laying down on the cool grass, "See? She likes it here," You gesture to her,

"She likes it there 'cause you're not there," He teases, pointing to her with two fingers, the cig between them. You let your jaw go slack in mock shock, though you laughed and smacked his shoulder with your fingertips,

"She's my cat and I feed her every day?" You smiled, moving to stand in front of him,

"Mmm- that's not true. I fed her this morning," He said proudly, "And why did she leave as soon as you came over huh?" He grins,

"Wait you fed her?" He nods, "But I also fed her..." You glance at Clara, dozing happily in the shade by a couple of green apples, prematurely fallen and rotting brown. Eddie hums, and shrugs,

"Guess she's eating like a king!" He grins,

"No, you can't overfeed her, Eddie," You smile, "Otherwise, she gets greedy and swats at us until we feed her,"

"Aww, she can eat as much food as she wants," He says, grinning and walking to her again, petting her,

"Eddie, she can't," You join him, crouching next to him and gently petting her head. She purrs contently at the two hands scratching her head and chin,

"King Clara... That's got a ring to it, you know?" He smiles, glancing over at you and grabbing the final slice of toast from the plate, biting it, "I'll make you a little crown to wear," he tells the cat proudly. She leans forward, sniffing at the slice in his hands, and you watch as he breaks off a small piece, holding it out for her,

"Eddie, no," You say, sighing as she eagerly eats it, "We're not supposed to feed her human food or she'll steal it from our plates," You tell him,

"Boring," He says, patting Clara's head and eating the toast, "Come live with me, oh fair and great King Clara- I'll feed you sardines and buttered toast all day," You laugh at his proposal,

"Damn, that sounds... Extravagant," You stand, grinning at him, "And with a crown all to herself? Why can't I have one?"

"You're not a cat," He stands too, catching you rolling your eyes,

"C'mon, Eds," You smiled, "Let's go back inside before you get sunburned," You smiled, "You're so pale," You prodded the skin of his shoulder, smiling at the white ring your finger left behind in his skin and how rapidly it faded to the gentle red. He hisses,

"Ahh, a little late for that, sweetheart," He smiled, though nod towards your house and fall into step beside you as you walked back,

"Eddie-" You sighe, shaking your head,

"How can I resist the lovely weather outside?" He said sarcastically, gesturing to the cloudy sky, "Besides, aren't you gonna take care of me?" You roll your eyes as you walk inside,

"That's not my job," You tease,

"Bet you'd want it to be your job," He mumbles playfully, leaning his face close to yours. With a laugh and another eye roll, you set your hand on his face to gently push him away,

"Nah. I wouldn't want to be paid for something I already do from the kindness in my heart," You said playfully, winking at him,

"Romantic," He comments, "Do you have any cardboard on hand?" You furrow your brows at his request, "For the crown?"

"You were serious?"

"Yeah, and I also need some paints," He tells you, a grin on his lips. With a hum, you glance into the living room and go to your storage closet, digging through all the stuff thrown in there. Boxes of Christmas decorations; old toys no one wanted anymore. You make a face at a teddy bear you couldn't fall asleep without when you were a child, reaching out to poke its button nose and glancing up at the one button eye. Damn. Memories. Glancing through the dim room, your eyes set on the box with 'art stuff' roughly scrawled on it, with a flat piece of cardboard next to it. You grab it, pull it out and throw it outside on the floor for Eddie to take, 

"I think there should be some paint here" You call to him, grabbing the box and taking it outside to see through it more clearly. You smile at the unopened box of paints, handing it up to him,

"Thanks!" He grins, taking them from you and opening them,

"They're unopened too," You tell him, "Oh, you can paint that in the living room if you want," You offer, "We can watch TV,"

"Sure," He says, "Damn, we really counted on 'The Thing' to entertain us for a whole week," He huffs,

"Yeah," You frown, glancing towards the living room, "I don't really feel like leaving the house today though," You frown at him, seeing him nod,

"Me either- do you have any paper plates?" He asks, "If you put paint on them you can just throw it away instead of cleaning them," He smiles as you go looking,

"Sure," You mutter as you search for a plate for him, lost in thought, "Hmm... Oh, you know what-" You quickly add, sliding the plate over the table and quickly running up the stairs. Though your oldest brother specifically hated you going into his room, he wasn't here to scream and yell at you for touching his stuff now. It almost surprised you the door wasn't barred shut from your curious snooping when you got to his room. You quickly made your way to his VHS collection, flipping through the movies.

The asshole had bought 'Alien' for himself behind your back. You could still clearly recall how he told you it was the scariest thing he'd seen when you left the theatre that evening. 'Ghostbusters' and 'Neverending Story' were also there- along with a few more horror films you didn't recognise and a couple of Disney films you had enjoyed from your childhood.  You grabbed a few of the tapes before heading downstairs,

"Woah- where'd you find those?" Eddie asks. He moved to the living room like you had offered, sitting on the floor at the coffee table, legs stretched out under it. The box of 'art stuff' was open next to him, the things inside having clearly been rifled through. There's some paintbrushes placed bristles down in a cup of water, and there's already some paint on the paper plate you got him. Currently, he's cutting a rectangle out of the card, making sure the edges are even. Clara is laying in his lap as he smokes another cigarette, an ashtray sitting beside him on the table, along with various materials strewn around the coffee table,

"My brother- I knew he had a few tapes but I didn't know he had such..." You sit on the couch and push a few things away, setting the tapes down one by one on the table, "A collection," You say,

"He's seen 'The Shining'?" He asks amused, taking the tape and looking over it,

"Apparently," You shrug,

"This is the same brother who started crying when the xenomorph came out of Kane's chest?" He asks amused as you start laughing at the memory,

"Yeah- I laughed at him the whole way home," You grin as you wave the 'Alien' VHS around and set it down. It's in far better condition than the one you rented. His eyes widen,

"He has it!?" Eddie grabs that tape eagerly, looking it over,

"I guess. He's either really into Sigourney Weaver, or he's not a pussy anymore," You smirk, glancing over the other tapes. Eddie snorts,

"He's just really into Sigourney Weaver, babe," He teases, grinning as he hands you back the tape. You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder, "'Chopping Mall'?" He says, furrowing his brows at the tape,

"Yeah, I haven't heard of it before. Something about... Robots? Killing people in a mall?" You shrug. He hisses,

"Maybe your brother just likes watching robots kill people..." He takes a drag of his cigarette, a thoughtful look crossing his face, "Does he, by any chance..." He smirks as you give him a sceptical look, "Like the 'Terminator'?" You pause to think,

"Yes... He does..." You hum, "He's got a big poster of the... Yeah," You nod in realisation,

"Maybe he's a nihilist," Eddie says, looking proud of himself,

"Yeah. Or an anarchist," You shrug,

"Mmmh- he would dress like an anarchist if he was one," He says, putting the cigarette back between his teeth and reaching for a paintbrush. He begins painting on the small rectangle of cardboard in plain white, "Nihilist,"

"Anarchy's more about watching the world burn right?" You say, "Nihilism is the whole 'life is meaningless' bullshit," He glances up at you, "If we're talking robots killing humans, that's anarchy,"

"Anarchy is standing up to 'the man'," Eddie corrects, "Chaos, if you will. Disorder," he adds, glancing back at the cardboard he's painting, "Wanting to watch robots kill humans..." He pauses,

"I don't think there's a term for that," You hum,

"No- why would there be?" He smiles, "Unless..." Eddie turns to you, eyes wide,

"Unless what?"

"Unless your brother is a robot," You laugh, "It makes sence- why else would he like all those robot-killing-humans movies?"

"Maybe he just likes that?" You laugh still,

"Or-" Eddie gives you a look, "-He's a killer robot in disguise," He adds,

"You can ask him if you really wanna know," You say, picking up 'The Shining' tape. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking back to your thoughts earlier that morning and thinking, "After all, he's coming home in like... Three days," You say, dejected. Eddie glances up at you, picking up on your tone shift,

"What's up?" He asks, putting the paintbrush back in the water pot and picking his cigarette up from where he'd let it rest in the ashtray while he painted,

"It's... We only have three days left together," You frown softly, setting the rest of the tapes on the ground and moving to lie down on your back, "Then my family gets back and we won't be together anymore," You finally realise,

"Already missing me?" He smiles, trying to lift the mood,

"You know what I mean, Eds," You sigh as you glance over at him. Because your head's tilted to an angle, he tilts his too, making you smile and roll your eyes,

"We'll still be together," Eddie reminds you, "Just because we won't be together physically all the time. You can always come over to the trailer for a sleepover," He adds, "Wayne works the nights at the plant,"

"I guess," You sigh, "But that's not the same..." You fall quiet. Maybe you said too much. The last thing you would want is to scare him away by being too open. After all, you only just said 'I love you' to one another,

"Why?" He asks, watching you. You don't want to reply, don't want to admit your true feelings. He calls your name, prompting you to look at him again, "What's going on? You're being really quiet," He points out, 

"You never complain that I'm too quiet," You huff, watching him smile,

"And I never will. Be as loud as you want, sweetheart," He smiles. Watching your face fall and look back at the ceiling makes him hum. Eddie carefully moves Clara off his lap, patting her head in apology and stubbing out the cigarette, before shuffling over to you. He leans against the arm of the couch, looking down at you, "What's on your mind?" He asks, 

"It's scary," You say in a quiet voice, moving your hand over your eyes so you won't have to look at him, 

"Scary how? Oh God, you're not planning on killing me are you?" He laughs at his own joke. You oblige him with a slight smile, "Are you the human killing robot?" He adds. You do appreciate his attempts at making you feel better but your mind is focused elsewhere, "Hey, c'mon laugh that was funny," He taps your hand, making you laugh softly, 

"Sorry, sorry," You say, moving your hand above your head and sighing. You can feel his fingers gently touching the center of your palm. You meet his eyes again, the warm brown calming your worries for a moment. Maybe he'll think it's weird, but he'll listen. You know he will, "You... Ever think about the future?" You ask softly, 

"Sure," He shrugs, "Though mine doesn't include robots killing humans, I still think about it," He smiles, "Why?"

"I... After High school. What do you think you'll be doing?" He goes quiet for a moment, thinking, 

"Maybe... I'll get a job?" He says, "Wayne taught me how to fix the van, considering we were a little tight on cash last summer and couldn't take it down to get it fixed at the car shop. And my dear old dad taught me a thing or two about cars," He says with resentment, "I think I could pick a few things up there," He shrugs, "Play at the Hideout on the side," He looks at you, "Make enough money to get you and me out of here," The statement catches you off guard,

"You... And me?" You ask, sitting up slightly and turning to look at him with a quizzical look, 

"Me and you, babe," He smiles watching you. He brings a knee up and leans his arm on it with a small sigh, the puppetmaster tattoo on the inside of his arm becomes visible to you, "But yeah," He shrugs, "If you wanna come with me, we'll leave together,"

"Leave where?" You can't help the smile now spreading across your lips, 

"Anywhere you want," He smiles, "As long as you promice we can bring Clara," At that you laugh, 

"Oh, right I forgot you were only here for my cat," You say, smiling as she climbs into Eddie's lap again, 

"Yeah," He grins, scratching behind her ears, "We can't leave her behind," He says, glancing up at you with a pout, 

"Right," You say, "Even though she's my family cat?"

"They won't mind," He waves a hand at you as you laugh, "But yeah. Is that what you've been worried about?" He looks back at you, 

"Well yeah," You shrug, "And I just thought... We haven't been together that long-"

"Seven months isn't long for you?" He asks surprised, 

"It is! I mean- I feel like I've known and been with you for so long it feels like forever- if that even makes sense," You smile, "Just... I don't know- I think I was worried over nothing again," He chuckles softly, 

"That's kinda sweet," He glances from Clara back up to you, smirking when you make a face, "At least I know you like me for real now," He says, 

"You had doubts?" You ask playfully,

"Not doubts," Eddie assures you quickly, "It's more like... Reassurance of something I already knew," He said, watching you for a moment. 

Finding someone like him was truly remarkable, and you'd be forever thankful Mr Richards had seated you near the metalhead, and that you had offered him help with his History assignment. You'd been happier than ever before for those delightful seven months, and his casual assurance he wanted you around for more than that made your heart soar. Before you could cry over him again, you sit up, 

"Where're you going?" Eddie asks, amused as you quickly hop over the back of the couch and head for the stairs, 

"I'll come back!" You yell, running up the stairs, 

"Can you bring me a shirt!?" He yells after you. You're back in less than a minute, throwing the shirt over to him so it lands on the couch. He moved back to where he was sitting at the coffee table, going over the white again, "Thanks!" He says, setting the paintbrush down so he can put the shirt on, "Why did-" His eyes flick over the item in your hands as you sit back on the couch with a grin.

"You never showed me that magic trick of yours," You grin at him, extending the pack of cards in one hand toward him. His mouth opens, before he grins and takes the cards from you,

"What magic trick?" He grins as he begins to shuffle through them,

"Where you lying?" You accuse,

"No, no! I was being serious! I just didn't think you'd actually wanna see it," He says, glancing from you to the cards,

"Of course I'd want to see," You smile, "Are you gonna find an 'Ace of Spades' for me?" You smile knowingly, hearing the Motörhead song start playing on the radio. Eddie laughs to himself, before he stops shuffling and lifts his head up to listen to the song. You laugh loudly as he gasps, 

"Did you-" He grins, 

"I did!" You laugh, 

"Nice," He chuckles, "You wanna see the magic or not?" He says, 

"I do, I do," You smile, watching as he pats the floor in front of the couch, silently asking you to join him. You watch him fan out the cards for you, "Pick any?" You ask as you reach for the cards, 

"Not that one!" He grins as you pull your hand away, "I'm kidding, pick any, yeah," Hum softly, taking a card from the fan, 

"Do I tell you?" 

"You can tell me,"

"It's the nine of hearts," You say, flipping it around to show him as he moves the card back to their pile, 

"That's a good card," Eddie smiles, "Put it at the top here," He says, tapping the cards, "Okay, watch," He tells you, halving the deck of cards and shuffling it, "Okay, it's shuffled right? But you're gonna find your own card," He stopping shuffling and holding the deck out, "I'm gonna go through it, you say stop," He says, ruffling the cards, 

"Stop," You say, watching his hands intently. He opens the cards, and flips the one you stopped at, "Holy shit, what the fuck?" You grin at the nine of hearts, "How d-"

"Magicians don't reveal their secrets!" He quickly says, smiling as he shuffles the deck again, 

"But we're dating! You can tell me," You grin, 

"Nope, it doesn't work like that," You pout, "It's all sleight of hand, that's as much as I'll say," 

"Sleight of hand," You mutter sarcastically, 

"Yeah, it means I'm good with my hands," He sets the deck back down with a cocky smile. You roll your eyes, "I'm not hearing any complaints," You laugh as he pats your knee and turns back to painting, "So are we watching 'The Shining' or 'Neverending Story'?" He asks, 

"I'd rather see the spooky murder hotel and not Artax dying," You say, grabbing the tape with Jack Torrance's unhinged face and standing, 

"It's 'REDRUM', babe," He grins as he grabs the yellow paint, covering the layers of built-up white,

"Right, how could I forget," You smile as you set the tape into your player and move to grab some beers from the kitchen, 

"Have you read the book?" He calls out to you, 

"Have you?" You ask back, 

"Yeah," He smiles, "Steven King knows a few things about horror," He smiles, 

"Just a few?" You tease as you join him again, setting the beer down for him and moving to sit on the couch, 

"Just a few," He winks at you as you click play on the remote.

[whumpwriterforlife]

Febuwhump 2022, Head Wound - Summary

Cor groaned, jolted back into awareness as the seatbelt caught him harshly across the chest to keep him in his seat. There was a weird, red-orange glow coming through the windshield. Wesk cursed up a storm. Everyone was shouting questions, angry and confused, but Cor ignored them as he leaned towards Clarus to catch a better look at whatever was behind the glow.

There, on the road a few hundred feet ahead was a giant daemon, holding just as huge a flaming sword in its grasp.

Read on AO3 or below - (fic takes place when the OG bros are young)

The low, familiar whir of the Regalia’s engine was almost enough to lull Cor to sleep. Almost. He leaned his head against the cool window and exhaled, wrapping a blanket more tightly around himself. Next to him, Regis and Clarus were fast asleep and hogging annoyingly much space for themselves while all he was left with was a tiny nook in one corner of the backseat. If Cor had been feeling any more petty, he would have kicked them. Unfortunately he was too tired to really retaliate. He threw the blanket over his head to shield himself from the bright headlights as they came across the first other vehicle in forever. Not many people were stupid or desperate enough to drive outside of town without proper demon repelling headlights during nighttime.

“Unable to sleep, Cor?” Weskham asked from the driver’s seat. His voice was low and soothing enough not to wake the others but still loud enough for Cor to clearly make out the words.

Cor sighed as he pushed the blanket down to his lap. “Don’t know why. I’m tired— I want to sleep.”

“We had an eventful day,” Wesk said. Cor could vaguely make out his face in the rear-view mirror. “The mind can be exhausted and realize the need for rest, but sometimes the body takes longer to catch up. I would recommend mindfulness but I know how you feel about it.”

“Bleurgh ,” Cor scrunched up his nose. Wesk had gotten him to try it out a few times but it wasn’t nothing but incredibly boring to him. At least the man had realized his error and stopped pushing it. “Is there not, like, some magic that could be used to knock me out for the night?”

“I’m afraid not,” Wesk laughed. “Well, technically there is such magic, but it is highly dangerous and should only be used on one’s enemy. You will have to try other means to fall asleep. I think Regis might have a thermos of tea at his feet if you’re able to reach there.”

Cor slowly turned to look at the sleeping Prince and his Shield and huffed. “Not without waking them up.”

“Ah, in that case I suggest you forget about that. It would be an inconvenience if a fight were to break out before we’re back in civilization.”

Cor rolled his eyes. He tucked his feet onto the seat — very aware of how annoyed it would make certain occupants of the car — and once again adjusted the blanket around him. He just wanted to sleep. Was that really too much to ask? “I guess I’ll just suffer then.”

There was an amused huff from the front seat. “Close your eyes, Cor. A trick that has helped me fall asleep many a time is to take slow, deep breaths while imagining each part of my body — starting from the toes — relax and fall heavy with sleep. You could always give that a try.”

“Thanks,” Cor muttered in response. It was worth a try at least. If it didn’t help him sleep, at least it would help him pass time. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Night.”

“Good night, Cor.”

It turned out that Wesk’s trick was actually helpful. After only a few minutes, Cor could feel his body and mind grow heavy. He welcomed it with open arms, face buried into the soft blanket as sleep came to claim him.

Then there were tires screeching. Cor groaned, jolted back into awareness as the seatbelt caught him harshly across the chest to keep him in his seat. There was a weird, red-orange glow coming through the windshield. Wesk cursed up a storm. Everyone was shouting questions, angry and confused, but Cor ignored them as he leaned towards Clarus to catch a better look at whatever was behind the glow.

There, on the road a few hundred feet ahead was a giant daemon, holding just as huge a flaming sword in its grasp.

“Oh shit,” he gasped, eyes wide as he clicked off the seatbelt and latched onto the driver’s seat to pull himself forward. “What the fuck is that?”

“A red giant,” Clarus hissed. He pushed Cor back into his seat. “Grab your weapons, we need to fight it.”

“But shouldn’t the headlights be enough to scare it away?” Regis asked. The backseat was growing increasingly cramped with the three of them moving around and Cor muttered a curse.

“Does it look like it’s scared?” Clarus exclaimed and pointed at the daemon that was still approaching them.

“Good point.” Regis grimaced. “Let’s take care of this then, shall we? There are bound to be more daemons somewhere nearby, and I would rather not spend the whole night here.”

“Right,” Cor sighed as he pushed his door open and climbed out. Adrenaline would most likely kick in soon, but at the moment he was too tired to be excited over a fight. Regis seemed to notice this and gave him an amused look. Cor flipped him off as he summoned his katana. “The one to land the finishing blow gets to sit shotgun!”

He took off running. In a moment Regis had warped to him, and before he could tell him not to, the man took him by the hand and warped them right at the feet of the daemon. Cor groaned as a sick feeling swirled in his stomach, but Regis only laughed at him before unleashing a barrage of attacks against the red giant.

“You suck!” Cor shouted. Regis’ response was to laugh harder. Cor shook his head with an annoyed huff and went on to attack the daemon. Fortunately the sick feeling dissipated fast as the adrenaline kicked in. He grinned. The thrill of a fight never got old. He sunk his blade deep into the leg of the daemon, causing it to roar and stumble back. The large flaming sword came at him, but it was easy enough for him to dodge. Gunshots pelted its upper body as Wesk joined the fight from the distance.

Regis left behind flashes of blue as he kept warping around the beast and landing hits with both his sword and daggers. Clarus was trying to keep up with him, and Cor snorted a laugh as he heard the man curse Regis and tell him to slow down and stick close to him. As if that was going to happen.

The fight continued like that, a group effort that Cid eventually joined as well after finishing his leisurely walk over to them. To his credit, he did also have a gun on him and hadn’t left them on their own, but Cor was still going to poke some fun at him and call him an old man after the fight was over. Regis couldn’t even wait that long and shouted, “About time you got here, gramps, can’t you run anymore?”

“Shut it, boy!” Cid shouted back at him as he changed his gun for a hammer. “Don’t you forget I can still beat you fair and square in a fight!”

Cor laughed and ducked to avoid getting smacked upside the head by Regis as he warped by. He threw himself back into the fight and tuned out most of the banter. The red giant was surprisingly fast on its feet but Cor still managed to land a couple of good hits that almost got him flattened into a pancake as the daemon swung its huge sword at him. There were a few close calls but they were a tight knit group and worked well together to recover from those.

It worked until the daemon managed to smack Regis down.

“Regis!” Cor shouted as he saw his friend fall down in an unmoving heap on the ground. He took off in his direction. “Cover us!”

He skidded to a halt next to Regis and dropped down on his knees, heart hammering against his chest with barely contained fear. He reached for his pulse. “Regis!”

“‘m alright,” Regis groaned, and swatted Cor’s hand away as he rolled onto his side with a pained hiss. He pulled out a faintly glowing flask out of the armiger and smashed it over himself. The lines of tension on his face immediately receded. “Son of a bitch got lucky hit in, that’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re fine? Maybe you should sit out the rest of the fight, we’ve got this,” Cor told him as he tried to assess Regis’ condition. He couldn’t see any serious injuries but it was almost pitch black so it wasn’t exactly reassuring. “Let me help you back to the car.”

“No, I can still fight,” Regis shook his head sharply. He braced one hand against the ground and started to leverage himself into a sitting position. Cor huffed and leaned forward to help him up.

“Listen to the kid, Reggie!” Clarus shouted somewhere behind them. “We’ve got this!”

“See?” Cor said. Regis shot him a dirty look but it wasn’t all that effective as his face drew into a pained grimace. Cor’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not letting you back into the fight.”

“Since when are you making good decisions?” Regis muttered but didn’t resist as Cor started leading them back towards the Regalia and Wesk.

“Screw you,” Cor hissed at him. He pointedly did not pout.

Regis let out a laugh that ended with him wincing. “I think I will have some spectacular bruises to remind me of this fight.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for getting yourself smacked around like that.”

“You’re a little shit, you know?” Regis’ eyes narrowed.

Cor smirked. “I may have been told that once or twice.”

Suddenly there was a loud roar behind them. Cor turned his head and called his katana into his free hand. His eyes widened as he saw the red giant running in their direction. “Fuck! Regis, I need you to warp, now.”

“What?” Regis asked and started twisting around to see what the commotion was about, but by then the daemon was almost on top of them.

“Warp!” Cor exclaimed and shoved Regis to the side right as the daemon slashed at them with its sword. Cor brought his katana up in an attempt to block the attack and buy Regis more time but it was too little too late. The flat side of the blade caught him and the burst of pain made his vision go white. He screamed. There was a long moment where he felt weightless but then he struck something hard and slipped unconscious.

-----

Cor groaned as his eyes fluttered open. His vision swam, and everything felt very disorienting. The daemon bellowed somewhere.

The fucking red giant.

Cor rolled onto his hands and knees with a barely suppressed whimper. The world spun in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Gods, it hurt. There wasn’t an inch of his body that didn’t hurt. He wanted nothing more than to lie back down, but he had a job to do. Regis needed him. He had to get up and get back into the fight. He reached for his fallen katana.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he used a nearby tree to leverage himself into a standing position. He groaned as the world tilted nauseatingly and pressed his forehead against the rough bark of the tree. “Breathe. Gotta ‘member to breathe.”

One of his friends shouted something in the distance but the words drowned under another daemonic roar.

Cor brushed a hand over his face, grimacing when he came across something wet. Blood, he guessed based on the sharp burst of pain he felt when his fingers brushed over a bump on his temple. A head wound would certainly explain the disorientation. He sighed and let his eyes fall shut for a moment. He could have really done without a concussion.

When the vertigo finally dissipated to a manageable level, Cor took a tentative step away from the tree. He faltered a bit but he counted it as a victory when he didn't faceplant. He adjusted his grip on his katana and started stumbling his way through the thick undergrowth to get back onto the road. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t broken all his bones after being thrown so far. He wasn’t going to complain though. The less broken bones there were, the better.

Cor staggered onto the road and fell down to his knees just as the daemon let out one last roar as someone delivered the finishing blow. The silence following the daemon’s death was deafening. Cor held his breath and waited for someone to break it. He tried to push himself back upright, only to find out he had no strength left. The katana vanished from his hand in a spark of blue, and suddenly all the eyes were on him.

“Cor!” Regis shouted. Cor turned to see Wesk stop Regis from getting up. “Wesk, let me go damn it!”

Wesk’s response was too quiet for Cor to hear but Regis seemed to settle down. Rapid footsteps had his head whip in the opposite direction dizzyingly. Clarus dismissed his own weapon back into the armiger as he dropped down on one knee to assess his condition. “Cor, shit, you’re bleeding!”

Cor tried to brush him off, but Clarus’ grip was firm as he tilted his head back to inspect the wound on his temple. “Looks bad, but head wounds always do. How are you feeling — dizzy, nauseous, any light sensitivity?”

“I’m fine,” Cor tried to insist. There was a click and then there was a bright light shining straight into Cor’s eyes. He yelped and shoved the flashlight away as he screwed his eyes shut. “Clarus, fuck off!”

“You’re definitely not fine,” Clarus told him but put the flashlight away. “You have a concussion. Anything else we should know about? What hurts?”

“I got thrown by a fucking overgrown daemon with a flaming sword, everything fucking hurts!”

Clarus made a noise in the back of his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Anything broken?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Alright,” Clarus nodded and glanced towards the Regalia. “I think we have a few extra potions in the car. Let’s get you up. Cid, help us out.”

Cor tried to object, but he was ignored as Clarus and Cid got him to his feet and walked him to the Regalia. As much as he wanted to convince himself and the others that the additional support wasn’t needed, vertigo hit him hard as soon as he was back upright. At least the guys kept the teasing to a minimum.

As soon as they got back to the car, Regis was there with a potion in hand. No words needed to be exchanged before he broke it over Cor and procured a towel for him to clean up some of the blood. Cor gave him a strained smile in return. “Thanks.”

“So, that was some fight,” Regis remarked.

Cor groaned as he reached up to dap his face with the towel. “I hate daemons.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t the only one,” Cid shook his head and patted him on the shoulder. “Which is exactly why we should get back on the road. We don’t want to give another one of those a chance to appear.”

“I agree with Cid,” Wesk said. “I would like to take a look at Regis’ and Cor’s injuries, so if you’d take the driver’s seat, Clarus?”

“Sure.” Clarus nodded as both Regis and Cor tried to protest. “Let’s get going.”

[mogai-sunflowers]

anygays here’s my updated list of upcoming royal system terms- currently not adding to it, and i did remove a few from the lists recommended to me for personal reasons, i’m really looking forward to doing these, i’ve got flags for most so far and i do have around 100 posts in my queue alr but im gonna be shuffling it up a bit so i can post royal system posts in between the ones alr in the queue

willow, lullaby, melody, harmony, love song, acoustic music, violin, cello, poetry, sunlight, moonlight, starlight, ocean sunset, waterlily, tigerlily, lupine, dragonfly, firefly, auroracore, pixiecore, clockpunk, steampunk, carnivalcore, post apocalyptic, pastel academia, musical academia, writers academia, ballet academia, romantic academia, crowcore, cyberpunk, cyberprep, cyberdelic, cybergoth, cybergrunge, coffee house, vellichor, dollcore, dark paradise/naturalism, daydream, dazecore, psychedelica, acidwave, ethereal, fairy academia, fawncore, happycore, horror academia, theater academia, jamcore, lunarpunk, solarpunk, northerness aesthetic, ocean academia, sparklecore, studyplace/studycore, vintage academia, warmcore, witchy academia, spiritcore, scenecore, marigold, daffodil, hyacinth, peony, rainy days, pastel, rococo, pixel cutie, pastel blue, pastel yellow, pastel orange, pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel green, plaguecore, plague doctor, natural philosophy, philosophy, luminism, hikecore, mountain sunrise/sunset, craftcore, vintage/vintagecore, cloud/cloudcore, violet flower, iris, lavender, jasmine, magnolia, morning glory, bluebell, poppy, orchid, lotus, forget me not, buttercup, gardenia, lilac, wildflower, dandelion, periwinkle, dahlia, zinnia, calla lily, lily of the valley, petunia, chrysanthemum, rosemary, love song, garden, fairy tale, fairy lights, flower crown, ginger, gingerbread, cotton candy, candy cane, cookie, lamb, honeybee, bumblebee, twirly skirt, ballerina, blue butterfly, phoenix, songwriting, ivy, aspen, birch, oak, evergreen, starry sky, winter forest, winter flower, polar bear, black bear, grizzly bear, leopard, meadowlark, nightingale, holly, sea glass, mistletoe, crescent moon, feather, dystopia, utopia, lollipop, popsicle, cookie, candy/candycore, harp, soulqueer, neon, arcade/arcadecore, snowman, nebula, constellation, northern lights, shooting star, summer sunset, romantic love, queerplatonic love, platonic love, friendship, kindness, falcon, hawk, poison, gold, marble, rebel, astronomy, volcano, love/lovecore, babycore, minimalism, prairiecore, candle, fairy garden, coconut, ocean cliff, flying, spiral, magical, magic trick, tiger, pegasus, griffin, satyr/faun, misty sunrise, christmas tree, legendary, bowtie, secret, ghosty story, evil fairy, guitar, singing, rainbow sprinkles, rainbow sparkles, superhero, stone, forgotten, dryad, infinity, paradise, castle, peach, elephant, luck, courage, fear, sci-fi, fantasy, siren, campfire, library, swan, envy, apple juice, antique, greenhouse, hot chocolate, celestial, brownie, imagination, truth, magic wand, illusion, prophecy, euphoria, jewelry, heartbreak, stardust, nightlight, magical flower, angel bunny, notebook, silk, memory, liberty, honeydew, honeycrisp, autumn academia, mystery, heaven, hell, wisteria, whimsical, mirror, sugarplum, ice skating, bell, tuxedo, androgynous, spy, detective, wisdom, war, branch, sword, shield, gun, yule, xenic, genderless, glass, translucent, holy, overcast, sky, wax, zodiac, knitted doll, feathered dragon, evil, tabby cat, 50s, 20s, tuxedo cat, barn owl, snowy owl, creeper, enderman, pokemon, dovakiin, khajit, redguard, argonian, bosmer, dunmer, altmer, orsimer, imperial, Breton, nord, guard, drama, gender nonconforming, god/goddess, linguistic, clay doll, cornhusk doll, occult, tarot, lava, slime, luna moth, silk moth, poodle moth, rose maple moth, poltergeist, fruit bat, sloth, cyclops, flower fairy, narwhal, salt, she/her, he/him, they/them, it/its, funky, fresh, homey, bear, time travel, vampire bat, circus, songbird, pony, virus, fever, sand castle, hologram, radioactive, alternate timeline, alternate/parallel universe, white peacock, ancient ruins, distorted reality, victorian, victorian goth, enchantress

[furys-mercy]

- | Adroit | -

a·droit /əˈdroit/ adjective clever or skillful in using the hands or mind.

Erleaux Lenoud had trained many a young lad in the art of swordplay, most of whom had gone on to happily blend into the sea of shields that fought for the glory and honor of Ishgard, long forgotten by the aging Master at Arms. Sebastian de Vairemont, on the other hand, was difficult to forget. The boy had walked into the training ring a runt and emerged a whirling dervish of black leather that only the most accomplished of swordsmen could hope to best, something his current opponent either did not know or did not believe.

“Is that all?” Sebastian taunted; his heels dug into the dirt of the sparring ring as he spun gracefully around his opponent, dodging each sloppy hack with ease.

The Master at Arms leaned against the surrounding fence, taking in the display, noting each break of form, each glaring mistake. He’d counted no less than six openings Sebastian could have used to end the boy’s misery. And yet, he hadn’t. Was he slipping or was this just another of his games? “Keep that shield up, boy! If you don’t, you’re like to lose an eye!”

Sebastian’s head whipped towards his old mentor. A sly grin grew as he deftly parried another flimsy jab. “If you have something to say, my old friend, surely the best way to say it is with your blade?” His opponent, believing this momentary distraction to be an opening, lunged forward. Sebastian’s blade caught his and with a quick flick of his wrist, the boy’s sword tumbled from his hand to the dirt. “Unless, of course, your aching bones would stop you.”

“Fury save you, boy.” Erleaux’s lips quirked upward into a smirk that nearly matched that of his pupil. “Tell me…” He hopped the fence with ease, strolling over the take the spot recently vacated by the young swordsman still scrambling to reclaim his fallen sword. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Can a student not long to see his master?” The Bastard of Vairemont tossed his rapier from his right hand to his left before reaching to draw the parrying blade sheathed at his hip.

Erleaux let out a deep chuckle. At least he was to be given the honor of a proper duel. He, too, drew his weapons in mirror image of his protégé, favoring his right hand over his left. “If your heart so ached to see me, you could have simply invited yourself to tea.”

Sebastian slid gracefully into his stance, both blades pointed at his new opponent. “Has it been so long that you now think me dull, Erleaux?”

The tip of the master’s blade met that of his student. “I think you old enough to not need these games. Now do be a good little lord and tell me why it is you’ve disturbed my peaceful afternoon with grand fantasies of publicly shaming old men.”

Sebastian lunged. The clang of steel on steel echoed through the stone-lined ring. Erleaux parried each strike with ease, gaining ground and pushing Sebastian onto his back foot.

“Did you think me that old? That easy? I trained you, boy. I know your tricks, your games. I can spot them a from a yalm away.” Another jab deftly parried. “Now, I ask again. What game are you playing?”

The Bastard huffed through gritted teeth. “Mercer.” The name was punctuated by the sound of his parrying blade catching his master’s rapier.

A shock of recognition flashed across the elder Elezen’s face. His feet faltered, his advance halted. “And what do you want with a long-dead heretic?"

“Dead? You are certain?” Sebastian’s assaults stopped abruptly. His brow furrowed; his lips pulled taut in a thin line. Those who had gathered to watch the spectacle looked on in confusion.

“Declan Mercer, you mean? I am quite sure. It was all a rather messy affair. I took his sword to his widow myself.” He pushed a long strand of nearly white hair from his face as he took in the sagging shoulders and shifting demeanor of his favorite student.

Sebastian perked up slightly, blades still at rest in his hands. “A widow? He had a family?”

“A daughter and a son. The girl was about ten. The boy…” He stopped as the memory of that little boy, fighting back tears as he stepped up to take his father’s sword, played over and over in his mind. The sheer strength in his eyes as he’d pushed his black hair from his face and squared his shoulders to better bear the weight of the news.

Erleaux tried his best to blink back the memories but suddenly found it difficult not to see that little boy in Sebastian. Standing right in front of him, fighting tooth and nail to keep from breaking beneath his new reality. "No. Certainly, you don't mean to suggest…"

Sebastian sheathed his blades and pushed a strand of black hair from his face. He managed a pained smirk. “Do you know where I might find them?”

[jedimaesteryoda]

Brienne’s Off to See the Wizard

I’m feeling a little silly right now, and in that spirit I’ll say that Brienne's journey in A Feast for Crows draws a bit of The Wizard of Oz: a girl dressed in blue travels with three dudes and a dog along a road on a quest to return a girl home. 

Brienne is Dorothy, the protagonist who dresses in blue (armor), and is given Oathkeeper which is sword studded with rubies in place of ruby slippers. At the start, she is accused of killing Renly when she was actually at the wrong place at the wrong time just like Dorothy with her house dropping on the Wicked Witch of the East. Dorothy ends up in Munchkinland of the diminutive Munchkins while Brienne travels through the riverlands which is predominantly made up of smallfolk. Dorothy was brought to Oz by a tornado while Brienne is from the stormlands. Brienne is sent on her mission to return a girl home by Catelyn, the Lady of the North in place of Glinda the Good Witch of the North. 

Professor Marvel: I see a woman. She's wearing a polka-dot dress. Her face is careworn. Dorothy: That's Auntie Em. Professor Marvel: Her name is Emily. Dorothy: That's right. What's she doing? Professor Marvel: Well I, uh, I can't quite see. Why, she's crying. Someone has hurt her. Someone has just about broken her heart. Dorothy: Me? Professor Marvel: Well, it's uh, someone she loves very much. Someone she's been very kind to. Someone she's taken care of in sickness. Dorothy: I had the measles once and she stayed right by me every minute. What's she doing now? Professor Marvel: Well, she's, uh...What's this? Well, she's, she's putting her hand on her heart. Oh, she's, she's dropping down on the bed. Dorothy: Oh, no, no, no. Professor Marvel: Uh, that's it, the crystal's gone dark. Dorothy: You don't suppose she could really be sick, do you? Oh, I've got to go home right away.

Go home, child. You have a home, which is more than many can say in these dark days. You have a noble father who must surely love you. Consider his grief if you should never return. Perhaps they will bring your sword and shield to him, after you have fallen. Perhaps he will even hang them in his hall and look on them with pride . . . but if you were to ask him, I know he would tell you that he would sooner have a living daughter than a shattered shield."

"A daughter." Brienne's eyes filled with tears. "He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. Galladon drowned when I was four and he was eight, though, and Alysanne and Arianne died still in the cradle. I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son or daughter."

- A Feast for Crows, Brienne VI

Brienne meets people along the way. Elder Brother tells her to abandon her quest, and think of her father who likely misses her while she is away from home just as Professor Marvel told Dorothy to abandon running away and go back home. She also comes across three people and a dog along her quest who end up accompanying her.

Septon Meribald is the Scarecrow. Dorothy meets him in the country where he wants a brain, yet throughout the film demonstrated himself to be intelligent and good on his feet. Meribald is from the country, and at first appears country bumpkin-esque, but actually proves himself to be intelligent with his Broken Men speech. His knowledge of the riverlands also proves to be useful to them throughout the trip.

Hyle Hunt is undoubtedly the Tin Man. Hyle Hunt’s body is covered in the metal of his armor like the Tin Man, and not having a heart appears to describe him pretty well. He calls Brienne ugly to her face when we see him first talk to her. He wants to find Sansa so he can sell her to the Lannisters. When Brother Gillum shows that a horse bit off his ear, Hyle responds by joking about it. When Brienne expresses sympathy for the children at the inn having lost their parents, Hyle’s response is to roll his eyes and mock her for her sympathy. He comes off as an insensitive prick who doesn’t seem very caring towards anyone. However, we are first introduced to him when he defends a smallfolk couple and Brienne from Tarly’s guards, and actually defends Brienne against his boss and liege, Randyll Tarly, which cost him his job. So there might be a heart to him somewhere after all.

Podrick Payne is the Cowardly Lion. Pod served lions, the Lannisters, and with a name like Payne with his distant cousin being Ser Ilyn the King’s Justice one would expect him to be more aggressive and intimidating. Yet, he is described by every POV character that meets him as timid, with Sansa noticing he blushes and stares at her feet every time she talks with him. He is clearly shy, but he rams himself into Mandon Moore just as he is about to kill Tyrion, and then pulls Tyrion to safety from the raging inferno on the Blackwater, saving his life. He later helps Brienne against the undoubtedly dangerous Bloody Mummer deserters. The boy can be shy, but deep inside is brave.

She finally comes across one figure who has gained repute in the land for his ostensible magical ability.  

“Oh, no, my dear, I... I'm a very good man - I'm just a very bad Wizard”

"The pink pretender, rather. I am Thoros, late of Myr, aye . . . a bad priest and a worse wizard."

- A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

Brienne eventually meets a man called the "red wizard," Thoros and just as the Wizard was just an ordinary man using smoke and mirrors, Thoros’s magic is usually just pyromancer tricks. Even he admits he isn’t really that much of a wizard or a red priest. But Thoros is a man who spent the entire war aiding the smallfolk of the riverlands, so while not much of a sorcerer, he still is at heart a good man. 

Auntie Em: You just had a bad dream.

Dorothy: But it wasn't a dream. It was a place, and you and you and you ... and you  were there . . . But you couldn't have been, could you?

Auntie Em: We dream lots of silly things when we...’

Dorothy: No, Aunt Em. This is a real, truly live place. And I remember that some of it wasn't very nice. But most of it was beautiful. But just the same, all I kept saying to everybody was, 'I want to go home.' And they sent me home.

“This is an evil dream, she thought. But if she were dreaming, why did it hurt so much?”

. . .

This time she dreamed that she was home again, at Evenfall. Through the tall arched windows of her lord father's hall she could see the sun just going down. I was safe here. I was safe.

. . .

"I saw him. In the woods."

"A fever dream, my lady."

"He said that he would hang me."

"Even dreams can lie. My lady, how long has it been since you have eaten? Surely you are famished?"

-A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

At the end, she wakes up from a dream, and while in the film, Dorothy is finally home, and her journey was revealed to be a dream, Brienne is far from home in the cave of the Brotherhood without Banners and she wakes up to a living nightmare. Brienne is reunited with the Lady of the North, though unlike in the film with Glinda, it is not a happy reunion, as she is accused of betrayal and her ruby studded sword given to her is used against her as opposed to helping her. 

“Bring me the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West.”

"She wants her son alive, or the men who killed him dead," said the big man. "She wants to feed the crows, like they did at the Red Wedding. Freys and Boltons, aye. We'll give her those, as many as she likes. All she asks from you is Jaime Lannister."

-A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

After finding the titular wizard, Dorothy in the story has to go on a side quest to complete her goal of returning home. Brienne finds the red wizard and is now told to prove her loyalty by bringing to them in place of the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West, Jaime Lannister, the twin brother and Lord Commander of Cersei’s Kingsguard sent to pacify the riverlands.

“I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!”

The queen regarded him coolly. "I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I'd thought to wed would have laid a wolfskin across my bed before the sun went down." Robert's face darkened with anger. "That would be a fine trick, without a wolf." "We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.

-A Game of Thrones, Eddard II

As for Cersei, well, she is associated with the color green, is very vindictive and cruel, often associated with wildfire and comes from the westerlands. She also starts at the beginning of the story by having a girl's innocent dog, Lady, killed. Her subordinates are referred to as monkeys with Tyrion, her Hand, being called “a twisted little monkey demon,” Lancel, who served as her sword, is compared to “a mummer’s monkey” and she thinks of Falyse Stokeworth, whom she tried to have kill Bronn, as a “grasping monkey.” Cersei is also looking for the same young girl Brienne is, someone she blames for the death of a relative, and had imprisoned in her castle.

Just who could Cersei's parallel be?

[rafael-silva]

joenicky + 45

thank you kayla!

joenicky + #45. rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb | from this prompt list

hurt/comfort, angst, description of injury, blood mention, grounding touches, emotional hurt/comfort, temporary character death, sprinkles of fluff

It happened quickly. Too quickly. But it also happened so agonizingly slow. He saw him drop from the corner of his eye, heard the pained yelp that escaped his husband’s lips, and caught Nile’s quick movements to take down the men responsible for his soulmate’s wounds. He backed up, hands tightly gripping his firearms as he pulls the triggers while moving on his heels to shield his husband from any further harm as he recovers.

Nicky expects to feel a hand on his shoulder soon, or at least the call of his name from behind, a system he and Joe had built over decades and decades. If one can’t turn to look at the other, a touch or a call of a name is in order.

However, standing in this dimly lit room, sweat rolling down the sides of his face, slightly panting from the exertion, neither touch nor sound come from Joe.

And it’s been too long. Nicky has to look over his shoulder.

He does. And in that split second, he gets a bullet to the shoulder but he doesn’t feel the pain, he doesn’t feel the sting. In fact, the entire room seems to fade away because Joe is still lying on the ground. He’s still bleeding. And he’s not moving.

With a hitched breath, Nicky finds himself clutching his sword with knuckles as white as snow, and the blood rushing through his body as hot and raging as fire. He stands his ground, not daring to move an inch, still protecting Joe, as he takes down the remainder of the cartel the team was hired to dismantle.

The silence is a welcomed sound dancing across the room. Andy and Nile quickly look around, to make sure it’s all clear, while Nicky doesn’t waste a single second in dropping to his knees next to Joe. His Joe. Joe, who’s still not moving. Who’s still bleeding.

Nicky’s voice pierces through the silence, sharp, but layered with worry.

“Joe.”

Nothing.

He can sense Andy and Nile standing above him, holding their breaths.

“Joe,” Nicky repeats, moving forward to hold Joe’s face in his hands, caressing his bearded cheeks with his thumbs.

Andy’s eyes remain glued on Joe’s wound, a gaping hole in his chest and stomach courtesy of a close-range shotgun blast. And there! Right there. It started to heal. Or was in Andy’s eyes tricking her?

“Yusuf,” Nicky’s voice quivers, on the edge of desperation.

Joe’s eyes remain closed.

“Come on, come on,” Nicky whispers. “Torna da me.” Come back to me.

Nicky’s wide eyes trail downwards to Joe’s chest and he, too, holds his breath.

And it seems Andy’s eyes were, in fact, not playing tricks on her because Nicky catches the movement, too.

Nile remembers Booker’s words then, bigger wounds take longer to heal.

And quite frankly, Joe’s middle is a mangled mess.

“Apri gli occhi per me, amore mio,” Nicky pleads. Open your eyes for me, my love. “Joe…”

Nicky shares a look with Andy and it’s filled with fear and uncertainty. Nicky’s bright green eyes are screaming, no, no, it’s not time, it cannot be time, please, no…

Nicky looks back at Joe, his heart racing in his chest, and then he’s placing a palm against Joe’s chest, right above his heart and Nicky closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm his own heart. And he breaks when the beats aren’t echoed inside Joe’s chest. Their hearts would always beat as one, and now…Nicky just feels the emptiness and the loneliness through his body when it’s only his heart that beats.

He feels it before he hears it. A thump against his palm. And then another. He opens his eyes just in time to hear the piercing breath Joe sucks in that immediately turns into a cough that escapes his mouth a second later.

His eyes are squeezed shut, he lets out a throaty groan and he’s undoubtedly in a lot of pain.

And Nicky, since the moment he took that bullet to his shoulder that has long-since healed, can finally let out a shaky breath.

He can feel Andy and Nile relax an inch, too. They’re still on alert, diving their attention on the couple and their surroundings.

“Sono qui. Sono qui,” Nicky whispers, and he isn’t quite sure he can use his voice much right now. I’m here. I’m here.  

With all the strength he can muster, Joe lifts a wobbly arm and clutches at the front of Nicky’s vest, needing something, anything, to hold on to. And of course, as always, Nicky is right there for him. Joe’s fingers weakly hold on and it’s all Nicky needs to lean down and touch his forehead to Joe’s.

He feels Joe taking in short, shallow breaths. “Easy, Joe. Easy.”

Joe swallows against his dry throat, giving his other half a nod.

“Nicolo,” Joe murmurs, his voice thick and low. Followed by another groan.

“Yusuf,” Nicky responds. “Habibi.” My love. “I know, I know.” He covers Joe’s hand with his own, helping to ground the injured man, while his other hands goes back to cup Joe’s face, offering a source of warmth and comfort as he continues the painful process of healing.

No more words are needed between them, Nicky looks into Joe’s brown eyes as he instantly knows what his husband needs.

He closes the gap between them by planting a tender kiss to Joe’s forehead, letting his lips linger there to allow Joe to take everything he needs from the touch. Joe’s free hand travels up Nicky’s arm and wraps itself around the back of his neck. Joe is holding on for dear life, Nicky his lifeline.

Once he’s positive his legs will be able to hold him up, Joe gives Nicky a nod and Nicky is helping Joe up, wrapping an arm around Joe’s waist as they make their way outside of the bloodied warehouse, Andy and Nile taking the lead with Joe and Nicky hot on their heels, Nicky glued to Joe’s side with Joe’s arm draped around Nicky’s shoulder as they swiftly move towards their getaway car.

Nicky helps Joe into the backseat and quickly makes his way around the car, getting in himself just as Andy gets into the drivers seat and Nile into the passenger.

Andy floors the gas petal and they all hear the tires screeching against the gravel as the car speeds down the road.

It’s silent for a few moments, and it’s Andy who breaks it this time.

“Joe?” She takes a speedy glance at him through the rearview mirror.

He nods. “I’m good, boss.” His voice is a little unsteady, but it’s strong.

Joe and Nicky are plastered at each other’s sides, and Joe reaches out, taking Nicky’s hand and gives it a powerful, reassuring squeeze. I’m here. I’m okay, I promise.

Nicky swallows, briefly looking down at their joined hands and it’s then he realizes his own hand is shaking a little. He then looks up at Joe, who’s eyes are focused on his face, and there’s so much in Joe’s brown irises, but what Nicky sees the most, is that they’re full of life. The way Joe’s eyes soften when they meet Nicky’s own, giving him a look of comfort. And Nicky feels like he wants to cry. To cry because he still feels the fear coursing through his veins, could still feel the echo of his heart shattering in his chest. But he also wants to cry because Joe is here, Joe is here, and he’s alive, and he’s looking at him like that.

“I just…” Nicky starts with a whisper. “I need a moment.”

His eyes well up with tears.

Joe nods. He understands.

Instead of saying anything more, Joe gently starts rubbing his thumb over the back of Nicky’s hand in a slow and soothing rhythm.

A grounding touch.

A touch that clearly spells: I love you.

Nicky lets Joe’s even movements guide his breathing. In his head, Nicky is repeating, he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay. Along with Joe’s soft touch, a mantra to help anchor him, to help steady him.

And together, they sit in the back of the car, the world flying by in a blur outside the windows. But it doesn’t matter. What matters if that they’re together, breathing together, hearts beating together. Beating as one.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Samira, the Desert Rose build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Jessica 'OwleyCat' Oyhenart. Made for Riot Games.)

Still fucking hate this champ but her theme still slaps.

The eternal joke of me putting off making a build for Samira is finally over, though ironically enough my distain for this champ has only grown overtime. Jesus fucking Christ Rito can you nerf this champ’s goddamn damage? Like nerfing her lifesteal is nice and all but it doesn’t mean shit when my dumbfuck teammates picked 4 assassins into her and I’m the only one who can CC her as a Lulu.

Ah well: Samira still definitely fills a fantasy everyone wants, being a badass with sword and gun styling on the competition. Devil May Cry? Yeah I suppose Samira would be pretty good in a campaign against Fiends.

GOALS

You want style? You've found her - Smile, Sweet, Sister, Sadistic; we’ll need to Surprise the Service with Style to Spare. Sssssssssssssssssamira.

Eyes up! - We’ll need to be everywhere at once, dashing and dancing around the battlefield so no one can lock us down.

Showtime! - When push comes to shove it’s time to speeeeeeeeeen~

RACE

Samira is human no matter what the meta might dictate, and for once in my life I actually want something particular from Variant Human. But firstly: you can increase two Ability Scores of your choice by 1: increase both Dexterity and Wisdom for sharp sight and sharper shots. You also get a skill of your choice and a language of your pleasing. For your skill take Slight of Hand for flips and other gun tricks, and for your language Infernal will be good for your Inferno Trigger.

Again: we came to Variant Human land for a Feat because two guns are better than one. The Crossbow Expert Feat will give you a variety of benefits: no need to reload (or at least the ability to ignore the Loading property), no disadvantage in melee range... But most importantly if you fire a Hand Crossbow (which will be working as our handgun in this build) you can fire it again as a Bonus Action! "Well! Look at you."

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Dexterity is tied to both shooting and backflips.

14; CHARISMA - Who needs a military license when you’ve got style?

13; WISDOM - Wisdom measures how in-tune you are with the world around you, and you need heightened senses not to die doing stupid shit.

12; CONSTITUTION - Most of Samira’s sustain comes from Lifesteal but we won’t really be able to get lifesteal, so just focus on not dying really.

10; STRENGTH - It takes a lot of upper body strength to do the stuff that Samira does but Riot isn’t about to make another Illaoi.

8; INTELLIGENCE - Your primary goal is to do things as recklessly and dangerously as possible... “for the Vine” as the kids say. Vine shut down ages ago!

BACKGROUND

Samira is a mercenary. I wonder if there’s a background for that... hey look at that Mercenary Veteran in the Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide! You get proficiency in Athletics and Persuasion as well as Ground Vehicles and a gaming set of your choice. But of course the main benefit of being a mercenary is the Mercenary Life. You can easily identify other mercenaries and know bits and pieces of their lives. You can also easily find work by hanging around taverns and such until Captain Indari passes on some info to you.

(Artwork made for Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue because I like skill proficiencies! Skills like Acrobatics, Perception, Insight, and Performance; you were a street performer once! You also get Expertise in two of those skills: Acrobatics and Athletics are necessary to be everywhere at once.

You can chat in Noxian military code thanks to Thieves’ Cant, but c’mon that’s not what we’re here for. We’re here for Sneak Attack! If an enemy is distracted or you have advantage you can stick a d6 where the sun don’t shine!

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues get Cunning Action, letting them Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. Dance around the battlefield like an Olympic gymnast... does Runeterra have the Olympics?

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype: to be the queen of style and also make people think you’re from Bilgewater (yeah I get it; it’s because of the eyepatch) look no further than the Swashbuckler subclass. Swashbucklers get two abilities at level 1 but honestly it’s more like three abilities: Rakish Audacity will let you add your Charisma modifier to initiative rolls so you can get into fights fast, and will also let you Sneak Attack anyone who’s beside you. I’d consider it less like you sneak attacking them and more like you slashing them with your sword. Oh and speaking of Sneak Attack? That increases to 2d6 now.

Speaking of sword slashing: Fancy Footwork is the mobile feat! Well, it makes it so that after you try to make a melee attack against an enemy you can move away without provoking opportunity attacks. It’s a little weird to run around with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other but you can easily slash at someone before backflipping away and running off to shoot them next turn!

(Artwork by @Aruneeko on Twitter)

LEVEL 4 - BARD 1

You didn’t think we’d be settling for just one class, did you? It’s time to go Bard; the masters of style! Bards get another skill proficiency at level 1 because why not be good at everything? Grab Medicine proficiency because it’s good to know how to bandage yourself up when living a dangerous lifestyle. “On my worst behavior." You also get a musical instrument and you know that I’ll always opt for good ol’ Noxian War Drums.

Bards get Bardic Inspiration, letting them show off their awesomeness so that awesomeness radiates onto their allies to give them a d6 to attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. You’ve got a number of these equal to your Charisma modifier, and regain them at the end of a Long Rest. For now, at least.

And of course while you may be all guns your style makes it look like Spellcasting... because it is. Bards get 2 cantrips and 4 spells at level 1:

CANTRIPS

Prestidigitation will let you put all the visual flair you could want on your moves, and more!

If you wanna walk the walk you’ve gotta talk the talk, and Vicious Mockery will let you talk smack so hard they can’t hit back! "Keep the change; you're gonna need it."

SPELLS

Magic is usually dangerous, and danger is usually fun! Take Detect Magic to see where that danger may be!

If you need some space in a pinch Thunderwave will give yourself some peel.

Steel yourself to do something crazy with Heroism, which will also give you a bit of a shield to do so!

You are still technically working for Noxus so it would be good to Identify anything important... or valuable... For safe keeping of course!

LEVEL 5 - BARD 2

Second level Bards truly are good at everything thanks to Jack of All Trades, letting you add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you don’t have proficiency in. You probably noticed that we already have proficiency in a silly amount of skills but I’m not going to say no to MORE!

After dangerous stunts it’s good to cool off with a Song of Rest, letting you help your crew with a d6 of healing during short rests to bandage up those wounds.

And of course: more spells! Faerie Fire will let you light ‘em up to get advantage, which will make it easier to sneak attack!

LEVEL 6 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Perception will help you spot danger and Medicine will help you after dealing with danger.

But of course what we’re mainly here for is your Bardic College and in order to be too cool for school go for the College of Swords. You get some Bonus Proficiencies that don’t really matter but what does matter is you can use your sword to cast spells instead of a drum! Additionally you get a choice of Fighting Style and Dueling will make your sword swings do more damage if you swing it with one hand. I guess it’s worth mentioning that while a rapier would do the most damage a scimitar is the only finesse weapon that does slashing? (Excluding whips.)

But the main feature we’re here for is Blade Flourish which despite the name does also work with your hand crossbows. When you attack your movement speed increases by 10 feet as you charge up that Daredevil Impulse. If you hit with your shot however you can make a Blade Flourish (which again works with your hand crossbows?) of your choice from the following list:

Defensive Flourish does extra damage and also increases your AC as you dodge incoming projectiles.

Slashing Flourish will let you cleave with your sword (and just your sword because it only works on nearby enemies.)

Mobile Flourish will let you chase after a fleeing foe... after pushing them. But after shoving them into danger you can use your reaction to dive right in!

You can only use one Blade Flourish per turn which will matter later. As for what will matter now? Second level spells! Enhance Ability will help you give 110%!

LEVEL 7 - BARD 4

Heeey it’s about time we got an Ability Score Improvement! Our Dexterity has been lacking and you need that to fire straight!

Word of advice: if you know you aren’t going to level 20 feel free to get 4 levels in Rogue for the sake of the ASI.

You also get another spell, and another cantrip! For your cantrip Message is always good for keeping in team chat. For leveled spells Warding Wind does let you deflect nearby projectiles so... 

LEVEL 8 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get Font of Inspiration so their Bardic Inspiration die come back on a Short Rest, which is good because said Bardic Inspiration die also increases to a d8! Oh and when I say “Bardic Inspiration” I actually mean your Blade Flourish die. "If you can't keep up don't step up. I don't have time for fools."

And now third level spells are up on the table, but they all suck so take Mirror Image from the second level instead, which was added to the Bard spell list thanks to Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything!

(Artwork by GaMu-ChAn on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 9 - RANGER 1

Three way multiclass? Don’t mind if I do! You get an extra skill proficiency by multiclassing into Ranger, because why not. Take Survival because you’re clearly damn good at it since you’re still alive.

Rangers get Deft Explorer at level 1 because Natural Explorer sucks and Tasha’s made Ranger a good class! Canny lets you learn two languages (honestly just pick your poison) and get Expertise in another skill, because lord knows we don’t have enough of those. I know we just got Survival proficiency, but it’s good to be good at not dying! (As well as finding food.)

You also get Favored Foe at first level, because Favored Enemy smells. If you shoot someone you can legally-not-Hunter’s Mark them so they take a d4 of extra damage once per turn when you shoot them. You concentrate on it like a spell and it works a lot like the Hunter’s Mark spell but you have a limited number of uses equal to your proficiency bonus, instead of using your spell slots.

LEVEL 10 - RANGER 2

Heeey more Fighting Styles! You already improved your sword swings so take Archery for +2 to ranged attack rolls to ensure that you hit your shots.

Rangers also get Spellcasting, only this spellcasting works with your Wisdom instead of your Charisma! You learn two spells from the Ranger list: Jump will let you do some hardcore parkour because the Ranger spell list sucks and I’ve got nothing else to give you, and Cure Wounds will allow Samira to have some healing... as a treat.

LEVEL 11 - RANGER 3

Third level Rangers can choose their archetype and Hunters are masters at taking down their foes. You can choose a way to take down your Hunter’s Prey. Colossus Slayer is a fairly simple affair: if you shoot (or stab) someone who’s already hurt they take an extra d8 of damage. Though you can only apply that extra d8 once per turn.

You also learn another spell: Longstrider will help you move thanks to that Daredevil Impulse. 10 feet may not seem like much but remember that you get an extra 10 feet thanks to Blade Flourish and can dash to turn 50 feet into 100 feet of movement!

Oh and I also completely forgot about Primal Awareness, which replaces Primeval Awareness. You can Speak with Animals once per day! Maybe not in character, but it helps if you have a Yuumi!

LEVEL 12 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement: time to finally cap that Dexterity score for the most precise shots and deadly cuts possible!

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - RANGER 5

Total level 13 isn’t too late to get an Extra Attack, right? Well you can shoot twice now and mix some more Flair into your combos.

You can also learn second level spells now like Aid (ty Tasha’s) to let that adrenaline kick in so you feel no pain. Primal Awareness also gives you Beast Sense for a bit of covert Psy Ops.

LEVEL 14 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers get Roving from Deft Explorer for 5 extra feet of movement along with a climbing speed and a swimming speed! Reminder that in combination with both Longstrider and Blade Flourish that increases to a whopping 55 movement speed, which means that you can Dash as a Bonus Action to move 110 feet in a turn! "Danger runs from me." Your Favored Foe mark also increases to a d6 of damage.

LEVEL 15 - RANGER 7

7th level Hunters learn some Defensive Tactics: while perhaps not the most useful since you have Heroism and all you’ve certainly got a Steel Will, giving you advantage against being frightened. “Death isn't the scariest thing; it's a mother's rage."

You can also learn another spell: Lesser Restoration can be helpful in a pinch if someone’s trying to slow you down. Or at least if they’re trying to blind, deafen, poison, or paralyze you.

LEVEL 16 - RANGER 8

8th level of Ranger means another Ability Score Improvement: Charisma means higher initiative rolls as well as more Blade Flourishes. Simply put Wisdom can’t beat style!

Oh yeah and you also get Land’s Stride to move through non-magical difficult terrain and plants without slowing down, and for advantage against magic plants. I legit forgot this was even a thing before seeing it on the character sheet.

(Artwork by dominaART on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 17 - RANGER 9

9th level Rangers get 3rd level spells like Conjure Barrage for some bullet rain; "My kind of rain!" Basically you shoot a bunch of bullets in a big cone, because Rangers get this instead of Fireball. Honestly something like Elemental Weapon (ty Tasha’s) would probably be better but we’re still sticking to flavor.

Oh and you can Speak with Plants thanks to Primal Awareness? Honestly these extra spells don’t fit at all but Primeval Awareness sucks. I’m literally adding these extra spells to the build last second.

LEVEL 18 - RANGER 10

10th level Rangers get Tireless from Deft Explorer. As an action, you can give yourself a Shieldbow shield for 1d8 + your Wisdom modifier in Temporary Hitpoints. You can do this a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Additionally: whenever you finish a short rest, your exhaustion level is decreased by 1. Because danger doesn’t wait!

You also get Nature’s Veil because even if Vanish fits Samira better it still freaking sucks. Basically you can play around with Duskblade to turn invisible as a Bonus Action until the end of your next turn. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

LEVEL 19 - RANGER 11

11th level Hunters can finally spin around and hit everyone around them. Whirlwind Attack will let you make a melee attack against any enemy within 5 feet of you (with a separate attack roll for each target.) This is best used when surrounded (obviously) because unlike Samira’s ultimate in League it doesn’t do much extra damage, and you’re better off just stabbing them twice if you want DPS in a 1v1.

You also get your final spell known: take Wind Wall because you have an AoE Wind Wall and I thought it would be funny to steal directly from mister 0/10 powerspike himself. But really get whatever spell you think will be useful.

LEVEL 20 - RANGER 12

Full disclosure: feel free to go for 4 levels in Rogue if you know you aren’t going to hit level 20. I only went for Ranger level 12 because the hit die is bigger.

One last ability score improvement to top the build off: Charisma is still used for a lot of abilities, so increase that because who needs common sense when you’ve got blade flourishes!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Came all this way to die? - You have many a way to bump up the damage. With 2d6 on a sneak attack, an extra d6 from Favored Foe, a d8 from Blade Flourishes, and a d8 from Colossus Slayer that means that on average you can do about 20 extra damage every turn. That’s definitely nothing to sneeze at!

Finally some action! - Have you ever had +12 to initiative? Would you like to? You are incredibly mobile for a girl who didn’t bring Flash (IE Misty Step) with tons of ways to increase your movement speed and the ability to Dash every turn as a Bonus Action.

This took years of practice... for everyone else - It was not my intention but wow you’re quite the little skill monkey. Two expertise skills from Rogue, another 2 from Bard, and one more from Deft Explorer. Not to mention Jack of All Trades in what few skills you aren’t proficient in to make sure you can do just about anything.

CONS

Oh... I really gotta check these more often - Your spellcasting really isn’t fantastic. We invested almost everything into Charisma but we have very few Bard spells. While I did my best to avoid Ranger spells that forced saving throws there are still some that suffer due to your relatively low Wisdom score... Oh yeah you also have 6th level spell slots but your known spells don’t go past level 3. At least that means you can buff the party with Aid!

I feel most alive when I'm walking the line - As great as your skill checks are your saving throws are quite lacking. Your Dexterity is nice but that’s about it; all your other saves range from average (+5) to bad (+0) Notably your Constitution saves are a mere +1, which means you won’t keep concentration up for long if you play recklessly.

Well-behaved women don't make it - There are a lot of features I took more for flavor then actual utility. For a start Hunter is a rather meh multiclass. This might be one of the times “just play a Fighter with a bow” applies as a subclass like Battlemaster would’ve likely been a better choice, and honestly going down full Swords Bard would’ve given you far more utility overall. There were benefits from Ranger levels but they were lost in the multiclassing MADness.

But you prove that modern-day killers really must hate fun; more often people can’t get style rockin' knives and guns. You don’t need no fancy magic or divine ascension to be a badass: gun ‘em down and cut through whatever remains to show that S stands for Samira and Samira alone... As long as she isn’t permabanned.

(Artwork by @Yangyexin on Twitter)

[fanficshiddles]

Triple Threat, Chapter 1 (Sequel to Trust)

Summary: Darcy and Loki were enjoying their life, still annoying the Avengers. But one day, Loki from another timeline appears. After causing some mischief, he tells them that Jane is compromised with the aether. And he needs their help.

Now Darcy not only has TWO Loki’s to deal with, but also a deranged and tortured Jane who’s much more powerful than she should be.

But they have to find her first.

Darcy was late. Ohhh so late.

She ran as fast as she could out of the compound with her bag over her shoulder, Thor, Tony, Natasha, Bruce and Loki were waiting at the Bifrost site.

‘Sorry! I’m sorry! I couldn’t find my contacts and got up late.’ She said out of breath as she slammed into Loki’s side, he slipped his arm around her waist to steady her.

It had been almost six months since Loki and Darcy realised they couldn’t love anyone else. Although, whilst they tried going on proper dates together, they found it wasn’t really them. The whole romance thing.

The Avengers didn’t really know what to make of them both. Loki and Darcy didn’t like it when they were called boyfriend and girlfriend, and to the team they were just like they were before. Mischievous and a bit annoying. But the team knew that no one else would get a look in at either of them now, that was for sure.

Did Darcy love Loki? Yes, she did. She wouldn’t ever hesitate to say she did. And Loki felt the same. They already had a strong foundation built together. Had they added very regular sex to the mix? Hell yes! Did Loki want to kill every man that even just looked at Darcy in a flirtatious way? Of course!

But they were comfortable and happy with what they were. Whatever it was.

‘You’re late.’ Loki drawled.

‘Well, someone failed to wake me up!’ She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes.

‘I’m not your alarm clock, it’s not my duty to wake you.’

‘It is when you’re the reason I was up most of the night. I was walking like John Wayne when I got up. It would’ve been polite to at least wake me.’ She huffed.

‘Eww. Too much information!’ Tony said as he pulled a face.

Loki just looked very smug.

‘Exciting night, huh?’ Natasha smirked at Darcy.

‘Hell yeah!’ Darcy grinned.

Loki chuckled and squeezed Darcy’s side, just as Thor called for Heimdall to open the Bifrost. Whisking them all up to Asgard.

Asgard and Midgard were working together, sharing science and technology. Tony and Bruce were able to take their inventions to completely new levels, while Asgard learned a thing or two from the scientist mortals.

So trips to the golden city were quite regular. Darcy went along whenever Loki went. Frigga was always so happy to see her, even Odin was starting to warm up to her, too. He was also trying with Loki, attempting to make amends for not being a great father. Loki didn’t make it easy, but Darcy kept telling him off and told him to try and at least be civil.

When they arrived, horses were waiting for them on the Bifrost. Tony and Bruce couldn’t get used to riding the horses, they were worse than Darcy had been her first time. They stuck to a very slow walk and took forever. Natasha was a natural rider, which didn’t surprise Darcy or Loki.

Darcy ended up having a favourite horse, a lovely grey mare, she was a gentle giant. Loki always helped her up, often flinging her too far so she would fall off the other side. That would usually end up with Darcy withholding sex for a day or two.

Luckily, he didn’t do that this time. He winked at her as he got onto his horse and the two went galloping ahead as normal. Thor and Natasha raced up after them with Tony and Bruce slowly lagging behind.

‘Hey, Birger! How’s it going?’ Darcy asked when they reached the stables and Birger was on duty just outside.

‘Good morning, Darcy.’ He took hold of the reins for her while she dismounted. ‘You’re getting better at riding, I see.’ He grinned.

‘Yeah it’s getting easier. Soon I’ll be bale to beat this one’s ass.’ She smirked and motioned to Loki who came up beside her.

Loki poked her side playfully. ‘Unlikely.’

‘You never know, My Prince. This mare is one of the fastest in the stables.’ Birger laughed.

Loki narrowed his eyes at Birger and then Darcy. ‘You’re turning Birger to the dark side. Stop!’ Loki put his hand over Darcy’s face with a chuckle.

Birger took Darcy and Loki’s horses from them, just as Thor and Natasha caught up with them. They knew the other two would take forever, so the four of them went inside and headed straight for the banquet hall.

Sif and the warriors three were there. They were pleased to see everyone, more so Thor. But Sif had a soft spot for Darcy, they got along well after they first met when Darcy and Loki visited for a week. Sif was secretly giving Darcy some fighting lessons, she wanted to surprise Loki.

Darcy had remembered when Jane told her about Sif, how she seemed stuck up and rather snippy with her. But Darcy had a feeling it was because Sif had a crush on Thor. So of course she would have been jealous of Jane.

‘Where’s the science dudes?’ Sif asked as everyone sat down to eat.

‘Probably still halfway across the Bifrost.’ Loki smirked.

‘Perhaps we should get them a carriage next time. Or take one of the ships.’ Thor suggested with a mouthful.

‘What are they hoping to achieve this trip anyway?’ Darcy asked as she filled her plate up with various meat and vegetables. She LOVED the food on Asgard.

‘Weren’t you listening in class?’ Loki rumbled, raising his eyebrow at her with a playful smile.

‘I was probably too busy staring at your ass.’ She shrugged.

Loki laughed while the others rolled their eyes.

‘I believe they’re hoping to finally get some of the magic from the healers into some kind of containment, so they can take it back home and study it properly. Change into something we can use. It would help speed up healing so much.’ Natasha said.

‘At least she listens in class.’ Loki teased Darcy, who then proceeded to stick her tongue out at him.

‘So childish.’ Loki tutted at her.

By the time Bruce and Tony joined them, the rest of them had stuffed themselves full and went to their chambers to get unpacked.

‘I’m gonna hang out with Sif while you are doing science with the others.’ Darcy said to Loki once they were sorted in his chambers. She was tying her hair up in a bun at the mirror.

Loki walked over to her and slipped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head as he looked at her in the mirror.

‘What do you two get up to together? Hmm?’ He asked.

‘Girl stuff.’ Darcy shrugged.

Loki raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. But he took her to meet Sif before heading off to the healer’s room himself to meet Natasha, Tony and Bruce.

As soon as Loki was out of sight, Sif took Darcy outside to the training area. She kitted her out with some basic armour, a shield and a sword.

‘Have you been practising the steps?’ Sif asked as she took out her own sword.

‘Yep. Well, whenever Loki is out of the way.’

‘Have you heard from Jane lately?’ Sif asked when they started doing some simple blocking moves, Darcy was able to step away and use the sword or shield to block any attacks from Sif.

‘Nope, nothing. It’s like she’s just vanished off the face of the earth.’ Darcy sighed.

‘Weird. I thought she was in love with Thor, she always seemed head over heels for him when they visited. Have you asked Heimdall to check in on her?’

‘Nah. She was such a bitch towards me and Loki ever since I was kidnapped by him in the first place. It’s up to her to come to me, if she wants to make amends.’ Darcy then took a jab towards Sif, surprising the female warrior and hitting her chest armour. But she was impressed.

‘Ohh, sneaky. You’ve been practising more than just your steps.’ She grinned.

‘Sure have!’ Darcy said triumphantly.

‘When are you going to show Loki your new skills?’

‘Tomorrow. I want to surprise him by asking him to teach me some moves. Speaking of which, can we work on tackling? I want to try taking him down.’ Darcy said as she stopped to catch her breath for a moment.

Sif laughed and put her arm around Darcy’s shoulders. ‘You really think you’ll be able to knock Loki down?’

Darcy shrugged. ‘I’m hoping the element of surprise will help me.’

‘Good luck with that. Loki is the champ of deception and he is NOT easy to take down, even though he doesn’t look very strong.’ Sif said.

‘Tell me about it. He can lift me with ease with one arm, uses me for weightlifting practice.’ Darcy huffed.

‘Sounds just like the old Loki really is back.’ Sif laughed.

‘Did he hang out with you guys when you were little?’ Darcy asked, they took a seat on a bench for a while to chat.

‘Not often. He was more into books and his magic. A bit of a loner. But I guess we didn’t help the fact by teasing and making fun of him, he was Thor’s little brother, that’s how we saw him. I feel bad now, knowing about his true heritage and everything he’s been through. But there were times his mischievousness shone through and he would join in sometimes.’

Darcy nodded. ‘He did tell me that he struggled because you would all fight with brute strength more than anything. While he prefers more skilled combat, using his magic and tricks.’

‘He is a highly skilled sorcerer, always has been after Frigga’s teachings. I think in a way, we were probably more intimidated by his skills than anything, which likely made things worse. There aren’t many people like him out there.’

‘There certainly isn’t. Which is probably a good thing, one Loki is enough to deal with.’ Darcy laughed and hopped back up to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s fight!’

-

That night, Darcy was getting ready for bed.

‘Hey, Loks. Can you poof me up my toothbrush? I forgot to pack it.’ She said as she rummaged through her bag.

‘Already in the bathroom.’ Loki said, he was in bed already, reading a book.

When Darcy headed into the bathroom, she smiled as she saw it was indeed there. Next to Loki’s in a little cup by the sink.

‘I used it to clean the toilet when we arrived.’ He called through to her when she started brushing her teeth.

Darcy popped her head round the door to look at him, brush sticking out of her mouth. ‘Yeah? Well I used yours to clean my ass. So guess that makes us even!’ She grinned and disappeared to the sink again.

Loki rolled his eyes and chuckled. ‘You can be so disgusting sometimes.’ He said loud enough for her to hear.

‘Right back at you!’ She shouted through.

He had just put his book down when Darcy came through to join him in bed. She jumped on top of him, he chuckled and let out a fake oomph.

‘Have you put on a little weight?’ He asked as he poked her sides.

‘Hey! That’s not a very nice way of flirting.’ Darcy scowled at him.

Loki smirked and ran his hands up and down her upper arms, squeezing her biceps. ‘You’ve got more muscles…’ He hummed. ‘Why have I not noticed this?’

Darcy rolled off him to the side. ‘Maybe because you’re too focused on other aspects of my body.’ She grinned and started un-buttoning her pyjama top, hoping to quickly get his mind off her new muscles.

‘Mmm… indeed.’ Loki purred and rolled on top of her.