#cannot figure out these keep disappearing from the tags

[butterflydm]

wot reread: lord of chaos (chap 47-end)

For the first time, this book isn’t better than the one before it imo. I would currently rank them (strongest to weakest): The Fires of Heaven; Lord of Chaos; The Shadow Rising; The Dragon Reborn; The Great Hunt; Eye of the World. I’m not sure if any of the remaining books will be able to top TFoH for me tbh. We will find out!

spoilers for lord of chaos

1. Elayne tries to demand (in an icily royal way) that Mat lend her his ter’angreal against channeling each night so that she may study it. Mat pretends to be ignorant of anything she’s talking about to the point of driving her to complete frustration. Annoyed at him, and potentially trying to teach him ‘manners’ like she bragged to Egwene that she would, she inspects his men’s horses and gives him her opinions on how well he’s done, as if he were one of her men.

2. Important future note about Ebou Dar culture: “a woman killing a man was considered justified unless it was proven differently”. It’s also a culture that’s very big on dueling.

3. Anyway, for all that Mat has a lot of random gender essentialist thoughts (like pretty much everyone else, though his tend to come with more insults and colorful language) he doesn’t see any reason why Birgitte can’t be a Warder, which puts him one up on pretty much every Aes Sedai who meets her.

4. The Aes Sedai also start channeling at him (presumably trying to study the effects of the medallion since he won’t let them borrow it). On the fourth day, they figure out that they can use the Power to make other things hit him. Super classy, guys. After that happens, Mat goes and drinks until he can’t stand up (because the thing that he was using for protection has a loophole that makes it less effective). This is honestly such a shitty thing for them to be doing to him. (we find out in the next chapter that Adelas and Vandene were the ones doing all the channeling and, wow, it would have done wonders for Elayne and Nynaeve’s relationship with Mat if they had... you know, told him that, but I guess Aes Sedai secrecy/solidarity is why they did not)

5. I admit that Ebou Dar does sound like a beautiful city. Not wanting to stay in the palace (good instincts!) Mat picks an inn at random -- the Wandering Woman, run by a woman named Setalle Anan. And the dice in his head stop. I really wish he would pay more attention to this sort of thing, tbh, the dice and his luck. He always ends up regretting it later that he didn’t (or, rather, he always ends up going through regrettable things because he didn’t). I’m actually going to mark this as another potential place for an AU and see how well it maps out if Mat had listened to his magical intuition here.

6. Nynaeve and Elayne are frustrated because, despite Egwene raising them to full sisters, Vandene, Adelas, and the Aes Sedai here in Ebou Dar are all still treating them like Accepted. Ah, now that Elayne is officially Aes Sedai, she’s introducing Birgitte as her Warder to everyone. And we learn that the reason that Adelas and Vandene came to Ebou Dar was to look for “runaways” though Elayne and Nynaeve do not know more than that. Aviendha was amused by Mat before but has now decided that he’s ‘irritating’; that would be Nynaeve and Elayne’s influence, I assume. Ah, and we learn that Egwene had a ‘discussion’ with Birgitte and learned the truth about her.

7. Elayne and Nynaeve go off to meet Queen Tylin, while Birgitte and Aviendha start their search of the city. Also, as of this point in the books, Nynaeve is twenty-six and Elayne is eighteen. We learn that Elaida has sent an ‘embassy’ to Ebou Dar as well, with two Sisters -- Teslyn and Joline. And the Whitecloaks also have an embassy here, led by Carridin, who Nynaeve and Elayne remember from Tanchico.

8. After Tylin tells them two of them how perilous things are for her here, Elayne tells Tylin all about their search for a ter’angreal to fix the weather. Tylin gets more instant trust than almost any other character in the series! Nynaeve is as startled as I am, at least. Elayne did it out of queenly solidarity, it seems. “I know how my mother felt about Aes Sedai traveling about Andor, never letting her know what they were doing.” Elayne also bets Nynaeve that she can have Mat “knuckling his forehead” for her within ten days, and Nynaeve takes the bet. There’s nothing riding on the bet tho.

9. Min “brought up” her viewing about Perrin needing to stay next to Rand to save him twice in front of Perrin and Rand wishes that she hadn’t; he really wants Perrin to go to Tear to be the visible face of Rand’s distraction army but now that Perrin knows about Min’s viewing, he won’t agree to do it. But Perrin didn’t want to go to Tear even before he heard about Min’s viewing, so *shrug*. Perrin says “what I want hasn’t seemed to count much since the first time we saw Moiraine” like he didn’t just go on an entire side quest of his own even while his ta’veren sense was saying that he should stay with Rand.

10. Loial is back and he and Rand catch up a little. Rand lets him know that his mother, Elder Haman, and Erith are now in the Two Rivers, where Rand thought Loial was. Loial is in a panic over it, since he’s not ready to get married and settle down in a Stedding. When Rand suggest that maybe Loial can talk to the Elders of the various Steddings so that he can put guards on all the Waygates, Perrin  blows up on Rand, telling him that he’ll use anyone. Rand agrees but points out that he’s willing to use himself up as well.

11. Min arrives, frantic, to tell him that seven Aes Sedai are coming from the embassy (Rand has forbidden more than three at a time to enter the Inner City). She also punches him in this scene hard enough that she “made him grunt”. She’s spending way too much time with Faile. Can we just have ONE relationship without casual violence being a part of it? But because of Min’s warning, he is able to meet the Aes Sedai somewhat prepared (though very on edge due to Min’s viewing about Aes Sedai hurting him at some point in the future).

12. Demira speaks for the group and tells Rand that they have decided his restrictions for them are null and void; they will no longer follow them. Lews Therin is panicking in his head and argues that the situation is too dangerous and they need to strike first.

13. When Min gets back to the inn, she sees that two more Aes Sedai have arrived - Bera and Kiruna, the two that had been sent to the Aiel Waste to try to chase Rand so long enough. Which means there are now thirteen Sisters in Caemlyn, which is the number that Rand/LTT says means anyone, no matter how strong in the Power, would be helpless in front of. Panicked again, Min immediately leaves the inn to inform Rand. Bera and Kiruna both talk about how Rand must be “leashed” and “brought to heel”. And Min says that she’s sure these thirteen will hurt him; she’s talking out of her panic but Rand assumes it’s one of her ‘senses of absolute knowing’ that she gets about her viewings sometimes. And his flight here pretty much directly leads to him ending up in The Box (though I don’t think he ever thinks that through and asks Min to stop giving him vague ominous warnings about the future; but this does seem like a clear example of a self-fulfilling prophecy, where Min telling Rand about the viewing helped make it happen). Even without Min’s warning, he still might have panicked and fled, but it’s clear that his fear is considerably amped up by her viewing.

14. Rand tells Min that she will come with him for now but he will send her out of danger if it comes down to facing the Aes Sedai. She brandishes her daggers and refuses the idea. Brave but foolish, considering she has zero defenses against Aes Sedai (or Warders tbh; she’s spent a couple of months practicing daggers with Thom and that’s it; she would be dead in two seconds). He also collects Perrin and Faile to warn them. re: Perrin “he could not leave Perrin behind, and not because of any viewing; when Merana found Rand gone, one of them might well bond Perrin the way Alanna had him”.

15. So Rand is leaving for Cairhien with Min, Perrin, Faile, Loial, Gaul, Chiad, Bain, and Nandera with five hundred Maidens. I wonder if Chiad, Bain, and Gaul all feel like they don’t really fit in anymore due to having missed all the changes in Aiel society while they were in the Two Rivers. Sulin declares that she is coming as well. Everyone writes letters to leave to people, and the plot relevant ones are that Perrin tells the Two Rivers men to follow them to Cairhien, and Rand writes a warning to Taim about thirteen Aes Sedai and then a very harsh warning letter to Merana that he is going to Cairhien and she is allowed to follow with herself and no more than five other sisters, so that their embassy matches Elaida’s there. And Bera and Kiruna take firm control of the embassy.

16. Because it’s narratively convenient for Min’s presence never to be questioned by anyone from this point forward, the Wise Ones easily accept her as one of their own. Once I started noticing How Easy the narrative makes things for Min in her pursuit of Rand, it’s hard for me to stop noticing it lol. The Maidens let her walk in on Rand in his bath and wherever else she wants; the Wise Ones accept her as one of their own much more easily that we’ve seen them do with anyone else; no one expects her to become Aviendha’s first-sister and go through all the required trials before being romantic with Rand. She doesn’t need to try to adapt to Aiel culture in the slightest (as Elayne does), as all the Aiel are willing to bend over backwards for her instead, which is just... completely counter to how they behave in pretty much every other situation. All the obstacles that Elayne and Aviendha face in trying to be with Rand are completely non-existent for Rand and Min. But a big thing that draws me to pairings is their ability to OVERCOME those obstacles, so that’s probably a large part of why Rand x Min didn’t ever appeal to me as much as Rand x Elayne (dealing with conflicting duties) or Rand x Aviendha (dealing with differing cultural expectations). I have a hard time getting attached to pairings where the way for them is smoothed by the narrative, lol. I guess the ‘conflict’ in Rand x Min is supposed to be over which one of them cracks first and admits out loud that all the snuggling and kissing and teasing is a romantic relationship?

17. Oh. I almost forgot -- in addition to the paranoia and recklessness, Rand is also becoming more susceptible to flattery, because we learn that he does now believe Alviarin’s letter from the end of TFoH - he talks earlier about there being a faction of Aes Sedai ready to bend knee to him. So that’s three dangerous influences on his mental state. Plus he doesn’t eat or sleep enough and has Vaguely Ominous Warnings to deal with.

18. Rand is trying to figure out how to have Min around without revealing that she matters to him to the people around him who might take advantage of it. Rand notes that he’s more ill-tempered when she’s not around but that even she can’t pull him out of his depressions. The temper thing is ‘told’ here in the internal narration about Min, but we’ve actually seen it in action before with Elayne -- when Egwene accidentally riled up his temper at the start of TSR, Elayne talking to him cooled him down. Just her presence was soothing, iirc. So I assume that a similar thing is happening here.

19. Rand is still very attracted to Berelain (everyone is more horny in these later books) but is now blaming that all on LTT. So that’s getting worse, too, because earlier in the book, he was able to admit that he was the one who found Berelain attractive but now it’s Lews Therin who finds her attractive. And Min joins the group we like to call ‘All Wetlander Women Hate Berelain’. *annoyed sigh*

20. Even though Rand and Perrin have now both been in Cairhien together for ten days, that catch-up session that happened that first day with them hasn’t repeated and they have not been spending much time together, with Perrin blaming it on Rand being busy. This friendship is so casual and low-key compared to the intense... thing that Rand and Mat have going on, and it makes me sad all over again that Mat has left.

21. The Berelain-Faile nonsense has started and I am not going to waste my time talking about it. I will say this and only this, because it’s both the first and last thing that matters in this pointless storyline: “Berelain knew he was married, knew he loved his wife, and that should have been that” (especially since we already know from an earlier Min viewing that Berelain is going to fall in love with someone else later, so Berelain desperately chasing after a married man is EVEN MORE ridiculous than it might otherwise be). Wait. I will also point out that Berelain laughing and ignoring Perrin’s wishes that she stop being overly flirty with him is exactly what Min is doing in her “wear Rand down into admitting he wants to sleep with me” campaign. Now I’m done with the subject. Oh, wait, also go to AO3 and check out @lesbiancytherea‘s Berelain/Faile fic: The woman I have always desired to be mine.

22. Ah, yeah, and the whole reason that Rand is bothering to meet with Elaida’s delegation at all (when he gets taken) is because he’s trying to ‘even out’ the audiences that he had with the Salidar delegation. This is still all based on his panicked flight out of Caemlyn. And LTT keeps talking about needing to take care of Sammael but Demandred first. He sees the Aes Sedai alone because he’s been taking more and more risks even as he’s been getting more and more paranoid (it’s been stressing me out all book), and they’ve snuck their secret Aes Sedai sisters (too young to get the distinctive look) into the room, to shield him and take him. Galina takes over the embassy and the Red Ajah is in charge. Captive in that noble’s house, Rand has started to sink into a gray depression. But, yeah, remember way back when Aviendha made the Maidens promise to tell her all of Rand’s comings and goings and I said that just sounded like it would make Rand start to sneak off without his guards? Nandera tells us that he’s been doing just that. So that’s why the Maidens aren’t on instant high alert.

23 Wait... I’m kinda curious now what bizarre nonsensical way that Min is going to end up with Rand here, since she wasn’t with him when he was taken. For some reason, I’ve remembered (incorrectly) all this time that she was with him and that’s why she was taken along as well.  lol, she “vanished” between the tents and the palace, we are told by Sorilea. Okay, my guess before I get to the chapter with the real reason: one of the Tower Aes Sedai randomly saw her in the streets and recognized her as fortune-telling Min and so she has conveniently been kidnapped along with Rand?

24. Mat has grown used to being called “Lord Cauthon”. It makes things easier in Ebou Dar, he thinks. Fewer challenges to duels. Ah, they are having Olver ‘pick up’ shameless flirting from Mat in this book, but it’s confined to “beautiful eyes” here. And even that much, Mat disapproves of him doing. And it’s fine for there to be ‘grown-up things’ that kids aren’t allowed to do? Mat isn’t evil for flirting with women while being In The Presence Of A Child.

25. As they search the endless streets and buildings, Elayne and Birgitte see a ‘Domani wilder’ healing someone. A Clue but they’re focused on their search, so they let it pass them by. And Elayne and Birgitte also spot Mat and Nalesean, who have been drawn to the correct spot at a useful time by Mat’s luck, but Elayne and Birgitte are trying to avoid them, so they hurry along. Because in their PoV, Mat is only here to get him out of Egwene’s way, not to actually be useful. Maybe this would be a better jumping off point for an AU than the earlier one I was thinking of. Marking it for later. (if anyone could literally walk into the correct building by accident...)

26. We do get the interesting mirroring here of the Salidar Aes Sedai keeping Logain under a shield even as the Tower’s Aes Sedai are keeping Rand under one. And this all reminds me of the excellent Logain scenes that we got in S1 of the show. Looking forward to more Logain, definitely. Egwene is trying to get Logain’s thoughts on Rand, the amnesty, and the madness. Egwene is startled when Logain angrily bursts out that of course he wishes “I were with [Rand] now!”

27. Egwene meets up with Elayne and Nynaeve in TAR. We learn here that Egwene HAS talked with the Aiel dreamwalkers (well, Bair and Melaine) and they told her that you can only use need to find a specific thing once (’like trying to eat the same apple twice’). Egwene notes (internally) that the dreamwalkers might be happy to teach her but they are telling her nothing about Rand anymore and have gotten very sour on the topic of Aes Sedai in general. For the first time in ages, Nynaeve stays alone in TAR to talk to Egwene, so that she can ask if there’s any news about Lan (there is not).

28. Because she’s realized that the Hall is going to vote to gentle Logain, Egwene’s arranged to secretly have him freed.

29. Elsewhere in the camp, Lan arrives and Myrelle is waiting to meet him. We’re told that this (like Alanna’s forced bonding of Rand) is also considered awful and out-of-bounds, passing a Warder’s bond along to another Aes Sedai without his permission. Ugh, the way she thinks about him here: “a wolfhound mourning his dead mistress did not come to a new mistress willingly”. So she compels him to obey (which is what Alanna has tried and failed to do with Rand).

30. Back in Perrin’s PoV, Rand has been missing six days. Min is also missing. “he could feel Rand’s need like an itch everywhere under his skin”. Yeah, much less evocative and coded romantic than how Mat described it, lol. We also learn here that the Aes Sedai left three days ago, so Rand is three days out from Cairhien and heading towards the White Tower. They find out that Rand is truly missing from two people: Lord Dobraine has come to warn them about two Lords being murdered and Lady Colavaere doing some suspiciously political dinners; and Belelain has found Rand’s sword and Dragon belt buckle, left behind. Sulin INSTANTLY realizes upon seeing Aviendha’s two gifts to Rand that this means he has been stolen away and has not left of his own accord and she calls him her “first-brother”. The privacy thing I will always have issues with, but they really do love him so much. She is DONE with being a servant, she must SAVE HER BROTHER. Also, we can count Dobraine as very firmly Rand’s man.

31. lol “Perrin liked to think things through; when you were hasty, you could hurt people without meaning to”. Perrin really is just as self-deceiving as Mat or Nynaeve, I swear. He manages to think this literally moments after he has flown off the handle to scream at Berelain for simply entering the room. I actually have some thoughts maybe about how all three of the guys’ plotlines are representing PTSD, but I feel like that meta has probably been written years ago lol.

32. Yes, Min has been captured by Galina. We aren’t told who/how they took her, but apparently her knife skills weren’t as up to the task as she thought they would be when she was showing off to Rand earlier in the book; the fact that Jordan doesn’t even bother to tell us how she was captured does kinda make me laugh. And it is because Galina apparently recognized her from when she was hanging out with Nynaeve and Egwene, and knows they’re connected to Rand, of course, and now she’s hanging out in the same city as Rand so, you know, clear connection there. When Rand saw that Min was there in the camp, he went so wild with rage that he killed one Warder directly and another one died from the shock of being Healed. There are 39 total Aes Sedai in the group that is holding Rand captive. Rand’s treatment at the hands of the Tower Aes Sedai in this section really is truly horrific. Each blow that they hit against him firms his resolve to never trust another Aes Sedai. It is in Rand’s PoV that we learn that Sevanna and the Shaido Wise Ones are hanging out with this group (though we saw the bargain being made earlier in the book).

33. But, yeah, Min being here really does make me very ??? at why she’s exempt from being protected from Rand’s danger-aura in the future by being send away from him. Being close to him literally got her kidnapped; she was targeted exactly the way he was afraid that Elayne or Aviendha or the Two Rivers would be if he let people see that he cared about them.

34. Rand has another two-way conversation with Lews Therin, and he asks if they can work together. After a moment, LTT agrees. Rand tries to plan out a way to pretend to be broken so that they will stop holding him so hard, so that they will tie off the weave that’s shielding him instead of maintaining it. Galina’s goal for Rand: “when she brought him to the White Tower, he would kiss Elaida’s ring, speak when spoken to and kneel in the corner when he was not wanted”. She wants him to be damane, essentially.

35. ALL of the Maidens wanted to come, but got restricted to a thousand, as every Maiden leaving the city would make it very very obvious to the Aiel that Rand was in grave danger. There are also five-thousand other Aiel, ninety-four Wise Ones (”the strongest in the One Power near the city”; and ALL of the Wise Ones wanted to come as well, but they only let the strongest come. And Sorilea), five hundred of Lord Dobraine’s men, and two hundred of Berelain’s.

36. And when they rest for the night, Perrin calls out for the wolves to come and help them rescue Rand. Just as Mat reached a peak of a kind in this book (he’s very firmly Rand’s general, and loyal to him); so does Perrin, in being able to take command here to lead the rescue to save Rand without second-guessing himself or his willingness to lead. Which uh, makes it unfortunate that there are so many books remaining, because there’s only one direction for them to go.

37. I love the evocative descriptions of the wolves’ names. Gorgeous imagery. “Two Moons was really a night-shrouded pool, smooth as ice in the instant before the breeze stirred, with a tang of autumn in the air, and one moon hanging full in the sky and another reflected so perfectly in the water that it was difficult to tell which was real”. We also learn here that wolves can sense channelers. And the wolves are PISSED when they learn that Rand (”Shadowkiller”) has been caged and the word is passed around from pack to pack and “several hundred” are coming to help.

38. So, with the siswai’aman, we learn from Perrin’s smell-o-vision that they are jealous of the Maidens, while the Maidens are possessive of what they have -- obviously, this is about their connection to Rand, though Perrin doesn’t realize that. They are all devoted enough to Rand to be willing to fight Aes Sedai in order to try to save him, which most of the Aiel are not willing to do.

39. Seven days into chasing after Rand (so Rand has been captive 13 days total), Perrin learns (via the wolves) that they’re running into the Two Rivers’ men. Honestly, it actually kinda annoys me that Perrin did not bring Tam or even tell him Rand needed him (because he knew from the start that Rand was ‘tugging’ him away into his duties)? That’s his son. He doesn’t even know that Rand is the Dragon Reborn! Anyway, Verin and Alanna are here, as well as seven others, so three more than the six that Rand said were allowed to follow him to Cairhien.

40. So now three hundred Two Rivers archers, nine Aes Sedai, and sixteen Warders have been added to the army. So, if I were writing this in a way to make it so that more characters could rescue Rand... Perrin would be coming with the archers, and you would have Mat with this main army here (and the Band), marching from Cairhien. Can’t think of any easy way for Egwene, Nynaeve, or Elayne/Aviendha to be there though. It would need to be BEFORE Mat was sent to try to get Elayne to go to Caemlyn. But, of course, any changes here would depend on earlier changes as well, which I can’t predict. If Elayne and Nynaeve aren’t at Salidar at this point, then they could potentially end up in Cairhien or Caemlyn and thus go along. Though it probably wouldn’t make narrative sense for Egwene to be present, since she and Rand are supposed to be pulling apart at this point. Again, depending on how the storyline is going.

41. lol, yep, Gawyn will Technically Keep His Word to Egwene by not physically raising a hand against Rand personally, but not keep the spirit of his word, since he is helping to enable great harm to happen to Rand and is very aware Egwene would not be thrilled. Once again, Gawyn straddles that fence between two sides and tries to help both and neither at the same time.

42. Rand has been memorizing each woman that has taken her turn at beating him. Galina, Erian, and Katerine are the three that have done so more than once. He’s still desperately feeling along the shield and hoping that they will tie it off instead of holding it.

43. Pretty much all of Perrin’s allies all hate each other -- but they are all determined to save Rand, even if they die in the effort. Why doesn’t Perrin understand why the Aes Sedai have to go into the battle in order to fight? He was with Alanna and Verin and I’m sure they told him that they actually need to be threatened in order to help? Didn’t they? Maybe they didn’t, since they were fighting Shadowspawn. Hmm. The battle itself is pretty good -- it doesn’t go into too much gory detail but we get enough of what is happening to understand the story of the battle.

44. Taim and the Asha’man arrive via Gateways and level the playing field against the Tower Aes Sedai and the Shaido. That is... convenient timing. But we’ll see if Taim says how he knew to come.

45. As the battle rages, four of the Aes Sedai holding him have to tie off their part of the shield to join the battle, leaving only two actively holding on. He unravels three of the knots -- another Sister starts actively holding again, but he is able to burst through the shield of the three Sisters holding him before they can bring someone else into the shield to hold him. Min is magically unharmed by the chest exploding to free him because of course she is. Rand stilled all three of the Sisters who were still holding onto the shield when Rand blew it apart. Anyway, Rand promises to protect Min and she’s officially his Damsel Figure now, I guess, and the Damsel-fication of Min that has been slowly occurring over the course of the last couple of books is feels like it’s starting to reach Peak Damsel. Will this be her exemption clause out of his general “must keep everyone I care about far away from me if possible” attitude, because helpless damsels can’t be allowed to wander around on their own lest they tragically die as they are wont to do? I guess I will find out.

46. Rand starts picking out the Tower Aes Sedai and shielding them. When “Lews Therin” thinks that he wanted Erian, Katerine, and Galina ‘especially’, Rand denies that the thought could have come from him, despite the fact that it obviously did. He takes down Sister after Sister, but doesn’t see Galina (though he did get Erian and Katerine).

47. Rand and Gawyn are briefly confronted with each other; Gawyn asks Min to come with him to safety, she refuses and tells him that Elayne loves Rand. Gawyn leaves, swearing that one day he will see Rand die.

48. Ah, Taim says they were able to show up because he had “reason to be in Cairhien”. That is... very thin, but Rand isn’t really in a state of mind to challenge it. Taim offers to heal him and Rand refuses, thinking that if Taim touches him with the Power, however innocently, Rand won’t be able to stop himself from killing him.

49. When Rand sees Perrin arrive, he has to stop himself from looking around to see if Mat is there too. Oh, buddy, I wish he were.

50. When the Salidar Aes Sedai come to Rand, to try to tell him about rescuing him, he orders them to join the Tower Aes Sedai. They also disobeyed his commands -- they brought nine Sisters when he said to bring six -- and he has absolutely zero trust left for any Aes Sedai at the moment in time. So he orders them to kneel, and Taim enforces it. It’s a big contrast to the triumphant (with warning tones) ending of TFoH -- this is somber and ominous. Technically, Rand has won... after being caged and beaten nearly two weeks, after watching a horrific slaughter (which feels probably like an illusion to the invention of modern guns being able to cause carnage on the battlefield?). The Aes Sedai kneel and swear to Rand (I will note that Rand’s aversion IS limited to Aes Sedai and not female channelers in general; this event doesn’t make him start mistrusting the Wise Ones, for example).

51. In the epilogue, Rand’s philosopher friend is killed, conveniently creating a ‘job opening’ for the next book for Rand to get a ‘new’ philosopher ‘friend’. I actually did like Herid, though I disliked him being yet another Old Dude who is super into Girls Young Enough To Be His Granddaughter, like Thom was in TDR/TSR (though luckily Thom... grew out of it? before Elayne’s inexplicable crush on him).

52. Aran’gar frees Moghedien and Egwene wonders if Logain did it. Anyway, Moghedien has been summoned to Shayol Ghul. Right now in SG, the Great Lord is praising Demandred for “doing well” at “letting the lord of chaos rule”, which sadly is a tiny scene that makes no sense after the upcoming change to Demandred’s plot/location lol. Oh well. And the book ends on the Dark One laughing.

So, LoC is a pretty good book but I would not say it’s as good at TFoH. Better than TSR though (Perrin and Faile keep TSR from being better than LoC, I would say). In TFoH, any issues I had were super-minor and one of the main things that bugged me throughout the book -- everyone and their sister bullying Nynaeve -- ends with Nynaeve getting to triumph over Moghedien in the end. LoC, though, has some sections where it just felt like nothing much was happening, plus I learned that I... actually dislike Rand/Min? Before this reread, it was my least favorite of the Rand pairings but I DID like it okay. But this time, really digging into it, there’s just a lot of ‘yikes’ there for how much Min was willing to warp her personality, behavior, and looks in order to try to appeal to Rand and win him. Ironically, I’m actually super into Powered/Unpowered pairings, where one person is ‘mundane’/’normal’ and the other is magical in some way, all the way back to my love for Clark Kent & Lois Lane. But Min is... Min is no Lois Lane. I’ll leave it at that, lol.

Again, I DO think the show has lots of opportunity to improve the Rand x Min pairing to make it feel less ‘yikes’. If we can avoid the ringlets and the simpering on Rand’s lap to try to get him to admit he wants to bang her, I would be thrilled lol. And making it so that all the relationships get more equal ‘face time’ would also be an improvement.

Since (imo) we have entered the beginnings of The Slog, I am going to keep track of Sloggy Things. Two main things.

The first being -- how long does it take plotlines to resolve?

In the previous books, all main plotlines were resolved by the ending of the book -- they get to the Eye of the World in EotW, everyone goes to Falme and the Horn is used in TGH and the dagger has been retrieved, everyone makes it to Tear in TDR and Rand is officially proclaimed as the Dragon Reborn. It gets a little more complicated in TSR, because there are more storylines at play, but Perrin defends the Two Rivers, Rand becomes the Car’a’carn, and Elayne and Nynaeve get (and dispose of) the Sad bracelets. In TFoH, Couladin gets taken care of (which is both Mat and Rand’s plotline) and Rand takes control of Cairhien, and Elayne and Nynaeve get to Salidar. Egwene doesn’t really have a ‘plotline’ of her own in the first five books, though she tags along on other people’s -- but she’s getting a lot of training instead and also has some Traumatic Events happen to her that shape her perspective of the world.

Now we get to LoC. The goals of the characters:

Rand & Mat - take care of Sammael in Illian. NOT completed by the end of the book and entirely canceled for Mat. First time Rand has not completed the proposed plot of his book.

Perrin - do a ta’veren thing for Rand. COMPLETED! (but also much shorter PoV-wise than Rand’s incompleted arc)

Egwene, Nynaeve, and Elayne are all mostly chilling and waiting for a plotline to start for them in this book but we do open up the new plot threads for A Crown of Swords near the end of the book. Min’s only goal is to get Rand to have sex with her, but that is also uncompleted in this book I guess, lol. And Mat gets a new task assigned to him by Rand. I guess... technically, Elayne and Nynaeve’s ‘purpose’ this book was to get the Salidar Aes Sedai to side with Rand, so that is definitely NOT completed. But this goal also seems to get canceled when Egwene takes over, and the new goal is to march on Tar Valon and confront Elaida.

So, these are the tasks that are being set up to be completed in ACoS:

Rand - take care of Sammael in Illian (2/?)

Mat - escort Elayne to Caemlyn and watch her become queen (1/?)

Perrin - ???? Rand wants him to help with Sammael but who knows? (I mean, it’s a reread, so I actually do know, but it’s not said in this book lol)

Egwene - get to the White Tower and challenge Elaida (1/?)

Nynaeve & Elayne - get the Bowl of Winds and fix the weather (1/?); they also believe this will... somehow???... help the Salidar Aes Sedai to side with Rand.

And the second thing being -- how many times do we get unnecessary scenes/plotlines?

Which I will define either as scenes that are pointless (like the Berelain-Faile jealousy stuff which has already been shown pointless because of Min’s viewing that Berelain is going to fall in love with someone else entirely, so why are we wasting time on her trying to chase Perrin) or repetitive scenes that give us no new information.

Many of the earlier Salidar PoVs in LoC feel this way to me, like they could have been condensed into fewer sections, like Perrin’s were, and I believe this is definitely something that will get worse in future books (pretty sure the vast majority of one of the future books is like this lol). Jordan needed a stronger hand on the editor’s pen, someone willing to ask him “do we really need this scene or are you just trying to show off your worldbuilding?”

I’ll try to keep track of this one as I go, and then tote it up at the end of each book.

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #lord of chaos #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #cannot figure out these keep disappearing from the tags #if anyone knows about why tumblr does these things #i would love some insight lol

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff

[waywardsalt]

sometimes you make aus just to see how far you can push your favorite fictional little guy within the bounds of their canon characterization before they’re straight up an entirely different character

#listen i dont mind if a character is ooc so long as it doesnt straight up disregard canon #you gotta stick with that little kernel of original characterization and so long as you make sure to do that you're good as far as i care #anyawys. thinking about my au linebecks. #just barely manages to keep qualifying as linebeck on the grounds of very different environments. its fun anyways #we got. space au linebeck as a v skilled bounty hunter who struggles to find a purpose outside of bounty hunting #crimson king au linebeck finding himself in a country mouse/ town mouse situation living a double life #multiple au linebecks who struggle with feeling useless and unneeded in his group of friends and risking himself to feel needed #ough. i got a linebeck who is broken by years without support and with constant anxiety and fear and trauma who manages #to drag himself to the top to give himself a good life and to challenge what caused him so much agony in the first place and #finds that the status is empty and that he cannot move past the one person who he relied on before they disappeared for so long #and now works for the thing that shattered both of them and now finds himself stuck in a position causing him more stress #and while he's figured out that he truly wants freedom and to support the people he loves he can't tear himself from his current path #as he tears himself apart for the person he is obsessed with and for the sake of others he doesnt even know because he cannot #get himself to stop what he has started and finds himself in a dangerous spiral even as he finds support and success #sorry. this is what happens when i have gut's theme on loop for too long #im thinking so fucking hard about that last au. you bitches arent gonna see that thing written for years sorry #salty talks #the relatability of this post tanks when you read the tags #most of my aus start with the idea of 'what if linebeck was in x situation' and it goes fucking insane not long after #dont mind me just basking in the experience of being able to create stories. also enjoying wrangling linebeck's character into fun shapes

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 03

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it. Carmilla and Velvet feud because I also live for that. I also really favor Zestial for some reason as a calm mediator.

Song for this chapter: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61

A/N: Thank you all so much for your positive feedback & feedback in general on the last two posts!! I really didn’t think this would catch so much attention but I’m so glad people like it. For some reason Tumblr’s being weird and doesn’t want to let me tag certain people, I don’t know why but if anyone does please let me know because I really don’t like that ;/ But I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! Please note that some blogs cannot be tagged, so I recommend checking this post and to check your settings to make sure I can tag you! If anything I can always just message you when the next chapter comes out, and yes I am making this series longer :) it’ll also be posted on my Wattpad soon!

Word count: 3890

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @iaaeav @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @pretty-puppy-stuffies @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @lunalixya

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part two. // Part four.

Engaging with guests throughout the night had become an exhausting endeavor, and a part of you yearned for the solace of your absence. Nevertheless, you maintained the façade, acknowledging every sinner whose smile dripped with crimson mischief. Having greeted each guest, you discreetly slipped into a shadowed corner, your shadows enveloping your figure quickly, seamlessly disappearing from the expansive room in mere seconds and emerging into an intimate gazebo outside, meticulously arranged beneath the sweeping branches of a weeping willow, you marveled at its unique ambiance. Unlike the earthly counterparts that stood white, the willow in your realm bore a deep crimson hue, its leaves adorned with a subtle, luminous sheen. A gentle smile graced your lips as you leaned against the sturdy black iron railing, delicately cradling a piece of the weeping willow between your fingertips. In the distance, the grand mansion hosting the gala loomed, its opulence contrasting with the simplicity of your secluded retreat. Despite the awareness of etiquette dictating against leaving guests unattended, the need for a mental break led you to this haven, a safe space for you. Reflecting, you acknowledged a desire for better preparation and rehearsal with the shadows, realizing the repetitiveness of conversations with the familiar sinners had rendered the night somewhat lackluster. It almost felt like you had come out of hiding for nothing. Quite the disappointment.

You sigh, massaging your temples, the lace fabric on your fingertips only slightly soothing the growing headache. However, not too far behind, you hear the sound of soft grass. You straighten up and turn around, seeing none other than your long time friend Zestial, who just smiled, nodding at you.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial inquired, standing by your side with his back against the railing. You resumed your original position, taking a moment to appreciate his father. Mentally noting how much of your grandfather Zestial reminded you of, you kept the sentiment unspoken.

Tonight, Zestial adorned himself in an outfit resonant with his time period, preserving his distinctive color scheme. A dark, meticulously tailored coat with lime green accents draped over his slender frame, capturing the essence of his demonic class. The cloak, adorned with lime green spider webs, unveiled a mesmerizing display when unfurled—his lime green eyes radiating, the upper pair embellished with vivid red irises. Instead of the customary big top hat, Zestial selected a smaller, more appropriate hat with a touch of flair. Dark as the shadows you command, it featured a light grey patch at the front and was finished with a grey-colored skull and a lime green and red-striped feather on the right side, adding a distinctive touch that mirrored his nature.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial repeated, shifting toward you a bit. Yet you resumed your original position, savoring the quiet ambiance before finally answering him. “What shall we discourse upon during our repast this eventide?” Zestial asked. Though his wording occasionally posed a challenge for others, having grown up in a family of eloquent speakers, you easily deciphered his intent. Something he truly appreciated. Though he was learning to speak more ‘modern’, or as modern as he could be.

“Quite unsure of that. Everything is changing, and I fear I might be left behind,” you expressed bluntly. Zestial sighed in response, a mix of understanding and concern evident in his lime green eyes.

“Madame, thou art timeless,” Zestial said with a bow, his cup proofing into smoke. “I pray thee, vex not thyself o’er so trivial a matter,” he added, his words resonating with both reassurance and genuine care.

You nodded, handing him a card. His surprised expression upon finding two cards instead of one didn’t escape you. “What manner of thing is this?” Zestial inquired, prompting you to summon a shadow for yourself, knowing he would find his own means back to the Gala.

“Carmilla. I am no fool to the both of you,” you said, amusement coloring your words as Zestial shook his head.

“Thou dost astonish me on every occasion,” Zestial remarked, standing by your side as you walked into your portal. Two seats vanished, leaving four empty seats at your table and six occupied.

In your study, you floated scripts in front of you, checking off names on the table list for tonight. With a few overlords left to choose from, Alastor and Charlotte secured seats based on trust and connections. Vox, Zestial, and Carmilla, an unspoken but potent couple, promised intrigue. Reconsidering Velvet for her potential devolution, you weighed each decision with strategic acumen.

Valentino, the Von Eldritch twins, and other weaker options were dismissed, maintaining a careful balance of power and influence. As you weigh the option of inviting Rosie to the gathering, her unpredictable nature adds a layer of excitement and potential surprise to the upcoming discussions. However, this unpredictability could also introduce challenges, creating an air of uncertainty around her contributions. Hopefully with Alastor around, she’d feel more inclined to behave. You check her name off the list.

In considering Stolas, the Goetia prince, his personal issues and tarnished reputation pose significant hurdles. Divorcing from his wife, sleeping with an imp for fun, as well as losing control of his daughter on Earth, it all seemed too risky to get involved with. While his wisdom and influence could contribute positively, the shadows of his struggles may complicate the dynamics, stirring potential conflicts and requiring delicate handling. Someone might get out of line with a comment towards him. His power was incredibly useful, but not worth the risk.

Husk’s transformation from a former overlord to a bartender signals a decline in power and status. While his laid-back demeanor might bring a sense of unpredictability, his diminished influence raises questions about the relevance of his involvement in the current political landscape of hell. Though he was your friend, you needed to keep your reputation pristine.

As the you contemplate the overlords assets, a mix of excitement, caution, and uncertainty envelops the decision-making process. Each overlord’s potential positive contributions are balanced by the looming negatives.

“Madame?” One of your shadows materialized, prompting a nod for them to proceed. “There seems to be some trouble in the lobby between the guests. What would you like us to do?” it inquired. A grimace crossed your face, hoping the disturbance wouldn’t mar your night. “Let me handle it,” you declared, snapping your fingers, causing the script to vanish. The shadow nodded, blending back into a wall for you to step through.

Upon reappearing, you assumed the form of a taller shadow. The room surrounded by guests revealed Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla standing in the middle. Zestial, seemingly composed, stood close behind Carmilla, observing the situation. Carmilla appeared visibly upset, with Velvet in proximity, a pointed finger dropping as soon as she noticed your arrival. Alastor maintained his usual wide smile, though it bordered on the eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The scene unfolded, presenting a potential challenge to the serene atmosphere you aimed to maintain during the gala.

Everyone seemed to stop, slowly turning toward you to see your face. Except there was no expression, just the large shadow you had taken form of. In seconds the shadow disappeared, leaving you in the fog, the expression on your face anything but calm.

"Madame I-" Velvet began, but her words were halted by the sight of your lace glove, your hand rising to silence her. Approaching the overlords, you spoke with an air of cold authority.

"My quarters. Now," you commanded, and with a snap of your fingers, smoke enveloped your spot as you vanished. Shadows materialized around the overlords, guiding them to your quarters, leaving the stunned guests in the lobby.

"Well, that was interesting," Valentino remarked.

In your study, the overlords found you seated in your tall, black chair. Its ebony surface featured intricate carvings of black glass, elegant swirls, and patterns tailored to your essence, creating an atmosphere of undeniable authority and refinement.

"I hope you all had fun acting like children," you chided sternly. The overlords lined up, forming a unified front. Leaning against the right side of your chair, you crossed your legs, elbow on the armrest, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh. Annoyance laced your words as you questioned, "What did you feel the need to argue about now?" Before Velvet, Vox, and Carmilla could respond simultaneously, you halted them. "One at a time. I'd assume you all handle this like adults, if you even can." The tension in the room hung thick as the overlords awaited their turn to address your inquiry.

“She wants me at her table Vaggie! Me!” Charlotte said excitedly. Vagatha just smiled.

“That’s good! Now you can tell them about the hotel, and maybe someone will be interested.” Vagatha said, and Charlotte just nodded.

“Maybe they-“ Charlotte stopped, observing as people began to crowd around the center of the lobby. Charlotte and Vagatha stood from their spots at the bar to walk toward the center, where the overlords stood. Velvet and Vox were next to each other, while Carmilla, Alastor and Zestial were across. Carmilla and Velvet were face to face. “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked as Vagatha and her pushed their way through the crowds of people.

“Come on, Carmilla, always the mood-killer,” Velvet scoffed, a disrespectful tone tainting her words. Carmilla shot her a stern look, ready to assert her authority.

“Watch that tongue, Velvet. I will not let your insolence slide,” Carmilla retorted, attempting to rein in the escalating tension.

Vox, ever the smooth talker, chimed in, “Ladies, ladies, let’s not turn this into a drama fest. We’re all here for a reason.” Vox said, sternly giving a tight lipped smile to Velvet, silently telling her to keep her shit together.

Carmilla shot a glare at Velvet, who replied with a defiant smirk, “Drama or not, Vox, some of us aren’t here for the ballroom charm.”

Alastor, drawn to the brewing chaos, couldn’t resist adding his flair, “Well, well, a bit of spice never hurt a party, does it?”

Carmilla, unfazed by the chaos, spoke with a calm authority, “Velvet, your insolence is unnecessary. This is not a playground; it’s a gathering of overlords. Act accordingly.”

Velvet, seemingly undeterred, shot back with a dismissive laugh, “Poor Grandma, always trying to play the responsible one. Maybe loosen up a bit? Have a drink will you?”

Vox, ever the smooth talker, added with a slick comment, “Perhaps we can focus on the matters at hand. Save the theatrics for later ladies.”

Alastor, intrigued by the unfolding drama, simply grinned, “Oh the picture box has spoken! Quite intriguing.” The room continued to buzz with tension as each overlord, except Rosie, added their own flavor to the brewing turmoil. As the tension thickened, Vox, with a sly grin, couldn't resist adding his own slick comment to the mix.

"Ah, Alastor, the radio days were quaint, but it seems you're a bit outdated. Television is the future, perhaps you should tune in sometime," he quipped with a wink, the words delivered with a calculated smoothness. The room momentarily hung in a charged silence before the verbal sparring resumed, adding another layer to the complex interplay of personalities at the gala.

With Vox's comment about Alastor being outdated sinking in, the radio demon responded with a sly grin, sharp teeth on display, his eyes displays dials, as the rooms lights began to deepen, "Ah, Vox, your television endeavors are impressive, but remember, I'm not just audible; I'm unforgettable. A little screen time won't change that," he retorted, “This face was made for radio.” He said with a grin, tilting his head to the side, a sharp snap in his neck, his words carrying a mix of amusement and confidence. The verbal exchange between the two overlords added another layer to the already charged atmosphere, each comment becoming a piece in the intricate puzzle of conflicts and egos at the gala.

“See what you did grandma, now you’ve got the two of them fighting.” Velvet said, pointing a finger into Carmella’s chest. She scoffed, shoving her away.

“Don’t you dare get disrespectful on me you brat.” Carmilla said, beginning to heat up with anger.

That's when Madame stepped in, reappearing in the form of a taller shadow, casting a lengthened silhouette in the room brimming with guests. Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla found themselves at the center of the unfolding tableau, and Zestial, seemingly composed, lingered just behind Carmilla, quietly observing the escalating drama. Carmilla's visage betrayed a hint of distress, her pointed finger lowering as she registered your reappearance. Alastor, with his trademark grin, bordered on eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The unfolding scene disrupted the serene atmosphere you had meticulously aimed to maintain during the gala, presenting an unexpected challenge.

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned their gaze toward you, anticipating your reaction. However, your face remained expressionless, concealed within the depths of the large shadow you had taken form of. In mere seconds, the shadow dissipated, leaving you in a misty veil. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a storm brewed, ready to challenge the delicate balance of the evening.

Now, here you all were, sitting in the study after Carmilla had explained the situation.

“Madame, with all due respect,” Carmilla spoke, looking down. “I truly do not believe Velvet is mature enough to be at our table tonight.” Carmilla said.

“Are you questioning my judgment?” You asked sharply, to which Carmilla stiffened quickly, shaking her head then.

”No Madame, I would never-“

“Then do not say foolish things.” You said. Sighing, you shut your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. Tonight sensitive information would be revealed and Carmilla did have some point here. Velvet clearly could not hold her tongue.

”Vox, control your associate please, or you both will be cut from the dinner tonight.” You said finally, to which he nodded nervously.

“Of course Madame.” He said, nodding to you.

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, looking to Alastor.

“I want none of this technology talk either.” You spoke, staring at Alastor who just smiled with lidded eyes. You knew he was very much upset, but you had forbidden anyone to fight in your home, anyone but you of course. “You all will act like mature adults wether you like it or not. I am not your guardian, I should not be having this conversation with overlords who should know better.” You said, standing. ”Now, all of you, out.” You said, snapping your fingers. Quickly the shadows began to move, ushering everyone out of your study. Everyone except Carmilla. “Not you.” You said to her, Zestial nodding to you and her as he stepped out, giving you both privacy.

“Madame, I didn’t mean what I said-“ Carmilla said quickly. You waved her off, straightening yourself out.

“Nonsense Carmilla, I know you meant well.” You said with a stoic expression. You sit back down, crossing your legs and snapping your fingers to form a chair in front of your desk, ushering her to sit. “I wanted to speak to you about your weapons.” You stated. At this her eyes went wide, before dropping again.

“Oh, very well then. What would you like to know?” She asked. You grinned, before standing again.

“Well, how much would I need to give you for you to make me a personal bayonet?” You asked. She went silent for a moment, before answering.

“Nothing at all Madame.” She said, standing to look at you. “May I ask what for?” She questioned. You shook your head.

“No, just to have on display. I want a new one, the old one I have is quite out of style for me.” You replied. She just nodded, before you waved to her, sitting back down and summoning a script again. “You may go now, and please, do not argue with children.” You commented. She just smiled and nodded, leaving you to your own vices.

It was half-past eleven, five minutes till the midnight bells chime. Everyone in the lobby was beginning to get excited for the entertainment you had planned for the night. Oh, you knew you would not disappoint.

“Madame would like everyone to accompany her on a journey tonight. She has sent me to retrieve you all. She would like to formally welcome you to tonight’s entertainment.” The large shadow said, standing from the topic of the stairs. Behind it was a large portal. It stepped backwards, into the portal, and nodded for the guests to start coming through.

The custom-built coliseum stands as a testament to Madame's vision, a grand fusion of opulence and dark elegance. The circular structure boasts towering columns, but instead of conventional pillars, thick chains rise, intricately linked and serving as both ornamental decor and structural support. The arches, molded in black, curve gracefully around the circumference, evoking a Victorian Gothic aesthetic that permeates the entire venue.

Two larger-than-life statues of Madame herself flank the entrance, capturing her regal poise and adding a touch of imposing authority. The statues serve not only as decorative elements but as a representation of the gala's hostess, a constant presence overseeing the proceedings, she is always watching, all seeing, perfection.

The overall ambiance is one of grandeur and mystery, with the black molding on the arches casting shadows that play into the darker undertones. Every intricate detail, from the chains to the statues, contributes to the unique Victorian Gothic feel of the coliseum, matching Madame’s home perfectly, matching her perfectly. The venue, finally being unveiled to the guests, now welcomes them who are treated to an appetizer course, surrounded by the striking architecture and entertained within the darkly enchanting atmosphere Madame has meticulously crafted.

Numerous shadows, dark and formless, line the entrance walls, extending silent greetings to the arriving guests. Their presence adds an air of mystique and intrigue as they blend seamlessly with the Gothic architecture. As attendees make their way into the coliseum, these shadowy figures create an ethereal welcome, embodying the unique atmosphere of Madame's custom-built venue.

At a separate entrance reserved for the handpicked members of Madame's esteemed dinner table, a solitary shadow stands guard. This entrance, reserved for a select few, hints at the exclusivity and importance of those who will partake in the upcoming dinner. The shadowy sentinels serve not only as silent greeters but also as guardians of the event's secrets, casting an enigmatic allure over the gala.

A singular shadows escorts Charlotte, Alastor, and the rest of the overlords to the exclusive section, leading them to an elevator to bring them to the best seats in the coliseum. The elevator’s interior is a striking display of elegance, with white and black checkered flooring lending a timeless touch. The walls, enveloped in darkness, exude an air of mystery, while black, smokey glass engravings on the ceiling add intricate detailing that dances in the ambient light. Each number on the elevator, indicating the ascending levels, glows a vibrant red, creating a vivid contrast against the monochrome palette.

“Oh I’m so excited! What do you think we’re gonna see? Gladiators? Sinners fight? Oh actually I hope not, I don’t want people to die.” Charlotte said to Alastor. Carmilla just chuckled at her antics while Zestial eyed her with curiosity. Where did Alastor find such a girl and why the princess of all people?

The elevator stops at the top floor, revealing the opening in the middle, which was surprisingly covered with water.

“What is Madame playing at?” Carmilla questioned as the overlords sat in a row at the top. From there they could see everything and everyone.

“I am quite uncertain, yet my anticipation is stirred nonetheless.” Zestial said. The lights around began to dim, and shadows began to pour glasses of water in front of all the guests. Down in the middle of the coliseum was the tallest shadow, the one that seemed to be Madame’s favorite, since it always spoke for her.

“Greetings all. It is Madame’s pleasure to invite you all to the special entertainment tonight. Madame has put together some of hell’s finest performers for your entertainment tonight. I would like to present, preforming here tonight, The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra preforming Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61.” The shadow said with a bow, before it vanished just as quick as it came. Then, other shadows appeared, but this time they were different. They were people, performers, with clear outlined silhouettes, faces and expressions, even clothes.

“Hey, Al?” Charlotte asked, leaning over in her seat to Alastor. He let out a ‘hm?’ In response.

“Does Madame own those souls down there?” Charlotte whispered, but before Alastor could answer, a shadow had already cut in.

“Yes. All the shadows here, even yours, Madame owns.” The shadow said quietly, filling Charlotte’s glass cup with water. Charlotte nervously, perked up, but said nothing as she shadow carried on with it’s catering.

The ethereal notes of the music filled the air as the performance unfolded. Around the musicians stood ballet dancers, their movements a delicate poetry in motion. Clad in all black, the performers created a stark contrast to the dancers, who emerged with an otherworldly grace akin to figures rising from the depths of water. The dancers moved with an angelic fluidity, their forms intertwining seamlessly with the haunting melody, creating a mesmerizing tableau that captivated the audience. The visual symphony of black-clad musicians and the whisky-hued ballet dancers painted a scene of enchantment and mystery within the grand coliseum. Even down to the dancers, this had Madame written all over it.

Velvet's keen eye captured the essence of the dancers' ethereal movements on paper. With each stroke of her sketch, she depicted the dancers as if emerging from a watery abyss, the fog enveloping their feet creating an illusion of water flowing upward. The intricate details on her sketch paper brought to life the dancers' graceful forms, their figures seemingly intertwined with the rising mist, evoking the enchantment of a waterspout captured in a moment of sublime artistry. Velvet's artistic interpretation added a layer of depth to the performance, transforming the ephemeral dance into a tangible and captivating visual narrative.

Water had begun to swirl, the dancers moving around it, the water getting taller and taller, similar to the way it had when you had first made your entrance at the beginning of the Gala. Now, it was water, and from Charlotte’s seat, she had struggled to make out what was going on. She turned to Alastor to see him holding a pair of opera glasses in his hand. Without you having to ask, he tapped the armrest of her seat. Charlotte turned to the side to see a pair tucked neatly against the front of the armrest. She grabbed them quickly, before looking through them and at the waterspout now forming in the middle. Her jaw flew open, as well as the loud screech of Alastor’s track playing. Vox had short circuited, and Carmilla gasped loudly. Velvet stood silent, but there was evident confusion on her face, while Zestial sunk into his seat, conflicting emotions flowing through him.

“Madame- she’s-“ Charlotte stuttered, and Alastor nodded, swallowing thickly.

“With an exorcist. I know.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #zestial hazbin hotel #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #yandere vox #yandere vox x reader #hellaverse #isuckatwritingsobenice infernal shadows #isuckatwritingsobenice

[oakbuggy]

Liar, Liar Chapter 2

Recom!Neteyam x female OC

Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.

Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting

!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!

Chapter 2 (NSFW) ~6.7k words

AO3 Link Here!

Prev Chapter / Next Chapter

Tala felt murky and lost, in a place vaguely familiar.

It looked like the ocean, like the one she had marveled at when all the clans came together under multiple leadership, most importantly the Sully family, but it was incredibly dark.

“Tala” A light feminine voice called out within the depths.

“Kiri!” Tala felt like crying, she reached for her but for some reason their fingers wouldn’t touch.

Kiri’s intelligent round eyes that normally glistened petal-yellow now dilated with worry.

“Tala, can you hear me? Where are you?” She couldn’t hear her.

Tala mouthed carefully the location of the scouting party’s attack. “Kol’iluen Hills, Kol’iluen Hills!”

Kiri watched her lips thoughtfully, understanding.

The Tawkami woman paused, should she even say anything about Neteyam? What could she say, when he was so different, so changed?

Kiri noticed her friend’s pained expression and smiled reassuringly. She had to tell her.

“Ne-te-yam--is–a-live”

When the Omaticayan girl’s expression morphed into one of shock and confusion, Tala knew she understood and her expression remained pained. Kiri had a special connection to Eywa, surely she would figure out what happened to him, how to help him. Much more than Tala could.

Suddenly the dream felt freezing and Kiri’s image disappeared before her eyes without a word more.

“Kiri!”

Tala gasped loudly, her body tensed and the firs thing she noticed was how cold she was.

She had been drugged and anesthetized, she had done it to herself before as an experiment but the tawtute recipe left her feeling so much worse upon awakening.

’Hello? Can you hear me? Are you alright?’

Tala surveyed her new home: three dark concrete walls and a cage door with thick bars. On the other side was just a massive hallway lit by stinging light. When she tried getting up, a weight held her down, metallic smooth cuffs secured on each wrist. She grimaced, her ear was sore too.

“Hello?” She whispered, throat dry.

“Here, here.” 

A thin hand waved at her from the corner of the cage, they also wore these cuffs. Tala reached out to brush the owner’s four fingers before holding it. Though strangers, they were both na’vi, and that was comfort enough.

“​​Oel ngati kameie, I am Orlek’an te Yokelk’ita of the Anurai.”

“​​Oel ngati kameie, Orlek’an, I am Li’tala te Eyay Engk’ita of the Tawkami. How long have you been here my sister?”

“I do not know, is it still spring?” 

“No, it’s summer.”

Orlek’an sighed. “I am a craftswoman, I was taken while foraging alone. There were others, but they’ve been moved, vanished, I am the only one who returns here. Are you a warrior, Li’tala?” 

“Please, call me Tala. And barely, I am an alchemist, but the war required more warriors. What do the tawtutes make you do here?”

“Labor, collecting, identifying, crafting which cannot be replicated by their tawtute machines,” Her voice was deep, but so, so weary. Tala sighed, frustrated, then gingerly felt around her right ear, fingers finding a squarish tag, pierced into the skin.

“What is this on my ear, this thing? Do you have one too?”

Orlek’an barked a humorless laugh. “Tags, so vrrteps can tell their false na’vi apart from the real na’vi. They can’t tell the difference.”

Tala continued to inspect herself. She pressed her palms against the scarring on her neck, not quite healed, definitely not treated. There was no ache, it didn’t seem infected, which was the only silver lining. At least a day had passed, maybe two.

She seethed once she remembered Neteyam’s face.

Suddenly the doors to the hall boomed open and loud footsteps charged into the room. A tawtute wearing an exo-pack and a long white coat and a dreamwalker soldier stopped in front of Tala’s cell.

“Finally awake, huh? Get this one.” The dream walker opened the cage door, making both Tala and Orlek’an hiss at the intrusion. The tawtute rolled his eyes. “Just great, fresh meat.” Tala read the name on his ID: L. Hanson. Hanson turned to the dreamwalker.

“I don’t have time for this shit, get her up.”

“You could say please.”

“Please, Patty.” The dreamwalker smirked and approached Tala, who had buried herself in the corner of her cell, pupils tiny and menacing. Patty raised her hands in defense.

“You scratch at me, those bracelets will shock the Eywa out of you if you do. No sudden moves.” She said in stilted na’vi. Cautiously, Tala stood up and nodded.

The cuffs magnetized and forced her arms together with a loud clack. Tala scowled deeper when Patty simply shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll get used to it.”

Tala grumbled to herself, she felt even more helpless than before now with her hands trapped together. As she followed the pair outside her cell, she casted a look behind her, able to catch the bright glint of copper eyes. Orlek’an. Tala waved her tail goodbye as the Anurai woman tried to give a comforting smile.

The doors opened with another slam and Tala found herself nearly blinded by the infernally bright vrrtep light fixtures.

“Move along, don’t got all day.” Patty sharply elbowed her back and Tala stumbled forward.

Lab 08. Ventilation Chamber. Electric 7B. The place was so massive and Tala committed the path and signages to memory. It was child’s play, as it was to any young alchemist. The place was crawling most with Recombinant and dreamwalkers, the humans she did glimpse at all wore either exo-packs or white hazmat suits.

After walking down the maze of Bridgehead, they finally came upon a darkened laboratory, Lab 12. Plants and samples were kept bright and encased in clear glass cases. Patty pushed Tala onto a tiny wheeled stool and then took a seat by the door.

“Understand English?” Hanson asked gruffly, also sitting down. He tinkered with his digital pad but Tala’s eyes wandered, there seemed to be only two other tawtute scientists working at opposite corners. Shiny shock batons strapped to their white hazmat suits.

“Hey!” Hanson slammed his fist on the desk but it didn’t shock Tala much. The muted thump was like that of a na’vi child’s tantrum rather than anything of threat.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.” She said quietly.

“Fucking finally. Don’t wanna deal with this piece of shit translator.” Hanson grumbled to himself and Tala could hear the faint snickers behind her.

Droids came over to the table before Tala. For the next few hours, that’s all she did, she sat and listed out names of plants, herbs, roots, leaves, etc. With how monotonous the work was, sometimes she would pretend not to know words in English just to see Hanson curse and uselessly finagle his translator pad, which was indeed a piece of shit. This brought some entertainment to both her and Patty, and the guard herself seemed content to stay seated by the door.

After hours of what felt even more mundane than weaving, which she unfortunately despised, she was finally allowed to leave after Hanson waved her off like a nuisance.

Patty held her gun securely as she made Tala walk ahead of her. Seeing how the dreamwalker preferred to painfully jab her body whenever they needed to turn, Tala let her mind wander. She thought about the poison affecting Neteyam.

What was the efficacy of her scent? Did it have an active effect that persisted even without close proximity? Or was he just baring with it? How long would it be effective for once she was absent? Did it do more than ‘help with headaches’?

Her head was filled with so many potential hypotheses that her neck was suddenly yanked back to stop her from crashing into someone.

A large recombinant solder stood tall over both women and he turned, a strange glint in his eye. Patty’s back straightened.

“Evening, Private. Done for the day?”

“Yes, Corporal Halloway, sir. Just escorting the newbie back to her cell now.”

Corporal Halloway leered at Tala, his interest was evident and Tala felt goosebumps on her neck. However, a chance was a chance, and there was no reason to only count on Corporal Tom for her survival and eventual escape. Halloway seemed at least he’d be simpler to talk to than the whole paradoxical mess that is Neteyam’s psyche.

He stepped forward and hummed nonchalantly as if he wasn’t already fucking her in his head.

“You take off, Private. I’ll make sure the prisoner gets back, secure and sound.”

Patty saluted and Tala was left alone with the Recom soldier, her arms shifted uncomfortably, sore from having been forced together the entire day. Halloway smelled disgusting and she had to school her expression to keep meek and wide-eyed to not gag.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let ol’Johhny take good care of you.” He said with a smug grin.

Now she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

He led her down different hallways, much emptier than the ones she’s been in before.

It was when Halloway slowed down to grab at her ass that Tala was wondering if this was a good idea. His scent was strangely minty, and he smelled more like the musty tawtute walls of the facility than anything.

“Don’t be shy now. I promise I’ll show you a real good time.” He prodded, squeezing her ass cheek firmly. Tala recoiled but nodded, biting her lip to appear enticed, and hoped he at least knew how to fuck.

She could smell him before she could see him, sunlillies and bark mixed with gunpowder and she grimaced at the unnatural addition. Halloway looked up.

“Yo, Tommy! Training’s already over?” He asked breezily as his fellow corporal stalked towards him, Neteyam’s expression was unreadable as usual.

He nodded and Tala ignored the feeling of his eyes burning into the side of her head.

“That’s right. What’ve you got here?” Corporal Tom asked in an even tone.

“Hmm, just something sweet. Need something to help me sleep like a baby, you know?”

“Hmm.”

Corporal Tom squeezed Tala’s free shoulder, standing opposite of Halloway.

“But I want this particular treat. Been looking forward to it all day. How about you look for something else.” It wasn’t a question.

Neteyam’s gaze was extremely unsettling, eyes barely masking a foul mood and violent intent. Halloway raised his eyebrow at him, confused, and glanced between the two na’vi. After a beat of silence, Halloway raised both hands in peace.

“Alright, since you want it so bad, you can have her. It’s my turn next time though!” Halloway conceded and walked away lazily. Tala felt her spirit and ego droop, that was it? Was she not worthy of even a little bit more reluctance? When the Recom walked out of earshot, she turned to Neteyam quite haughtily.

“Surely you knew you’d have to share, yes?” She said with an unamused look on her face. Neteyam’s cockblocking was going to be a problem in her chances of escape.

Instead of answering, he grabbed Tala by the neck and pushed her into a room on their left, knocking the air out of her lungs as she landed on what seemed to be a bed. Her head hit the wall and she winced, cradling it. The blaring lights didn’t take it any better, it was harsh and the bed was barely even that, extremely stiff. A near claustrophobic, windowless room.

Halloway had intended to bring her to one of the rutting/heat rooms, closed off from the rest of the facility and meant for the growing number of Recombinant na’vi. It was private and soundproof, most used it for more casual purposes than it was designed for.

Tala glared up at Neteyam only to see huge pools of sunlight, his pupils intensely compacted and focused on her. He seemed very territorial for someone who considered her a toy.

She kneeled up quickly on the bed, intrigued.

“Did you really want to keep me to yourself?” She cooed, almost laughing. Tala leaned against Neteyam who stood, hands and face resting on his toned stomach as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Maybe not entirely hopeless.

“Watch yourself. Halloway smells like shit and that defeats the purpose of you.” Neteyam sneered, shoving Tala back. She rolled into a stand and gracefully draped her trapped arms around his head with a coy smile, bewildering Neteyam. He had half a mind to just kick her out of Bridgehead and be done with her, migraines be damned. 

“If you wanted me to be all yours, I prefer being courted with beaded tops and food.” Tala was positively glowing, her smile was full of mirth.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather shoot you.”

She giggled. Neteyam looked at her like she was crazy and his body felt hot, he attributed it to anger from her insolence. He growled as he grabbed at the backs of her legs and landed both of them on the top of the bed. Her linked arms made it impossible for her to move away.

“Hey-!” Tala yelped, the back of her head stung hitting the hard pillow.

Neteyam kissed her hard, sick of her speaking. The kiss had them both opening their mouths wide, fangs clacking, their arousals grinding against each other. The friction made Tala arch her back and moan breathily.

To his intense displeasure that moan just turned into more airy giggling.

“But what about tomorrow, or the day after that? Are you going to see me every day, is that it?” Tala asked mockingly, her tail swishing back and forth cheekily. Neteyam said nothing and smirked.

Tala’s smile dropped and her tail stilled. There was no way this skxawng was serious.

Neteyam scoffed then dove his face over the crook of her neck to inhale more of her spicy-sweet scent. He bit at her neck, right under her jaw, and suckled her skin, she shivered and moaned. 

“I’m not surprised you already need a reminder of what you are.”

Before Tala could process his words, suddenly he was ripping her arms off his head and manhandled her to land on the floor on her ass.

“Ow! You fucking brute, you could’ve-“ She started to curse but froze when quick hands practically ripped off the metal buckles of his tactical harness and zipped down his pants just enough for his heavy cock to hang free.

Tala was glad she was on her knees because they were already feeling weak looking at the size of it.

Thick-vein and ribbed, Tala nearly cursed Eywa for making this particular creation so infuriatingly perfect. His tip was already leaking precum that smelled so unfortunately divine to her nose.

Neteyam’s ego naturally inflated as he watched her practically salivate over his cock, not even fully hard. He smirked as he taunted her. “Be a good girl and maybe I’ll even fuck you with it.”

Her clunt clenched around nothing and Tala could feel her cheeks flush even deeper and she bit her lips shut.

“Open.” He rasped heatedly and with his other hand, he lifted the tip to her lips. She blinked up at him through her long eyelashes and paused. His pupils were already blown wide black, looking more and more like he wanted to devour her whole, and her entire body felt flushed under his concentrated stare.

She let her eyelids drop and held eye contact as her tongue slowly lapped at his tip for a taste.

Salty, his musk was dizzying her. He kept still.

Tala opened her jaw wider to take the in head slowly.

Neteyam yanked her head forward and held onto her with both hands. He let out a long groan feeling her throat spasm and squeeze his length in her panic. His hips started moving slowly, uncaring for how much she was choking on his thick length.

“Fuck…” He breathed out quietly over her muffled whimpers.

Tears beaded on Tala’s eyelashes at the sudden burn in her throat and her hands flew to his clothed thighs, clawing onto them for dear life as Neteyam started fucking her mouth. He leveraged her head in time with his hips, making her nose hit his pelvis each time, ignoring every gag.

Tala tried her best to relax her throat, laying her tongue flat against the underside of his cock, though her adaptability only earned her insults.

“Such a slut. You’re used to this, aren’t you?” He growled tauntingly and pulled out his cock almost all the way before slamming it back into her windpipe. She screamed around his hard cock, the vibrations making him rut while the sound stroked his ego. His eyes were open, enthralled in watching her fall apart and choke, uselessly trying to squirm and push away from him. Precum and drool dribbled from the sides of her swollen lips and Neteyam felt like he could cum from just the sound of her desperate whines alone.

“You’re a toy, Tala, my toy. And I’ll use my toy whenever I want.” Neteyam chuckled darkly but Tala could barely hear at this point. His cock was bruising her throat, her eyes were watering nonstop and her head was spinning.

His moans and grunts filled the room, he’s not sure how he was able to keep this long without Tala’s mouth. It was tight and wet, and it felt so good to shut her up. Tala worked her tongue to massage the underside, she couldn’t help moaning as she felt every hard ridge of his cock. Her tewng was soaked through even despite the abuse of her mouth. He could smell her so clearly, her arousal made him enjoy her mouth all the more.

“You only exist for me now.” Neteyam muttered with a wicked smile. He then stilled, holding Tala’s head down. Her eyes were darting up at him and his figure, yet he just waited. He waited for her fingers to start trembling and dug into his clothes thighs. Waited for her to try forcing her head back against his grip. Waited for her drool to overflow, her whimpers to get louder and louder, her throat to convulse-

“Do you understand, ma’fil(my toy)?”

Tala nodded desperately.

Neteyam let her head go and she lurched backward, coughing out drool and precum. She gasped and shuddered, tears running down her cheeks and even her tail was too weak to raise itself from the ground. He graciously allowed a few more seconds before he started pulling her head towards him again.

Tala resigned to her current fate, dizzied and hot from him abusing her throat. He liked her like this, so much more compliant. Neteyam loved the way her eyes rolled back every time she gasped for breath and how all that drool was running down her neck, to the floor, and dripping from her tits.

“Good girl… there’s hope for you yet.” He muttered, now his hips adding more force every time she sunk down to his hilt. She moaned a whine, her mouth felt fucking heavenly.

He let out tawtute curses under his breath and kept Tala’s head still, snapping his cock into her mouth in fast strokes. 

Finally, Neteyam let out a long curse and froze, eyes snapped shut as he came in the back of her throat. Tala’s eyes rolled back, she just couldn’t swallow, she couldn’t breathe, and her body was twitching and desperate for air.

When he finally pulled out of her mouth, Tala collapsed forward, coughing and leaking cum from her swollen lips.

There were barely any thoughts in her head, only the taste of his cum and the unsatisfied throbbing of her pussy.

Neteyam tugged her head up by her hair, he wanted to see her face.

Eywa, she looked so wrecked, he could tell she was barely even registering the force of his grip and it made him smirk.

Tala knew what a complete mess she must’ve looked like, she had basically sobbed around that wonderfully–stupidly– ribbed cock. After she regained some sense she looked up begrudgingly, ears ready to hear whatever smug shit was about to spew from that handsome face.

“Good girl. You did your best.” UGH

“Fuck you.” It was harder to speak than she thought it would be.

He chuckled. He pressed some button on his wrist tech and with a drop, Tala’s hands unlinked. She looked down, then looked up, mind still catching up.

“You… could have done that this entire time?”

“What’s the problem? You only used your mouth.”

Tala hissed. She looked down on herself, cum and unholy amount of drool stuck to her skin and made her feel that much more dirty. She empathically placed her hands on both of his thighs to support herself to her feet and then leaned close to his face.

“Well, your toy wants to be clean now, if you don’t mind.” She glowered. Unsatisfied or not, Tala would rather get cleaned than anything at that moment. Neteyam looked down to watch his cum dripping down her neck and tits, decorating her boobs enticingly, his smug smile widened.

“You’ve never looked better.” He smiled as if he had given her a genuine compliment and Tala wanted to suffocate him. Before the Tawkami girl could reach for the pillow, Neteyam suddenly stood up, stepped out of his pants, and tugged off his shirt lazily. He grabbed Tala around her waist and carried her like a sack into the connected bathroom unit. There had to be one when heats or ruts could last days at a time.

“O-Oh! Neteyam, you skxawng!” She struggled, cursing. He sighed. “I’ll drop you.” Tala went limp.

The bathroom was small, more like a wet room with a connected hand-hold faucet. Obviously, Neteyam got to it first, and obviously, he turned it on and struck her with freezing water and he laughed meanly at the scream that came out of her mouth.

“Such a fucking—!” She expeled a long string of na’vi curses that Neteyam didn’t bother to listen to. All of her was wet and cold and Tala flung her wet hair at Neteyam to slap him. He merely chuckled and when the water turned warm, he held the showerhead above his head and pulled her in to let it soak down her too.

“Gotta help clean my toy, yes?” He replied and Tala scoffed. She worked on washing her face and ran her hands along her neck and chest, pawing at her breasts to get that sticky feeling and his smell off of her.

Maybe Neteyam was staring. Maybe he was thinking of pushing her against the wall and having her scream his name out of pleasure this time.

When Tala looked back at him, cheeks still red and lips still swollen, now her hair cascading in soft wet waves, he seriously contemplated having that thought be a reality.

“Your toy is fragile, it’d be a problem for you too if I broke.” She said snarkily, knowing exactly what was going on in his mind. “Your headband, skxawngs.” She lightly pulled the headband off before the fabric got completely soaked. 

Neteyam watched as she gently placed it on a dry ledge, away from the spray, then massaged the area of his mark on her neck.

He supposed he could have been gentler with the bite, with the way it bruised ugly vivid colors and still had hard shells of blood. Tala glanced up at him, his scar visible. He was still handsome even with the scar on his forehead, which was infuriating, but still, it was large, and it looked… as if it was burning inside him.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, both knew what she was referring to. He snorted.

“Do you care?”

“Oh, yes, I enjoy asking about things I don't care about! You act as if I like wasting my own time.” She replied sarcastically.

“You do, you do it all the time.”

Tala screwed up her face and turned away from him with a huff, because maybe he was technically correct, it was a coincidence. She’d rather freeze outside than spend another second with him. He stopped her by just barely ghosting his fingers over her elbow.

“It doesn’t right now.” His voice was low, likely honest. She paused. 

“Let me see.”

Neteyam highly considered not, but right now she was closer to the exit, and therefore his gun, so he relented. He put the showerhead on a hook that let the water run on them both and leaned down with a sigh. Tala gingerly held his face, completely focused on the scar tissue. There was skin trauma, sure, though it was as if injected with something dark, swirling, active. But still, a question picked at her brain.

“Why do you hide it?” The People did not consider scars unseemly, they were proof of their survival. This was too.

Neteyam pulled his face away from her hands.

“Tawtutes stare.”

“Tawtutes always stare.” Tala countered. He raised his brows at her and they stared for a moment in silence. He sighed.

“Some specific scientists stare. I don’t like the look on their faces, they look… pleased with themselves.” Neteyam admitted without looking at her in the eye. He wasn’t completely sure why he was explaining this. Maybe because of that along with headaches, he felt his usual aggressive thoughts… silence. Feeling clearheaded out of battle felt strange after months otherwise.

“Do you remember how you died?” Tala knew it was a sensitive question but they have already established that neither felt like being patient with the other. Neteyam kept still like a statue, eyes challenging her.

“Lo’ak shot me. Right here.” He pointed to his forehead scar.

Tala’s eyes widened, that wasn’t what she was told. He saw her disbelief and his voice turned scornful.

“Of course, he never told you, maybe didn’t tell anyone. Skxawng was returning fire, then hit me instead.” His face twisted in anger, betrayal, and the vitriol in his words made her feel sick.

“That’s… That’s not what I heard. Kiri said-”

“Kiri wasn’t there. I’m sure my Mother finished my songcord with a heroic ending. How could she sing ‘slain by his baby brother’?” He growled, fangs showing his spite. He straightened his back and wiped water from his face in an act to center himself. His eyes became even colder as he stared down at her.

“Besides, Tala, how well do you even know my family? Would you really be able to tell if they’re lying?”

The words stung but it was already where the Tawkami woman’s mind went to. She was closest with Kiri, and for Tuk she didn’t want to pry. Lo’ak only confessed that he hadn’t visited the Tree of Voices even once after a long night of drinking kava. He and Spider both asked for her help with their nightmares and she had concocted strong sleeping droughts for a peaceful sleep, but even once and a while they would still scream themselves awake.

Her tail swung erratically as her mind raced. Only Kiri had told her of their family surrounding Neteyam as he died, bleeding out. Her eyes shifted to the large scar on his chest instead.

It ruled out the headshot, the chest was his death shot, but how involved was Lo’ak? Her stance wavered in the face of Neteyam’s eyes scorching white heat through her own. If her eyes were a forest, Neteyam’s sun was burning it down.

Tala closed her eyes. Regardless, her theory was answered and the details surrounding Neteyam’s death didn’t matter to her, not when she was focused on her survival. This was not her goal.

“So the scientists brought you back. Shouldn’t you be proud of them?” She asked instead. He glowered.

“You and I both know that I shouldn’t be here.”

Tala hummed, neutral. He knew it was wrong for him to be alive, but now that he was he would be fighting for the RDA’s behalf. She smiled, slightly embittered, mostly sad.

“Seems like no one in this war will let you rest.” Neteyam found her words surprisingly sincere. The way her leaf-green eyes seemed actually so upset for his sake though unnerved him, her sentiment made awful feelings swirl in his gut and it twisted him further.

“Must seem like that for the Tawkami’s ‘Sevin Prrnesyul(Pretty flower bud). No one’s expected much from you, have they?” Neteyam’s words were venomous, malicious, and Tala bristled at them. What just happened, how poisoned was he to take her words like that? She pursed her lips, she really shouldn’t lower herself down to his level.

“Says the vrrteps’ amazing experiment. You're a wonderful little trophy for them, aren’t you?” She bit back before thinking and Neteyam glared, his nose twitched.

“Not as much of a trophy as you are. Prison must already be torture for you, you’re so used to just sitting still and smiling, and being fed well for it.”

Tala’s smile became saccharine and she raised to her tiptoes. This asshole-

“Aw, I’m honored the strong and mighty would be-Oloeyketan finds me desirable, it’s truly an honor. I’m sorry, I’m too busy smiling so I won't be able to immediately grovel at your-”

The way Neteyam smirked and puffed up his chest arrogantly made her stop dead. He tilted his head condescendingly. She sensed her mistake.

“Go on, little toy. Finish that sentence.” He taunted. Her face soured.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Tala replied scathingly, returning his smile.

Neteyam cupped her ass tight and it made her let out a high-pitched squeal. She flushed deeply and bit her lips into an ashamed frown and he laughed meanly. He eyed her lips, still red and swollen and he licked his own.

“Yes, do mind the drool.” She quipped and he rolled his eyes. He flicked the shower off and then again manhandled her in his arms and she screamed.

“Stop picking me up!!” Her head swung downwards and she almost thought he was going to drop her on her head and really kill her until she just hovered over his half-hard cock. She could see it twitching to life and she stared.

“You are so-nng~!” Tala moaned weakly when Neteyam licked a flat stripe against her pussy lips, blood was rushing to her head. Neteyam encircled his taut muscles around her waist and proceeded to bury his mouth into her hot cunt, already leaking juices.

Tala grabbed onto his thick thighs for support, only brushing her face closer to his hard cock. Whether or not she sucked it, he found that didn’t care. He just wanted to suck her sensitive flesh and juices, envelop himself in her spicy and sweet perfume and listen to her babble stupidly for his tongue.

Her embarrassment afterward was always an added bonus.

Slick was trickling down her ass and her belly as he feasted, massaging and twisting his tongue inside, sucking at her clit. Her pussy fluttered and spasmed, Tala’s strangled moans bounced against the tiles. She needed something, anything to hold onto-

Neteyam lip’s stuttered a groan when he felt her warm mouth enveloping his cock. He chuckled softly on her sensitive bud, vibrations making her mewl and her thighs twitch around his head.

“Such a good toy f’me.” He husked, then returned to his meal. It was even harder to breathe like this but Tala drooled at how her throat convulsed around his hot shaft. Every time she needed to take a breath her tongue swirled around the fat head of his cock, her fingers bumping against themselves as they massaged every ridge firmly.

The blood was getting to her head and her legs were feeling numb but Neteyam’s tongue only dug deeper and sloppier into the sensitive and gummy walls. 

Tala panted quickly, her thighs started tensing up, she was so close so unbearably close-

Neteyam gave a final suck at her clit and withdrew his mouth from her puffy pussy.

The wholly needy whine that came out of Tala’s mouth was so unrestrained he almost felt bad for her. Almost.

He let Tala down, laying her whole body on the floor, and stared satisfactorily at her trembling body. Tala was not thinking straight otherwise she would’ve stopped herself from backing her ass up against his cock, mewling desperately.

He thumbed at her throbbing pussy languidly with a smile, he found it cute how tightly it was milking his thumb.

“Nete-please!” Tala begged, her pussy aching to be filled, begging for a release.

“I think I’m tired of playing.”

Tala huffed, she knew that was a fucking lie, looking at how rock-hard his cock was. She brought her knees up and reached between her legs, still giving Neteyam a good view.

“Then you can watch.” Tala growled heatedly and plunged her own fingers into her weeping pussy, holding eye contact. Her fingers would be just enough, her other hand furiously rubbing at her clit.

She never broke eye contact, eyelids drooping as she panted and moaned without reservation.

He wasn’t expecting this, it was unmistakably hot and he started pumping his cock in rhythm with her fingers.

They kept moaning as they watched each other writhe in pleasure and finally Tala’s eyes rolled back and she came so hard her body stayed rigid. Neteyam came in time, hot streaks of his cum decorated her ass and back, another pretty picture.

Her thighs trembled and Tala’s body collapsed, her fingers slipping out. They breathed hard for a few moments before she disturbed the short peace.

“Enjoyed the show?” She said weakly, her giggles made Neteyam’s ears twitch.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself more.” He quipped back.

“Mm, just admit you were captivated.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You were impossibly captivated? You just like me so much, don’t you?”

Neteyam voted internally to ignore her as he carelessly cleaned himself, barely helpful to Tala, and threw the already used towel once he was done with it at her face. Her squawk of indignation managed to quirk a smile on his face.

Once both were clothed and dry enough, Tala opened her arms at him, still situated on the bathroom floor. He furrowed his brows up, somehow she always created new ways to confound him.

“I can’t walk.”

Neteyam looked at the mischievous swaying of her tail and growled. He had decided he had had enough of Tala for the day. He didn’t even realize he had already picked up the Tawkami girl over his shoulder and carried her down the halls. Oh, she resisted at first, yelled and struggled, but by the time they reached the prisons she had begrudgingly fallen silent.

The guards stood at attention when they spotted Neteyam.

“Sir, Corporal Tom, sir.” They said, recognizing the prominent Recom soldier instantly. He basically deposited Tala onto one of them.

“At ease. Return this one to their cell.” His voice resumed its usual coldness, but Tala gritted her teeth, she could hear his smug undertone. She was annoyed but unsurprised, a least he carried her

So Tala kept her mouth shut even as the guards shoved her back into her cell, kept it shut as she fumed on the cold floor and slowly fell asleep, and kept it shut until the next time she had to return to inspection.

His ailment confused her and the rupture in his memories worried her even more. But there was nothing she would be able to do for him, he obviously needed someone more attuned to Eywa, a Tsahik, Kiri.

It was not her destiny to save Neteyam, and she doubted he wanted any anyways.

–

A couple of weeks passed with more or less little fanfare. Every few days or so, more samples would arrive in the lab and she’d report in, inspect, and identify and every so often mess around with Hanson and the other tawtutes. It was fun to see his face turn red and the glass of his exo-pack steam up as he sputtered.

She couldn’t exactly swipe any plant materials, but little bits of metal wires, paperclips, and loose scrap metal went by unnoticed. All she gave to Orlek’an to fashion whatever she wished. Tala thought it would be maybe hair trinkets, come to find out instead the Anurai na’vi made darts.

She was only slightly offended she hadn’t seen Neteyam since that day, but neither had she seen any other Recombinant soldier. It didn’t even matter anyways, the RDA dreamwalkers were strangely hesitant approaching her now.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. We’ll call for you again once we gather more samples.” He said simply and Tala acknowledged it with a glance his way. Hanson grumbled and spoke. “Patty, please get her out of here. And call R&D techs, this thing is driving me crazy.” The tawtute waved around the translator and Tala couldn’t stop the slight grin.

“Will do, get some rest Dr. Hanson.” Patty said and Tala slowly stood up from her seat with a sigh.

Her head snapped up. Tala smelled something alarming, txumpaywll root with notes of cinnamon. Innocuous for adult na’vi but paralyzing for a child, and she basically considered a human adult’s immune system to be that of children.

“Stop!” She shouted, her eyes searching wildly for the source. The two tawtutes who were always in the back froze, tongs loosely holding a large pod.

“What are you on-” Hanson tried to shout at her but she gasped. The microseconds dragged as she watched the seed pod slip away from the tongs’ grip and–

It was too late, a plume of sickly green smoke erupted from the beaker, and within seconds the entire room filled with the sleeping gas. Tala covered her nose and mouth, the Tawkami built up their immunity towards drugs like this. She heard Patty coughing and the tawtutes gasping, their exo-packs were not meant to filter this.

She bounded towards the beaker and dumped the solution in the chemical sink, getting rid of the source but the gas was already in their lungs. Tala cursed, her eyes darted for anything, healing roses, fpomron leaves, something fast. Something in the back of Tala’s mind creeped up to the surface, she didn’t need to save any of these tawtutes. They worked to destroy Eywa, not just study it.

Tala looked at the scientists, looking pale and gasping for breath despite their exo-packs and hazmat suits being intact. Patty’s avatar was on the floor, slumbering peacefully. She cursed loudly, Great Mother she was an alchemist not a warrior!

The Tawkami acted quickly, grabbing at plant matter and dried samples from the cabinets. She used the handle end of the stun baton to crush and grind them, creating inhalants. Scooping them in a petri dish Tala swiftly brought it to the two scientists on the floor.

“Smell!” She barked at one before removing their exo-pack slightly, shoving the petri dish to their face. She mimed the action on her own face and the tawtute followed suit, Tala reinstalled the mask and moved to the next one.

By the time the Tawkami got to Hanson, he was already fully unconscious and she expertly puffed the inhalant up his nostrils, used to doing this for ailed children.

The mechanical doors opened and revealed a shorter woman with a blond ponytail wearing an exo-mask and two Recombinant soldiers.

“Stop right there!” She screamed, Tala faltered. Patty? A second after she resecured Hanson’s exo-mask she was kicked off of him by a Recom and she yelped in pain.

When she hit the ground Tala tried to explain but her wrist cuffs activated and a painful crash of lightning coursed through her body.

“Stop…stop!” A scientist from the corner called out and Patty nodded. The cuffs deactivated and the Tawkami’s body was left jerking erratically and stiff on the lab floor.

When she looked up she saw a vaguely familiar face, Corporal Halloway? He smiled and she committed his name to her personal curse list.

Her vision was darkening fast, she could see the tawtute Patty run towards Halloway and yell something, another hazmat-suited scientist started shouting.

As Tala closed her eyes, a whiff of sunlillies tickled her nose. Surely not. Wouldn’t it be just rich for him to arrive and watch her convulse on the floor, he’d probably have difficulty holding in his glee.

She took one last breath before everything became dark. Was that… blood?

Tala hated the smell of blood.

tag list: @xylianasblog @itchaboi-itchyboy @hotdsworld @pandoraslxna @luvv4j4ybe11 @neteyamsyawntu @akoyaxs @whatevenisagrapefruit @teyamsatan @justcaptiannoodles @theblueflower05 @neteluvr @neteyamssyulang @plooto @hao-ming-8 @teyamsilly @vivid-ink

#doodle #smut #avatar way of water #neteyam sully #recom neteyam #avatar fic #fic #avatar 2 #female oc #sorry it took a while! #experiencing tech difficulties #and also writing difficulties #writing is hard

[chantsdemarins]

🏰Breath of the Æsir {Loki X Fem.Reader} Chapter 3: Stories Cannot Burn or Disappear

I am so sorry these chapters are taking me so long. I haven't been the same since Covid! I hope the quality is still good...Thank you for joining my crazy medieval AU Loki fever dream era.

There is a bit of Easter and eclipse magic wound up in this chapter!

Summary: Loki isn't the only one who thinks you are more than a human woman, which buys you time while you figure out how to keep your manor and tenants safe. However, the challenge of nursing a debilitated, power-stripped god adds a layer of complexity to your already daunting task, clouding your judgment when clarity is most needed.

Note to Reader: Yes, Hozier is now a character, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you 😭 But which character will he be? Guess and comment!

Passion and Romance Meter: Nothing explicit yet but hopefully you feel it boiling.

I hope these people don't mind being tagged! I thought you might want to be tagged! Please let me know if you don't want the tag or if you want to be tagged. Also comments and reblogs are healing and joyous for me!

@arcielee @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @thomase1 @mcufan72 @caffiend-queen @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @sailorholly @lokisgoodgirl @shambelle97 @lokischambermaid @eleniblue @smolvenger @wheredafandomat @hiroyukinasukawa @meowmeow-motherfucker @latent-thoughts @buttercupcookies-blog @lcolumbia1988 @soulpiercing @wolfsmom1 @mysticmarvelfan

@holdmytesseract @superficialdomina @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @mjsthrillernp @arcielee @poetic-fiasco @gruftiela @thegodofnotknowing @thedistractedagglomeration @tallseaweed

@dangertoozmanykids101 @jennyggggrrr

The clay soil in your husband’s land hadn’t fully absorbed the blood of the Christian god. Not yet at least. The claustrophobic land was hemmed by bogs and marshes, lowlands with the familiar wooden gods made from branches poking out of the muddy banks. The tides to the east would fill the saturated earth till she could take no more before becoming a lake. This system of pooling respiration created a natural barrier for the people. The stillness of the water meant you didn’t stop for long, just enough time to plant your wooden god or light a beeswax candle, burn some leaves as an offering, and then find fast footing across the rickety log bridges built by people no one could remember.

In spring, a carpet of blue wood betony would appear. The town's folk's talk led you to forage it, keeping the blossoms and stems in dark Roman glass, tucked on the kitchen shelf next to the salt. Your husband never noticed your collection, or if he did, he never mentioned it as anything particular or strange. It was a relief to find plants that grew elsewhere, unlike the state of the manor land — high on a hill, flanked by rocky, sandy soil. Collecting plants often made you wonder if Christ might rise from the bogs. You'd just have to wait and see, you supposed, imagining Christ emerging naked from the thick peaty waters, stray herbs clinging to his torso.

Perhaps when Loki showed up, bleeding from his stomach, you'd envisioned something like that before. That desert man had a different name, Jesus of Nazareth. You blushed at the thought of any man, holy or common.

Yet, you didn't blush much while sewing Loki back up. Stitches plunged down his torso into places you'd only seen hinted at on the marble body of Jupiter in Eboracum. Your confident needlework proved itself. If your cheeks reddened, it wasn't from embarrassment but from lack of oxygen, struggling to breathe. Saving a life required haste, much different from the crafts of passing time.

The day the Northmen came you had been already struggling to breathe, you’d lost your air completely and found Loki’s form in front of you when your eyes finally opened again. His hair like ash from the hearth, his eyes the most peculiar color of blue, much like the betony in your waiting Roman jars. Just where had you gone when you’d lost your air? Loki had refused to confront the Danes, refused to fight them. He had handed you back his weapon, leaving you to confront the invaders yourself.

After all, you became a manor wife because your origins had burned in your village's fire, but not in the stories that followed. Stories cannot burn or disappear, especially when people fleeing tell them to the right people in the countryside. Your husband's family had heard your father's tales and believed him. Your hand in marriage was worth more than any dowry. It was all the more disappointing when you couldn't produce an heir or embroidery, and the manor lands remained sandy, rocky, and haunted. You hadn't known a husband should stay close or lie with his wife until Elinor finally told you. Your confidence to heal a stranger, to meet the Northmen at their boat, came from your father. He told you who you were, and like the manor people, you believed him — even if you didn't understand what you were.

The sky had darkened as you came to the mahogany longship anchored next to the wind-ravaged cliffs. You knew to avert your eyes from the mast, the Northern dragon guardian was designed to kill folk such as you. A provocation to your ancestors. There was confusion at their camp, what seemed like hundreds of men were pointing above and shaking their heads. A seer had cast the runes, and the chieftain seemed to not like what the seer had spoken. The rugged man looked up at the sky once more and sent what looked like an envoy to you. He blamed the Norns and you in yet another language you didn’t understand. He could not kill you because it would only curse them more.

Stunned, your trembling hands clutched Loki's blade in disbelief. You ran beneath the still darkening sky, which seemed poised for rain, though no clouds were visible. Looking up, you saw something unimaginable. A planet had fully eclipsed the sun. Your people knew of these events, but you had not witnessed one yourself. As you ran you wondered if the land's spirits had cast a powerful enough curse to scare the Northmen.

Returning home, you found only Loki in the makeshift courtyard, fever-ridden, slumped over the fence. Your heart sank, fearing he was actually dead this time. But the breath of the Æsir still moved through him, you could see his chest moving as you approached.

The village was silent, its people hiding. The only sound was the wind stirring the grain fields and the oak leaves in a dry, papery rhythm. Loki beckoned you inside but he was barely able to move to the porch, he was already worried you’d absorbed too much of the darkness. You fell into his arms, wincing from the feel of his fevered skin through your shift. Significantly taller, Loki's limbs resembled a freshly felled hawthorn. You dragged him closer to the front door, you both were exhausted in the strange day of night.

Your efforts paused for a moment, you readjusted your grip on the stranger. "Saturn is passing over the sun, an eclipse," Loki murmured, breaths faint and labored. How did he know this? Such knowledge was native only to your people. Still reeling from scaring off the Danes, you now faced an eclipse. Loki speculated on the Northmen's possible interpretation of the event. Since much of their knowledge came from his world, he felt he knew exactly what they must have felt seeing the sky darken as you approached.

"They saw the eclipse as a sign of your power. They recognize planetary transits. As you approached them, Saturn crossed the sun's path, a coincidence perhaps in your favor," Loki continued. "But they'll return, and we need to be ready," he cautioned, aware of your mutual defenselessness. He felt responsible for the deaths across these isles, seeking balance, an unfamiliar concept.

You had wanted him to stay long enough to know who he was but now it appeared like he wasn't well enough to be able to leave, even if that is what you both wanted. The truth was, part of you didn't want him to go at all. There was something about him. He knew some of the old ways and where ever he had come from, you suspected again, he had once held a high status.

Loki also continued to contemplate your shared fates. Did the Norns truly allow for this meeting between you as part of the path of the raven’s wingspan, his destiny as a god with no power. He dared to speak to you some of his true thoughts. He felt he owed you some kind of explanation for his resistance to fighting on your behalf.

“Lady, I wish I could help you but as you see I am unwell from my wounds. When I heal, I would like to help you defend your home as part of my thanks, I will find a way to do that does not involve fighting. We have the cosmos on our side it seems, so perhaps there is more luck for our coming together. This is of course if you will continue to have me.”

His pale face seemed even more ghastly, and he laid his body on the porch in a heap, looking very similar to how you first found him. You felt a tenderness stir. You’d felt it for him when you were saving him but now it was tinged with worry for both of your lives and everyone who depended on you.

“Loki I don't want to heal you twice, but it seems this is my fate. Let’s see what you have within you still and if your Gods are listening. I expect you will tell me why you refuse to fight or why you cannot. You owe me the truth. There is much you are not saying.”

He knew he would not be able to hide himself from you as you seemed unable to hide yourself from him. The circumstances unfolding seemed like the actions of reverse spells, instead of concealing they were revealing who you both were. This was vexing to you both.

Despite his sincere words to you, Loki was not sure this troubled land was his final destination. He wondered if he should try and leave as soon as he was able. He was speaking with two tongues. Perhaps he should venture south, go to the Midgard places where panther Gods and pyramids covered in gold existed. Those people were said to do the bidding of the gods with even more ferocity than the Northmen.

Instead, he was sick with fever and stuck with a mysterious, beautiful, and angry woman, whose husband could return at any moment and kill him for what it looked like was happening, even in the middle of a possible invasion. Suddenly his reverie broke as you lifted his shirt to inspect his wound. Your worry for his fever could wait no longer.

"Lady," he said as he batted your hand away.

You protested back, “I have seen you already, why would you be shy now stranger? I need to check your wound, you are feverish,” you continued to pull up his shirt. His gash had indeed become weeping and likely the source of his fever. Whether you liked it or not, you were healing him once again it seemed.

“Wood betony, that is what you need, you are lucky I have some. I’ll see to it Elinor makes you a poultice, and then I am putting you in one of the downstairs bedrooms.” Your eyes were worried even if your words were not. Loki placed his weakened hand on your shoulder, and spoke solemnly, “You know, we need to find your husband.”

You turned your face from him, you didn’t want Loki to notice even the smallest bit of feeling.

“Of course, that is a good idea, this is his manor and his people after all,” you replied. “We can leave when the fever breaks and you can walk without me carrying half your weight,” there was the slightest tinge of playfulness in your words to your surprise. You hoped he did not notice.

As the day was moving into evening, the villagers whispered their suspicions about the stranger you aided. The darkened sky had unsettled them as much as the Northmen. Loki was right, without your husband the manor would devolve into chaos and this would leave the village even more vulnerable.

You watched Loki slowly drag his body to the downstairs bedroom and close the thick doors behind him before you had the chance to redirect him or wish him a good night. You thought better to tell him that he had gone into your husband’s bedroom not the servant’s quarters you had intended for him to rest.

You felt your stomach twist in knots. If your husband came home tonight the wrong impression you worried you would make, would surely be inevitable. You would have to go and move Loki once you were done with your chores. A prospect that left you even more anxious.

Finally, when everyone had gone to sleep and Elinor had gone to her quarters, you stood alone in the empty house contemplating what you should do next. Sleep seemed an impossibility. The eclipse had only been five minutes, but it disturbed the entire day. Now it was nearly midnight and it felt like morning. All time had shifted somehow. Loki sleeping in your husband's bedroom loomed in your head.

To quiet your thoughts you found yourself in the kitchen, sometimes cooking felt relaxing even if you were not good at it. Instead tonight you eyed the row of bottles on your shelf. There was something else calling to you. You grabbed a jar of mistletoe berries, and held them in your hands. Their color was startling.

Suddenly you busying yourself muddling them with the mortar and pestle. If there was a recipe to follow you did not know it, you pulled a few more bottles off the shelf and added the ingredients. Mullein leaves and blackberry.

Pausing for a moment you felt that Loki’s knife was still around your body, you had placed it in a leather holder diagonally across your chest, and forgotten it was there. The knife passed over your breasts and you couldn’t help but touch the length of it.

You hadn't the time to have paid much attention to it before. You noticed the unusual, rich craftsmanship. The inlay was extraordinary. Garnets and chrysoprase. You then gently pulled it out of the holder and carefully pricked your finger with the impossibly sharp tip. This action surprised you.

You inhaled deeply. Crimson blood rolled down your finger and into the stone mixing bowl. You placed your still bleeding fingertip into your mouth hoping to quickly stem the bleeding, but the knife had been too sharp, or you cut yourself too deep.

Quickly, you sucked the wound, blood filling your mouth. You spat the excess into the bowl and placed it on the windowsill, intuitively sensing it needed the moonlight. Just then you heard a deep voice behind you. You were frozen in place, unable to turn around. It was Loki.

"I had no idea you were a seer, you could have told me that sooner and it would have cleared things up," his words rich with sleep and something else.

When you finally turned around you saw he was only wearing his leather trousers and the poultice. Your heart produced a wild, unfamiliar beat, and you steadied yourself against the kitchen table. You weren't a seer, but you could not explain what you were just doing or what you were now feeling.

Before you could stop him, Loki took your mixture from the sill and drank it. "My gods what have you done?" the startled words fell out of your mouth as he placed the now empty bowl back into your hands.

#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fandom #loki fluff #mcu #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki art #loki fan art #medieval 🏰 loki #medieval fanfic #norse paganism #norse mythology #norse pantheon #norse gods #anglo saxon #druids #loki x you #loki fanart

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

Leona and the team travel again, and more and more interesting situations arise.

Hello!

I noticed that with all the upheavals in my life, I can safely upload approx. every two weeks, so I'll stick to that! :D

I don't have a separate Trigger Warning for today's chapter!

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeorm I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeorm

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Seventeen

......................................

The small room is enveloped in motionless semi-darkness, and only the flickering lights of the machines resting next to the bed paint the two figures clinging to each other on the patient's bed into a neon-colored rainbow. And although their faces now finally radiate peaceful calmness, as they rest in the whiteness of the sterile bedding, they look more like plants floating on the edge of death, intertwined with their dry branches as a last refuge. Yet, despite their almost painful weakness, the aura mixed with terror that reigned over them seems to be easing at last, which was ingrained in each of their cells like an ineradicable illness.

And as I look at the crumpled bed on the other side of the room, I can read from the wet stains on the pillow that the boy probably woke up from a bad dream and sought solace from the woman. It's not surprising that he chose close proximity instead of comfort, because, in the many horrors he has experienced so far, his older companion has been his protector. Perhaps she anchored him in reality now as well, when he floated, writhing in tears, on the border between the bitter images of the realm of dreams and this world. And a rather bitter taste invades my tongue when it occurs to me, that it cannot be ruled out that he will suffer in this temporary nightmare for the rest of his life. Stuck in the middle of painful memories and fleeting safety.

Because I'm dead sure that the government won't let two very young Healers, whom they can squeeze out a few more years of service from, go to waste. No leader will let them take early retirement, even if they die while serving the Hunters. This system isn’t kind to anyone, especially not to those who, according to the authorities, were born to serve. And even though it's better for everyone if a Hunter stays sane and doesn't slaughter everyone in their path if they run out of energy, it doesn't change the fact that, as per the current state of the world, there isn't even time for people to mourn their traumas.

And this thought weakens the contentment purring inside me, which I experienced last night with the help of my clever ability. Because my little action seems infinitely futile as I watch them. I treated all their wounds, and all traces of the pain they suffered disappeared from the tissues, but every minute they spent in the dark little hole where they were pushed into lives just as vividly in their minds. And neither my energy, nor that bastard's pitiable death, nor time will cure this. I doubt that any of them will ever recover, and I can only hope with the utmost benevolence that they lose their sanity and wither in a lab for the rest of their lives, high on medication. That would be the slowest but most merciful death that life could give them. 

I must be quite deeply immersed in my thoughts, because I only notice that a tall figure casts a dark shadow on me, when he settles next to me in front of the window of the small ward and joins me in my silent observations. I don't need to look at Riley to know the expression on his masked face, because the barely suppressed rage that emanates from him when he glances at the pair hiding in the small, dim room almost stings my skin. And my mind, buried in resignation, has the strength to feel pleasure for a minute at his agitation, for it soothes my soul in a sick way, that, despite the fact that his kind doesn't need to fear such horrors, I still see the glint of anger in the dark eyes of his reflection. This gives me some faint relief from the gnawing doubts that snake into my bones, which have burrowed deeper and deeper since yesterday with such insidious efficiency as worms feasting on corpses. Because I can't get rid of the image of the terrified faces of the two Healers, and in those few passing hours, when I was finally able to close my eyes, I saw myself in the dirty corner instead of them.

"What did Price say?" I speak up suddenly, diverting my thoughts to safer ground, because the further development of our mission seems a much more pleasant topic than discussing the future of the two poor souls shrouded in doubt, or reviving the damned delusions of my brain. And even though I don't look away from the seemingly peaceful scene unfolding before me, I can see him examining me inquisitively, as if he would be searching for something in my expressionless features. And he must have found it, because even though I can bury my emotions expertly, even my persona created for denial cannot hide from his trained senses.

"Laswell looked the thug up." He finally answers, and whatever was going on in that mysterious mind of his, he goes into the game of ignoring my strange behavior without comment. And I'm immensely grateful for the fact that he is able to turn to duty so quickly, because no matter how much my mind is occupied by the miserable fate of my two fellow colligues, our mission is more important. Now only my subconscious and I should be on the same page about this. "We're leavin' tomorrow." He informs me, stating a certain fact, and I just glance at him curiously from the corner of my eye. Laswell works faster than the devil, and it looks like she hasn't let us down now either. Even though we only had a name and a colony in our hands, which could have been too little to be able to move on with our pursuit. But our station chief's nose is much sharper, and she picked up a hot scent again at such a pace that belies the fact that she is just a simple human. And the knowledge that tomorrow I can finally leave this cesspool, and all this dreadful moment will be an unpleasant experience lost in the mist of the past, selfishly calms my mind. Because I don't want to face why I want to leave the two Healers so enthusiastically and forget about what will happen to them.

"Are they coming with us too?" I continue to inquire, raising another important question, which, although less intensively, but with sufficient enthusiasm, strains my skull. Because the two short days I spent in the company of our new teammates helped to plant the seeds of suspicion and foreboding in my mind enough to make me prefer to part ways with them, even if that would mean the loss of their help. There wouldn't even be a problem with Horangi, but König... he's a different story. And I don't just want to keep him away from my friends, because I'm secretly afraid that they work together like a ticking time bomb, and it's only a matter of time before they have a punch-up due to their incompatible personalities with Riley. There is something inherently dangerous about the hooded Hunter that clings to his every cell like a bloodthirsty demonic presence. It was already difficult for me to decipher the masked man, but König is a completely new kind of riddle, and I'm not sure that I want to know what is hidden under the dark textile. I have a gut feeling that if I dip even one toe into this shallow, murky mystery, the monster lurking in the bottomless swamp will grab me and drag me under. But despite my vivid imagination, my rational side is perfectly aware that I need to observe just enough to be able to read him and know what he and his little companion are up to behind the scenes. Because they are most certainly not so willing because of their good heart and conscience.

"Shepherd won't let us go without his dogs." The Hunter notes curtly, and based on his tone it's clear that even without saying it, he understood whom I was aiming at so skillfully. The edge of disdain moves into his deep voice, which has been lurking under the surface ever since we were drawn here by the clues given us by Valeria. And although I know the kind of self-restraint and discipline the man possesses, it's still impressive how effectively he can rein in his temper, even though his colleague's behavior made it a difficult task for him on several occasions. They cooperate with us with perfect professionalism, but they make sure, with small and sly signs, that we know that, thanks to the old shit, we are not in control here. Our little adventure yesterday made this very clear.

"How surprising." I remark dryly, and I don't even try to make the words crawling on my tongue a little less sarcastic, because I know that my cynicism now finds a match in my partner. Shepherd wants to keep us on a short leash through the two Hunters, and I'm pretty sure it would only take one wrong move to make the kindness of our new helpers disappear like a mirage in the desert. But it's even more likely that the old bastard will wait until we smooth this little nuisance out for him, and then he will get rid of us. That would be very clever, and would give a good reason why the two mercenaries are coming with us. In light of this, we not only have to get hold of the serum and be careful with the mutants, but we also have to keep a watchful eye on when they stab us in the back. Wonderful.

"You shouldn't have come to the interrogation room." Riley deviates from the thread of our conversation, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't expect him to bring up my little incident sooner or later. It's a fact that it would have made a much better impression on our hosts if I hadn't poked my nose into their business, and perhaps if anger hadn't burned inside me like an inferno, I would have been able to think clearly and stay away. Undoubtedly, it would have attracted less attention, and it's also likely that even without my intervention, they would have found the bloody method that would have made that scumbag want to spill every last bit of info he had. The secret of my little abilities would also have remained under wraps, which would still give me a trump card in case one of our hired babysitters decided to help me cross over to the other world. But the icy hatred that closed its teeth around my insides injected a poison into me, causing a red fog to descend on my mind that I was unable to fight against. And to be honest, I didn't want to.

"I'd argue with that." I retort dispassionately, and I still don't meet his gaze, the weight of which now almost suffocates me. Although our relationship has fallen into something quite attractively complicated, I know that when it comes to work, he knows no joke. And it occurs to me that he might want to scold me now because I wasn't able to do what was expected of me again. And I would like to warn him well in advance, before he can even delve into his disciplining, that no one forbade me to interfere even with a fucking word. Horangi's feeble attempt was more of a less-than-enthusiastic warning than an actual command. If he was serious, then he would have easily arranged it so that I could not barge into the interrogation room. Because he could have killed me with one move.

A frightened whine penetrates the noise of the chirping machines in the ward, and as I see the half-asleep boy moving closer to the woman, who just begins to draw soothing circles through the blue material of the hospital nightgown on his bony back, then the terrifying feeling that brought me to the container on swift legs rises again in me. There is no protocol or rule that could have stopped me then, even if my brain now knows that sitting on my pretty ass and waiting for the big boys to take care of the situation would have been the right thing to do. But I'm too stubborn for that.

"It was our task to find out what he knows."  The man states the truth flatly, and I only carefully divert my gaze from the Healers hugging on the sick bed to immerse myself in the inscrutable eyes of Riley's reflection. Because from someone who carries out his duties with such rigor and keeps to what is expected of him, I wouldn't exactly expect him to let my newest naughtiness pass without a word. Although I had already managed to avoid the retort that my misbehavior would have deserved once, I had saved his bosom friend by disobeying the order. But now, guided only by my own feelings, I charged into the middle of their party like a bull gone wild. Not that I mind for a minute.

"It took a long time. I sped it up." I offer the most acceptable reason, which I'm sure can soften the condemnation that might be camped in his mind. Because even though he knows that my terrible game was about much more than that, he can't argue with the fact that I forced out the answers that we were after much sooner than they could have achieved by beating him into a bloody pulp. And it's just an insignificant factor that I used specific tools, and the motivating force behind my actions is another completely negligible detail. The point is, that we got what we needed to continue our search for the serum. It's best for him and me if we leave it at that.

"You took revenge." He specifies simply, and even I'm surprised that there is no reprimanding weight behind his words. As if he had merely made a frivolous remark, rather than stating why I had so vehemently stormed in when they worked so diligently on their victim. But if his insight strikes me unexpectedly, my surprise quickly fades, because it's clear that he already knew why I was there when I crossed the threshold of the interrogation room. But instead of feeling ashamed for exposing my not-so-nice motives, the uncomfortable tightness in my stomach that hasn't really gone away since yesterday just flares up again. And as petty as it may be, I was filled with vengeance indeed when I laid my sly little hands on our prisoner, but I'm by no means such a noble soul as to refrain from it. This kind of meanness fits right into my repertoire of personality traits.

"Is it such a big deal?" I turn back to spying on the small room, because it's much easier to study the dark walls than to digest how effortlessly he can see through me. Of course, it's not that I have lost my mystery to him that bothers me, but rather the fact that I feel like a little kid caught doing mischief. Because from his tone it's like I did something completely wrong. Although I know that my approach was truly merciless, that dirtbag deserved every single moment of it. I don't care if what I have done is questionable, because as soon as I saw the desperation on that disgusting face swimming in tears and snot, my mood turned better in an instant. And if there was even a little justice left in the world, then all the wretches like this bastard would receive this punishment. What's wrong with such scum finally getting a taste of their own cruelty?

"No."  He breaks the short silence, agreeing with me almost too naturally, which is completely foreign from his mouth. Because this makes me unsure for a minute about why he brought up the whole topic in the first place. If it doesn't bother him that I took control and used my own little incentive, then what is his problem? "But you don't have to get your hands dirtier at all costs."  He adds, and I don't like the tone he puts into his voice at all, like he wanted to scold me. Which sounds bad coming from him, because we both know that while I may be a sneaky bastard, he doesn't need to go next door when it comes to brutality. We aren’t different in any way, and he shouldn't point out how unfeminine and not-so-delicate it is when I use these merciless tactics.

"There's enough blood on them anyway. A little more won't make a difference." I remark nonchalantly, keeping my eyes fixed in front of me with all my strength, because I'm afraid that if I look at the Hunter, I will glimpse something that my soul couldn't bear. I don't want to see his contempt or his superiority, because I don’t feel an iota of regret. This cruelty helped me through hardships all my life, I took what I needed to survive. If there was even a little less blood on my hands, I'd be lying there in that fucking bed right now, beaten, starved, raped and used. The only thing that kept me from this was that I immersed myself in the filth as deeply as was necessary, and my selfishness served me quite well. And if I have to drown in this infectious pool, I will.

But the movement comes completely unexpectedly, as one of his big hands finds my shoulder, and as his fingers gently tighten around the tensing muscles, I turn my head towards him with a starled shiver, because the tenderness in his touch reluctantly tears me out of the gloomy monologue going on in my head. And the way those brown eyes glance down at me makes my stomach jump instinctively, because the inscrutable flickers dancing there make the anger raging inside me fade away in a minute. The heat emanating from his palm pleasantly licks at my skin, which has cooled down due to the bitter rage, and brings my attention back to him so decisively from the chaos in my brain, as if he would be my anchor keeping me in reality.

"I know you're cruel. You don't have to prove it." He states, and his voice fades to a grumble, as he takes a small step to close the distance between the two of us. And as he leans down to me and his scent fills my nose like a familiar visitor, every nerve in my body is sharpened to what he has to say. "But you don't have to do it alone anymore." He declares, and with this one sentence, he dispels all the doubts that have nested in the hidden corners of my brain so far. And the realization that this is exactly why I wanted to leave the two Healers behind me tears into my mind. Because I saw in them the fate that could easily have found me too. I could have ended up chained and abused to the extreme, but instead, for all my selfishness and dishonesty, karma has led me to a place where I am treated much better than my background would justify.

And now here is Riley, who knows my worst side, has experienced firsthand the caustic sarcasm I can use to dig into other people's weaknesses with my words, and what evils my hands are capable of when my interests demand it. Yet knowing this, he offers that I don't have to walk this dark road alone, but willingly joins me. He doesn't expect me to leave behind my dubious methods accumulated over the years, he doesn't ask me to wash my hands clean. And because of this, something completely inexplicable awakens inside me, which simultaneously fills me with a pleasant warmth, which is followed by a hot trembling lightness that spreads through all the fibers of my being. And along with that, an icy fear creeps into the pit of my stomach, because the warning flashes in my subconscious almost immediately that I mustn't let this go. I can't waste this opportunity that fate has given me, because I'm not sure I could survive if I lost them.

And as a result of the realization, the invisible fingers of the tears spurred by the rising emotions gnaw into my eyes with almost painful force, but forcing the feelings down my dry throat, I just nod with a faint smile on my face. Because now I can see clearly. It takes shape in my head firmly that I'm willing to cling to the team, and especially to him with every drop of my blood, that this pledge almost burns into my brain.

⃰

The warm rays of the sun caress my naked arm peeking from under my shirt with deceptive peace, and as I leave the cargo deck hand in hand with my companions, and wade into the wild grass, the sweet scent of wildflowers fills my nose, and I allow myself to drink in the picturesque landscape for a minute. As if I had fallen into a dream, the meadow stretches to the edge of the horizon with such unimaginable calmness, where Nik so skilfully put down our plane, the soft noise of which is accompanied by the buzzing of bees and the chirping song of crickets as background noise. And at other times, this huge open space might make me nervous, where we are easy prey for the mutants who are stalking us, but behind the large building not far from us, the abundance of trees stretching to the sky cover us beneficially from at least one side. A real, hidden corner of paradise.

In other circumstances and in another life, this beautiful weather might even tempt me to have a little picnic in this undisturbed clearing that spreads out in front of our temporary accommodation. Of course, this would be a realistic idea if there was no chance that my idyllic pastime would be interrupted by a deformed monster or one of its humanoid friends, who would pay their respects with a slightly different kind of snack in mind. Although based on Price's information, the safe house might be located in the middle of nowhere, but it's just reassuringly close enough to the colony to be at a comfortable distance from any reckless beasts. Of course, the suspicion raging in my brain doesn't ease one bit, because, during my ever-longer mission, I already had the opportunity to experience what kind of horrors can be lurking behind such beautiful landscapes with watchful eyes. And most of the time they don't appear in the form of malformed animals, but take on a much more human face. Naturally, in this filthy place laced with death, we are still each other's greatest enemies.

"Good to see you're still alive!" A familiar voice interrupts my thoughts, and as I turn my head in the direction of its source, my dark little heart leaps with real joy. Because as soon as I see Garrick emerging from behind the battered door of the house, a definite line of a sincere smile crosses my face. And although it's barely been a while since I last had the good fortune to admire the Hunter's good features and even more pleasant aura, yet, in an almost disgusting way, my soul is relieved that amidst all the complicated misery, I finally have a familiar figure near me.

"We need more than that to bite the bullet!" MacTavish exclaims, and  he hurries forward grinning, so that when his friend is within arm's reach, he simply pulls him into a brotherly embrace enthusiastically, patting his back with the weights of the unspoken words of happiness in the small movement. It's no wonder that this meeting is so heart-warming, since every single mission is another chance for these happy moments to never happen again. And this is probably not the first party they got involved in, but in light of the fact that we are drowning deeper and deeper into unknown complications, even I can sympathize with the zeal of my two fanboys.

I don't have to wait long for the one person who is still missing from the impromptu celebration to show up, and as I recognize the well-known figure of Price marching out from the dim depths of the house, the fleeting feeling of absence that may have been present in me until now disappears. The man carefully studies us gathered in the field, and when his gaze settles on me after Riley, who is anchored next to me, and his beard-framed mouth curls up in a satisfied little smile, then my stomach jumps with excited joy with such ridiculous speed that it's downright disgusting. Still, it doesn't bother me for a minute that such crippling emotions rear their heads in my little soul, because I would be willing to do anything to never have to live without them.

"I've hoped this would be the case." Price also joins in our greeting, referring back to my Scottish friend's earlier confident statement with his small comment, as he comes close enough to welcome us. And when one of his big hands lands on my shoulder with the greatest naturalness and squeezes it gently, the pleasant warmth, that only the small team was able to revive in me for a very long time, spreads through all of my limbs following his touch. And I swear that an almost paternal pride shines in those bright eyes, as they survey my face, and I have to keep my cheeky superiority in my features with all my strength, because I don't want to get emotional in front of our audience just getting off the plane. "I've heard a lot of good things about you." He adds, and even though his praise is enough to awaken an impossible cheerfulness in me, but as his gaze meaningfully moves to the masked Hunter enveloped in silence, I understand to whom I owe this exceptional treatment. And because of this, I feel that the tremble in my stomach paints surprise on my face despite my will and all my attempts at indifference. I didn't think that it would be Riley who would so enthusiastically praise my performance to the boss, when earlier I had him to thank for the bright idea of my forest trip, due to which I almost got impaled by a mutant piggy. But this is enough for the hope in my head to push me even deeper into the embrace of my complicated feelings for him. Great.

And at that moment, Riley, who was already more wordless than usual, joins in the warm welcoming, and although he remains silent, he greets our leader with a firm nod. Others might not find his curtness particularly striking, but he cannot hide from the captain's eyes either. And I'm sure that Price also realized by reading his companion's body language that his stand-offishness is directed much more to the two mercenaries who approach us with lazy steps. Because it would be impossible not to notice the distant aura he puts on when he has to share the same space with his colleagues. And although this tense atmosphere made our plane ride excruciatingly long, considering the unique show we were treated to during our joint mission, the grumpy mood of the masked man doesn't seem exaggerated one bit.

Even though they close the distance between us with the silence of the predators lying in wait, I don't have to look back to know that our new companions have arrived at our small gathered group, because the tiny little hairs reflexively rise at my back as I feel that unmistakable gaze burning the back of my head. It was enough for me to look into those blue eyes once over the mangled body spread out on the floor of the interrogation room to know that the wisest thing to do was to ignore the existence of the hooded Hunter altogether. For although I don’t know to what, apart from his obvious interest in my kind, I owe that persistent attention with which he honors me every time we come into forced proximity, yet I'm sure that no good would come of entering into this dubious game. Whatever his purpose is by obnoxiously and shamelessly staring at me at every opportunity he gets.

Price is the one who, as a true leader, grasps the noble task of breaking the ice, and turns to the two mercenaries, straightening his back out with confidence. And although there is a diplomatic impassiveness on his face, and I might even detect a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, but my trained eyes catch the troubled wrinkles gathering on his forehead under the cover of the hat just in time before they disappear. It's rather cunning and tactical of the man to show his best face to those who might run to report to their master after his first questionable move, but despite his best efforts, the visible traces of suspicion remain in his gaze, with which he measures his colleagues up.

"Thanks for the help." The captain expresses his gratitude, and if he has doubts about the two men, it doesn't show in his voice for a minute. And although it's quite clear that he did this out of mandatory politeness, but even I'm impressed when he fixes his eyes on the hired Hunters with the keen attention of a hawk, as if he is trying to read even the smallest twitches, assessing every second how trustworthy the newcomers really are.

"We were paid well to do it." Horangi comments with complete calmness, and even though it was evident that the credits made them so willing until now, even I find it bold that he chirps out this little detail so casually. He doesn't even try to deny his motivations, and it can only happen for an infinitely simple reason, which helps my eyebrows furrow. The Korean Hunter and his no less pleasant companion are so carefree because they don't see an iota of threat in us, which would make them think it would be worth behaving more cautiously. Although under normal circumstances the goal would be for our group to be able to work together without stress, but it's quite obvious from the small, nonchalant little movement as the man cocks his head in interest that this isn’t the case. This is at least as humiliatingly belittling as it's irresponsible, and helps to spread the sparks of tension for a minute in the warm air swayed by the spring wind.

But as rapidly as the unpleasant atmosphere arrived, it dissolves as quickly, for MacTavish breaks the silence, loud with the buzzing of the beetles, that has set in, before my masked friend has time to act driven by the spark of irritation in his dark gaze. As he leaves Garrick's side and takes a few hasty steps closer to the captain, all eyes are suddenly on him, beneficially interrupting the storm that was no doubt slowly brewing.

"Did ya find out anythin' interestin'?" The Hunter with the mohawk turns the attention to the mission instead, directing our conversation in a much safer and more important direction. Despite his best efforts, no one moves for a couple of uncertain seconds, and even the blades of grass stand on guard, waiting to see if one of my buddies would like to test their skills against each other instead of working together, but in the end, it's Price who is the first to settle back into his composure with the impeccable nimbleness of years and routine.

"Maybe." The captain answers thoughtfully, and his gaze lingers on the two mercenaries before he nods toward our new shelter, inviting us inside. Whatever Laswell has dug up from the depths of yet another bottomless drawer, it's not a topic to be discussed in the open, and this sufficiently awakens my curiosity. "Let's go inside." And as he sets off towards the entrance of the safe house with quick steps, I'm the first to follow him, not only because instead of the tense atmosphere that slowly fills the peaceful meadow on the wings of the pollen blowing in the breeze, even the vague emptiness beyond the threshold is more inviting, but also because there are much more urgent problems scratching my mind than the struggle for dominance stemming from masculine vanity. The serum is what made us so beautifully wander to almost the other side of the world, and this very dangerous little vial of hell is why we crossed the ocean to visit another continent. The clever trick Shepherd will use to remove us from the uncertain variables is the problem of the future, which won't come if we don't concentrate on the task with all our focus. And it seems that after the fleeting intermezzo, the others come to this conclusion as well, because without further ado everyone heads towards our temporary headquarters too.

And despite the desolation of the building from the outside, as I cross the border of the house and the cool darkness embraces me, I'm greeted by a very well-maintained, almost homely interior. The gaudy stains on the walls preserve the old tasteful pattern of the torn wallpaper, and there is no doubt that a whole series of family photos could have rested on these eerie square patterns, which the residents might have taken with them in a hurry, in order to have a few memories frozen in the past peace, to which they can long to return to. And as I follow Price further into the uninhabited depths of the house, from the worn furniture forgotten behind and the child's toy lying in the corner, and from the curtain submitted to a slow rot I feel like I had trespassed into somewhere, where the faded ghosts of the late inhabitants still haunt, locked in the objects left behind. But I quickly suppress this short-lived unpleasant sensation, because if there is anything remaining here from the previous owners, it can only be a few bones and decaying scraps of clothing left by the victims when the beasts inevitably found them.

"What a nice place you got us." I note pulling the corner of my mouth into a grimace, and although my voice is noticeably laced with irony, considering the circumstances, the captain has managed to find a really impressive den, which is just right for us to hang out in for a few days. And even though my pretty little body is used to the puritanical comfort of the colony, but for once I'm willing to set aside the inconvenience that I might have to share my bed with ghouls.

"The credit is our helper's. The big guy gave us the coordinates." Garrick shares the information quietly as he catches up to me, and it's enough for him to nod behind with his head to let me know who he might be talking about from our new teammates. And the fact that the pleasant shack is thanks to König explains a lot. Up until now, it was obvious, based only on his rather strong German accent and even more German-sounding name, that he was not from an American colony, but the fact that he provided such accurate information about this safe house hidden in the desolate wilderness confirms that he was born somewhere in the area. And it's quite logical that a terrifying butcher like him started his later adventurous journey from one of the largest and world-famous colonies, because the mention of the name of the Hunter training center operating here fills even civilians with sufficient foreboding. And where else could such a burly giant have been trained into such an efficient killing machine than in Purgatory? It wasn't by chance that they gave it this apt nickname, because the miserable little kids who are dragged there endure such sufferings that, although they become "purified warriors", the few years they suffer there, leave a permanent mark on them. Or at least this urban legend is spread by word of mouth. But it's enough to just recall the bloodthirsty pleasure with which the hooded Hunter stomped someone to death, and it immediately becomes clear that there is perhaps a hint of truth in the rumor.

The captain finally ushers us into a spacious dining room, in the middle of which stretches an old table, where a myriad of documents and weapons are spread out, indicating that the man had just felt at home enough to get to work while he waited for us to join them. And although they got here with less than a day's lead, based on the scattered reports and papers, the two Hunters had enough time to review the important pieces of information, and perhaps even work out the beginnings of a plan to celebrate our arrival. If Laswell took swift action, then Price rivals this momentum, because as my eyes discover the map of the colony among the many pages, and the tangled chaos of streets and buildings highlighted on it in bright colors, I quickly understand that our leader wasn't lazy and must have already studied the field.

"Kate had a hard time with this. She managed to find out that the Rat is in the colony indeed and that his organization is involved in several businesses." The bearded man immediately jumps into the middle of the briefing, not wasting a minute, as we all gather around the table, and he skilfully pulls out a file, which he pushes to the center and opens in front of us. And when the picture of an unknown guy richly adorned with tattoos appears, it becomes obvious that our aforementioned criminal is staring back at us from the low-quality photo. "But he hides well, and no one finds him if he doesn't want it." He shares this not-necessarily positive development, and with this, he succeeds in planting an easily recognizable atmosphere of pessimism in the dim little room. Of course, we could guess that this bastard had to earn the nickname somehow, so it wouldn't be easy to get hold of him, but now we can't allow ourselves to start this search with uncertain assumptions. We need to find him quickly, but mostly immediately, because the clock is ticking, and with every minute we are getting closer to that damned poison finding a new owner.

"This doesn't make our job any easier." MacTavish voices some of the doubts in my head, and as his dark eyebrows meet with annoyance in a rather troubled grimace, it becomes quite evident that he had a similar train of thought in his head as I did.

"We have to get him before he sells the serum." Riley joins in as well, and although the seriousness of the situation should require my undivided attention, I can't help but acknowledge with satisfaction that he almost automatically lined up next to me, like a loyal shadow. And even this small detail can ignite excited little sparks under my skin, because his proximity is enough for all my senses to be painfully sharpened. And I have to forcibly divert my concentration back towards our discussion, because no matter how much I want to read every tiny movement of his face covered with a mask, now my useless brain has to deal with the analysis of bigger complications. Pull yourself together, Leona.

"If he doesn't come out on his own, we'll smoke him out." Horangi puts forward the rather radical idea, and leans comfortably on the table with folded hands on the other side, as casually as if we weren’t just trying to find the ever-cooling trail of a drug that leads to certain death. And I find his ease interesting, because I'm pretty sure that fat credits won't be of much use if the army of hybrids and their little minions overrun every corner of the surviving civilization. Because this tiny little suggestion would most certainly lead to that.

"It would be an irresponsible idea." I interject my comment, looking through the file that was probably dug up by Laswell, searching for anything that might narrow down where in this huge, bustling city we should start our search to find our criminal in the shortest possible time. And Price was really not exaggerating, the dude got his hands into almost everything from trading with weapons, to prostitution, to drug and human trafficking, so it's no wonder that his criminal organization weaves through the colony like a spider web full of decay. Because, except for the central sectors, where the centers of the official bodies are concentrated in each colony, areas where he has influence have been circled in bright red almost everywhere else. Fabulous.

"Scum like him is easy to catch. All it takes is force." König chimes in for the first time since our arrival, and as his voice resonates through the barren walls of the building, I also break out of my observations and shift my gaze from the piles of documents to the man with careful deliberation. And from the way he straightens up and stands out from our small group without the slightest uncertainty, it's clear that he sees nothing wrong with his idea full of violence. And although it's already quite obvious from this how they managed to find the weak link leading to the Vultures so amazingly quickly, this approach won't work now. Because it's the least of our problems that everyone is in a foreign land except him, but if our target is such an influential person that he has ears on every corner, then he will know that we are in his heels before we have a chance to touch him with a finger.

"If he finds out he's being targeted by Hunters, he'll take off before we can even get close to him." I explain this non-negligible factor, and as I firmly hold the unpleasant weight of his gaze fixed on me, I know I'm not imagining the curious glint in those ice-blue eyes. "That's why we're here now instead of the colony, I imagine." I add this detail almost as a side note, and I don't try to prevent cynicism from creeping into my voice, because I want this behemoth to know that no matter how menacingly he stares, he won't be able to force me to surrender. Especially not when I know I'm right. If it were so easy to track down that goddamn thug without being noticed, then Price would have been breathing down the dude's neck before our plane even touched the ground.

"She's right." Garrick agrees, his face involuntarily giving way to the helplessness that must have settled in his head, and which helps to plant the faint line of resigned wrinkles on his face. Without a doubt, he would have been the first to bring our target to us wrapped in a pretty bow if he had the chance to lay his deadly little hands on him. But it wasn't a coincidence that they arrived here first and waited for us, because this action requires much more caution than they can organize with their usual bloody techniques.

"But we can't just sit around and wait!" MacTavish argues, spreading his hands out passionately, thus effectively voicing the frustration that is probably slowly forming in everyone upon hearing our increasingly hopeless mission. But even though I can understand his powerless rage, we cannot run headlong into the wall, because at this point we risk the complete destruction of humanity with every wrong move.

"I agree with Woods on this. We can't act hastily. We need intel." Price affirms, his eyes scanning our small gathering meaningfully, silently signaling that although he would like to throw himself into the middle of action, even his experience cannot guarantee success right now. "Nik, can you help us?" He suddenly turns towards the entrance of the dining room, and I look back over my shoulder in confusion, because I could swear that we left our pilot at the plane. But as I see the man leaning against the doorframe with complete peace of mind, many questions arise in my mind regarding our friend, who until now was believed to be rather harmless. And judging by the fact that my companions aren't at all surprised that Nik was able to sneak up to us so unobtrusively, I have a very strong feeling that I quite misunderstood the guy. His remarkable ability to follow us without being noticed is only a negligible detail in addition to the fact that the captain turns to him to solve our predicament.

"I have a few contacts in Colony No. 2. I'll see what they know." Nik offers, with such a self-evident simplicity that deepens my suspicion that the man mostly plays pilot as a hobby, and pursues very dubious activities as a full-time job instead. Because there is no other logical explanation as to why he has contacts on another continent who hide deep enough in the underworld to help us. Very interesting.

"All right." Price gives his blessing to the proposed solution, and then immediately turns his determined attention back to our small team. "Until then, we'll wait." He shares our next step, and although I can feel that not everyone is filled with unclouded happiness by this development, he gets a nod of agreement from everyone, even from our mercenary comrades. "Let's rest. The last week has been busy." He adds in conclusion, now with a much softer tone, and the hoarseness of exhaustion settles in his voice, which he has been able to more or less successfully remove from himself so far.

As our two mercenaries take the opportunity without further comment and leave the scene of our meeting with comfortable steps, I have the opportunity to take a closer look at the face of our leader. And although for a fleeting moment, I still feel the scrutinizing gaze of the giant man on the middle of my back, I'm much more occupied by the very pale grayness that I now quite clearly discover appearing on the captain's skin. Up until now, it might have been the excitement of the trip that could divert my attention, but now I see the weariness dominating the features of the bearded Hunter, and in the semi-darkness surrounding the room, the circles under his eyes seem even darker. And as I shift my searching gaze to Garrick, I can make out the small gray veins running along his temple even from the cover of his cap, which can indicate only one thing. And after a quick calculation, my suspicion is confirmed, that I haven't been able to handle them with my clever little hands for weeks, and although they probably didn't have to use their ability extremely, stress can very effectively bring out exhaustion in them. Although my Scottish buddy and his masked bosom friend received a charge not so long ago, at the gate of our important little mission, a little boost won't hurt them either.

"By the way." I speak up suddenly, effectively drawing all eyes on me, and I take advantage of this to get around the table, strolling closer to Garrick, who looks the most worn out, and who only curiously raises one of his dark eyebrows, when I pull off the glove from one of my pretty little hands to hold it out towards him. "It would be time to regenerate you." I note, bringing a mixture of surprise and concern to the man's face.

"Won't it be a bit much?" He asks, his voice full of doubt, and I can't hold back the cheeky little smile that escapes my lips, because the way he peers at Price for help makes him look infinitely boyish. And I also know from this small confused gesture that it's only worry speaking, because there is no doubt that he doesn't want to strain my little body in the least by asking for my aid. But unfortunately, determination works much stronger in me than the dull grip of the slowly awakening hunger in my stomach, and I'm willing to go to painful ends if I can guarantee that the care with which they turn towards me won't disappear. And although this admission fills a part of me with the right amount of disgust and contempt, I just have to think about the fact they mean my safety, and I immediately manage to suppress these unwanted voices. Because thanks to the suffering of the two Healers, the motivation to feed my selfish desires with their attention lives much more vividly in my consciousness, as if I were pouring oil on an already insatiable fire.

"I'll survive it." I comment simply, and although I know that by charging four Hunters I will wake up the torturous hunger gnawing at my insides, this small nuisance seems bearable. Even knowing that it’s uncertain how I will get blood, because I'm sure, even if Price brought me a tasty treat, it won't alleviate my problems permanently. And I can only wildly hope that the power of the mouth-watering dinner given by Riley will last until I maybe manage to catch an unsuspecting fool in the colony to quench my thirst. But no matter how much these troubling thoughts arise in me, as Garrick's damp hand wraps around mine, and the first burst of my energy penetrates his body, then I feel the familiar pull of the demanding force, and I know I have made the right decision. Because my hunger is a negligible inconvenience, if I can guarantee they will be in top shape when it's needed most. Even if every single nerve in me cruelly warns me that this will have consequences.

⃰

The silence in the house echoes in my ears with painful loudness, and the creaking of the old floor under my boots screams in my skull in an almost ear-piercing way, as I drag my legs, which are growing heavier by the minute, toward the room assigned to me. I wasn't wrong in that the charging of my four companions would sufficiently flare up the well-known pangs of hunger twisting my insides, and although it doesn't besiege me nearly as strongly as last time, I feel that it's only a matter of time before the feverish agony hits me. And even though I don't regret for a minute that I was able to solve my team's problem, I have to get some food very soon, if I don't want to be the one who, weakened by hunger, hinders the mission. If I have a little luck, the captain has been kind enough to surprise me with a delicious morsel, which will be just enough to ease my suffering. And as soon as we wander into the colony, I make sure to catch some stupid criminal and refuel with nutrients, because I have a bad feeling in my mind that tells me that our deployment will take turns where it will come in handy if I'm in peak condition.

And as, lost inside the massive building, I finally reach the corridor on the floor where my temporary quarters rest, instead of being relieved, all my limbs fill with tension in a split second, because I discover someone who shouldn't be hiding here in the least. Because Price certainly planned it so that I would be given the one out of the dozen rooms which is farthest from our guests, in case they wanted to use my services. Although I don't think they would openly force me to regenerate them, in this dirty world even less deadly people are capable of horrible things, and it's even better to be careful with someone who can crush another's skull with their bare hands.

Certainly, he had already heard my steps when I was tramping up the rickety stairs, but now, as I approach him, König turns his head in my direction with leisurely calmness, and even this small movement is enough for caution to gain a foothold in my mind. I have already acknowledged the amazing size that genetics has blessed him with, but now, as he is surrounded by the faint light filtering through one of the broken windows, he looks more like a shapeshifting demon than a human being. And even though he's comfortably leaning his back against the worn wall, there's something quite unsettling about the way the fabric of his black uniform strains painfully on his arms, as his folded hands rest on his chest. Because he may seem perfectly harmless to an unsuspecting observer, but my paranoid mind warns that it's only an ephemeral illusion, and that an artificial peace resides in each and every inch of him. But I'm even more interested in why he's here, because I was sure that after our impromptu meeting, he and his friend went off to rest. And even if he has zero navigational skills, he couldn't have accidentally wandered in here, because their room is most definitely on the ground floor.

But no matter how much caution creeps into my limbs, I don't let any of it reach the surface, because it would be a mistake to show him the concerns he can arouse in me. I have just seen enough of his behavior to know that this operation is just as much about polishing his ego as material goods, and what could be a more tempting pastime for such a man, than to frighten a unique little thing like me. I saw the barely concealed fear in the eyes of his men during the mission, and it's quite easy to deduce from this what kind of respect the Hunter desires. The kind that makes the knees of the unfortunate person who stumbles in front of him tremble, and that makes him feel even more powerful. A pathetic but perfectly legitimate goal. After all, instilling fear is at least as effective a control strategy as gaining respect.

His bright eyes follow my every step with unbroken attention, as I walk closer, and from his gaze resting on me, I feel like a mistrustful small animal that approaches a larger predator in the hope that it will be merciful enough not to kill it. And although we are currently playing on the same team, nothing guarantees that this hunch of mine won't come true at some point in the not-so-distant future. Because, unfortunately, my observations and intuitions are very rarely wrong, and now every nerve fiber of mine screams that I'm dealing with a beast in the guise of a man who, if he could, would have wrapped his needle-sharp teeth around my throat a long time ago. And while in the case of Riley, I was sure that he rewarded me with his disdain for my not-so-appealing behavior, in the case of the hooded Hunter, I have no idea what could be causing this outstanding interest.

"Your team is unusual." He breaks the heavy silence that has settled between the desolate walls, and I just stop at a safe distance from him and raise one of my eyebrows curiously, because he starts the first direct conversation we have with a rather interesting remark. And with this one sentence, he succeeds in reminding me that the good life I experienced in the unit is a unique privilege, which normally my kind hardly ever gets. And while in most cases the Healers are kept away from all the nitty-gritty details of the actual deployments because they get more use out of them unharmed, it cannot be denied that the active role that my team so generously gifted me within the ranks of Unit 141 is quite unusual. And although I don't like the fact that he expresses his comments so freely, it's indisputable that as a stranger, and especially as a Hunter in a leading role, the dynamics of my team can be a real curiosity for him.

"If you think it's strange that I dare to speak in their company, then it really is." I answer with an unimpressed tone, trying with every cell to be able to keep my confidence. Although he still doesn't move from the wall, the way he stares at me with an almost abnormal immobility makes the goosebumps prickle on my back. As if every single muscle of his would be stuck in a deliberate frozen state, but my keen senses catch the tiny little movement as his fingers wrap a breath tighter around his biceps. And this simply gives the impression that he is forcing himself, against his nature, into a less threatening position than his instincts would like. Maybe my brain overthinks every little thing, but it's no coincidence that I honed my observational skills over the years. I see that something completely different lurks under the surface than what he lets on.

"This isn't common in many places." He states simply, but his remark doesn't throw me off in the slightest, because I'm also perfectly aware of this fact. That's why I'm so motivated to keep my place. "But Price seems to be a liberal leader." He notes almost only to himself, and his voice is full of fascination, as if he had just made a very profound statement. However, it bothers me much more, and it can suddenly turn my already sharpened mood into a more prickly one, when my clever little ears hear the breath of derision hidden in his tone. Others might not even notice it, or would attribute it to something completely insignificant, something that is not worth pointing out, but I have analyzed just enough people over the years to know that nothing is completely unconscious that is buried behind one's words.

And even I cannot explain the angry flame that kindles within me at the thought that this complete stranger is making such casual comments about the captain. Of course, I'm aware that Price is not an innocent virgin, nor a flawless saint who needs someone to protect his honor, but there is something viscerally infuriating about the way the hooded man turns to him with barely veiled criticism.

But, as the stagnant emptiness in my stomach tightens, I decide that I shouldn't engage in this conversation when my mind is dulled by the pull of hunger slowly coming to life. Nothing good will come of this irritation taking control of my brain, because I might say something that would give him a reason to leave behind his false peace and show what secret temper lies beneath the no less dangerous exterior.

"If you came here to provoke me, then don't waste your time." I sigh tiredly, and as the exhaustion screams in every corner of my body at the same time, I set off with renewed motivation towards the door, behind which the solitude awaits that I yearn for. "It won't work."  I add, not even sparing him a last look, my eyes strictly fixed on the worn wood that hides my shelter. And once again, I have to note that he didn't come here by chance, because out of the countless possibilities, he managed to settle down right before the entrance where I'm heading, with almost measured accuracy.

"I didn't mean to insult you." He says plainly, and it's quite disturbing that there is still no obvious emotion in his tone, which makes him seem much less human than my nervous system finds comfortable. His statement doesn't seem like a lie, but my impatience grows with each passing minute, because I can't figure out what the hell is going on here. I could think that he only wanted to forge closer unity between our teams, but then I would have to be much more naive. In that case, he wouldn't have waited to catch me alone and without any witnesses to see whatever he was planning in that mysterious mind of his.

"You want to befriend me, perhaps?" I inquire with a malicious little smile on my face, and the sarcasm that nestles in my voice stings even in my ears. And I know it's not the smartest idea to taunt a guy who can tear me to pieces with his hands, but that didn't stop me even when I was mouthing back to Riley. And my sharp little tongue won't go on vacation when the starved tension working inside me rages in my head. "How nice of you." I sprinkle at the end, considering the whole tense conversation as closed, because no matter what reason he strayed here for, I don't want to talk it out with him now, when we are all too alone. And even though carefree mockery shines from every cell in me, my hands wrap around the doorknob too quickly when I finally arrive before my room. Because he may still not move from the place he has occupied until now, but the threatening aura that emanates from him like some uncontrollable, poisonous gas almost gnaws at my skin.

But before I have the chance to finally disappear into my little cave, so that I can finally be left alone with the suffering clinging to my insides with its nails, the floor behind me creaks and my fingers freeze on the metal as suddenly as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water in my neck. And for a suffocating moment, everything is shrouded in quietness, and there is such a silence between us that the crackling screams of the old house travel through the walls like an ominous melody.

"I liked what you did in the interrogation room." He utters, and it takes me a second to understand what kind of compliment he gave me due to the stress and the agony of the spasm that is slowly closing my intestines in an iron fist. And when the recognition penetrates my brain and I decode his words, I turn back to him with complete confusion, looking up at him with such shocked astonishment on my face that almost certainly paints a cartoon-like shock on my features. Because suddenly I can't find any logical explanation for how the thread of the conversation has led us to this point, and I can't discover any answers as to why he feels so comfortable around me that he can point this out to me so freely. What the hell?

"Excuse me?" The startled question breaks out of me, and I'm unable to hold back the surprise creeping into my voice, doubting for a fleeting moment whether I heard what he said correctly. But as soon as my eyes meet his, and I discover a glimmer resembling admiration in them, I’m completely dumbfounded. Because under other circumstances, my twisted little soul might even be touched by this unusual recognition, but I know all too well who is standing in front of me. And that makes the unexpected turn the situation took seem even more surreal.

"The bloodlust in your eyes was beautiful." He continues his grotesque praise, almost undisturbed, and as he takes a step towards me, I need the combined work of all my nerves in order not to back away from him, because the distrust drills itself into my brain that if I turn my back on him again, it will end very badly. Because I suddenly sense very well how unbelievably huge this man is, and as my troubled eyes reflexively run over him, I become painfully aware that if he attacks me, I won't be able to defend myself. "I doubt your friends could truly appreciate it." He claims, and now some deliberate malice creeps into his voice, which he doesn't even try to hide, thus clearly showing that he has been holding back his real thoughts until now very willingly.

But when my body breaks out of the paralyzed shock, and I get over the fact that he could crush all my bones to dust with a strong hug, then I finally have the brain capacity to understand what he shared with me so carelessly. And from this simple sentence, the alarm disappears from my mind, because it suddenly makes sense why he honored me with his presence. And as my mind realizes that this little discourse is about nothing but the rivalry that has existed since the very first moment our team met, then my little soul calms down in the blink of an eye, because no matter how terrifying the man may seem, according to this, he is driven by just as fallible and transparent motives like everyone else. And although it's very difficult for me to maintain my indifference due to the intrusion of hunger in my stomach, now that I know why he is so persistently interested in me, the doubt of the unknown disappears from my mind.

"Interesting deduction. But I'm afraid I don't care." I respond with utter disinterest, and as the line of a sardonic smile stretches across my lips, I see the first bewildered wrinkles appear around the skin covered with dark paint. And it's painfully obvious that he didn't expect this reaction, but believed that such a big and strong Hunter's kind approach would make me fall at his feet from the pleasure. But he is seriously mistaken if he thinks it's so pathetically easy to sweep me off my feet.

"You’re wasting your talent with them." He laments, and if I were a little more stupid, I would really believe the sympathy in his voice to be authentic, but even if he hadn't blown his disguise so irresponsibly, I would still see through his benevolence. Because I can tell when someone tries to manipulate me, especially if said someone does it half as skillfully as it would take to be a successful strategy against me.

And at other times, I might want to play with him verbally and continue this complicated moment, but when my stomach convulses with the pain tearing into me, then all my patience evaporates like the last sip of water in the desert. Every single one of my nerve cells is stretched to the point of breaking, and this straining ache makes my body braver than it should be, because the sooner I put an end to this extremely bizarre situation, the sooner I can collapse into my bed to finally rest a little in the embrace of the slow ache that spreads to every fiber of me. I quickly cross the distance of a few steps that are remaining between us, and my hand shoots out towards him with the speed of a venomous snake. It seems that he didn't expect my attack, because before he could react, my fingers close around the fabric covering his face, and as I pull him down to me with a movement that is perhaps more forceful than necessary, he obediently leans down to me, stumbling towards me, and I see genuine shock in his eyes.

"It's unnecessary to try to flatter me." I murmur with deceptive kindness, and it seems that I managed to stun him so much with my unexpected act that he even forgets to protest, because he almost dazedly lets me intrude into his personal space to finally have stare off with him without him towering over me. And although it seems that his spine bends in rather uncomfortable positions in order for me to do this, it only makes the contemptuous grin on my face grow wider. "I know this is all about measuring who's dick is bigger. They have something that you don't and it hurts your ego. It's sad, but you'll have to live with it." I curve my mouth downward pitifully, savoring every single emotion that flashes through his eyes. But as soon as I see one of the gloved hands moving in my periphery, I let go of his hood with nonchalant ease and dance away from him in order to return to my door and open it again. "I recommend that you focus more on the mission. A lot of credit is at stake, isn't it?" I throw my last words at him from the threshold, and as I enter the embrace of the darkness of the small room, I have one last chance to catch his gaze stopping on me as he straightens up, and I'm almost relieved when I'm hidden by the thick wood.

Because even though it was only for a few seconds, I saw something very dangerous flash in those bright eyes, and the warning voice waking up in my brain tells me that this is exactly how the predator stares at its slowly cornered prey. With curious hunger. And that makes me realize, even despite the pain that is slowly squeezing my stomach, that I have crossed an invisible border, which sooner or later will bring the trouble that I so enthusiastically sought out for myself. Wonderful.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod #johnny soap mactavish #simon riley #cod ghost #john price #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny mactavish #captain john price #john mactavish #kyle garrick #cod konig #konig #könig #konig x reader #cod könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x oc #simon riley ghost #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x oc #cod mw3

[kakushino]

I’m scared to ask because like I never done this before-

Anyway 👀

Do you think you can make a head cannon thing (or whatever they are called. 🥲) about a male y/n meeting (tanjiro, rengoku, or zenitsu) for the first time but y/n had like major anger issues because of their past (mostly because of their father) and they like later at night they like tell them that their dad was a horrible person and just and soft for the first time to them.

It’s fine if ya don’t want to do it I won’t mind at all :)! But if u do thank you! :D

Tanjiro meeting reader with anger issues

Tanjiro would never judge anyone for their trauma.

Tags: mild violence mention, anger issues, GN! Reader, sfw

Masterlist

AN: I have to admit, this gave me some troubles to write, as I tend to forget "the bad" as a form of coping mechanism. Lots of thanks to A and G for beta-reading and their help in figuring this out! Thank you for your patience and for requesting this! I hope you like it!

The first time Tanjiro sees you, you split your knuckles punching a man much bigger than you. The wrath and distress practically oozing from you make his nose scrunch up a little, but the situation is dissolved before he can step closer to you. You disappear in the next second like vapor above a cooking broth. It makes him wonder who you are, and why you have so much anger in you.

The second time Tanjiro sees you, he actually meets you. Your form is tense as you administer meds to a few of the slayers resting in Butterfly estate. He vividly remembers the way you laid out that man on the streets… 

One of the slayers says something he can’t hear but the next thing he knows, you’re pouring tea over that slayer’s head, much to his indignation. Yet again, the anger wafts from your figure as you stalk away, overpowering any other scent he might have caught on you.

Is there anxiety? Is there sadness? All he can smell is anger, and it makes his head spin.

The third time he sees you, you’re sitting on the engawa staring at your hands, callused from labor and fighting. An undercurrent of the previous negative emotions seemingly soaked into your clothing, yet your face is blank. He has to wonder, are you always on the edge? Or does he just happen to see you in such situations?

He feels compelled to sit beside you, and perhaps offer you an ear and a kind word.

Perhaps it is his openness and warmth, but you find yourself spilling your life story to him - how your past left a festering wound behind, and especially how your father created a deep chasm in your mind, heart, and soul. You tell him how you simply can’t keep calm when someone reminds you of the inadequacy and loneliness you always felt when under your father’s thumb, the shame and the distress fueling your fists, and you cannot hold back.

Tanjiro simply listens. He offers no judgment to your character, because anger is not what defines you, it never did. He understands the need to use it as a protection, a wall of defense when anything hits too close to home, he understands and he doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t know how it feels to be related to such a person, but he knows just how to comfort you.

He gives you his hand to hold, and reassures you, tells you that that man shouldn’t call himself a father, tells you that you will find happiness, and that’s one thing he will never experience. Karma is free, and it has its way of coming back around.

The warm embrace you share afterwards is the start of something great for you both, the stars being the only witness to your exchange.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear Network: @enchantedforest-network

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #kamado tanjiro #tanjiro #tanjiro x you #tanjiro x y/n #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #tanjiro headcanons #kny headcanons #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer fanfic

[psystirene]

Well well well, look who took ages to submit art he drew like two days in advance.

WC x Rainworld Day 5 - Spearmaster

Sharptongue is a Rainclan warrior, having arrived alongside Gourdstar. They have shown unwavering loyalty to their Clan, despite not being born into clan life in any way.

They are the kit of Solstice and Sliver (< SRS and SOS, they are/were QPPs), born in a far-off place. One day, Sliver disappeared into the night, scent dimming the farther her family searched. Solstice requested that Sharptongue look for her beyond their homestead. Of course, they agreed.

The trail ended up much more dangerous than anyone could have expected. When Sharp found someone who smelled just like their mother, they tried to figure out if the cats knew anything, but instead took a spectacular beating. They escaped by the skin of their teeth- and couldn't help but resent those who had brought them here in the first place, as they nursed their wounds.

Gourdstar and their small group of cats found Sharptongue as they were still healing from their injuries. They were offered a safe group to tag along with. Time muddled the meaning of their original mission, as they grew attached to those who would become their clanmates.

Notes: - Sharptongue is non-verbal, they are able to make some sounds and have intact vocal cords etc, but cannot otherwise speak. - Gourdstar and Sharptongue are mates because I MUST keep pushing my Spearmand agenda <3 - They are a chimera, their two "halves" being solid black shorthair and dominant white longhair, though obviously they are more black overall. - Sharp has an oriental-style nose/build, based off of an oriental shorthair! I think it's funny that so many ppl doing this challenge had the same thought lol - Since it'll be a while until SOS/SRS are posted (i have concept doodles for them already) let me just say, this is in fact a family photo that looks insane when you consider it as biological (which I did design them all with being biologically related in mind)

Long ass post! I am autistic about Spearmaster <3

#rain world #warrior cats #spearmaster #rw spearmaster #spearmaster rw #warriors x rainworld #wc x rw #wc x rw art month #warrior cats x rain world #spearmaster rain world #rain world spearmaster #spearmaster rainworld #my art #my wc x rw

[kawaiiwritingcomputer]

Hey hey idk if you're doing requests at the moment but can I have yandere poly (if you're comfy doing poly) scooby gang with a gentle giant female s/o? Like she towers over the whole gang but doesn't like violence unless necessary.

She's like that one meme

"Normaly I'm the healer but... not today" *pulls out a gun*

Thanks if you do this!!

🍄: i don’t write poly,,, but i cannot not write this. i love poly scooby gang in general! thank YOU for this request :3 im writing this as reader is willing as well 😭 i cannot imagine gentle giant resisting nor can i imagine the gang being tooo dubious

Poly!yandere!Scoobygang x giant!Reader:

let’s start with all of them are enamored with how tall you are !!!

you’re always sitting in the back with shaggy and scooby, sometimes making freddy jealous

they all argue over how they’re going to split up and find clues with you

You sit there chilling like ☺️ guys we take turns

sometimes Shaggy wins bc if the particular mystery is super scary, Scooby refuses to go without you

sometimes Velma will come with you and shaggy and scooby to tag along

Normally daphne and fred would be like :( without velma or you but they sometimes don’t mind the alone time either

and vice versa as well when its just shaggy and velma (and scooby ofc but yk dog)

shaggy gets shy around your tall nature and will sometimes pretend to be brave with scooby to protect you but he always ends up jumping in your arms

speaking of jumping into your arms lol 😭 the cut scenes of when you guys are running around trying to run away from the ghoul you guys are trying to debunk: at some point you do end up carrying all five of them in your arms

they all swoon

you help Fred make his traps when he needs to reach certain places.

you and daphne listen to his ramblings while helping him with it

Daphne is your personal stylist ofc

She cannot have one of her cuties being raggedy! Shaggy has the shaggy look down and it’s cute in him, but anyone else? puh-lease!

ofc her daddy’s and mommy’s money pays for your customized clothes bc of your height. sometimes it’s hard to shop lol

Velma is the shyest around you

whether you’re lanky like shaggy or muscular johnny bravo

girl swoons over you literally. she loves going to libraries with you and watching you grab her books for her

Shaggy can too tbh but he likes eating more than reading so you’re taken to the library instead

Shaggy cooks for everyone (canon, sometimes fred joins) but he makes your food portions just like his 😭

big sandwiches and ridiculous toppings and all! unless you have preferences, then scooby will be like “ruh-uh (Y/N) doesn’t like that!”

Scooby stays near you and shaggy as a given

love the personal headcanon that he’ll give you and shaggy warnings if you guys don’t see something that can hurt you guys

so quite literally the look out dog for you

kinda funny how you’re seen as the intimidating one bc your height but it’s literally the whole gang everyone has to worry about 😭

god forbid anyone makes you tear up

the whole gang is pulling up with their personal weapon of choice

Daphne doesn’t even need a weapon 🙏🏽 she just karate kicks them in the throat and then hands you her handkerchief (she keeps it)

sometimes with daphne or velma being taken as hostage, that’s when you put on the brave face to find them by yourself

much to the boys dismay when they realize you disappear too leaving it to shaggy to find the ghoul with you chasing you

“Found them Freddy!”

“Where’d you put Daphne/Velma monster!” is your shout as you continue to chase

“I’ll build trap!”

You hear Freddy and shaggy and set trap up

sometimes it changes but it goes something like that every now and then

with how willing you with the gang and the adventures, you almost forget they’re yandere for you

until it’s time to split up again or it’s time to figure out who gets to sleep next to you (they’re all jealous of scooby for being a dog and being able to sleep on your legs)

#long as hell tags #scooby doo #scooby gang #scooby gang x reader #scooby gang headcanons #fred #shaggy rogers #shaggy rogers x reader #shaggy rogers headcanons #velma dinkley #velma dinkley x reader #daphne blake #daphne blake headcanons #daphne blake x reader #fred jones #fred jones x reader #fred jones headcanons #scooby doo where are you #scooby universe #🍄 writing #🍄

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @thewholelemon! Your snippet looks hilarious!!! I need more details (Baz, you’re a killjoy!)

Today's post is dedicated to @cutestkilla, who is determined to figure out all my secrets when it comes to The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch. So here is a DELUGE of clues to put up on your murder wall and connect with pins and string. MWAHAHA!

A fabulous playlist. You know what goes well with the angst buffet I'm serving up on AO3? An epic soundtrack. Do the songs match up to specific chapters? Do the lyrics mean anything? Is it just vibes? Who knows. Enjoy. (Spotify Link)

Tidbits from my Dead Darlings doc. No spoilers here. All tidbits are from an entire subplot that I cut very early and all names and identifying details have been redacted.

Apparently, such were the times in which [redacted] was living. People kept all manner of useless things in their homes. Shelves with books they didn’t read. Baskets whose sole purpose was to display knick-knacks. And, apparently, time pieces that did not actually keep time.

Or this little bit of dialogue:

“[Redacted]! How can you not know this?!” [Redacted does a highly specific motion I cannot include]. [Redacted] groans. “[Redacted pet name that should not be a pet name but for some reason is and must also be scratched], what am I going to do with you?” “Love me anyway, I imagine.” [Everything after this point definitely needs to be redacted...]

3. A couple beta comments from @thewholelemon. Have I mentioned she's the best beta in the world? Seriously, all the kudos for this fic should be sent directly to Jenny.

happy kitten or grumpy kitten? lol

HORRIFYING. like something out of a scary movie.

LOL braden!!! polycule!!! this is so funny!

Side note: fuck this guy

Have fun unraveling that knot of nonsense, Dre. [Cackles like the dark and disappears in a cloud of smoke.]

For everyone else, if you got this far, thank you. Have a little chapter 3 snippet under the cut, this time featuring current Baz.

Baz could make this difficult. He could wait for the boy to hit on him some more. To ask him his name or if he’d like to have dinner. But, Baz is feeling rather lonely after his unsuccessful hunt for a one-night stand yesterday and this boy can be good enough. So, he takes a step closer and lifts the boy’s chin with a careful finger instead. The boy’s eyes meet his immediately, which is precisely what Baz wanted. The whole scene sets off another round of barking from the tiny dog. “Take me home with you,” Baz whispers.

Hellos and high-fives. Tag, you're it.

@thewholelemon, @roomwithanopenfire, @noblecorgi, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @emeryhall, @valeffelees, @beastmonstertitan, @raenestee, @arthurkko, @iamamythologicalcreature, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @cattocavo, @larkral, @drowninginships, @artsyunderstudy, @whatevertheweather, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @comesitintheclover, @shrekgogurt

#i enjoyed myself a little too much creating this post #what does that say about me? #that cosmic quiz making the rounds said I make a “good friend and best enemy” #not sure which applies to this post #the eternal life of baz pitch #addie larue x snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #carry on fanfiction #wip wednesday

[mimiriko]

𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐒 | 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

tags :: royal!au. princess!reader x knight!nanami. 1k. hurt/comforttt

notes :: i want to expand more on this.. i love this lore

“I’m no good.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Princess—”

“My father said it, I'm no good.”

“Your father can’t decide that,” A hand comes to your arm, stroking. “And it will never be true. Look at me, princess.” It moves to your cheek, lifting your face from your hands and coaxing your eyes up, red and tears spilling.

Warm, his hands feel like a furnace and the gaze he has on you is even warmer. It’s quiet, the sporadic noises of life fluttering in the palace loud when your whimpers aren’t there to fill the air. The arm around your waist retreats momentarily, reaching for his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief— your handkerchief. A cream colour, silk to touch with fine letters of your name embroidered in green. A gift he revealed fortnight’s ago, a tangible token of the hidden love you share. It sated any worries meddling in your heart for it is physical and certain, a barrier from the game of pretend you played around others.

The memory surfaces, and a fraction of your anguish disappears as you let Nanami wipe your tears. Tears that glittered across your waterline and blurred your vision through court, tears that sprung to life when your father belittled you in front of an audience. It’s tough love, you tell yourself regularly. He only wants nothing but the best for you as the future queen, as his successor.

But you yearn. For the smile, he adorned upon seeing you—his posture made of steel but his smile always gentle, his tone soft and his eyes kind. Strict in upholding your preparations as queen, monitoring your studies and arranging activities, but not a day passed where a laugh wasn’t shared, your cheek not kissed and meals eaten apart.

It’s different now.

And Nanami knows.

After his duties as a knight come to an end, when the moon casts the palace in her white glow, he fulfils the role as your lover. Slips past the doors of your room he guards, close enough to you and the coldness in him thaws. Adoring you donned in your nightwear, entirely domestic and a glimpse of the future he dreams of. All decorum leaves his mind with one feathery touch on his jaw, no less than a minute spared in curling up beneath the plush duvet with you tight in his hold. Keeping you safe in ways he cannot show in public, a method you vehemently favour instead of him three steps behind clad in armor.

The comfort he brings to you at night is the same case now. Tucked behind a lush garden, manicured bushes obscuring you from sight as the burden of your title threatens to knock you down, cut your heels until you can no longer walk. He pays attention to the hitch of your breath, the curl of your fingers on your gown. You’re an excellent performer, trained to handle the public eye, but you’ve never figured out how to hide from him.

He’ll stay here until nightfall if he has to if it means to soothe your heart.

A mumble escapes your tired lips. “This is silly of me.”

“Hardly, it makes you human. Your father ought to apologize for the public humiliation.”

(He should do more than that, he thinks. It will take everything in him to face the king again without keeping his mouth closed. He’s not one to let anger cloud his vision, but when it applies to you? His lenses turn red, there’s a stiffness in his stance, his hand aches for his sword and—)

But that doesn’t clear the haze in your mind. Full of your fathers icy irises and the inexorable embarrassment in having Nanami comfort you again. The time spent together in privacy is scarce enough, and most of it is centred to your woes.

You wonder if this is the part where he gets tired, where he comes out of the blinding thrall of love. He’ll soon notice the repercussions of being with you, a forbidden love with a blurry future. A king, your father, who will support a marriage with a faceless prince, but not with him.

It’s all too much.

As if he read your thoughts, Nanami gently says, “We can stay here as long as you like.” But you shake your head, overcome with a need to appear strong for him, that your father can’t hurt you like this forever, and you will not be a burden to him. You wonder how many times has he done this: wrapping his arms around you and easing the harsh lines in his face. Shedding that awful armor and opening his arms for you to jump in them.

“There’s no need for that,” you smile, wobbly but genuine.

To him though, it’s a familiar push from his affections. Years of friendship and months as lovers, and yet you’re hesitant in sharing your pain. As if he didn’t pin after you for years, staring wistfully from the training grounds at the window of your room or the classes you attend midday. When his admiration for you, the only capable royal in the palace, grew deeper, something that didn’t match his duty. Images of you that kept him awake at home, when ideally he shouldn’t think of his job.

And the crux of his problem is that you weren’t a job to him anymore.

Now, after the turmoil of alien feelings and lingering touches, the tension snapping and love forming, his heart is full of you (and yours is the same). Though almost at muscle memory, the time spent desiring another is too long to let go of some tendencies, you forget that he wishes you to give the weight of the kingdom to him. A consuming hunger to shield you from harm, take away all burdens and leave you blissful. A trait he didn’t learn in knighthood.

You make a fruitless attempt to detangle yourself from him, but he grabs you just as quick. (Perhaps he knows you better than you do. Maybe you aren’t ready to go back to being a princess right now.) A shake of his head and a soft, Rest some more, my love. Let me take care of you, is all you need to admit defeat. Slumping against his chainmail, eyes closing with exhaustion, with only Nanami on your mind.

In his arms you are not a princess of a kingdom, a tool ready to be used, to follow the same ordeal of previous ancestors. You are his princess, and his alone. And you send a wish to the universe to be with him until your dying days.

© mimiriko 2022, all rights reserved.

#🪐 #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

[rainpebble3]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @mareenavee

I’ll keep the tag train going by tagging @vivifriend @paraparadigm @thequeenofthewinter @dirty-bosmer @snippetsrus @archangelsunited @changelingsandothernonsense and anyone else who wants to play!

This snip is for chapter 15 of Layers of Snow and Ash, so far titled ‘Destruction’

The first half of this angst snip was shared in an ask answer a few days ago if you’re curious about the drama!

~

Nodding, Nera watched as Master Faralda disappeared, leaving her to study the wreckage of the once pristine study room. The bottles of wine were smashed on the ground and their contents spilled out, leaving frightening stains on the stone. Nera couldn’t tell which dark smudges were wine and which were blood. She trembled violently, tears spilling down her face and she sobbed into her knees. What had she done?!

“This was unexpected.”

She looked up at the figure leaning in the doorway. Calmlinde watched her from a safe distance, her face lacking its usual arrogant grin and in its place was curiosity and something else. Nera wiped her eyes and tried to figure out what to say.

“It was an accident,” she finally mumbled, too miserable to disguise her tears.

Calmlinde tutted. “I never thought you would be the one with power like this. It’s fascinating. Enough to make one question why the great Maryon family would neglect such talent.”

Nera remained silent and Calmlinde continued.

“Of course, we both know you’re no more a Maryon than I am.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nera whimpered, and her trembling got worse.

Calmlinde approached her slowly, crouching down in front of her. “We all have our histories, and I’ve told my fair share of lies to get here.”

“Please, don’t get too close, I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

“Hmm, I saw as they carried your ‘sister’ to Master Marence’s office before they went to deal with your fluctuations…”

“Master Faralda said it wasn’t my fault…”

Calmlinde smiled and Nera could see purple stains around her gums. “Master Faralda lied to you.”

“Why would she do that?!” Nera squeaked. “Gods, did I break the light fountains?! Oh no… they’re going to throw me out… I’m going to have to… go back there? No. No!” Her words fell away to maddened gasps, the air couldn’t fill her lungs no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t return to Windhelm. She could never face her parents, or Rei, or… him…

“Shh,” Calmlinde held Nera’s hands and forced a sympathetic smile, “they won’t throw you out, not if you learn to control your power.”

“I’m trying! I swear…”

The Altmer nodded. “I know, but your sister, she isn’t strong enough to help you. You need someone with a significantly higher tolerance for magic, and a better training arena.”

Rubbing her eyes, Nera looked up at Calmlinde with the faintest glimmers of hope. “What do you mean?”

“As an Altmer, I’m blessed with the tolerance you would need in a,” she paused thoughtfully and grinned, “a tutor. And I have been studying magic since the so-called Oblivion Crisis.”

Nera nearly leapt to her feet but hesitated. She knew of the Oblivion Crisis, it was two hundred years ago. Why did someone like this want to be an apprentice here?

“So why are you here? Why aren’t you…”

Calmlinde smirked. “True exploration of magical power cannot be bound. The Arcane University is too restrictive for me. Winterhold has less… well the rules here are easier to follow shall we say.”

“Aren’t you too good to be an apprentice?” Nera asked quietly.

Laughing, she nodded and stroked Nera’s cheek. “Once I sit my assessments, I expect to be given a position amongst the researchers. But, I would like to help you.”

“Why?” Nera finally asked. “Why me?”

“To see a raw power like this go to waste would be a crime against Magnus.”

“I don’t want to hurt my friends…”

“You mean your sister?” Calmlinde corrected wryly, raising a brow. “Either way, I can help you with that. We can unleash your true potential and teach you to control it as well as you control your limbs.”

Nera looked around at the destruction, slowly coming to a decision. “You mentioned somewhere to practise?”

Nodding, Calmlinde stood up and offered Nera her hand. “We can use the Midden.”

“But the Archmage said…”

Calmlinde raised a brow. “He said it was dangerous for inexperienced mages. Do I look inexperienced to you?”

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #the elder scrolls v: skyrim #wip wednesday #modded skyrim #writing #elder scrolls #tes #i should be writing

[onecantsimply]

Okay so Ai got a repost that had a tag about the angst for this post-

So-

WE’RE MAKING A VERSION OF WHEN THEY SURVIVE AND WHEN THEY DIE- NOW LET’S GO-

-

You Live:

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤:

• Through all the wounds, through all that agony, and through all those struggles against that God, you had won. You had been announced as the winner as your opponent shattered into green particles from behind you. And Heracles couldn’t be happier. He was crying during that match but he won’t admit it-

- But when he sees you returning to your tunnel with your Valkyrie partner helping you, he quickly makes his way towards the sick bay. Bet your ass he’s running because he wants to see you as soon as possible. And when he does, he’s immediately by your side as you get bandaged up. He knows he can’t really give you a hug since you’re really damn injured, but he can give you kisses-

- He will not hold back with them, guaranteed. While you’re getting bandaged up by a doctor, Heracles is gripping your hand, spilling how worried he was when you had gotten yourself injured. Though, hope shall never waver, because he was very fucking relieved when you had won. Even through the amount of time that had to be wasted just for you to get your edge-

• And right when you’re recovered, Heracles throws a good party for you- At that point he’s going to get drunk and he’ll spill everything. All his emotions, all his hugs, all his kisses, everything- Mans is vulnerable-

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤:

• The gentle smile filled with relief that makes it onto his face is immediately visible once he sees your opponent shatter into the pieces of green shards. And as Heimdall announces your victory, Hermes finally lets go of breath he had been holding for what seemed like forever.

- Now, Hermes finds it necessary to help you to the med bay. He has no care for people that try to stop him. Not when you’re most likely waiting for him while walking down the tunnel. And in the instant he greets you down that hall, Hermes has a firm grip on your hand, as well as a firm hug to your figure.

- He just can’t help it when he’s been so worried for you in that bout against a God. His worry soon starts to disappear when he sees you getting bandaged up. And due to his own work, he cannot stay there very long, but he will make sure to visit you when he can.

- By the time you’re recovered, Hermes is already waiting for you, having a few gifts ready for you for your win. Be prepared for cuddle sessions and gentle kisses to your forehead, because that is most of what Hermes will give you when he’s cuddling you in bed.

𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟:

• Goodness. Good fucking goodness. Odin isn’t exactly cracking an expression at it, but he visibly lets go of his chair and tenses down. Instead of showing his relief in public, he keeps it inside until he’s in a private space with you.

- While he is not exactly the one to be emotional, even in private, he is still sensible enough to give you a few hugs, kisses, as well as a few words of congratulations for winning. It wasn’t on the side he wanted it to be on, but he’s still glad of your win, as well as your survival-

- Like Hermes, Odin is almost always busy, so he does have to go away after a small bit. Though, he will be sure to visit you at least once more while you’re in recovery. Without Huginn and Muginn, of course. Those crows do not know how to stay silent. Odin had to grab them by the throat to keep them from yelling out how he was with you in the hospital.

- Though, while you are done recovering, Odin can finally have the time he needs with you once he gets home. That’s where he’s most comfortable, and more capable of speaking. He will make sure you don’t get into any more situations that include fighting. He’ll deal with it himself.

You Die:

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤:

• He knew it was coming. He fucking knew it was coming. So why is he behaving like he wasn’t ready for your death? He feels somewhat numb, even if he can hear and feel himself starting to tear up. Your apology towards him as you start to shatter into green particles… It almost broke him down completely.

- Hearing the sneers and shouts of the Gods in the crowd didn’t make it any better. Not when they were insulting your name for daring to want to keep Humanity alive. At least… At least in his own battle, maybe he could join you, along with the fallen Humans and Gods just before.

- Now Heracles isn’t exactly the same for a few days, no matter how much he wants to be. Ares is concerned for him. It’s as if the literal Sun in the world had shut itself down. Though, Heracles knew that crying or moaning about it wouldn’t bring you back. So he had to be strong for his own side, and count on the memories he had before.

- While he is out of that depression phase, he’s more serious, and doesn’t seem to smile as much. The only thing he does smile at is the memories of you, or the things that remind him of you. Though, as soon as he remembers his goal, he goes right back to being serious. Ragnarok changed him for the worst.

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤:

• Utter silence from the man himself as he watches your wounds get the better of you, and allow your opponent to kill you. Those very same wounds make your body shatter into green particles, keeping Hermes in his fit of silence.

- His movements are completely still, and his eyes dully stare towards where you previously were. The cheers of the Gods for their handpicked fighter, as well as the yelling of disgust towards your name had Hermes washed in an emotion of something he hadn’t felt in a while.

Utter hatred.

- He supposed that this was your fate, though. You did go against the Gods just to fight for a race like Humanity. But even so, Hermes was still your significant other. And he still cared for you. He’s just glad that he made you as happy as you could be in your final moments with him.

- And within the walls of his own home, it feels empty without you to be by his side in bed. Alone once again, and Hermes has to get used to it. His silence is what he will treat almost everyone with, although he will still do the tasks he is assigned to do. The only thing on his mind is you, and will forever be kept that way for as long as he lived.

𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟:

• Well, it was to be expected. And yet, Odin can’t help but have that gnawing pain at his own heart and soul. He can’t hear anything as he grips the arms of his chair until it breaks from his force. His silent glare is focused on the God that had made you shatter before his very eyes.

- Seeing how they had walked into the tunnel, victorious and happy at their own win… It made him sick. Especially when he saw the other Gods laughing and presumably yelling. He couldn’t hear them, but he knew what they were doing. They were making fun of you.

- He will make sure that they never make fun of you ever again with one deathly glare all aimed at them. Huginn and Muginn had flew off of his shoulders while the Gods quieted down. And with that, Odin had made his way out of the stadium, knowing fully well that he would never see you again.

- He kept himself stoic, and he kept himself normal. Though that nagging feeling never left his heart, so he chose to honor you in his own heart, keeping his feelings for you once again tucked away so he could stay normal. One more win for the Gods. Just a few more to go before the memories could be gone for one thousand more years.

#record of Ragnarok #record of Ragnarok x reader #record of Ragnarok Heracles #Heracles x reader #record of Ragnarok Hermes #Hermes x reader #record of Ragnarok Odin #Odin x reader

[soulofapatrick]

Always Been You - Jesse x reader

Summary: Y/N is part of the Jesse; Ellie and Dina trio. Despite being the most observant you are the most oblivious to Jesse’s feelings towards you

Words: 2K

Warnings: mentions of sensory overloads 

Notes: @thefictionalgemini and @moonchildpc​ here’s another Jesse story for ya, the man needs all the appreciation and love he can get. I will tag you in every Jesse I write x

Y/N’s POV

You wouldn’t be able to tell there was an apocalypse going on with the way everyone is dancing and laughing, the music upbeat and the whole atmosphere merry. Most of the town are here, except those few who don’t like the parties and those with young kids who need to stay home for them. I usually take babysitting duties during these but tonight Nancy and the other mums decided I had to go have fun at the dance. 

So here I am, leaning against the wall, sipping on a rum and coke that Ellie forced into my hand a while ago before she disappeared off to somewhere, probably to find Dina who she would follow to the ends of the earth. Both of them are very dumb as they are head over heels for each other but they cannot see for the life of them that the other likes them. It makes me want to just grab them and snap ‘now kiss’ as they cause so much sexual tension when around and when drunk. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” That smooth southern lilt drags me from people watching to look up at the Asian American. He’s got that smile on his face that has my face flushing. Jesse is fit, he always has been and ever since arriving in Jackson with Joel and Ellie he’s on my radar. Ellie’s teased me multiple times about just asking him out but I’m gonna be the one to ruin the little quartet we have going on.  

“Yeah, Nancy told me I had to come.” I shrug lightly as he stops next to me, elbow brushing mine and cognac eyes sparking in the fairy lights strung up around the old barn. His smile is soft and everything about him is welcoming and warm and it makes me rest my head on his shoulder and just go back to people watching as Jesse doesn’t say anything.  

It gets a little uncomfortable after a while so I grab Jesse’s arm, wrapping it around my shoulders in front of me so I can lean my back against his side. He shifts a little before accepting the position and resting his chin atop my head as I finally spot Dina. She’s dancing with a member of the community, he helps in the meat shop but I’m not too sure of his name as he’s man of few words. I think his name might be Adrian but again I could be completely wrong as all I’ve said to him is ‘hi’ and ‘bye’. He seems like a sweet man, I should try talking to him more. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jesse hums, arm pulling me a little closer while I take another sip of my drink as Dina and Adrian spin around the makeshift dance floor, quite a few people’s gazes on her as she’s shameless and her confidence is hard to ignore. If I wasn’t straight I could definitely see myself having a crush on her but she’s been in a weird on and off relationship with Jesse for almost eight months now and honestly it’s killing me. The pair are terrible for each other, Dina and Ellie having wayyyy more chemistry. 

“She’s putting on quite the show, isn’t she?” Ellie’s low voice appears from my right as she joins us, leaning on the wall next to me with a whiskey in hand. Not sure how she managed to get that as she’s not legal for another two years and Maria is quite strict on keeping the age limit to 21, even in a post apocalyptic world. I somewhat admire how she leads with fairness but how even those like that bigot Seth are scared of her. 

Jesse just hums in response, his chin moving against mine in a short nod that has Ellie sending me a knowing smirk that I really hope Jesse doesn’t notice. I focus on drinking my drink and just scanning the room, eyes falling on Tommy and Joel. It’s always great to see the brothers reunited again and being able to as much of a family as they can, Tommy having become a father figure for me. That did surprise me as I always thought Joel would be the father figure in my life after travelling with him and Ellie for almost a year yet Tommy took me under his wing almost immediately. 

I didn’t even realise Ellie and Jesse were having a conversation until Dina’s making her way over to us asking what they were talking about. I don’t mind not being part of the conversation as it’s just nice to have their company and be surrounded by their lively conversations about god knows what. Last time they were talking this animatedly it was an argument over DC and Marvel comics they had found in the old shopping mall just south of Jackson. Personally I’m a Marvel kind of girl, loving the character of Hawkeye and loving the representation for the deaf. 

“She’s not with us, is she?” Dina’s sweet voice floats through my thoughts and I turn to see Ellie and Dina watching me. They smile lovingly at me, Ellie squeezing my arm before they return to their animated conversations and I go back to watching the way Joel throws his head back in a genuine laugh at something Tommy’s said. I’m vaguely aware of Jesse putting his now empty glass down and wrapping his other arm around my front, arms moving to wrap around my waist as he gently begins swaying us in time to the live band. I could be imagining it honestly but I won’t question it as I want it to be real, my body sparking with electricity at the feel of his arms around my waist and his head still settled on top of mine. 

I let my eyes slide shut, leaning back into Jesse with all of my weight and just enjoy the sounds around me . The cute giggles emitted from Dina at a stupid pun Ellie said, Jesse chuffing and chest rumbling against my back. The sounds of many other conversations merging and mixing like the way the fairy lights flow through the rainbow over and over again. The smell of different types of alcohol mixing and the smell of sweaty bodies making an almost sickly feeling in my gut

I grip Jesse’s arm, suddenly aware of and not liking the sticky heat surrounding me from all the sweaty bodies dancing and running around. The three of them seems to understand, Ellie and Dina seeing the slightly panicked look in my eyes as Ellie taps Jesse’s shoulder, saying, “Time to go. Too much.” 

Jesse understands, unwrapping his arms from around my waist to have his right slide down my left arm to grip my hand in his before he begins to navigate his way through the crowds to the exit. I’m gasping in the cold air, resting my forehead to his shoulder as I try to focus on the feel of his hands in mine. 

“What was it this time?” Ellie asks, voice soothing as we all sit on one of the benches outside, Ellie and Dina opposite me and Jesse as I find myself unable to let Jesse’s hand go. 

“Smell.” 

“Yeah that checks out,” She nods, freckles sticking out against her pale skin when she scrunches her nose up, “Was starting to smell really stale in there.” 

“You didn’t have to leave with me.” I mumble, feeling embarrassed now as they’re all focused on me and I have nothing to distract myself with. 

“Yeah we did, we’re not going to just leave you behind dumbass,” Dina reaches out and squeezes my free hand. Then the three of them continue the conversation they were having inside like nothing happened. It helps me relax and I know that they know from the small smiles on their lips. I just spend this time taking in the two girls opposite me. 

Ellie’s auburn hair is done up in a low bun with a strand or two escaping the style. She’s wearing a white tee shirt under the blue checked flannel that I recognise being from my wardrobe, the sleeves rolled up the elbow. The blue draws out the darker shade of green in her clover eyes that are sparkling with every counter Dina throws her way. She’s wiping her hands on her skinny jeans, the tattoo she recently got to cover the bite so she could stop wearing those bandages. Ellie always gives off such a tomboyish style and attitude and I wouldn’t change that for the world because it’s just so Ellie like.

Dina on the other hand is very feminine. She’s also in skinny jeans but she seemed to opt for cowboy boots unlike Ellie’s scuffed and worn converse. Dina’s hair is up in a high bun, completely slicked back except for a select section at the front that frame her rounded face in gentle waves, the only hint that her charcoal black hair isn’t straight. It’s very obvious from her complexion that she’s an IsY/Nlite and jewish, no hate or prejudice. I think she’s beautiful with her chocolate brown eyes a smouldering against the burgundy v-neck she’s wearing. 

They’re both beautiful and everything about them compliments each other. I still think they would be absolutely perfect together if they would stop dancing around each other. The way their hands are always brushing again some part of the other’s skin and they way their gazes linger on each other for a little too long. 

I know what Jesse looks like without having to turn my head and look at him. His appearance seems to be burned into my eyelids with his shaggy liquorice coloured hair that always has strands of his fringe falling into his cognac brown eyes. No matter how many times you brush the hair out of his eyes it’ll fall right back into place. I find it cute and it gives me a reason to be touching him, caressing his cheek when I bring my hand back down. He’s tall and lanky but by no means weak, his muscles are well defined under the long sleeved grey henley he’s currently wearing: not rock solid as there’s definitely give and softness to those muscles. He’s wearing jeans like always and his sturdy boots as he never knows when he’ll have to spring into action when out so he tries to always wear sensible clothing, no matter the occasion. 

Long fingers hook under my chin, causing my eyes to fly open and my face is being turned so I’m looking up at Jesse, eyes bright as he says, “I can hear the cogs turning in your head.” 

“O-oh,” I can’t help but blush, trying to look anywhere but at him when I notice we’re alone, “Where’d Dina and Ellie go?” 

“Dina was getting cold so Ellie offered to walk her home,” He tells me, that southern lilt all I can focus on and the way his lips move around every word, “Shall I walk you home?” I don’t respond, just watching him, unable to respond, “Y/N-“ 

Something comes over me and I’m surging forwards, lips slamming against his surprisingly soft ones. He doesn’t pull away or yell but instead his hands fly to my hip and my cheek, guiding the kiss into a softer one that has me straddling his waist. The kiss is sweet and new territory for us but at the same time it feels like we’ve done this a thousand times. Jesse’s tongue brushes along my bottom lip and I’m parting them with a sigh at how right this all feels. 

“You don’t know how long I have been waiting for this,” Jesse murmurs against my lips and I’m pulling back, the grin on his face widening at the probable shock on mine, “Have you seen me let Ellie or even Dina manhandle me the way you do?” I just shake my head knowing if I speak I won’t be able to keep the quiver out of my voice and he’s holding my face in his hands, laughing softly as he says, “It’s always been you idiot.” 

Maybe I should listen to Ellie more often.

#jesse #jesse tlou #jesse the last of us #tlou jesse #tlou Jesse x reader #tlou Jesse fluff #tlou Jesse smut #tlou Jesse x you #tlou smut #tlou fluff #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #Tommy miller #Joel Miller #Ellie williams #dina tlou #Ellie x dina #:readmore:

[celestialmint]

Twitter alternatives (WIP)

Collecting some pros and cons (with sources if I can find them) for various platforms. I'm neurodivergent, this is how I cope with my stress, figured I'd share if it helps anyone! I'm looking for a place that vibes with my values (LGBTQ+, BIPOC, disabled, anti-hate, NSFW friendly, and preferably has boundaries against generative AI stealing art/writing etc.).

I welcome any comments/sources that people have as so many of us are trying to figure this out!! Updating as I find more options/learn more

Tumblr:

My experience: I used Tumblr back before the NSFW ban and am just coming back this year, I find it easy to use and filter content I do and don't want to see. But I struggle to feel a sense of community here (I haven't talked to anyone directly through this platform in the years I have used it, though I do appreciate the silly tags on my art!! keep them coming!)

Pros: As far as I'm aware (I used the site back in the popular days, so I'm just coming back to it): does not use posts for gen AI, does not ban queer/bipoc/disabled content. Many fandoms have a large base here.

Cons: cannot post NSFW, anything vaguely near NSFW can be flagged even if it is not sexual

Twitter:

My experience: I have been on Twitter for about a year, I've found a bunch of mutuals and enjoy interacting with people there. But I can't support the direction M*sk is taking things and don't want to post my art on that platform anymore.

Pros: Large user base/far reach including international, can post NSFW but it can sometimes be limited in the algorithm

Cons: M*sk, shadowbans/bans of LGBTQ+ and BIPOC content, arbitrary bans/flags for NSFW, will use posts for AI, bots, hate speech, and harassment of marginalized groups are getting worse

Discord:

My experience: I've used discord for at least 7 years and use it daily as my primary form of communication with friends (and my husband one room away).

Pros: Large user base, most gamers have it, easy way to communicate on mobile and desktop, fun bot integration

Cons: Hard to find your people, most servers are closed systems that you don't know exist, and being in dozens of servers can be difficult to keep track of/keep up with. Each server is run by a person and could disappear without any notice if they rage quit and delete it, the rules are also up to that person. It makes it hard for artists to get a broader reach unless they have their own userbase from another platform feeding into it. Mentions of using user content (VC?) for AI training. They combined the dev for iOS and Android and the mobile app has been AWFUL since then (constantly says connecting every time I go to the app, often have to close and reopen it to send a message).

Bluesky Social:

My experience: I'm on the waitlist (supposedly? Didn't get an email confirmation and just waiting for the past week).

Pros: Built by the previous CEO of Twitter so in theory knows how to build a platform, lots of people seem to be heading that way if they can get an invite code. There were previous worries about it using content for AI, however as far as I can tell it uses content for tagging/moderation the same way that Tumblr does, and NOT for generative AI, " Bluesky does not own rights to your User Content" (From their TOS). Supposedly allows NSFW but can't find a source on this.

Cons: Waitlist of indeterminate length/hard to get an invite code. As shared in my comments, there have been issues of harassment and racism that are not being moderated properly to protect POC users. There have been issues of racist slurs being used in usernames, which in theory got patched out with code, but took a while for them to respond, which does not bose well.

Misskey.io:

My experience: Seeing a few mutuals go over to Misskey.io, I have only clicked on a couple of their posts to see what the platform looks like.

Notes: Uncertain about much about the platform. A lot of the posts are in Japanese (and I'm rusty reading kanji!)

Cons: There are mentions of being Anti-LGBTQ+ or at least not wanting people to post LGBTQ+ content there (1, 2, 3).

Mastodon:

My experience: I don't have an account and have only clicked there once for this post, see below

Notes: I have no personal experience with this platform but people online keep mentioning how hard it is to set up and use (even those who work in programming). I just went to the site's explore page from a google search. The first post it showed me was anti-red state/political parties legislating/tracking marginalized groups (ok), but with a picture of Nazi's front and center uncensored or tagged/flagged as far as I can tell (that was a shocking welcome to the site, might have just been my bad luck, not sure what kind of content is usually posted there). My husband who is into following political content says that people looking for that content are more likely to go to Mastodon from the accounts he follows, rather than art/fandom (from his experience).

Threads:

My experience: I do not have Facebook and will not join this platform.

Pros: Lots of people already have Instagram accounts, so it should be easy to join Threads

Cons: They will collect every scrap of data they can on you and sell it. From your purchases, to health, to location, you are the product.

Pillowfort:

My experience: Only seen mutuals talking about it, do not have an account myself

Pros: According to wikipedia: "The website was launched in 2017 and is currently in open beta. As of October 2020, the site had more than 100,000 users. The website is popular among fandoms, the LGBT community, and adult content creators." Allows NSFW content. Looks a lot like Tumblr so should be familiar to use. They have a demo login that allows you to check out what the site looks like before making an account. They say they are "planning" (search for Stance on AI in the FAQs) to prevent bot scraping, however they believe "AI and AI Generated Images are a topic that is much more nuanced than we previously believed" and do not take a firm stance on the topic yet.

Cons: They do not have a mobile app, though it is mentioned in the FAQs as planned. They limit image uploads to 2MB, you have to pay $2.49/month to upload up to 4MB. Anything submitted over 2MB up to 10MB will be resized down to 2MB.

Notes: On the FAQ they mention "In order for Pillowfort to remain online we need money to cover our various expenses such as hosting & data fees, staff compensation, etc. We do not receive any funding from corporate investors or venture capital because we are committed to keeping our user experience a priority." For better or worse, it is not run by a large company, they mention working on getting volunteers for moderation, the site feels like a work in progress.

Spill:

Notes: Having trouble finding details on this one, don't know anyone personally on it to ask.

Pros: Black owned

Cons: Currently a waitlist, not sure how long the wait is

#twitter alternative #twitter meltdown #twitter refugees