#I have a soft spot for little Tempest

[bye-bye-sunbird]

Tempest being a tsundere cat is precious 😭👌 The fact he acts like little dove personnal bodyguard is also a thing, cold and fierce, but touch her and you're dead. I can picture him hisses and jump on the first person that approch little dove to much and it's 👌 Everyone seem to fear this cat, but nobody can dispose of him because little dove will be heartbroken (And nobody wants to deal with the consequences-).

10000%

He really is not a cute-looking cat. Life in the city was incredibly hard on him, and most people find him difficult to look at.

The cook absolutely LOATHES him, since he's always stealing something from the kitchens, so accustomed to having to earn his food. The maids dislike him too, since he brings his food to your room, the only place in the world where he actually feels safe.

You never try to force contact with him, you let him be the presence in your life he chooses to be. So he's your little guardian, and even if he does fear Capitano, he stands his ground and is always ready to attack him the moment you decide you don't want to stand him anymore.

#I have a soft spot for little Tempest #the capitano agenda #little dove lore #anon ask

[sinisteryanderescribe]

Hello Sia I was thinking of what Norton's reaction if Nurse Reader if she got invited into the manor

Maybe in the ashes of memories timeline Nurse Reader is like an employee that the manor hired to help with Alice, because she isn't feeling well during the part 2

Then Nurse Reader saw Norton doing during the night or something

A Memorable Face

…………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………….

Norton is likely to experience a range of emotions upon encountering you at the manor. Given his experiences in the mines, he might initially feel a mix of surprise, confusion, and perhaps even a tinge of gratitude upon seeing you again. The memories of the explosion, as well as the care and kindness you showed him during his recovery, could resurface, evoking a sense of nostalgia and perhaps even a renewed appreciation for you.

Moreover, Norton might undergo a transformation as he realizes the significance of you being at the manor. He may be compelled to reflect on his past behavior towards you, recognising how you had treated him with kindness and respect despite his initial coldness. This realisation may lead Norton to feel a sense of remorse and a desire to make amends for his past demeanor. Even though you may be a class higher than him, he couldn’t help but admit to having a soft spot for you.

Norton's heart raced as he stepped into the opulent halls of the manor, his mind still reeling from the enigmatic invitation that had brought him to this place. The memories of the mine explosion, the acrid scent of smoke, and the agonizing pain that had wracked his body flooded back with every echoing footstep. As he navigated the grand corridors, his thoughts drifted to the you who had tended to him during those dark days of recovery, your unwavering kindness a stark contrast to his own initial aloofness.

Meanwhile, you who was just hired by a strange manor just walked out of Alice’s room after tending to her, a sweet but noisy little thing she is. As you wandered the ornate halls of the manor, a sense of anticipation mingled with trepidation, your thoughts inevitably turning to the enigmatic figure of Norton, whose distant demeanor had not dulled the empathy and care you had shown him during his convalescence.

You’ve always wondered what could have happened to the man. After the accident of the explosion the news stated that there were no survivors but there was a few who got heavily injured and some who were reported missing…

It was under the moon's silvery gaze that your paths converged once more. Norton, his troubled gaze scanning the dimly lit ballroom, caught sight of you, a familiar figure amidst the gathering. Time seemed to stand still as your eyes met across the room, a torrent of unspoken emotions swirling between them. The years had etched lines of wisdom and resilience on your faces, yet the bond forged in the crucible of adversity remained palpable, an invisible thread that connected their souls.

For Norton, the sight of you reignited a long-buried ember of gratitude and remorse. His steps faltered as he approached you, the weight of unspoken apologies and newfound appreciation heavy on his tongue. As he stood before you, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow on your features, he found himself at a loss for words.

…you were still as beautiful as ever.

In that fleeting moment, you beheld the man you had once nursed back to health, your hand tenderly cubbing his cheek, grazing your thumb on his cheek. His gruff exterior now softened by the passage of time. The echo of distant pain lingered in his eyes, yet beneath the surface, you glimpsed a glimmer of vulnerability that had eluded you before. As your gazes locked, an unspoken understanding passed between you, bridging the chasm of silence that had separated you for so long.

The touch of your soft skin stirred a tempest of emotions within Norton, kindling a fervent desire to express the depths of his guilt and remorse. Yet he didn’t know when to start.

With a reverent touch Norton gently wrapped his arms around you, drawing you into the shelter of his embrace. He found solace in the gentle curve of your waist, his touch a whispered vow of unyielding devotion. Pressing his lips against the crown of your head, his breath mingling with the soft tendrils of your hair.

“ Norton…”

The man said nothing but with a whispered sigh, he nuzzled his nose and face in your hair, inhaling the delicate fragrance that enveloped you. The heavy scent of your perfume stirred a symphony of memories, each note a testament to the enduring imprint you had left on his heart.

There’s so much to ask but right now, you stayed silent as you melted in Norton’s arms…

#idv #idv norton #idv norton campbell #idv prospector #idv x reader #idv norton x reader #identity v x reader #norton campbell fluff #norton campbell x fem reader #norton x reader #prospector x reader #norton campbell headcanon #norton x fem reader #norton campbell #x reader #fluff #idv angst #sfw

[hxzxrdous]

Platonic Lady Lesso x Never!reader

Note: I love you sisss, this one is for you. It's not a color changing pendant, but I hope you'll still like it, lol. Love you @v3nusxsky . 💙🩵💛

TW: Borderline personality split (please, keep in mind that people's experiences for the disorder differ)

The beast

She shouldn't have. But she did. Lady Lesso had a soft spot for one of the students - you.

And you knew it. How couldn't she? She had known you for a couple of years now. You were so extremely shy and fragile the first year that you attended the School for Evil. And it was valid. The school master told the dean about what kind of family you came from and everything you went through. Lady Lesso wasn't the kind of woman to baby students but you were different. You deserved some love and a proper parental figure.

Lady Lesso seemed to have an innate understanding of your struggles, the tempest of borderline personality splitting symptoms that sometimes raged within you. Yet, she saw past the turbulent exterior to the vulnerable heart seeking solace and guidance.

One crisp morning, you entered the classroom early, ready for today's first class.

Lady Lesso motioned you to her desk, her voice soothing. "Y/N, come here to speak with me for a second dear, please." Lady Lesso waved with her hand.

Curiosity danced in your eyes as you approached, met with the sight of a dazzling blue pendant, held delicately in Lady Lesso's graceful hands. "For you, a token of my affection," she proclaimed, her tone softer and more soothing.

"That's for me? It's so lovely..." you gave a small smile then your gaze turned towards the door as you saw your Never peers, the classroom quickly piling up. "Talk to you later, Lady Lesso." You added as you hurried to the desk all the way in the back and sat down.

She watched you, a little worried over how easily you are pushed away from conversations. Still, she tried to be hopeful.

Lady Lesso stood up and began walking around the classroom.

"Your other classes may be pageants of ineptitude, but not here. There will be no challenges until I see you are worthy." The evil dean explained, tapping with her cane every now and then.

The students listened, and some rolled their eyes, but none of them dared acting up more than a minor sigh or groan.

Lady Lesso usually asked the class some questions during lecture during which you usually raised your hand. You noticed however Lady Lesso ignored your raised hand multiple times this day.

She paused for a moment and glanced at you. She sighed. Then, after a few moments, her gaze returned to the rest of the class. She kept going, ignoring you completely.

Your mind went spiraling out of control. Convinced Lady Lesso hated you. Your raised hand consistently overlooked, amplifying your internal turmoil.

After the lesson ended, you walked past Lady Lesso. Normally you’d offer a sweet smile for the dean, but not this time - you were giving her the silent treatment. Lady Lesso was lost in thought and by the time she realized, you were already past Lesso.

You ran through the corridor. You were so angry. No... Mad. You were mad. Everyone hated you. Including Lady Lesso, who was the only person you trusted. But now Lesso ignored you. It sure meant she hated you if she ignored you? You entered your dormitory. You were so angry you were physically sick, you were sure you were going to throw up, shaking, tears flowing. You looked around the dorm room, your mind woozy. Lady Lesso's 'love' was just an illusion. And illusions shouldn't be trusted because they play tricks with your mind. You started trashing around the room, your bed, your closet, fliping over your study desk. Your emotions erupted like a tumultuous storm, the room bearing witness to the tempest of your feelings.

As you were trashing your room, Lady Lesso walked by. Hearing the commotion, she knocked on the door. She opened it to see how you were doing, only to see your room trashed and you crying.

"You were being very passive agr- Honey?"

You turned around towards Lesso.

"You...You're just like my parents. You only act like you care for me. You're a liar. A-and-" You wiped your tears, grabbing the blue pendant that Lady Lesso gave you this morning. "I don't need anything from you. I HATE YOU." You threw the pendant on the floor. The sight now mirrored the chaos within your heart - shattered fragments of the once-beautiful pendant.

"Honey-"

The dean tried to offer some sort of comfort, but you continued to deny her, almost hitting her. The dean sighed. She walked up and kneeled in front of you, putting down her cane.

She reached out, holding your wrists together in case you'd hit her again, placing the other hand on your cheek, wiping your tears with her thumb. Her tone soft and comforting.

"Y/N..."

"Don't touch-" you tried to back away.

"Look at me, Y/N-" her grip on your wrists tightening.

She tried to keep her voice kind. She didn't want you to break anymore than you already had.

"Honey, listen. I know your family is not nice, I know that you are lonely and scared and hurt. But that doesn't mean everybody will hurt you."

"Take me for example. When did I hurt you?"

You blinked in confusion and shrugged your shoulders.

"You didn't- B- but- you hate me. You hate me, I know you do-"

"Y/N, I do not."

She sighed.

"It is true. Many people in life hurt us. You have already been hurt so much by your family, and that's why you're afraid of being hurt again. But I promise you, I will never hurt you. I will always be here for you, darling."

"Then why did you ignore me in class?"

Lesso sighed once again, her voice remaining soft and motherly.

"Y/N, I... I am so sorry. If I seem to be ignoring you, I swear it is not intentional. If I am distracted by something, I don't even notice that you've raised your hand. And you sat today all the way in the back. Trust me, I love you so much, and I would never ignore you in purpose."

"You love me?" You tilted your head.

"Y/N... I love you like a daughter. I care about you so much, and seeing you so troubled because of me makes me feel guilty. I will do better, I promise. From now on, I will look around the class and see if you're answering or raising your hand."

"You really do? But- but I'm so- I'm so immature and- and I act weird and... I'm... always so angry," you shook her head in disbielef. How could someone love you when all you did was push people away? Sometimes not on purpose but mostly on purpose.

The copperhead leaned over and pressed her forehead against yours.

"Darling, believe me when I tell you that you are not as immature as you think. In fact, you’re quite smart."

She reached out and placed both hands on your cheeks. With a loving, caring voice she continued.

Tell me, honey, do you ever feel like this rage is a beast, a monster inside you that only gets bigger and bigger? And even in calm and joyful times the fear of it showing up and hurting people around you becomes overwhelming? Do you feel like that, Y/N?"

You gave a small nod.

"Oh, honey, I know that beast. I know it all too well. I know how it feels like and how scary it can be."

"Listen, darling, that beast? It's a normal part of you, just like the love, kindness, and intelligence are parts of you. You need to accept that there is a beast inside you, and work to tame it."

Lesso stood up and walked to the pile that you trashed. She scooped up the pendant. She then stepped back next to you and held the pendant with her right hand, squeezing it into a fist and opening the hand again.

"Like this pendant, you too shall heal and shine with renewed brilliance," Lady Lesso looked at you and offered you the mended pendant.

"Please remember that my affection for you is real. Let the pendant be a reminder of my love for you."

"I'm sorry." You nodded and accepted the pendant again.

"There is no need for you to apologize, love. I know you think your feelings are a problem, but those same feelings also make you human. I know your family taught you otherwise, but I want you to hear me. You are not a problem. You are not a monster. All you are, is wonderful."

"Wonderful," you nodded and repeated.

"Yes, honey, you are wonderful. Always know that, okay?"

In that moment, you found a sanctuary in Lady Lesso's embrace, a refuge where vulnerability was not a burden but an opportunity for growth.

The dean hugged you tight, holding your face, caressing your hair while rubbing small circles on your back.

"Let all those emotions out, Y/N. Let your hurt, your fear, and anger out. Let them all out. They are valid. You are valid," Lady Lesso whispered as she watched the blue pendant around your neck, it's colour changing into bright shade of yellow.

#lady lesso #lady lesso x reader #leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #sge #the school for good and evil #sge netflix #sge fanfiction

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Rolling over the Clouds - An EZ Reyes/Reader/Manny Smut Short.

I think I’m going to be regularly contributing to writing this kind of throuple set up. I like it :D

Words - 822

Warnings - Smut (inc. m/m sexual acts) below the cut, minors DNI!

It’s all slow and rolling that afternoon, much like the summer storm that rumbles overhead, your bed, dressed in grey linen, not unlike one of the heavily laden clouds above, the soft covers sumptuous as you and your boyfriends enjoy one another after all taking a bath together. Yes, you furnished your bathroom with a much bigger tub solely for the reason. Because why get hot and wet alone, when you can do so with two very handsome accompaniments?

“You know what we are right now?” Manny asks, laying hot licks over your clit, EZ behind him, a well-lubed hand trawling his cock while he rims him from behind.

“Really fucking horny?”  

Your suggestion makes them both snicker, Manny continuing. “Nah. Sexy version of the human centipede.” You can’t help but explode into giggles.

“I don’t want that visual in my mind right now,” EZ snorts, biting him on the butt cheek as reprimand, Manny growling.  

“God fucking damnit, that hurt!”

EZ laughs devilishly. “You must have liked it, though. It made this gorgeous, big cock of yours pulse.”

Manny raises an eyebrow, casting a glance back over his shoulder. “Maybe do it again, just so I know for sure?” His request is obliged, a rich groan tumbling from his mouth, burying it back against your folds, licking over your clit with long, repetitive strokes, making a constellation soar beneath your skin, the pleasure biting, the heat of his mouth like a summer tempest, his eyes almost black at he stares up at you.  

EZ emerges from behind him, kissing a path up his spine, Manny shuddering as each hot, open-mouthed pucker hits his skin, EZ reaching for his drink on the nightstand, gulping it back.  

“Thirsty work, huh?” you quip, EZ raising his eyebrows as he drains the glass.

“Between keeping you and him happy, I can’t feel my jaw either.” You identify, having both of them, well endowed as they are to please with your mouth, EZ coming to lie as your side, hand stroking over your curves as he circles your nipple with his tongue, Manny emerging from between your legs to plunge into you, parting your walls and filling you to the hilt, leaning to kiss you. He then turns to EZ, granting him the same, the sight of them locked at the mouth the catalyst to a heavenly warmth spreading right through you, as it always does, groaning softly against the push of one another’s tongues.

They then shift their focus back to you, EZ kissing your neck, Manny pausing to grab the lube and squirt a little onto his palm, wrapping his hand around EZ’s cock and giving him a slow, firm upward tug that has him breathless, while his mouth closes over your nipple. Sitting back on his heels, he trawls your wet plush slowly, tingles erupting when the head of his cock drags sparks over your sweet spots, his hand wringing pearls of precum from EZ, warm and wet against your hip.

“Mmmm, fuck. That pretty little pussy sure got some fucking grip,” he groans, EZ reaching over, his fingertip sliding to your clit and circling slowly, making pulses throb through you, your bones smouldering, tongue rolling against his as you share hot, syrupy kisses. “I think she needs stretching out more, though.”  

EZ makes a small noise of approval, lips gliding over your jaw, tongue swiping your neck as he reaches lower, fingers stroking Manny as he slips back and forth before he pushes a finger at your entrance, the cock within you paused as his long digit slides in to join it, EZ adding a second, caressing you with more sumptuous kisses when you hiss and whimper a little. “You can take it, just relax while we open this pretty little cunt up. Mmmm, you feel so fucking good.”  

Little sobs wrack your throat, not entirely out of pleasure, Manny leaning to you, kissing your throat as they move slowly withing you. “Shhhh, baby. Want me to stop a minute?”

“No,” you pant, your nails dragging his chest. “Keep going, but slow.”

“I will, querida. Nice and slow. God, you’re getting so fucking wet.” They lavish you with strokes and kisses, their praise electrifying, your body relaxing into it, EZ’s fingers curling a little, stroking, stars shooting through your wet walls, Manny speeding up a little. “Yeah, good girl. That feel nice, darlin’?”  

Your voice breaks on a cry, your eyes shutting tightly as your body ripples, your back arching like a bridge, them the rushing water beneath. “Fuck!” The pleasure ascends like a creeper vine, tangling, rooting deep and coiling through your insides, your pulse throbbing wildly beneath EZ’s tongue.

“I think she likes it.” he whispers through a little chuckle, kissing your neck. “You do, don’t you? Like the feeling of when we make you ours entirely.”  

“Fuck yes.” You breathe, turning to kiss him. And nothing could be truer.

#ez reyes #ez reyes fanfiction #ez reyes smut #ez reyes x female reader #ez reyes imagine #manny mayans #manny mayans smut #manny mayans x female reader #manny mayans imagine #ez and manny #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #jd pardo fanficiton #manny montana fanfiction

[sweetdreamsbuck]

What about dancing in the rain with Bucky 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

cloudburst

bucky x f!reader

wc: 906 (sorry)

a/n: sorry these are taking longer than i expected! i have been so busy <3 reblogs and comments are appreciated

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

“Shit, it wasn’t supposed to rain!”

You’re right Bucky, this isn’t rain.

It’s a torrential downpour. The loud boom of thunder in the distance emphasizes your thought with a mocking glimmer, grey clouds spreading, drifting to illuminate the congested sky above.

Another gust of wind briskly delivers rapids; Bucky’s eyebrows pull impossibly tight, lining his large sulking eyes. Pure dejection mars his features, a whined whirlpool of profanities huffs past his lips as he effortlessly pulls you into his protective hold. “Aw Buck no, don’t do that– no pouting!”

His hand collects the blanket in one heroic sweep, ignoring your plea as he tosses it over his shoulder, the spoiled pastries and stray copy of Brontë’s finest– now of questionable merit– strewn inside. The wet touch of metal wraps its way down your arm, tugging you into a messy sprint.

Bucky's hips repeatedly collide against you as rainfall pelts down on your skin with the same ferocity as the dismay rolling off his body. Mumbles of his hatred for the weather– no good weatherman and the job he can’t do, my girl’s all wet now because of an idiot– drown out your giggles, prevent him from seeing that brilliant smile of yours that would show just how perfect it was being here with him.

The heavens seem to open, cracking loud, a new chill saturating the very little left of the air around you. Grass and leaves kick at your heel, discomforts of dirt and water jumping to compete from sky, to skin, to Bucky and back again.

Even through the terrible visibility, it’s impossible to look anywhere but at Bucky. He’s a picture– soaked, a skintight shirt clinging to every muscle and soft bump alike, his blue eyes glowing as a refuge in the storm even past the agitated swirls rising in them. Bucky’s just that– a safe place, a gentle fortress standing firm in the middle of even the most severe tempest.

Your palms cradle his bicep, planting your legs and urging him to stop.

“What’re you, the car’s only a few–”

“Dance with me.”

His eyes narrow, flicking back and forth hastily between your own. But your hands cup his jaw, ground his focus to that of your honest request, not a hint of irony alive in your tender touch. It strokes at his pulse, rubs the spots just below his ears that quell his shakes of disbelief before they fester further.

It’s impossible to deny you anything– not when you speak in that sweet voice– beaming up at him like he’s the only reason you’re standing.

But it’s pouring. “Here? You’ll get sick– I c”

“Please,” you uncurl his fist from the bundle over his shoulder, tossing it to the ground. Arms rest atop his shoulders, purposeful hands wrapping softly together around the dripping hair at the nape of his neck. You smile, a soft, teasing thing only for him to see, and fuck it’s radiant. He’s never felt more alive basking in it, all while you continue easing circles down the span of his neck, faintly prompting him to sway. Another request to dance leaves your lips, an irresistible “please, baby,” anchoring deep within the depths of his stomach.

He gives in immediately, gave in with no hesitancy, his hard features softening the moment you gazed at him– you twist away with a squeal. Flesh and metal hurriedly find your waist, tightly clinging to your hips when you start spinning, leaving no choice but to follow after you and the sprite melody of laughter leaving your lips.

His cheeks split into a broad smile, unable to contain his joy at the beauty maniacally giggling, carelessly, as if she’s lived a thousand lifetimes here in his arms and would live a thousand more. Bucky envelops your frame tightly, whirling you faster and faster around the open field, beyond drenched and frozen. Weightlessly, you throw your arms from his neck towards the sky’s heaviness around you.

“Gorgeous,” he laughs. So absolutely gorgeous, he thinks– has he ever felt this breathless, this delighted?

His confession warms you, thought of the roaring storm or the icy sting that won’t leave your bones for hours to come ceases to exist. Your hands find his chest, drenched but familiar as ever, firm and impossible to do anything but cling to as Bucky’s intoxicating scent and heat take the lead in your dance.

Strong hands embrace you, your soaked hair resting contently in the safety of his chest, just below his chin like you were made to fall there again and again. Bucky nuzzles close, fitting his soft kiss to your temple. A quiet hum rumbles in his chest while your fingers trail up his neck, lulling him alongside the tranquil sweep of your motions.

“Wasn’t pouting…” he admits, bashful and gooey under your caress, soothing the skin of his ear in gentle reassurance. Bucky’s lips never leave your skin.

“Sure you weren’t.” You’ll annoy him about it later.

Bucky slides his fingers up your arm, reaching for your hand. He teases a quick promise to your knuckles before spinning you out, then tugging your angelic giggles gently back home to bury within his chest.

His heart recognizes yours, thumping in time as one while you melt against his body perfectly. Bucky can't help but silently wish for rain more often, swaying you both slowly to the song of your laughter bouncing between the storm clouds.

So gorgeous.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader

[acupofqueercoffee]

“Your lips were soft like winter”

whumptober 2022 // Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader

ao3 — https://archiveofourown.org/works/42193464

When you were immortal, time became ephemeral.

A year, 365 days, was approximately 8760 hours long.

Oh but my darling, it felt like only just last night that we were standing side by side under the glittering onyx sky.

“Stars and their delightful twinkles, I’ve always had a soft spot for them.”

“Hmm…such beautiful creations, aren’t they?”

You had said to me, and I was aware.

“Quite.”

I was aware that your gaze, your warm, unwavering gaze that was unmatched by the kings and queens of twinkles themselves, was bestowed not upon the sky but upon me as you had uttered your sweet compliments.

“And yet, it’s a shame my lady that thousands of them combined cannot hold a candle to one and only you.”

After all, I could feel them.

You could not have known but it had pleasantly tingled from where your glittering gaze had burned into my skin.

“And here I thought you accompanying me out here was with no ulterior motive.”

“Can you blame me, my lady? You are more of a spectacle than the supposed spectacle itself.”

And could you blame me, my little vixen that your words had held the staggeringly omnipotent effect on a heart that even I had long since believed to be dead.

From the beginning, my darling, you were a strange girl.

Even that night, you had rendered me speechless with a surprising kiss: your pretty, pink lips enveloping mine, and just when I thought my heart could not run any more rampant than it already had, you had once again rendered it untamed.

“I love you, Alcina.”

Oh but I doubt you truly understood how brutal of a tempest those three little words had managed to bring about in me.

Such was the butterfly effect, my darling.

“I’m in love with you.”

For a fleeting moment, I dared rejoice, I dared hope, but as far as rationality was concerned, everything jolly had been too good to be true.

Reality was a bitter pill to swallow, but you had to swallow it regardless.

I had heard no waver in your voice. Nor had I detected a trickle of uncertainty in your eyes.

Oh, but your eyes. The look in your eyes had been a rather haunting fright. It was not your look, but my very own reflected in your dazzling, doe eyes that had scared me.

You would think me foolish, my darling, but on my face reflected in your eyes, I had seen the very pictures of blushing maidens whom I had considered no less than toys. I had made use of their silly infatuations with me to appease my demanding desires.

This was my carefully crafted game, and the idea that I could very well get played at my own game was daunting to say the least.

It had hit me like a ton of bricks that unlike anyone else who had come before you, you were capable of hurting me. You were dangerous. Dainty but dangerous all the same.

So, I had done the only thing that I was best at doing. One thing that I knew very well would make even the most tenacious of flowers wilt.

My cowardice got the better of me and I turned into cruelty. I tried to break you before I could one day be broken by you.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Could you believe me, my darling girl, when I tell you that it had been well nigh torture for me to shake myself free from your warm, gentle embrace.

“Is that how you see me? A mistake?”

When you had asked me, it had been no louder than a broken whisper. Your eyes were wet, and they twinkled as if, unbeknownst to me, stardust had been sprinkled into your doe-eyed gaze.

If only for a moment, the heart-wrenching beauty of your big, wounded eyes distracted me.

However, I was scared to the point of outrage, stubborn to the point of stupidity, and so, just as abruptly as it had halted, venom was once again flowing freely from my wicked lips.

“It is what you are! This hideous stain on the otherwise pristine white page.”

I had not known then what this tightening deep inside my chest was as a pained little gasp escaped out of your tantalising lips.

Had I had known what would have transpired that night, could I have been so cruel?

Had I had possessed only a drizzle of bravery to face my feelings as you had so bravely done, then, would our love be thriving now?

Surely, I would still have you in my arms, safe and sound.

It had been winter after all.

The rooftops were slippery, and my words had hurt you as if you had been physically impaired.

I reached for you, my dearest girl, once I realised that you were about to fall.

And even as you fell, I fell after you with the flimsiest of hopes that I could, that I would catch you in my arms.

I had never felt such hopelessness in my life than during those few seconds suspended in mid-air, with you only at arm’s length.

No sooner had the very tips of our fingers touched than you had whispered to me once more that you loved me.

Tears were cascading down your cheeks. And yet, my darling, you had worn the sweetest of smiles on your lips.

I suppose you had known.

I caught you. I did catch you in my arms. Of course I did, and I had embraced you so tight, so impossibly tight with a stubborn determination of never letting you go again.

Even when the whole ordeal had taken no more than three minutes, it had been more than enough for you to slip through my fingers.

I savoured the lovely taste of your name on my tongue, albeit fully understanding that you would no longer indulge my ears with your ambrosial voice.

Red had seeped into the blank canvas of paper-white snow. It was very eerily reminiscent of what I had said to you.

Only then did it seem to properly register within my muffled mind that you were gone.

Truly gone.

Just like that.

As simple as a sunset.

As easy as a flower trampled underfoot.

And my very last utterance to you had been those bitter, hateful words that I had spat so carelessly, so foolishly.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Alas, tears did not find me.

Instead, I could acutely feel an insufferable agony right where my heart was supposed to be.

Tentatively, I had caressed your exquisitely soft cheeks with my fingertips, and watched silently as the prettiest hues of pink slowly faded into the palest blue.

“I, too, am in love with you.”

The first time you kissed me, your lips were sweet, warm like honey.

The last time I kissed you, your lips were soft like winter, but they were just as sweet as I had remembered.

#whumptober2022 #no.1 #this wasn’t supposed to happen #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x maiden #fic #fanfic #character x reader #stargazing #confession #love confessions #tragedy #angst #alcina dimitrescu angst #ficlet

[loz-3]

The Huntress

Pairing : Loki x female reader Word Count : 1.9k Tags/Warnings : language, brief talk on bow hunting (nothing actually hunted), fluff Notes : I have an idea for a 2nd part to this, might do a follow up in the future

An early winter storm was fast approaching. You could feel the change in the normally calm & crisp air. It was getting to be about time to head in for the day. You had been out since dawn, hoping to cross a game trail, but the forest had been silent. It seemed the animals had all taken shelter in anticipation of the incoming weather shift. Slinging your bow into your back, you grabbed the handle to your sled and began the trudge home through the freshly falling snow.

Without warning, a hole opened up in the air. It was large and was surrounded by what appeared to be… sparks? And it was spinning? That’s definitely something not found in your forest. As you stared at the oval hole, a figure fell through it and landed hard, face down. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the hole closed and all trace vanished. Except, of course, the person laying unmoving in the meadow.

You rushed over. Where did they come from? (and more importantly) how did they get here? You turned them over, he was breathing but not awake. “What do I do with you?”, you asked, not expecting an answer. Glancing around, you noticed the darkened sky and swirling snow, “I guess I can’t leave you out here like this…”

You ran back to where your sled sat, initially forgotten when this man fell into your life, and brought it over to him. With some effort, you were able to get him onto the sled and started again for home.

A short time passed and home was just in view. It was a welcome shelter, compared to the tempest brewing outside. The cabin was cold, the fire had gone out hours ago. Pulling the sled through the open door and into the center of the room, you quickly spun, slamming the door against the blistering wind. Briefly checking over your shoulder at the unconscious man bundled on the sled, you decided to get working on restoring the heat before tending to him.

After several minutes and a singed finger, the black pot-bellied stove was full of warm, dancing flames. You shivered, holding your hands in front of the open stove grate, trying to get the feeling back in your fingertips.

Suddenly, the bundle groaned. You quickly turned on the spot and stood up. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, but his eyes did not open. ‘Damn’, you thought ‘must be worse than just a little bump on the head’. You knelt next to him and pressed your hand against his forehead… it was far colder than it should be.

You managed to pull him off of the sled and unceremoniously drag him over to the low bed. Using all your strength, you somehow got him up and almost comfortable-looking. Finally you were able to take a good look at the person you had brought home from the wilderness.

He was tall, or rather… long, as he was currently laying prone on your bed. Slim-built but muscular, clothed in primarily leather of fine grain and deep green in colour. There were a few slashes throughout, some deep enough for skin to be showing in places.

Travelling upward with your eyes, your gaze fell on his face. His devastatingly beautiful face. His hair was a cascade of raven curls, ending just at his shoulders. It was matted in a couple places and caked with frozen blood. ‘First things first, let’s deal with those injuries..’ you thought, grabbing your first aid kit and a damp cloth.

Gently, you knelt next to his head and slowly worked your fingers through his hair. Surprisingly soft, regardless of the messy state of it. You felt the back of his head around where the blood was. It felt bruised but the skin wasn’t broken. A very good sign for his prognosis. The cloth allowed you to clean up his tresses, dabbing away the now-sticky blood.

With that task done, you moved your focus to his multitude of slashes. You took an alcohol pad from your kit and very lightly ran it along one of the cuts. Your patient flinched. A strong hand shot up and firmly clasped around your wrist. Your eyes widened in shock. He was looking at you with a scowl. His eyes, oh…his eyes…vivid green with an intense focus that you found yourself getting lost in.

“Who are you, and where the Hel am I?”

His voice was low, pure silken honey, but you could hear the bite of suspicion under toning his inquiry. "I…umm", you began. The grip on your wrist tightened… "I won't ask again." He said as his eyes darkened.

"Hey! Ok, ok…my name is Y/N and you are currently in my home in Canada. I was just trying to clean your wounds…" you indicated towards the slash on his chest, "Please…I meant no harm."

The hand around your arm swiftly released and his expression softened. "Y/N… I am Loki, of Asgard." Loki pushed himself up and into a sitting position, "How did I arrive here? I don't recall being in Canada."

"You kinda fell though a… a hole of sorts… and landed in the middle of the woods. I brought you back here as there's quite the snowstorm raging." As if to punctuate your words, the wind suddenly howled and rattled the windows. Your fire started to sputter as the wind whipped down the flue pipe. "…shit! If that goes out, we might not get it started again until the storm dies down!" Hurrying over to the stove, you restricted the damper and the fire roared back to life.

Loki watched you as you fussed with the heat, following your every movement. He still wasn't sure about the situation he was in, but he knew you weren't lying to him. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. He raised his hand to his chest, running his deft fingers along the gash and then moving further to the slightly sore spot on the back of his head. "I can remember being with the strange Doctor regarding an Asgard relic… then everything exploded… and I awoke here." He muttered to himself, "That damned wizard… how many times must I be flung through his portals!"

As you worked at the stove, you were struck with a sudden thought. His name was Loki… LOKI! As in ‘brother-to-the-Avenger-Thor’ Loki. You had a literal God in your home, never mind that he was in YOUR BED! “Loki…” you began, “i…” what were you trying to say? Holy shit, no fucking way, you’re Loki? No… too harsh, the last thing he needs is a fan girl moment… “Are you hungry?” Perfect. Offer him food, that’ll be fine… you internally rolled your eyes at yourself.

He chuckled. “I suppose I could eat. Is there any chance you have a communication device I could use to contact the team?” He held up his completely smashed cellphone, “Mine is no longer in operation.”

“Absolutely! But unfortunately with this storm, it won’t be any good until the wind stops.”

Loki chuckled again “Then we wait.”

The hours passed quickly with the two of you deep in conversation, the offer of food quickly forgotten. You wanted to know how he was liking Midgard, he wanted to know all about your quiet life in the woods. You had told him how the opportunity had come up for the 160 acre property at a damn good price and your boss wouldn’t let you turn it down (and set up everything for remote working).

"Basically it allows me the freedom to do whatever I need to, be it becoming self sufficient for food or just sitting outside in the peace of the woods." You elaborated on your current situation. You weren't off-the-grid by any means, but you only needed to venture into the nearest town maybe once a month for necessities. There were plenty of foraging opportunities and the hunting was usually more fruitful than todays' attempt. "I didn't, however, expect an avenger to drop out of the sky today." You laughed.

He shot you a smirk. "An avenger, am I?" Your face immediately flushed pink, "and here I assumed you had no knowledge of who I was."

"Well, no… " you started, "When you told me your name, it clicked for me." The flush on your cheeks deepened and you thought to yourself 'I just didn't expect you to be so attractive…'. As the words passed through your head, Loki cocked his head ever so slightly, as if you had said them out loud. You didn't though… right? No… no of course you didn't, you aren't stupid. He must be able to read your expressions really well.

"On that note, " he said, ending the mental conversation you were having with yourself "the storm has seemed to have passed, it would be best for me to reach out to the tower and arrange a way back to them." Loki didn't sound very excited about the notion of having to return to his duties. You nodded and slid your phone across the table to him. He swiftly picked it up and dialed a number, waiting for the ringing on the other end before standing up and pacing the room.

Someone clearly picked up and he appeared to cut them off, " Yes. Yes.. .no it's not MY fault I… the Doctor… will you shut up a moment?" He pinched the skin between his eyes and took a breath, "Fine. Yes, I'm prepared." and he ended the call. He turned to you "My 'ride' will be here in 10 minutes. Apparently the Quinjet has been circling, waiting for the wind to calm."

"How did they know you were here?" You asked, realizing that neither of you had discussed exactly where your home was located.

Loki's face scrunched, "Apparently this thing is still able to transmit a location." indicating again to the destroyed phone. With a flash of seidr, it disappeared into wisps of green.

You nodded again. "Well, at least there's room in the yard to land, we might as well meet them outside." You reached for the door, thrusting it open as the jet slowly descended and settled in the only open space. The back slide open and the ramp extended to the ground.

Loki sighed reminiscently as you both stepped out into the bright white snow, “Honestly, this place reminds me of home. I’ve found in New York, no-one cares to learn to exist outside of concrete and metal. You, darling, are a life-giving breath to an imprisoned soul.”

"You are welcome to visit anytime you need, Loki." you promised. The smile that flooded his face was so jubilant that you swiftly moved forward and threw your arms around him in a tight hug. "Maybe call first…"

His chest rumbled with amusement and he gently returned the embrace. "I shall do that, Y/N. Thank you…"

A wolf whistle sounded from within the Quinjet and a familiar voice drifted out, "Let's go, Reindeer Games…we don't have all day to wait on you!". Loki's arms dropped and you reluctantly did the same, taking a step back.

"You'd better go, I guess." You smiled as he turned to walk up the ramp. He paused mid-way and glanced back with a mischievous grin.

"I will return, mark my words."

Tag list : @navs-bhat @lokixryss

#loki #loki laufeyson #fanfic #fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x f!reader #loki imagine #loki fluff

[unicyclehippo]

Uhhhh imodna prompts, deadly? :D

i’ve never seen such a display from you, she says, and laudna wishes that her voice was not a cool spot of dark water when she has been cooking under the hellcatch sun for an hour. not in all our years together.

laudna sighs. drifts down into her mind. what an ache, what a clutter it is to have even three voices in her mind—she cannot imagine the tempest that must be imogen’s.

as if the thought summoned her, imogen leans close. shoulder knocks against hers, pressure of her power pressing on her other side. almost a hug. ‘are you alright?’

laudna nods. tilts her head to an awful angle and rests it upon her friend’s shoulder.

it was something rather remarkable. a pause, then she speaks again, admiration a poisonous gloss across her words. rather beautiful, don’t you think? deadly, no doubt, but you felt it as i did.

‘no.’

imogen scoops her arm around her own. leans her head against the top of laudna’s. she laughs a little, no humour in it. ‘yeah. me neither.’

laudna does not correct her. it is rare that delilah comes down from her perch, as she calls it—her attic, as laudna imagines it, no better place for a wicked witch to make her haunt—and she doesn’t know herself what to do with the fact that delilah has now deigned to speak with her not once, not twice, but three times in as many hours.

don’t lie to me, dear. your body is as much mine as it is yours. after all, i shaped it, i killed it, i brought it back. and i felt the warmth in our chest as you did, draining it out of your precious friend. she doesn’t wait for laudna to speak. whether it is because she knows laudna doesn’t dare, not with imogen beside her, or because she is merely enjoying the chance to monologue, laudna doesn’t know. you know there is nowhere for me to go. i am deeply invested in your success, your survival. our survival. can you truly say the same for these…people you surround yourself with?

‘we’re a team. a family.’

imogen nods. her gloved hand curls around laudna’s; for a moment, it looks as though she wants to tangle their fingers together but it must have been a flight of fancy on laudna’s behalf because all she does is touch the ring, blood red, and then her hand returns to laudna’s wrist, resting there gently.

a family, delilah repeats. what good is a family? it offers no true protection against this harsh world—power is what matters. have you not yet learned that lesson? did yours not end up dead alongside you, powerless? cold fingers brush against the nape of her neck, that never-fading scar. laudna shivers. this family you claim, remind me, how long did it take that little one to hang your metal friend? do you think they would hesitate, should you misstep?

‘stop it.’ laudna’s voice cracks around the command. on her wrist—skin clammy, sweating ichor—imogen’s fingers still where they have been mindlessly stroking, tracing patterns.

‘laud?’

she pulls away from her girl, reclaims her wrist, her hands, buries them into her hair. through the hanging strands, she sees a speck of violet concern.

‘not—not you, darling, never you.’

imogen purses her lips, worried. ‘is it her again?’

shh, dear.

‘no,’ laudna lies. ‘pate! pate is being terrible, recounting the events of his - his busy night.’

imogen is quiet for a long moment before she leans in. splits the black curtain of hair with her fingers, brushing strands back behind laudna’s ear. her fingers slide down, stroke down to where laudna’s neck meets her jaw, where a lazy pulse occasionally knocks.

featherlight, imogen strokes laudna’s cheek with her thumb. it is so soft and tender a gesture that laudna is afraid she has dreamt it—but no, a streak of warm where those lightning-filled fingers have touched her.

imogen pulls back. ‘pate,’ she says. laudna knows she does not believe her. ‘okay.’

‘he’s - a very considerate lover, apparently.’

that makes imogen laugh, even as her nose crinkles with a grimace. ‘oh, laud - i didn’t need to know that.’

‘Is that not better than selfish?’

‘i- suppose,’ she allows, nods. lifts a hand to cover her burning red face.

laudna clicks her tongue. digs into her pouch for fabric, for some of the sturdy paper she had scavenged from various book covers, quickly fashioning a lopsided but functional hat. she sets it on imogen’s head. ‘there! the sun is awfully powerful, wouldn’t want to get burned now would we!’

imogen smiles. worry lingers behind her eyes, in the tilt of her head, the corners of her lips as she seems to struggle around asking laudna again. laudna turns sharply away. if imogen asks again, she will not be able to lie.

‘i should make a hat for everyone. that’s a nice idea. i think i should have enough material and there’s some time until the city.’

#short prompt #cr tag #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #imodna my beloveds #but only lowkey

[brainyxbat]

UsoVe- Birthday Disaster

Summary: Venus' special surprise for her beloved boyfriend doesn't go as planned. Happy Birthday, Usopp!

A soft, angelic humming floated from the kitchen, alongside a hint of a wafting, chocolatey scent. Tempeste G. Venus, the spellcaster of the Straw Hat Crew, was busy at work in the Thousand Sunny's downstairs kitchen. The calendar read April 1st. A very special day; specifically, her boyfriend Usopp's birthday! And she had a surprise planned for him; one that involved the risk of sneaking into the kitchen, without the crew's chef, Sanji, knowing about it. But it was a risk she was willing to take.

He was too busy celebrating with the others anyway to notice her. She was surprised he didn't have anything already; then again, he always prioritized the girls over the boys anyway. Even her, despite the fact that she was in a relationship with one of said boys.

"Done!" She beamed after pouring the chocolate cake mix into the cupcake liners in the pan. "Now for the moment of truth!" Once the oven was ready, she slid the pan inside, and eagerly shut the door. "And now, I wait."

"Hey, Venus-san~!" Brook called out. "The birthday boy's looking for you~!"

"Coming!" She called back, and glanced at the oven on her way to the stairs. 'I should only be a few minutes,' She thought, as she emerged out on the deck. An excuse could come later.

She spotted the man of the hour, smoothed out her skirt, and ran straight over, her gogo boots padding through the soft grass. He looked so handsome in his grey puffy pants, and black, red, green, and yellow tank top. His bee-striped cap was adorable under his goggles. "Heeey~!" She practically sang out, as her adorably messy, wrapped ponytail flew behind her.

Usopp turned, and brightened up at seeing his girlfriend joining them. "Hey, V! I was getting worried!"

She quickly pulled him into a firm hug of ecstasy. "Happy birthday!" She giggled.

"Thanks!" He held her close, and kissed the top of her head. "What held you up? Is everything okay?"

"Um... I couldn't decide what to wear," She replied with her pre-planned excuse.

"Ah. Well, you look perfect in everything."

"Thanks," She blushed, as he tucked her short, loose hair strands behind her ears. "So uh, what're we doing right now?"

As she joined in the festivities with the crew, things began to happen.

Bad things. Her "few minutes" turned into a few hours.

And had it not been for Chopper's keen nose, as they were sitting around chatting, she would have never known. "Hey, you guys smell something?" He asked around, and they all began sniffing the air.

"Hm?" Venus perked up with them. "Yeah, it's..." It smelled like something... burning. Her eye widened. Wait, burning?! The cupcakes! "Oh my God!" She scrambled to her feet, tore herself out of her boyfriend's arms, and made a hasty beeline, not noticing the others reacting.

"Venus?" Usopp ran after her with concern, his worry only increasing with her frantically muttering "No!" a hundred miles a minute. "Is everything okay?" She almost flew down into the kitchen, obliviously slamming the door shut behind her; before he could try following her down, he lunged back to avoid getting smacked in his long nose. "Venus?!"

Robin turned to Sanji, as the sniper disappeared after the young witch. "Did you start on something?"

"No I haven't, Robin-chwan. Not yet, anyway; it's a little too early for lunch."

"Whoa, it's smoking!" Luffy's eyes widened at the smoke billowing out of the open door, and the crew gathered outside, after Zoro whipped it away with a few slashes of his swords.

In the kitchen, Venus threw the oven open, coughing at the thick smoke, and thrusted the pan out of the heat. Panting heavily, she slammed it down on the table, and investigated her attempted creations. They were burnt to a crisp; hard as rocks, stuck in the now indistinctive liners, and far beyond edible. Tears welled up, and spilled out of her eye, turning into full-on sobs, as she dropped to her knees on the floor, and buried her face in her hands. Her plan had fallen into shambles; because she got distracted, her special surprise was completely ruined.

"Venus?" Shit! He knows! She heard him gasp, and quickly kneel down in front of her. "Venus! Oh my God, are you hurt?! Did you burn yourself?!"

"N-no," She choked out, "I..."

"What's that smell, V?" Usopp looked to the table, and saw the pan. "What are these?" After prodding at one of the burnt mounds, he looked down at his sobbing girlfriend in curiosity, and concern. "Venus? What were you doing in here?" He knelt down again, and held her shoulders. "What are those?"

"I..." She tried to respond, but her sobs overpowered her words, "I-I-I was... I-"

"Come here, V, come here." Usopp hugged her firmly, and rubbed her back. "Just calm down, and tell me what happened, okay? I got you, baby." As she cried in his shoulder, he gently shushed in her ear, and soothingly stroked her hair.

After almost a minute, Venus was calm enough to clearly explain. "Well," She sniffled, and wiped her eye. Thank goodness she had no makeup on. "I... I wanted to d-do something special f-for your birthday, so I, I wanted to bake some ch-chocolate cupcakes. I thought I would only b-be a few minutes, but... I lost track of the time, and it had b-been a few hours." More tears fell, and Usopp wiped them away, listening intently, as her cries started to worsen again. "I, I had something great planned, and I wrecked it!"

"Sweetie, it's-"

"I'M SUCH AN IDIOT!!!" She almost screamed.

"Venus, stop, please!" A heartbroken Usopp held her hands down from her face, as she sobbed harshly. If there was one thing he hated, it was his girlfriend putting herself down. "You're not an idiot, darling. Please don't talk about yourself like that. I-"

"Usopp!" Sanji raged, now fast-stomping down the stairs with Nami trying to hold him back. "What did you do?! How dare you make Venus-chwan cry!"

"Sanji, I didn't-"

"It was me!" Venus shouted through her tears. "He didn't do anything; it was me!"

Franky squeezed himself in. "What happened, little sis?"

"I, I was trying to make cupcakes for Usopp's b-birthday, and... th-they got burned, b-because I accidentally left them for hours!"

"What?! You used the kitchen by yourself?!" Nami exclaimed in shock. "Sanji-kun, did you know about this?"

"No."

The navigator turned back to the young witch, towering over her, and put her hands on her hips. "What were you thinking?!" She scolded, oblivious to Venus sobbing her heart out all over again. "Why would you use the kitchen alone, when you clearly weren't ready?! Now the kitchen's gonna smell like burnt chocolate for-!"

"NAMI, STOP!!!" Usopp screamed furiously, holding his girlfriend tightly. "JUST STOP IT!!!" His outburst turned the room completely silent, aside from Venus' heart-wrenching sobs, before he took a deep breath. "She gets it! It went wrong! She doesn't need you, or anyone yelling at her for it! Just back off, and leave her alone already!"

"Why don't we all wait outside?" Robin suggested, as Sanji escorted Nami to the stairs. "Let them talk alone." They all filed outside, with Robin helping Franky out in particular.

Usopp sighed, and cupped her head as she cried. "Don't let Nami get to you, baby. It's alright."

"B-but I-"

"Sweetheart, just the fact that you worked this hard to do something special for me..." His hand moved to her damp cheek. "I appreciate it so much. I appreciate you, always." She sniffled, though to his relief, she was more calm. "You're the best girlfriend anyone can ask for. It's okay to mess up; we all do it. But V..." He stayed as gentle as he could to avoid more sobs. "You should've asked Sanji to help you, if you wanted to do this. It could've been much worse; you could've hurt yourself."

"I know," She almost whispered, "I just wanted to do something myself."

"I understand, but there's nothing wrong with getting help. We're all a team, no matter what. If you want to try this again, ask Sanji for help; I know he'll be happy to do it. Maybe a little too happy." He smiled when she giggled at his last statement. That was what he hoped for. "There's that smile."

She blushed when he swept her long bangs back and kissed her cheek, where her old scar marked her skin. "I won't get swept up," She added on to his joke, making him chuckle. "But yeah, I'll ask Sanji for help."

"Good." He leaned in for a short kiss, his hand rested over her soft hair. "I look forward to it; take your time with it, V."

"Will do," She promised, and stood up with him, "Let's go back outside."

"Okay." Hand-in-hand, they exited the pungent kitchen, and emerged to the deck, where the others waited.

Venus noticed that Nami had a guilty look on her face, and shyly approached her. "Sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay," She assured with a smile, then turned to the chef. "Hey, Sanji? I was, uh... hoping to try that again. Will you help me, please?"

"Of course, Venus-chwan~!" He practically glided over. "It would be my pleasure!" Usopp rolled his eyes with a smirk; he trusted him to not steal his girlfriend, but he still went a little overboard.

"Thanks." She turned to Usopp, pivoted on her toes, and they shared another kiss. "We'll just be 20 minutes, half hour tops."

"Okay, V. Like I said, take your time with it."

"Yep," She nodded.

"And thanks again; you really are the best." He kissed her forehead over her bangs.

She blushed bashfully, as her gaze fell to her shoes. "O-only the best for you." She looked back up when he stroked her cheek for a moment, wiping the last of her tears away, before joining the rest of the crew. "Just you wait, Soppi; it'll be the best treat ever!" She giggled, and eagerly bounded back to the kitchen. "Come on, Sanji!"

"Yes, Venus-chwan~!"

Usopp laughed, as the chef floated after her. "She really is the best. Now, where were we?"

"So what do we do about the smell?" Venus asked, waving her hand by her nose after catching the scent again.

"No worries; we'll keep the door open today, so it airs out. Would you like to make a cake this time around?"

"That'd be great," She replied, "The cupcake liners are totaled now."

"That's alright," He beamed, "Sit down, I'll clean off the spoon and mixing bowl."

"Oh, I'll clean one of-"

"Nonsense, Venus-chwan~! A lady shouldn't have to clean up! Here, look for my recipe while I clean them. I'll make our lunches while you frost later."

"Okay," She giggled, then sat at the table, and flipped through his cookbook, as he started scrubbing. She gingerly nudged the cupcake pan away out of embarrassment; she decided it'd be best to not cry anymore, or this redo would take even longer.

-

A little over a half hour later, they were waiting for the chef, and the witch to come out. "I hope everything's okay," Usopp remarked worriedly, "You guys don't think she's upset again, do you?"

"I doubt it," Zoro replied, "If she was, that idiot would be flipping out more than her. That can be spotted a mile away."

"True."

A few minutes later, he perked up at some footsteps leaving the kitchen. "Hey, birthday boy~!" Venus called out cheerfully. "It's done!"

He rushed over, and smiled brightly; as the crew readied the picnic blanket, she proudly held a flawless, sweet-smelling chocolate cake topped with chocolate frosting, and "Happy Birthday Usopp!" was written on the center in yellow icing. The writing was a bit sloppy, but he loved it that way a lot more than if it was like typewritten work. "Venus, it's perfect! Thank you!" After Sanji took the pan for her, carrying it and their lunches simultaneously, he pulled her into a firm hug. "I absolutely love it!"

"I'm glad you like it!" She happily returned the gesture. "I couldn't have done it without Sanji!"

"Always happy to help a sweet, lovely lady like you, Venus-chwan~."

"Chill out, Perv Cook," Zoro snarked.

"Huh?!"

"Don't start anything!" Nami ordered.

"Yes, Nami-swan~!"

Venus took the cake back, so the crew brought out plates, drinks, and silverware. "Sorry the first thing didn't work out."

"It's okay, baby. This looks amazing; you both did great."

"Thanks," She blushed, as he kissed her temple.

After a few minutes, everyone sat around the cake, as Sanji used his lighter on the two number candles. "There we go, birthday boy."

"Thanks!" Usopp leaned in, everyone watching in participation; when he blew them out, they all cheered enthusiastically, Venus hugging him from the side and kissing his cheek. "Let's eat!" Once the candles were out, Zoro cut the cake into perfectly even pieces. Before Sanji could prioritize the girls over the birthday boy, Venus quickly took over, and handed her boyfriend the first piece. "Thanks, V." She took a plate next, and while the rest were handed out, she snuggled up to him. She smiled wider when he moaned in delight. "Venus, it's so amazing."

"I'm glad," She giggled, and started on her own, "Sanji took care of getting it in the oven, but I did everything else myself."

"I'm very proud of you." He nuzzled his temple on hers, as Sanji argued with Zoro over whose piece was bigger. "You did great."

"Thanks, babe." She sipped her cola, and had another bite, "I think it turned out really good. Though the writing-"

"No nitpicking," He playfully scolded, "It's perfect. Also, I like the little bit of crunch inside there."

"Oh, it's chocolate chips. That was my idea; Sanji said he hadn't tried that before, but was willing to give it a go."

"You're a genius, V."

"Thanks," She blushed again. Feeling mischievous, she smothered frosting on her lips, and planted a large, chocolatey kiss on his cheek. "Mwah~!"

"Hey!" He laughed, with the others joining in. "Venus!"

"You got a little something there!" Luffy pointed to his own cheek with a wide grin.

Usopp's eyes widened when the captain's head was leering towards him, tongue out. "No-no-no-no-no!" He covered the spot, and shoved him away.

"I'll get it!" His girlfriend leaned in next.

"Venus! V! No!" Usopp tipped over on his side from her playful advancement, and held onto her waist. He laughed even harder when she began sucking on his cheek, and licking the frosting off. "Th-that tickles!" His laughter turned into cackles when she tickled his neck, back, and armpits with both hands.

Everyone was besides themselves by now at her silly attack, as she soon let him breathe. "Tickle the birthday boy!" Luffy shouted, and at his command, they all began clamoring.

"NOOOOO!!!"

-

Later on, Usopp was on night watch, as appointed. Great way to end his birthday... sorta. He yawned, as he fought off his fatigue from the exciting day. He smiled at the memories; Venus actually had another gift for him, in the form of a ram figurine with a face strongly resembling the prow of the Going Merry. He almost cried, but kept it together, as everyone admired it.

He vaguely heard the sound of whispered arguing, but paid no mind. Following it was footsteps; he looked over, and perked up at Venus approaching, now in shorts and a crop top, along with her robe and slippers. Her hair was down, and flowing to her waist. "Hey, you."

"Hey yourself," She flirted, and sat next to him.

"I didn't know you were set to go on night watch tonight."

"I'm not," She shook her head, "I just decided to join you."

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"I want to," She insisted, and snuggled up to him, "I want to keep you company."

"Thanks, sweetheart." He held her close, and kissed her forehead, before nestling his cheek on her scalp.

"So um, did you have a good birthday?"

"Absolutely. It was really great."

"I'm glad. Um, again, I'm sorry about-"

"No apologies, V," He cut her off, "There's nothing to be sorry about. You didn't mean to lose track of time; it happens to all of us. Besides, the cake was amazing."

"Thanks. Sanji was a good help. I didn't let him flirt with me, though."

"Good," He snickered.

She smiled, and kissed his cheek, then snuggled her head in his shoulder. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiled warmly, and brushed her bangs from her face when she yawned largely. "Um, you can sleep if you want."

"No, no. I'm doing night watch with you; gotta stay awake for that."

A few, short minutes later, she was out like a log on his shoulder. Usopp chuckled under his breath, and kept her close. "No need to apologize for this, sweetheart," He whispered, "You being here is enough. Goodnight, darling; I love you." He kissed her hair, and continued his night-watching duties, as she slept peacefully.

Good way to end his birthday.

#venus x usopp #bxb fanfics #one piece #usopp #one piece usopp #one piece oc #tempeste g. venus #HAPPY BIRTHDAY USOPP!!! 🎂🎉🎁 #this will be an usove alphabet one shot in the future #i just wanted to share it today separately

[mlmxreader]

Worship | Corinthian x trans!m!reader

@the-corinthian-og-begay-docrimes asked: I am a whore

Here’s a prompt

Corinthian just loving on his trans partner’s body: scars, freckles, stretch marks and all.

:)

summary: Corinthian is good with his tongue, incredible even, and he knows exactly how to use it to make you realise that he doesn't love you despite scars and stretch marks, he loves you because those things are a part of you.

tws: body worship, licking, swearing

MINORS DNI

It was difficult, sometimes, to accept that the Corinthian loved you and to accept that to him, your body was the best in the world and the only one he wanted to worship; it was hard to accept that he loved every inch of it, not despite of its so-called flaws, but because of them. The stretch marks that really looked like the strokes of a paint brush. The scars that told stories better than any book. The little knocks and bumps that told a short tale to soothe a tempest. He didn't love you despite of those things, and he never told you that they were flaws; Corinthian understood human anatomy well, he knew that those things were normal as it was, but when it came to you, they were simply little pieces of a masterpiece. A small selection of carved stone that created the best sculpture he had ever laid his eyes on.

The sounds of your moans filled the room as Corinthian set to work; it was early in the morning, and he had plenty of time to show you just what he thought of your body. He had you laid on your back, naked with your clothes chucked in a pile on the floor, and he knew exactly what he was doing with that tongue of his as he mapped over every scar, every bump, every little knock and every little mark that made you the mortal man he had fallen so fucking hard for. He paid the most attention to the top surgery scars on your chest, knowing how much it had meant to you to have that surgery in the first place and wanting to cherish and worship those scars the best way he knew how. Your breath was stuttering as you whined and wriggled against him, so needy and so desperate for his touch that it made him grin.

Corinthian knew human anatomy well, he knew which spots were more sensitive on others, and when he switched from one scar to the other, he couldn't resist it; wrapping his mouth around your nipple and flicking the sensitive skin with his tongue, making you gasp out as you grabbed his hair and moaned his name so softly. He really knew what he was doing with that tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't need a map of where to go when he could draw out the most sinful of cries from the back of your throat with nothing more than his tongue; he wanted to worship you, to worship your body, like you were the only damn thing he believed in. Corinthian would quite happily get on his knees for you at any given moment, confessing his sins as long as he could have you by the time he was done; but he didn't need to get on his knees right now. You didn't want him to. You just wanted to feel his tongue against the things that sometimes made it difficult for you to accept that he did love you. He was happy to do it, too, so long as he could throw a little teasing in here and there, as long as he could use his tongue to make you shiver and sweat and pant and moan.

"Corinthian," fuck, his name was like a prayer as it fell from those lips of yours. "Please, quit the teasing. Please."

Corinthian chuckled, pulling back from your nipple and daring to have a go at the scar instead; he made sure that you could see how he relished in every soft and gentle lap at it, that you could see how much he fucking loved it simply because it was a part of you. It did also help that he could taste your sweat on the tip of his tongue and that your little moans of his name made him feel as if he really was a god, even if it was only for a couple of moments. Still, when he moved down the bed so that he could get at your stretch marks, he had to flip you onto your stomach, making you laugh; such a sound was one he could never get tired of. You were an absolute fucking masterpiece.

"I'm gonna start here," he purred, gently tracing the stretch marks on your back. The most bold ones, the ones that reminded him of a Van Gogh painting with such prominent strokes. Fuck, he wanted to put his mouth on them so bad. "That okay?"

"Yes," you breathed out, voice a little hoarse as you grabbed the headboard and pressed your face against a pillow if only in hopes that it would catch the sweat on your forehead.

Corinthian didn't want or need to waste time, running his tongue across the bold paint strokes as he put his hands on your hips to keep you steady - and so he could move them to your ass more easily if he really wanted to; all of his focus was on you, on your fucking brilliant body that he wanted to pray to. He might have felt like a god, but when his tongue pressed against your skin, he wanted to be a believer. He wanted to be on his knees and praying for you. Even if it was his name that left your mouth like a prayer, he would have happily become a believer if it meant that it was your body he could worship every single fucking day, if it was you who he was getting on his knees for.

The strokes of his tongue started to move down to your hips, and he didn't miss the way you bucked into the mattress, your grip on the headboard growing a little tighter; it was obvious from the way your knuckles cracked. But he wasn't going to stop now, not when he had you moaning and whimpering for him. Not when he wasn't finished going over every fucking inch that he could; cherishing the way your sweat tasted, relishing in the textures of the different parts. Fuck. He really did just want to worship you today, he didn't give a damn about anything else.

"Corinthian," you breathed out. "Please... fuck... I fucking need you."

"I'm right here," he growled, grazing his teeth over your skin just to make you shiver and shake.

You grumbled softly. "No, not like that... the other way, please."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian x y/n #corinthian x you #corinthian x y/n #corinthian x reader #the corinthian imagine #Corinthian imagine #corinthian #the corinthian #the sandman x reader #the sandman imagine #sandman imagine #sandman x reader #the sandman #sandman

[wolfeyedwitch]

soft words of reassurance for bailey (either canon or pariah prisoner version)

Pariah Prisoner, Part 4

So... I'm gonna just... deliberately misuse a comfort prompt in the name of furthering my plotline. Sorry. I promise I'll have more comfort soon. I have Plans. This also serves as my WIJ Day 6 entry for the prompt "Hold On".

Shoutout to anyone who can tell me the two TV shows I referenced here. Bailey is a nerd.

CW: blood, injury, swearing, implied past torture/abuse, (concussion, broken nose, dislocated shoulder already happened and are mentioned), stabbing

Masterlist

---

“Okay,” Bailey muttered, trying to gather their thoughts. The scattered ideas felt like stained glass, sharp-edged and glittering. They wanted nothing more than to sit down and think of nothing while waiting for the worst of their pain to pass.

But they couldn’t. Their directions, their powers, were the only things that were going to get the heroes out of here. 

There was a job that needed doing, so they would do it. It was as simple and difficult as that. 

“Escape Plan A failed,” Bailey said, mostly to themself. “So we’re moving on to Plan D.” 

“What happened to B and C?” Foxfire asked.

“Not applicable,” Bailey said. They wanted to make a joke of it, but it wasn’t the time. Anyway, they doubted the heroes would get the reference even if they made it.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Icarus said. Bailey warily gazed at him, wondering if he was being metaphorical or literal. “What’s Plan D?” 

Metaphorical, then. Bailey let out a little sigh of relief. “Plan D is sneaking our way upstairs and going out through a window.” 

There was a long moment of silence as Bailey worked on the door’s lock. Eventually, they turned to look at the heroes, who were giving them looks with varying shades of concern and doubt.

“What?” they asked.

“Could you elaborate on that plan?” Tempest asked. 

“Because it seems a little…” Foxfire broke off.

Icarus finished for them. “Iffy.”

Oh. Well, that was fair. “There’s a set of service stairs. The lock for them is like this one, set into the wall, so Slipknot didn’t bother to set up cameras for them since they were the only one who could open it.”

The lock was an utter pain in the ass, honestly. It was barely more than a common turn-lock deadbolt, but the placement of it made it very secure. Slipknot could just reach in and turn the thing; Bailey had to work through a good few inches of wall to get at it.

Finally, they got a hold of the knob for the lock and started twisting. As they worked, they continued explaining. “Security is a lot tighter on the lower floors, since, you know, more likely area for breaking in and out. Which is why we’re not going there. There are enough blind spots on the higher levels that we can get to a window.”

The lock finally turned, and Bailey resisted the urge to pump their fist in triumph. They turned to face the heroes. 

“The windows are reinforced,” Tempest said. “Shatterproof.” 

Bailey gave a little nod. “Yeah. All of them. I have a plan for that too, though. That’s the part where timing is gonna be tricky, because I’ll have to get something, and it’s somewhere that’s monitored. We’ll have a small window of time to break the window and jump out.”

“Um…” Foxfire said. “Gravity?”

“Flight, wind, telekinesis,” Bailey said, pointing to Icarus, Tempest, and themself in turn. “Between the three of us, we should be fine. We don’t need to stop our fall, just slow it.”

Icarus still looked unconvinced, but Tempest just nodded. “Lead on,” he said.

Bailey opened the door, and the group made their way out. Bailey led them through the blindspots they’d mapped to the service stairs. They pressed themselves close to the wall while Bailey opened the locked door.

“If you can open this too, why didn’t Slipknot put surveillance up?” Icarus asked.

“Couldn’t do this originally,” Bailey said, frowning in concentration. The lock was sticking; it probably needed graphite, not that it was likely to get any. 

“They don’t know you can open their special locks?” he pushed.

“No,” Bailey said, trying to keep their tone even. He had made them lose their grip on the fucking lock again. “This was self-taught, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

The lock finally turned, and they opened the door to the stairs.

Now they just had to go up, and up, and up. Joy.

“How’d you learn, anyway?” Foxfire asked. Their voice was at least something more pleasant to focus on than the echoing clang of the group’s footsteps on the stairs. “It doesn’t look like it’s easy to do, so why bother?”

“Lots of exposure,” Bailey said curtly. Their head (and back, and nose, and… everything, honestly) hurt too much to keep their tone polite. 

“Sneaking around behind your boss’s back, Poppet?” Icarus asked snidely.

Bailey couldn’t help but flinch at the name. They resolved that as soon as they were somewhere safe(r), they would tell the heroes their real name. Even if they sided with Icarus and decided to put Bailey down, Bailey was going to go out under their own name. 

They weren’t going to remain as what Slipknot had made them into.

“Something like that,” they huffed. 

It was the truth… if breaking out of the room they were locked in counted as sneaking behind Slipknot’s back. When they’d moved in, Bailey had only known about the lock on the inside of their door. They didn’t know about the one Slipknot had set into the wall, the one that could override their settings. 

And that wasn’t even counting the times Bailey had frequented the cells for various lessons and punishments.

Finally, they reached the floor Bailey needed.

“Is this… a dorm?” Foxfire asked.

“Bigger rooms than your average college dorm, but close enough,” Bailey said. “This is one of the residential floors. There’s a window in the lounge. I just need to get something first.”

“What about other residents?” Tempest asked. 

Bailey shook their head. “Not many of them. I wasn’t kidding about these being bigger than your average college dorm. And they shouldn’t be here anyway; this is training time.” 

Which, of course, was when they ran into someone.

Viper opened her door just in time to see the four go past. She stared at them. 

They stared back.

Viper looked Bailey up and down critically, gaze lingering on their broken nose and stiffly-held shoulder. She seemed to come to a conclusion, and nodded slightly. 

“Hm. Seems that what I thought I heard must have been a remnant from that fever dream I was having,” she said, “because I don’t see anything out here.”

Bailey could have cried. Instead, they managed a small, shaky, “Thank you.” 

She gave them a crooked smile, showing off her fangs. “I sure hope that my fever dream ends before I have my meeting with Slipknot in…” She checked her watch. “Fifteen minutes. It would be very awkward to have to explain that to them.”

She dropped the pretense and added, “Go. Get out of here.”

“Thank you,” Bailey added fervently, then led the heroes off at a run.

They got to Bailey’s room, and Bailey frantically started looking for what they needed. 

“Come on, come on, I know I didn’t get rid of it, where the fuck did I put it after last time…” Bailey muttered under their breath as they pulled out drawers in their dresser. 

“What the fuck was that?” Icarus demanded. “You said there wouldn’t be anyone here!”

“Said there shouldn’t, not wouldn’t,” Bailey corrected. “Forgot that Viper is on bedrest and isn’t at training. And that was our new time limit.”

“Honor among villains?” Foxfire suggested.

Bailey gave a half-hearted smile. “Something like that.” 

Viper was one of the villains on the team who was halfway decent. She followed Slipknot’s orders, but she never went beyond the minimum necessary damages in training or on missions. Of all the people they could have run into during this escape attempt, she was probably the best option.

Bailey continued tearing through their room as they looked; it wasn’t as though it mattered if they made a mess, after all. They wouldn’t be coming back. 

“What are you looking for?” Tempest asked. “Could we help?”

Bailey shook their head. “No, it’s— ugh, why do I still have that— it’s small, you won’t be able to help. It’s a necklace.”

“How’s that gonna help?” Icarus asked skeptically.

“It’s a diamond,” Bailey said. 

Foxfire made a noise of agreement. “Not tougher than crystallized carbon,” they said.

Bailey smiled. They should have guessed Foxfire was a nerd. 

“That won’t work,” Icarus said. “The force you’d have to put behind it—”

Bailey cut him off. “I can do it.” 

He scoffed.

Bailey turned to glare at him. “This isn’t just your life on the line here; it’s mine, too. I’m not playing around. So unless you have a better idea? You’re gonna have to go with what I’ve got.”

They turned back to searching as Icarus gaped at them. They knew they still had it; they’d checked when they made this backup plan. And even before that, they wouldn’t have gotten rid of it. Slipknot had it made from one of the diamonds they’d stolen in the heist that led to Icarus’s intervention. It was both promise and threat, and Slipknot made sure that they wore it to every fancy occasion. 

It wasn’t a collar, but it was a claim of ownership just the same.

Bailey finally found the necklace, and the group made their way to the lounge to make their improvised exit. The heroes cleared the furniture away from the window. Bailey held the diamond necklace in place with their powers, then struck it like a hammer against a chisel. 

The reinforced glass spiderwebbed out from the impact.

“Well, well,” came a horribly familiar voice from behind them. “I have to admit, I didn’t quite expect this.”

Bailey turned to see Slipknot flanked by several other villains, including Viper. 

They’d run out of time. 

The ensuing fight was as vicious as it was chaotic. The villains weren’t holding back, using blows meant to maim or kill. Bailey did their best, but they were already at a disadvantage with their concussion and injured shoulder. Add to that the worry of protecting the heroes, as well? They didn’t really have a chance. 

A stray blow sent the broken glass flying from its frame, and Bailey took their chance. “Go, go, go!” they shouted, practically pulling the heroes out the window with them as they jumped. Something cold hit Bailey’s side, but they didn’t have time to think about it. They were falling. 

All of Slipknot’s sadistic training about heights paid off. With the help of Icarus and Tempest, Bailey was able to get all four of them to the ground safely.

And then they collapsed to one knee. Why… why weren’t their legs working? 

They looked down to their side, where they’d felt the impact of something cold. The handle of a knife sprouted from their skin like a weed. 

That’s not supposed to be there, Bailey thought. 

Like a weed, they plucked it from where it wasn’t supposed to be. 

That was when the pain truly set in. Bailey gasped at the sudden intensity of it, falling to their hands and knees under the unrelenting onslaught. 

Suddenly Foxfire was there, hands warm against Bailey’s skin. They pressed against the wound, making the pain worse. Why were they making it worse? Bailey groaned and tried to push them away, but was too weak.

Foxfire was shouting, but Bailey had trouble focusing on the words. The hero’s face softened with something like… concern? What were they concerned about? Had one of the heroes gotten hurt?

“No, no, Poppet, look at me,” Foxfire said. “Look at me, there you go, keep your focus on me. You’re gonna be okay, just hang on. Hang on!”

Bailey smiled weakly. They rasped, “Bailey.”

“What? Don’t worry about anyone else, just keep looking at me. You’re okay; we’re gonna get you to our medic, just hang on, Poppet.”

Bailey shook their head. “Not Poppet. It’s Bailey.”

Their eyelids were so heavy, far too heavy to keep open. They smiled as their eyes slid shut. “My name is Bailey.”

They were going to go out under their own name, after all.

---

I don't kill my characters, don't kill me please! (Exceptions may apply to irredeemable whumpers. Of which I am not one. Again, please don't kill me.)

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @appleejuice @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-des-lore @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway, @whumpcreations, @wicked-whump @heart4brains, @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm

#with bloody outstretched hands #pariah prisoner au #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #wij day 6 #wij2022 #whumpmas in july #whumpmasinjuly #hang on #soft words of reassurance #misuse of comfort prompts #blood #injury #major character injury #zera the hero #zera aka foxfire #luke aka icarus #elijah aka tempest #comfort asks #comfort ask game #yeah... #i'm aware this isn't super comforting #maybe next time i'll do a BTHB entry and make it comfort focused so i'm even with my misuse of prompts #escape attempt #escaping whumpees #tv show references #bailey is a nerd #so is zera

[petruchio]

Caroline please I need your favorite Shakespeare quotes

I love Shakespeare, and this guy I’m talking to wanted my favorite quotes? I could only think of two on the spot, and now we’re trading quotes for fun facts and I’m a nervous girlie who can’t think of any more.

Help me remember some bangers please? I think we generally have the same taste 😭💛

Specifically jokes you think translate well to modern audiences (even the dirty jokes are fair game, he thinks toilet humor is funny 😭)

But I’m also interested to hear your overall favorite quotes, if you’re willing to share!🌟

ohhhh what a good question!!!

this isn’t a joke or anything but my favorite shakespeare quote is calibans speech from the tempest

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices, That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep, Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak’d I cried to dream again. (III.ii. 130–138)

really i just love all of the tempest though and i would venture that it has the highest number of my favorite quotes. "oh brave new world that has such people in it," "we are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep," "where the bee sucks there suck i," "let your indulgence set me free," i love the language in the tempest so much.

hmmm in terms of funny quotes i always love to quote this RANDOM line that enobarus says in act 1 of antony and cleopatra that i came across in college and so of course i would just drop this into conversations whenever i could:

"Mine, and most of our fortunes tonight, shall be drunk to bed." (I.ii.46)

don't ask. i just read it one day and i never let it go because i am annoying like that.

OH i also love the as you like it one where jaques is like "i think rosalind is a dumb name" and orlando goes "there was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened" which just always makes me laugh bc like first of all jaques shut up who asked and second of all that's another one that i love to quote that one to people when they randomly announce they don't like things. i'm just like well there was no thought of pleasing you when [xyz happened].

umm another funny one is in romeo and juliet right before the queen mab speech:

Romeo: I dreamed a dream tonight Mercutio: So did I Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie (I.iv.548-551)

i just love him like yes tear him to shreds mercutio. (and then romeo coming back with yeah LIE IN THEIR BEDS dumbass like i love them) but romeo and juliet is like the tempest in that pretty much all the language is so gorgeous that it has a ton of amazing quotes. the most romantic one that i love is:

and, when I shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. (III.ii.21-25)

but of course there's so many other romeo and juliet moments that i love. like their sonnet and the holy palmer's kiss, but soft what light through yonder window breaks it is the east and juliet is the sun, thus with a kiss i die, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet... you know them already but come on they're #iconic for a reason

there's a ton of hamlet jokes you could grab too. and there's some really good puns in much ado about nothing that translate pretty well to a modern audience, but i can't think of any off the top of my head.

hopefully that helped haha!! those are some of my favorite quotes but obviously shakespeare is so rich and varied and there's a lot more of it than i can mention in one post -- like there's so much you can find that is even less basic and boring than these ones... but those are some of my favorite quotes from my boy will

#answered #anonymous #shakespeare

[contreparry]

Happy Friday Contre Parry! I would love to see what you are thinking for "A conversation you wish had happened in canon" this week!

I'm really on a Vivienne kick today, so here's a conversation I wish could have been expanded upon in the canon for Vivienne and a mage!Trevelyan for @dadrunkwriting!

The resemblance was uncanny.

Not in physical appearance. Senior Enchanter Lydia was, as Vivienne recalled from the one time she met the woman in person, as similar to Enchanter Evelyn Trevelyan as the sun was to the moon. And they were different in demeanor as well, Lydia all sunshine and smiles to Trevelyan's measured cool calm. But here and there she spotted traces of her old friend in the young woman who stood before her. There it was in the critical examination of every paper that passed her desk. It was in the way she flipped through the dusty pages of old tomes, gentle, so gentle, caressing each page as though it were as precious as gold. And Vivienne saw it now as Trevelyan eagerly expounded on a minor detail of her herbal research.

Shared enthusiasm was not uncommon upon mentors and disciples, but the light in Evelyn Trevelyan's dark brown eyes was eerily similar to the brightness of Lydia's spring green whenever she spoke of thaumaturgy. It was remarkable.

It was frightening.

"I was well acquainted with Senior Enchanter Lydia, you know," Vivenne said when Trevelyan paused for a moment in her impromptu lecture. The letters they exchanged over the years would have filled volumes, but who knew how many of those letters survived the fall of Ostwick Tower? Who knew what happened to Lydia's things when she died. Was murdered. And as for the murderer... Vivienne carefully examined the woman sitting across the table from her.

It was not a question of capability but of motive. Lydia had many pupils, but few could have ended such a skilled Mage. Even fewer could have found the opportunity to do so. But Trevelyan... Vivienne watched the woman pour a cup of tea. Her hands did not shake.

"I know," Trevelyan finally said, her voice soft and even. "Lydia spoke of you often, Madame."

"Oh?" Trevelyan was giving her an opening, which was rare for a woman as guarded as her.

"She enjoyed the gossip you shared, of course. Nothing happens at Ostwick. Happened. But she discussed your research the most. She always said you were the most inventive alchemist she had the pleasure to meet," Trevelyan confided, her expression wistful. Masterful actor or innocent party? Vivienne watched Trevelyan stir a dollop of honey into her tea, watched her eyes go misty with memory- or was it guilt?

"Ever the scholar, Lydia was," Vivienne said.

"That is the Ostwick way," Trevelyan replied distantly. "She... I cleaned out her study. After she died."

"After she was murdered by her pupil," Vivienne corrected. Trevelyan didn't wince. Her expression was as stone, but her eyes- there was a tempest stirring in those eyes, and wasn’t that interesting? Lydia was like that as well, Vivienne recalled. She could lie and flatter and blather on like any other skilled player in The Game, but if you knew where to look- if you looked at her eyes- her true feelings were easily discerned.

Trevelyan was angry. Clumsy to let her feelings be known, but Vivienne wouldn't complain about a gift falling into her lap. Anger was something she could work with, though it also brought some interesting questions to light. Was that anger at the death of a beloved teacher or anger at being accused of murder? Or perhaps it was anger at being found out. It was not the murder itself that was scandalous, for The Game could not be played without a few pieces falling under the sword. But this was personal. Lydia was a friend, and if Vivienne could unravel this mystery- well, her heart would rest a little easier if she knew why Lydia died.

"Mages are not in the habit of carrying poisoned misericordes. But you know that,” Trevelyan replied coldly, her tea dangerously sloshing around in the teacup when she set it down. Didn't even take a sip. How very interesting- but Vivienne hadn't known about the misericorde. A distinctive weapon. Flashy. If Trevelyan was being truthful, then Lydia's murder was not exactly what it first appeared.

Of course it wasn't. When had Lydia ever done anything expected? Even her death would be a layered mystery.

"A Bard in Ostwick Circle sounds absurd,” Vivienne finally said, “but as it was Lydia, I will allow for the possibility that one might pay her a visit.” It made a twisted sort of sense: Ostwick Circle was neutral, which Lydia gracefully maintained for a long time- too long, clearly, for someone removed her from the picture and flung the sleepy Circle into chaos. Anyone could have done it, and Trevelyan wasn't quite in the clear yet, but somehow... Vivienne looked over the young woman again. Shemet her gaze, unflinching, and Vivienne smiled. Enchanter Evelyn Trevelyan, no matter if she was guilty or innocent of the crime of murder, was going to be interesting.

"We have many matters that need our attention," Vivienne declared, and she broke part of an overly sweet tea cake over her plate. "But rest assured, I will investigate Lydia's murder. Thoroughly."

#my writing #da drunk writing circle

[kaelsleftverdantsphere]

Emotional damage

What if Illidan found out about Kael's plans before he left for the Tempest Keep

---

"You have no idea what you're dealing with, Kael'thas..." The demon hunter said, watching his companion.

"I know exactly what I'm dealing with..." Kael smiled and looked away. "I've known you for a while now, Illidan."

"You think so? The time you've known me for means nothing-"

"-compared to the time you spent in that one filthy room... I know all of your sob stories by now. I know all of you..." He touched the demon hunter's chest. "And I will use that knowledge to my advantage."

"I wonder, Kael'thas... how we would be under different circumstances..." He buried one of his clawed hands in the prince's long hair and pulled it, which was followed by a whine from the smaller elf. "If I didn't find out about your little plans... If you didn't have them in the first place. I always thought you were a smart one, Sunstrider..."

Kael'thas laughed and traced his nails over the tattoos on Illidan's chest. "Are you the one who should judge me, darling, truly?" He giggled. "I am not the one they call the betrayer after all, am I..."

"You might as well be..." Illidan growled, pulling Kael's hair, hard. "I trusted you..."

"Ow, Belore, Illidan... Stop, you're making me blush-"

"You're impossible!" Illidan let go of his hair and just looked over Kael's room, thinking of what his next course of action should be. "I can't believe that you would... you would side with an enemy-"

"Of course I would! You aren't delivering on your promises and I had to make a choice! I won't let my people suffer just so that I can stay with you, you cannot possibly expect that from me..."

"I am trying, Kael'thas! I am doing everything in my power to defeat the legion and all you do is whine and SIDE WITH THE ENEMY?"

"But defeating the legion is not what I asked you for, Illidan... I provided you people, power and help to achieve your goals if you help me... And you didn't uphold your side of the bargain."

"You are nothing but a selfish little brat, I shouldn't have ever agreed to working with you..."

Kael smirked. "And what if I am? You still fell madly for me, Illidan..." He said, with that soft little voice he usually used to lull the other to sleep. With not a hint of venom or a bite, yet still piercing.

"You are a stupid child, Kael'thas... I can't believe I could've ever felt anything but distaste towards you." Illidan's own voice was strong and he himself was determined to not let the other elf get inside his head. "I should have known what kind of a person you are just based on Dath'remar being your ancestor..."

"Oh so now you're going to talk about my family? Do you want me to remind you about yours?" The bite was back in full force and Illidan could tell that he did touch a sensitive spot within the prince.

"Mine? There's nothing you could possibly dig up that could hurt me... I had years to mourn and years to accept... You did not have that luxury, have you, Kael? Tell me..." Illidan smiled and grabbed the blood elf by the chin, holding it up as to see into his eyes perfectly. "Do you miss your father?"

Kael stood there, unmoving for a moment, but his eyes couldn't lie.

"You miss him, don't you?" Illidan lightly stroke his cheek with his other hand. "He could have been here, do you know that? If you only weren't so selfish and actually were there with him..."

"Shut your foul mouth!" Kael took a step back, tripping and falling onto his couch. "You have no idea how all of that went down!"

"Oh but I know, little strider... I know... And do you know who told me?" Illidan took a few steps to the couch, placed his hands on Kael's shoulders and lowered his face to his. "You did..." He whispered. "You argued about how you know me but oh no, prince... I know you-"

"You don't know shit, demon!" He could feel his insides boiling when he attempted to slap Illidan, but the other's hand was noticibly faster.

"Oh... Do you wish for this to get physical? Do you really want your life to end that quickly, love?" He was holding the other's wrist. "I will crush every single one of the bones in your pretty body if you continue acting like a pest-"

"And I will kill you, Stormrage..." He reached his other hand up to Illidan's head and grabbed one of his horns, pulling it. "I will be the end of you..."

"What?" The demon hunter couldn't help but laugh. "Like you killed your own mother-?"

Kael's mouth opened, he was positively shocked. "H- How dare you say that!"

"How dare me? How dare you think you would be even remotely able to hurt me..." He straightened his back, pulling Kael up from the couch. "See... I won't kill you-"

"Because you are a coward!" The prince spat.

"A coward? No... I won't kill you, because making you watch the lives, of those you care so deeply about, shatter... That will be much better for the both of us..."

"What... What are you talking about?"

"I'll make you watch as your troops die on the battlefield... Slow, desperate and powerless without your much needed mana..." The demon hunter laughed. "As you will be shaking and begging for me to kill you..."

"You cannot do that!" Kael lost his grip on the horn and instead used that hand to try to set his wrist free. "You can't just imprison a prince, if you don't know that-"

"And just who is going to fight me to set you free?" He tightened his grip. "Noone will come looking for you... Noone will care, when I tell them you've betrayed them..."

Kael'thas' eyes widened. "You... Illidan... You- you wouldn't do that... Not to me-"

"Oh? You think I wouldn't? Just how I thought you wouldn't betray me?"

"I didn't mean to!" He cried. "Illidan I didn't- I might have- I might have fucked up, okay- but-"

"Oh... Lying to save your ass? Your father would not be proud of you doing that, would he?"

"He wouldn't be proud of a lot of things I had to do..." Kael stopped struggling against Illidan. "He would be disgusted if he saw that I joined forces with you... And he would be even more disgusted if he knew I fell in love with you..."

"You didn't, Kael'thas... You don't hurt people you love..."

"Then how come you got to hurt Tyrande?"

"I never hurt her-"

"Why do they call you the betrayer then? You betrayed the ones you love yet you still argue your actions were justified-"

"You know nothing-" Illidan shook his head and let go of the prince's wrist.

"I actually know a lot, darling..." He said, rubbing his wrist. "How come you get to hurt me but when I hurt you, it's not the same..."

"Because you are the one who-"

"-who betrayed you? I BARELY EVEN DID ANYTHING YET!"

"But you were planning to! I cannot forgive you for that! It's still treason!"

"I had my reasons just as much as you had yours all those years ago... You should be the one who understands me, not the one who threatens to ruin everything I fought for up until this point-"

"You want my understanding? After everything I've done for you, after everything I gave you- you still want more?"

"I just... I only want my people to know peace again..." Kael's voice broke slightly at the end of sentence. "I want to know peace again, Illidan... And I didn't see any other solution..."

"I was your solution, Kael'thas... I just couldn't only work in your best interest... Sometimes you have to put some things on hold..."

"But we don't have the time to be put on hold, Illidan... I am unwell and the more I fight in your name the worse I get- all of this is killing me and you don't want to help me... Yet you want to tell me I am the one betraying you? You're so incredibly dense-"

"I am trying, Kael'thas!"

"That's what I'm doing as well! Listen to me!"

"There was never a moment when I wouldn't be listening to you, love..."

"I know of so many moments like those, but of course, you are never the one to blame for anything..."

"That is untrue... I know of my wrongdoings and I am trying to correct them... Unlike you."

"Yes, Illidan... Because the only thing I am doing is surviving-"

#kael'thas sunstrider #kael'thas #world of warcraft #illidan stormrage #illidan #kaellidan #SPHERE FICS

[sammy431]

Restitution

This is technically a sequel to a short fic that can be found here, but can easily be a standalone. 

After an angry Orym and Imogen plead on behalf of Laudna’s life, the Hells prepare to a resurrection ritual. Success or fail, things will remain ever changing. 

Read on AO3 

Keyleth moved forward and set her hand gently on Laudna’s head as Vex left the room to gather the necessary diamond. “Three of you must offer something - words or a physical item - to help convince Laudna’s soul to return to this plane of existence. Which of you will do so?”

Orym was only dimly aware of Imogen and Ashton moving forward to stand with him, the sound of his own heartbeat was pounding in his ears, muffling everything. The grief, the guilt, the anger - everything blended together and some distant part of his brain wondered if he had finally snapped. He had never felt like this. 

He wondered if he had come back broken, like the universe had demanded balance for his life over Laudna’s and kept a piece of him behind. He felt so much that it was numbing. Orym avoided Keyleth’s gaze, knowing the Tempest could read him well after so many years. Her concern was typical, but nothing mattered but Laudna. 

Lady Vex’ahlia re-entered the room, a very large diamond already outstretched towards Keyleth. Her eyes darted towards Laudna and away again, some complicated emotion twisting her face into a grimace. “Are you ready?”

Keyleth nodded. “Yes. Who will speak first?” Her hands cupped the diamond over Laudna’s body, a soft green magic filling it and sending rainbows around the room. 

Imogen stepped forward immediately, grabbing Laudna’s hand with an almost feral desperation. “Laudna, please come back. I need you here - everything is too loud, too much. There’s an empty spot in my mind where you usually are, like a lullaby against the harsh world. Please... I love you. I can’t imagine life without your light in it. Come back to me.” 

After a moment, she looked up at Keyleth, unsure if it had been enough. At her gentle nod, Imogen stepped back and Ashton stepped forward. 

They stood awkwardly beside the table for a moment, then braced himself to lean over Launda’s body, staring intently at her closed eyes. “You and I had an understanding. We wanted the same thing for those we loved. You can’t leave me to take care of them alone. You get your ass back here and if that bitch is keeping you from us - remember what I said and break her fucking fingers.” 

Ashton stepped back, ignoring the curious looks he was getting from everyone, and pushed Orym forward. Orym didn’t move, unconsciously resisting with far more strength than he usually had. Ashton leaned over and looked into his eyes for a moment, seeming to search for something. Whether or not he found it, Orym wasn’t sure, but Ashton simply nodded. “That feeling? Use it.” 

Unsure of exactly how to do that, Orym nonetheless walked forward. The table was taller than him, but he simply walked up beside Laudna’s head and leaned up on his toes to whisper in her ear. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to hear his words anyway. 

“You need to come back Laudna. You were already brought back once to be some demon’s puppet, and you’ve been isolated for so long. You need to have a chance to live - a real chance, not one left up to a fucking coin flip. A chance that you control, that you choose. But you can choose now - I said once that you were the happiest of us all and this group isn’t the same without you. You’re the weird little glue that held us together and I’m not sure that we’ll ever work properly unless you come back... I know I won’t.” Orym paused, a hand reaching up to touch the cold metal of her ear cuffs. “Choose life for yourself this time.” 

He stepped back and reached up to grab Imogen’s hand, idly noticing that despite the white knuckled grip she grabbed back with, he couldn’t feel the crushing strength he knew existed. 

The group stood in tense silence as Keyleth concentrated and the room began to pulse with green light shining through the different facets of the diamond. The light grew to an almost unbearable brightness before splintering into thousands of small shining pieces of diamond shard and settling over Laudna’s form like a blanket before sinking into her pale body. 

For one terrifying moment, it looked as if the ritual had failed despite their efforts. Then, in the space between one second and the next, Laudna’s body came back to life. She contorted as if electrified, a harsh gasp forcing itself out of her throat, hands reaching up to grab at the place she had been stabbed. 

Imogen burst into tears and rushed forward, grabbing a confused Laudna into a tight hug. The rest of the Hells followed, jostling Orym as they passed by. Orym remained rooted to the spot, struggling to process anything beyond the mess of emotions swirling in his stomach, intense but somehow comforting. As he raised his eyes past the group, found that Keyleth was watching him still, eyebrows furrowed and emotions unknown swirling in her green eyes. 

                                                          ~~~

Laudna stretched her limbs out carefully, feeling stiffer than usual. She had been shown to a small guest room where she could wash and regain her bearings. Imogen insisted on remaining with her, and while she would never mind Imogen’s company, she was especially grateful for it now. 

Her eyes carefully avoided the windows as she pulled on clean clothes and rearranged her hair ribbons. If she didn’t look at it, perhaps the city they were in wouldn’t matter. 

She understood why they had gone to Whitestone - was grateful for it - but it was... strange. Even just being within the main castle building she felt haunted, as if she was being followed by the footsteps of the bright and thoroughly alive young woman that had walked in here 30 years ago. 

“Do you know where my other ear cuff is? Did it fall off during the battle?” Laudna wasn’t very self conscious, but the sight of her crudely pointed ears was one she would never get used to. The jagged edges and uneven cuts felt ugly in a way nothing else did. The cuffs were beautifully crafted and had cost her quite a bit of coin. 

Imogen unconsciously glanced at the uncovered ear and tried to suppress a flinch. “It might still be back in that room. Orym took it off at some point.” 

Laudna frowned. “Orym? Why would he do that?”

“He threw it at Lady de Rolo while she was trying to delay the resurrection ritual. Told her that she owed you.” 

Laudna wasn’t really sure what to say in response to that. She didn’t really think the new Lady of Whitestone owed her anything - she hadn’t killed her after all - but she decided to move forward. “Well no harm. I’m alive now. Or well, more alive than I was. Still sort of dead.” She smiled at Imogen. 

Imogen wasn’t feeling forgiving though. “It was ridiculous,” she scoffed, “the cost of the spell and the diamond is basically nothing to them, but they were still just pussy-footing about. I’m glad Orym did something before I did. Lots of pretty stained glass in this place, it would be a shame to break it.” 

Uncomfortable with how angry Imogen looked, Laudna reached out and grabbed one of her clenched fists in both of her hands. “Imogen, it's fine. I’m back and we’ll be back on the road tomorrow. I’m okay now.” 

“But you weren’t, Laudna. You were dead.” 

“Imogen-”

“No!” Imogen ripped her arm from Laudna, the feelings of the past couple of days spilling over. “You were dead Laudna, you died because of me! That bitch stabbed you and then when I... when I lost control, you were buried under a fucking building! All this power and what’s the use of it if I can’t even use it to help you? Hell, I might’ve been the one that killed you!” 

Sparks started flying from Imogen, bright red points of light and electricity that faded before they struck anything. Her purple hair started to lift in the air. Laudna backed up unconsciously, unsure what to do. Now that she could see a little clearer, the red streaks on Imogen’s arms had extended, crawling up to her throat and down to her hands and they pulsed an angry red, almost like an alarm blaring an emergency signal. 

“Imogen? Imogen, I’m okay. I’m right here.” 

“But you weren’t! You weren’t here Laudna!” A nearby mirror cracked and splintered and the room shuddered with power. “You weren’t here and the world was too loud, it was too loud and your mind wasn’t here!” A vase shattered and the sound finally seemed to snap Imogen out of her spiral. 

Her gaze swung from the vase, to the mirror, to Laudna who was nervously wringing her hands. Imogen’s shoulders drooped. “I-I’m sorry. I scared you.” 

Laudna’s voice was brittle and bright. “No, it’s alright! I just didn’t know what to do.” 

“Laudna.” Her eyes met Imogen’s, red lightning fading from the purple irises. “I scared you.” 

Laudna shrugged uncomfortably. She wasn’t afraid of Imogen, she would never be afraid of her, could never do that. But that power, it terrified Laudna sometimes. It seemed to take control of her best friend and feed off of her anger. Laudna was scared that one day, her Imogen wouldn’t come back. 

But she only said, “No no. I just. I wasn’t expecting how much more powerful you’d gotten. Feels like I’ve been gone longer than a few days.” A weak smile forced its way out, nearly pleading with Imogen to drop it. She didn’t want to fight. 

Imogen walked over to Laudna and gently pulled her to the bed, sitting down beside her. “When I saw you go down... I lost it. I don’t even really remember what happened, everything just went white. When I came back, all of the buildings were destroyed. Just turned into rubble. Fearne and Orym were dead, Chetney was hurt, and I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t hear you. And then I saw your hand,” Imogen squeezed the hand she was holding and Laudna felt a tear drip down onto her arm, “your hand was just sticking out from a pile of rocks.” 

“I’m here now Imogen. I’m alright.” 

She looked up, eyes bright with tears. “Are you? Cause you were dead Laudna. You were gone and I... I tried calling on Deliliah to help but she was too weak to do anything. Was she with you? Were you stuck with her?” 

Laudna shook her head, her hair brushing against her bare ear and sending shivers up her own spine, unconsciously squeezing Imogen’s hand for comfort. “No, she wasn’t. No one was with me, I wasn’t really anywhere I don’t think? I don’t remember anything but a quiet darkness until I heard your voice.” 

“Was it - I mean, it was peaceful?” 

“Very peaceful. Sort of like a nice dream.” 

Imogen was very still beside Laudna, and Laudna could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. “Would you have preferred that? I mean, you didn’t get that the first time and you didn’t have Deliliah. I didn’t even think of that, I just-” A cold finger pressed against Imogen’s lips, startling her, and she looked up at Laudna. 

“I very much prefer being alive. I have so many things I still want to see, we have so much to do!” She couldn’t leave Imogen before helping her have the life she should have, the brilliance she deserved. 

Relaxing, Imogen once again grabbed Laudna’s hand and brought it to her lap, squeezing it between hers. “Good. I don’t like who I am without you around. It was scary.”

“Fun scary?” 

A weak chuckle left Imogen as the adrenaline finally began to fade. “No Laudna, I’m no good at that. It was just scary scary.” 

“We’ll figure it out, Imogen. I promise.” 

There was more to talk about, but for now the two women simply enjoyed the feeling of sitting side by side. Imogen leaned into the cooler body of Laudna and let it wash through her, soothing the fiery electricity running through her body. Laudna pressed against Imogen’s left side and closed her eyes, pretending the warmth and heartbeat were her own for one more moment. 

                                                         ~~~

While the group waited for Laudna and Imogen to return, Vex invited them to explore the grounds, pointing out the training grounds, the temples, and the kitchen where a late lunch was waiting for them.

Waving off Ashton’s offer to go burn off energy in the training area, Orym wandered away from the group. He felt strangely tired, as if he had just finished an intense workout but the earlier emotional storm had finally faded. It was almost as if it had never happened and he wondered if it truly had or if it was simply how his grief had affected his mind so soon after his own revivify. 

Stuck in his mind, he failed to see the woman waiting for him as he circled around back to the Sun Tree. “Orym.” He jumped, turning to see Keyleth smiling down at him. 

He bowed low. “Tempest. Thank you for your help today, we could not have done this without you.” 

She sat down on one of the Sun Tree’s large roots and patted the space beside her, waiting for Orym to join her. “Oh I don’t know. That group of yours seems rather resourceful and very determined. I’m just happy to have helped. And Orym, I’m not your boss anymore - you can call me Keyleth.” She paused, fingers trailing down the rough bark of the tree and leaving a small trail of wildflowers in their wake. “Are you alright?” 

“Of course. We’ve had a stressful couple of days, I’m sure I wasn’t acting my best. I’m sorry if I offended Lady de Rolo.” He had a faint memory of throwing one of Laudna’s ear cuffs at her and internally winced. 

But Keyleth waved his words away, “No worries. You did what you felt was needed and you said nothing that was untrue. But I’ve never seen you so... cold. You were vibrating with energy but you looked almost empty.” Eyes that had seen their fair share of loss pinned him in place. “Even when we lost Derrig and Will, you were never like that. I know I’m no longer your boss, but I am still the Voice of the Tempest. I’m concerned about you, Orym.” 

Orym fought the urge to squirm like a child - something about the Tempest gaze always made feel like a fumbling teenager. But she had seen so much, perhaps she would have advice. “I don’t know if I can even describe it. But when you were debating about bringing Laudna back, all of the emotions just became so muddled it’s as if they transformed into pure energy. I wasn’t thinking, I was just acting.” His voice dropped into a whisper. “I felt out of control. I never want to feel like that again.” 

There was a long pause and Orym realized how used to the Bell’s Hells he’d gotten - there was rarely a moment of silence among them and he was no longer comfortable simply sitting in it. But Keyleth was clearly thinking and even if he was no longer technically her guard, his training would not let him rush her. 

Finally, she sighed, her staff drooping in her hand. “I do apologize if I was unclear. I would never have not at least tried for Laudna, I simply wanted you all to know that there was no guarantee. Having that kind of let down... it’s painful. But I can imagine my words were unwelcome no matter how delicately I tried to choose them and I apologize. I’ll apologize to young Imogen as well.” 

He tried to murmur some brush off, but she ignored him. “As for what you were feeling... I cannot say that it will never happen again. You feel deeply Orym, and you’ve felt a lot of pain for someone so young. But I will tell you what someone once told me when I was struggling with a similar feeling. It all comes down to one word - family. You need enough control so that you can use it to protect you and yours. Harness those feelings, that rage, and it can be a powerful tool in battle.” 

“But Derrig always stressed control in movement and thought. How can I be controlled and yet act before thinking?” 

“I know it goes against what you know and how you learned, but sometimes life gives you skills you never asked for. If you don’t learn to use it, it’ll use you.” She paused again, thinking carefully. “I believe the genasi in your group, Ashton, would know something about that kind of concentrated energy. Perhaps you should ask them?” 

Orym had a vague memory of Ashton saying something to him during the resurrection ritual, but couldn’t seem to grasp what was said. He nodded, “I’ll ask him. Thank you Tempest.” She gave him a mildly reproachful look and he smiled cheekily up at her. “Keyleth.” 

She laughed and shoved herself up to her feet. “Good. I’ll always be around if you need advice, but you’ve got a good group. I think you’ll be just fine. Shall we go find some food?” 

Orym slid off the thick root and landed light on his feet, walking by her side back up to the castle. He needed to talk to Laudna, make sure they were alright, but that could wait until they left the city. For now, food and company sounded like the perfect way to end the day. 

                                                         ~~~

The sun had steadily moved across the sky as Laudna and Imogen sat in comfortable silence, content to enjoy the other’s presence. As the sun began to dip down behind the massive mountains that surrounded the city, a knock at the door jolted the pair out of their peace. 

“Come in!” Imogen called, assuming it was one of the Hells coming to collect them. But as the door swung open, her hand tightened on Laudna’s as she stiffened. 

Lady Vex’ahlia stepped in the room, holding something in her hand. “I apologize if I’m intruding. But everyone is beginning to gather for dinner and I wanted to return something to Laudna beforehand.” Her hand opened and the missing ear cuff sat neatly within it. 

Imogen glanced at Laudna, but as she appeared to be struck silent by the sight of the new Lady de Rolo, Imogen took control without thinking. “I’ll take it. We’ll be down in a few minutes, thank you.” She wanted the older woman out of the room - wanted to be out of this city - but knew the group needed a break and the Tempest needed to rest before returning them back to Jrusar. 

Lady Vex’ahlia closed her fist again, eyes on Laudna. “I would like to speak with you, Laudna. If that would be alright.” 

“Absolutely not.” The words were out of Imogen’s mouth before she had thought them. As the older woman’s eyes flicked to her, she hurried to smooth things over. “Anything you want to say to Laudna you can say in front of me.” 

But Lady Vex’ahlia simply looked back at Laudna once more. “Laudna, may I speak to you? I would prefer it to be alone, but I want you to be comfortable. 

Imogen felt a warm wash of anger wash over her at the woman’s audacity, but before she could open her mouth again, she felt a cool hand on her arm. She turned towards the dark eyes that she had silently thought of as home for so long and knew what Laudna was going to say before she said it, and felt her shoulders drop. “It’s alright Imogen. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

Imogen nodded and glared at the Lady de Rolo in warning as she made her way out of the room, the uncomfortable feeling of being left out prickling over her skin and causing the door to slam shut harder than she’d intended. 

Before the silence had a chance to become uncomfortable, Lady de Rolo took control of the situation, walking forward and holding Laudna’s ear cuff out. “Before anything else, I believe this belongs to you.” 

Laudna slowly took it, careful not to touch her hand - she knew most people found her cool skin uncomfortable. “Thank you, ah, Lady de Rolo.” 

“Call me Vex, please.” 

“Vex, okay.” Laudna glanced at the ear cuff in her hand and then nervously back up at Vex. She wanted to put it on right away, but her ear was currently covered by her hair and she really did not want Vex to see it again. 

Before she could even begin to think about asking, Vex seemed to understand and turned around, walking towards the broken vase. “This was a rather ugly vase, so I can’t say I’m sad to see it gone. May I ask what happened?” 

Laudna quickly moved to slide her ear cuff back on, feeling far less vulnerable as soon as the sensitive nerve endings were protected. “Just an accident Lady- Vex. I’m rather clumsy on a good day.” She didn’t think that Vex was like the other Lady of Whitestone, but she’d been wrong before. She wouldn’t let Imogen be blamed. 

“Not a problem. Like I said, quite the eyesore. An old family heirloom that my husband felt he had to use somewhere and I refused to have it in our living quarters.” Vex glanced over her shoulder, and upon seeing that Laudna was finished, turned the full force of her smile directly towards her. 

Laudna wasn’t sure what to do. What exactly was the protocol for meeting the new Lady of Whitestone when the former one had killed you as a message to the woman standing in front of you? Laudna didn’t think that any of the etiquette books she’d perused over the years would have anything to help her right now. 

While she was busy wondering what the hell one should do in this situation, Vex had picked herself up from where she was brushing the pieces of the vase together and walked back over to Laudna, stopping a few feet from her. Blue eyes ran over Laudna’s features, perhaps trying to see what had caught the attention of the Briarwoods. Laudna could feel the pressure from the rope tightening on her neck and resisted the urge to cover it with her hand. 

“Your friend, Orym, he said that I owed you. That you were killed for me, if not by me.” 

“No no, you didn’t do anything, you couldn’t have-” 

Vex raised a hand softly, cutting off Laudna’s rush of words. “It’s alright. He was correct. You lost your life because the former occupants of this castle were homicidal and cruel and wished to warn us away. Perhaps I wasn’t at fault, but that doesn’t mean I cannot feel a certain indebtedness to you, for what you lost.” 

“I don’t want your pity.” Voice thick with some emotion - perhaps even tears - Laudna flinched away from the thought. It was bad enough to be standing in front of the effortlessly elegant Lady Vex’ahlia while acutely aware of the cold metal covering her ears, she didn’t want the woman to think of her as a charity case. 

But Vex shook her head. “There is a difference between pity and sympathy. Perhaps even some empathy. Your life was taken from you, your family taken from you, your freedom taken from you. When I was young, my brother and I were taken from our mothers house and raised in a city that hated us. When we returned home, our mother and home had been burned, killed by a dragon. While I cannot truly imagine your pain, I can feel something for you that is not pity.” 

“Well,” Laudna shuffled her feet, still not comfortable with the attention, “you’ve repaid any debt you may feel. Thank you for helping my friends - and me, of course.” 

“I’m not sure that I’ll ever truly feel like that’s a debt that can be paid, but I’ll leave that under your control. Should you need help in the future, myself or my husband will aid you.” Vex paused, glancing out the window where the Sun Tree stood silhouetted against the setting sun. “We buried the other bodies when we could, treated them with dignity in death the way they weren’t afforded in life.”

Her eyes returned to Laudna’s, intense and reflecting the sun in a strangely fire-like way. “You are alive and I promise that as long as breath remains in my body or in yours, you will have an ally in Whitestone if you want it.” She smiled, breaking the intensity that had settled around them. “Though I love the city as my home, I understand why you are probably ready to leave. Shall we go join the others for dinner so that you may all find your beds sooner?” 

Nodding with relief, Laudna followed the woman out of the room, feeling some strange reassurance. Though they may look somewhat similar, they were nothing alike in personality. Laudna hadn’t realized she had been afraid of the possibility, but she felt steadier on her feet knowing that she wasn’t just some copy of Vex’ahlia. 

She was Laudna, formerly of Whitestone, and she was going to take her second second chance and travel far with it.

#critical role #cr spoilers #laudna #imodna #imogen temult #orym of the air ashari #bells hells #keyleth #vex'ahlia #cr fic

[camelliagwerm]

how do you come up with names for your ocs? I always struggle with them

Generally it depends on what sort of setting I'm going for, but my general rule of thumb is to research the setting first and go researching names based on what certain places are inspired by. I want them to feel like they fit in with the setting first and foremost.

For example, for Pathfinder there is a pretty robust name generator that covers all the human ethnicities plus a few other heritages (elves, dwarves, half-orcs, halflings, gnomes and kitsune) and I start it from there. Both Valerius and Luminița got their names through the Varisian name generator as Ustalavic humans are predominantly ethnically Varisian, for example.

Leonelle is an outlier in that regard as her name has been carried over from numerous settings, however both of her names do have roots in some Gothic fiction; reading other books can be a great source for names, honestly. In Leonelle's case: Leonelle comes from Leonella, which is a name I first came across when I was reading the Monk by Matthew Lewis for my undergraduate dissertation (ironically, Leonella was a spinster aunt - but I've always liked the name), and Montoni comes from the villain of Ann Radcliffe's the Mysteries of Udolpho. I wasn't so much thinking of her when selecting that name as I was her father - Montoni was a cruel, violent man and it had a nice ring to it with the title of Cardinal. (I should also note that my headcanon for Cheliax comes from a comment I saw about it being "imagine if the Borgias still ran everything and the church worshipped Satan instead" and it literally hasn't left my brain since.)

For Dura, I looked at UESP for naming conventions and the examples of Orsimer names in the Elder Scrolls. Their full name is Nazdura gor-Khazor - the first name comes from ESO and the surname (without the prefix) comes from Morrowind. I added the appropriate prefix (gor-) afterwards. I think this combination can work as it would give you a lore friendly name without it being identical to any NPCs you're likely to come across. At least with shortening it to Dura, it feels slightly more 'unique'.

In some cases, I'll also draw from mythology - I have a little bit of a soft spot for Norse mythology, reinvigorated thanks to the more recent God of War games, and both Magni and Hrist - my cleric for Icewind Dale - got their names from Norse mythology. Magni at least also sounds like it might fit in with Orzammar's noble caste, while Hrist felt like an apt choice of a tempest domain cleric without going too obvious (e.g. Thrúd)

The only name I genuinely couldn't tell you where I got it from is Azren, my Bhaalspawn's name. And even then, I'm not sure if I'm sold on it because I'm constantly debating whether I want him to remain a half-orc barbarian, a human dark moon monk or a human oathbreaker paladin.

#anonymous #answered