#he leveled up and power got into his head... now he's smiting innocent people and acting like a fool...

[wasyago]

they have so many belts....

#gillion seems so unhinged and bloodthirsty in the latest (28) episodes and im very sad about it :( i miss my serious noble dork gillion.... #he leveled up and power got into his head... now he's smiting innocent people and acting like a fool... #chip has an emotional crisis over killing goblins and significantly grows as a character. meanwhile gillion gets corrupted #jay is slaying so hard i love her. she seems reasonable but no. she's insane when need be #anyways. rambling over #just roll with it #jrwi riptide #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #jrwi chip #chip jrwi #my art #sketch

[moonlit-nest]

I got our Wizard a gift

   So I play 5E with all of my school friends, right? Quick background of our party makeup: Our DM, of course, and then me, a Paladin (don’t worry, I’m not the “Lawful Stupid” Variety) Sorcerer multiclass named Sunn. Additionally, you’ve got Fib the Rogue, Kepesk the Bloodhunter, Lotë the Druid, Edgar the Fighter and Minthe the Wizard. 

    So, my character, Sunn, is a pretty nice guy. At least, he tries to be. He thinks about others and likes to handle party talking and social skills, due to Charisma being his primary stat. Not always, but usually. He’s kindhearted, charming, and passionate about the people he cares for.         Then you’ve got our Wizard, Minthe... complete 180. A Necromancer who tends to front a cold shoulder, and doesn’t seem to really care about other people. At least, not at first (there were backstory reasons as to why she acted the way she did at times, though that’s for another tale). She raises the dead despite the social stigma behind her specialized magic, and tends to take a no shit attitude, and an all or nothing approach. I guess in a way you could say she and Sunn both took the role of joint “Speakers” for the group, since Sunn was the lighthearted “let’s go, team!” Type of guy who rallies his comrades, and Minthe opposed this by keeping the group on track and focused, and was surprisingly level headed, even during times of crisis. You’d think they wouldn’t really get along, right?

   Well, as it turns out, they actually clicked, and surprisingly well! Maybe it was that they were both dedicated and experienced casters, maybe it was that Minthe found my strange character interesting (he’s a Furry, which is almost basically unheard of in our setting by the DM, unless you count established races like Lizardfolk or Arakockra under the furry umbrella term. Buy and large though, Sunn was pretty unique), but they grew to have a slightly antagonistic but genuine friendship the first chance our group got to chill and roleplay in an inn. To get an idea of what their relationship looks like overall, Minthe’s player and I often joke about situations the two could find themselves in, and how, generally speaking, Minthe and Sunn make jabs at the others expense frequently, but always in good fun, as they know each other well enough to not take it so far as to hurt one another’s feelings. In fact, when things get serious, they work surprisingly well together! Admittedly, that may be in part due to the fact that Minthe’s player and I (we’ll call her... Sam, for the sake of privacy 💛) have a pretty good relationship outside of D&D, and we both are very experienced D&D and role players, so we just mesh easily.    So, with that context in mind, we come to the story part. Our party had recently traveled underground (long story short, it was a more secret route into the castle of the city we were under, we were rescuing an innocent woman from execution). There was a puzzle we had to get past involving the guard of said underground path (Sam did a great job here, as she had to tell the guard a story that would entertain him in order to pass, and she rolled very high along with her very good roleplaying, which was more than enough to let us pass), and then we were in the stretch towards the underground criminal base that would allow us passage to the castle from the inside. As we make our way through the narrow cavern, which slowly filled with water, insuring we didn’t lag behind too much, we made our way to a... very... peculiar area.      The walls seemed to end, and all around us looked like a night sky, even below the semi-opaque stairway that seemed to slowly crawl downwards. We had outpaced the water in this point, so we were free to carefully observe our surroundings in this otherworldly zone... I’m not exactly sure what this was to be honest, but my current theory was, at some point, we failed to perceive a portal of some kind that connected us to this magical hallway, a limbo between the cavern to wherever the underground criminal zone was. Anyway, no point in delaying, we begin proceeding downwards into the abyss, dimly (and I do mean  dimly) lit by artificial star lights.   

   I should mention that, at this point, we concluded this session. A week passed us by, and we were hyped! Unfortunately, Sam was unable to proceed with this week’s session due to family business I believe, so we agreed to proceed with the session and edify her on the events immediately once the session concluded. As for Minthe, we felt it would be wrong to do her the disservice of just pretending she was there but not letting her do anything, so, despite our lack of a character sheet, we agreed to let someone use her character. I took that role, since I had the relative most experience with both 5E and Spellcasting out of the rest of the players at the time. 

   Now, resuming the in game events, we’re traveling through this odd realm of darkness, faint light, and downward stairs. Eventually, we begin to worry a little, so we all decide we’ll be making perception rolls to keep cautious. The dice were rolled, and every single one of our characters heard a strange series of noises as we listened... it sounded like... chittering...   

   Naturally, we’re unnerved. This was the first thing we had in this campaign that even felt reminiscent of horror themed, so we weren’t sure what the DM had planned... we get our vigil, and remained stalwart, proceeding further below. Eventually, we see the outline of a massive set of doubled doors, complete with large handles that were probably higher up than Lotë, who I wanna say was the shortest member of the party. However, the doors aren’t all we see.       Above, we see multiple lights flicker in the darkness. One, two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty... tens... hundreds. Blinking in quick succession. They were a slightly different color than the stars surrounding us.     These, as was obvious, were no stars.        From just above the door, an incredible and mortifying sight revealed itself - a monstrous, gargantuan, opalescent Spider, the starlight now reflecting off of its revealed form, its razor sharp fangs, needle pointed legs and gemstone-fortified body sparkling in all of its death-foretelling glory. Then, as if things couldn’t be worse, the seemingly infinite eyes of above closed down towards us - hundreds of smaller twinkling spiders, raining down upon us.

   Roll Initiative.       Our Bloodhunter Kepesk went first, activating his crimson rite on his weapon and charging for the spider. Then a small group of the swarm attacked everyone in a small enough zone, dealing minimal, but still noteworthy, piercing damage. Keep in mind that the fact that this battle takes place on a stairway limits our mobility, lest we risk falling off of said stairs into who knew where...   

   The orders continue, Sunn strengthening the party with his magic, Lotë hurling spells and supporting friends when needed, wisely using fire to help ward against the webs that the many abominations sometimes used to keep us in place, Edgar bravely defending his friends with his viscous morning star, Kepesk distracting the leader of the creatures and dealing significant damage with his ice-coated scythe, Fib narrowly dodging and weaving through attacks and cleverly using the darkness to pass checks (presumably for being able to disengage and hide) before returning to the fray with impressive sneak attack damage, and Minthe channeling her most powerful spells at her disposal to decimate the army of spiders.       Now, Kepesk, he’s a... cocky son of a bitch. Well, mayhaps not cocky, but I lack a better term. He’s absolutely chaotic, as is his player, though in the best way possible. He only does nonsense when he knows it can benefit the group, or at least himself and not harm the group, and it always makes for a good laugh! This boss fight would be no different, as he evades and disengages from the giant spider, and attempts to use her own weapons against her - by charming one of the spiders. Not, you know, magically charming them or commanding them. Just... you know, trying to tame it. In the middle of the fight. While also dodging the flurry of swipes and jabs from the boss.       It may sound ridiculous, but we just thought it was as hilarious as it was badass, and we were dying of laughter, even the DM was into it (despite the fact that she later described never in a million years anticipating it, so good on her for being awesome about improvising shit). Now, he did, admittedly, have to earn it. A check to learn more about the spiders, a check to calm the spider, and then a few other things to make sure it didn’t die, fall, etc etc, since we were trying to kill as many spiders as possible, and he was sandwiched between the horde and the boss. He definitely suffered some hits and had to earn his pet gem spider, but, he did!       Now, I see this, and I’m laughing while I think of a way to help. Maybe I have a spell that can make his checks easier, or buy him some time by getting the boss spider’s attention with a Divine Smite from Sunn, as I still had one last spell slot for him. But, I realized, Sunn rolled less than adequate on his initiative, and he was out for more than a few rounds, at least six or so. Minthe, however? She was next.   

   Now, for whatever reason, my thoughts lingered on Sam. “Man”, I thought, “what would Sam think if she were in this situation with Minthe?”       Well, quickly, I had an answer. I smiled to myself, now giggling quietly.       “She’d want a pet of her own, right?” I thought to myself. I mean, I wasn’t sure if she had a familiar or not at the time, but I knew the idea was humored by Sam and our DM. Maybe, just maybe, I could actually pull it off! A check to figure out what these things are, how to tame them, just get Sunn or Edgar to protect her from some spiders and boom, should be easy, right? Yes, it was. Just... not as easy as I thought it would be.       “DM?” I ask, politely.       “Wassup?” She asks in return, awaiting my response.       “Minthe notices Kepesk not fighting with one of the spiders, and reasons that she’s away from most of the enemies... can she try to tame a spider as well?”       She thinks on it for a second, and asks me to explain my reasoning, which I do. Minthe was known for being a little strange, since she was a Necromancer and didn’t really give a damn what people thought about her, so it’s not like it was out of character. I also add that it would be a nice surprise for Sam, since she had thought about getting Minthe a familiar before, and maybe this would be a way to ease that desire until a real familiar could be obtained (she ended up getting a... raven, or maybe a crow, as her legit familiar. He’s hilarious and can communicate using telepathy, he’s surprisingly eloquent with common, if a bit snarky)! The DM rules that I can certainly try, and to roll an Arcana check to learn more about these creatures. Minthe, being a wizard, had a very high score, and I rolled decently, between 10 and 15, so I was safe, and learned all of the information Kepesk had. Then, I roll another Arcana check to try and tame it (the reason I rolled Arcana and not Animal Handling, as I recall, was that Minthe was using her knowledge and actual facts of how to tame the creatures as opposed to intuitive care for the animal). I pick up my D20, shake it with both hands, and mumble “pleeeeaaase work..” to myself. I let go, and a few clacks ring out. People were curious if I could do it.       Natural 20.       I was pumped for the rest of the night - not only was the spider okay with chilling with Minthe, it fell in love! With two new allies on our side, we defeated the rest of the pests and took down the Massive Spider herself! Victory was ours, and the session ended as we pushed open the heavy metal gates, greeted with the sight of relatively civilized society. It was full of crooks, but at least there was an inn, so we felt pretty damn good.       I eagerly texted Sam the report of the session that night once I was in my car on the way home (wasn’t driving, lol), and told her the tale of how she would have a viscous, dangerous little crystal spider to roleplay with as her character in the next session. To this day, both Minthe and Kepesk still have their spider kids and they honestly love them very, very much.       The End! 💛

#dnd #d&d #dnd storytime

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 3

Good Omens story. 

As always a big thank you to @brokencasbutt67-writer

Warnings: smut warning

Link to Chapter 2

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader/Crowley x  Aziraphale

______________

You followed Gabriel to a small cafe that was off of the main street. Stepping inside, you knew why he had brought you here. It was small, quiet, and nobody really was in the place.

“At least you know why I brought you here.”

Gabriel said as he led you to a small table in the back. The table was blocked by a rather large bookshelf. 

More privacy…

You looked back to the archangel with a displeased frown. He was lucky that he was so handsome. Had he been any other random guy; you would have left him by now. 

“Reading my mind is rude...again.” 

Gabriel chuckled. He already liked your face. It was too bad that he couldn’t “let” himself fall in love with you. That would be letting Michael down. It would be letting all of heaven down!  

He tried not to let himself frown too much. Gabriel had always stuck by the rule book. If there was a job that needed to be done then Gabriel got it done.   

“You’re not going to smite me are you?”

He said in an extra sassy tone. You looked down at the ground as Gabriel stepped forward. He reached down and tilted your chin up so you had to look at him. Why did he have to be so dreamy?

“There is nothing wrong with what you are. You are one of the most powerful creatures in creation. You deserve some respect.”

You stepped forward so that your body was pressed against the archangel. 

“Then why are you coming onto me?”

Gabriel chuckled and stepped back and sat down at the table. 

“Maybe I like you.” 

You sat down across from the archangel. His eyes were focused on you like a hawk. 

“I think you are interested in me because of my power. You strike me as someone that likes power so much that you would do anything for it.”

You replied with a pleased smirk. Gabriel was clearly a bit surprised by your answer but quickly recovered. 

“What is wrong with liking power? I get that you don’t trust me. It seems like you have been let down by a lot of people in your life. Not everyone is out to hurt you, beautiful. Let me gain your trust.

You considered his words. Gabriel was right about one thing. You weren’t one to trust anyone. Again, you thanked your mother for that one too. Anytime that you had trusted someone resulted in you being hurt! 

Would Gabriel hurt you? What if his intentions weren’t fucked up and he was a good lover? You really weren’t giving him a fair shake by just going off of Aziraphale and Crowley’s word. 

You trusted Aziraphale. Maybe that's why you were afraid to trust the archangel. That’s left you with your father’s opinion. Crowley would probably say anything to keep you from Gabriel. 

“Nothing is wrong with liking power. I have to keep myself safe. It isn’t my father, Aziraphale, or Beelzebub’s place to keep me safe.” 

Gabriel frowned. 

“You know Beelzebub?”

You nodded. Of course, you knew the prince of hell. They had been trying to win you over for ages now. It was a bit of a shock when the prince of hell turned up on your doorstep one day telling you your whole life story and wanting to “get to know you.” It was no secret to you that the prince of hell really didn’t give a damn about knowing who you were. They were interested in the power that you could bring them. It was definitely an awkward friendship! Awkward was the best way to put it. The two of you didn’t go to the movies or out to eat. There was no Friday “friends” night where the two of you did anything.  

It was just Beelzebub turning up at your doorstep and questioning you about your latest doings or how your powers were working out. They would lounge about your apartment for a day or two before disappearing again. 

For the first few months of your “relationship” with Beelzebub, you wondered if the prince was interested in you in the “romantic” sense. That was quickly shot down when you nonchalantly asked if they “dated” often. The poor being just looked at you with wide eyes. After that Beelzebub's visits became few and far between. 

You hadn’t even told Crowley of your friendship with Beelzebub. After learning of your father’s last run-in with the prince of hell, you had often wondered what exactly it was Beelzebub’s interest was with you. It didn’t take you long to figure it out. It was the power. If the prince of hell had you on their side then they could potentially be unstoppable. 

Feeling like a bit of a hypocrite, you smiled at Gabriel. Maybe the idea of power was appealing after all. If you accepted his advances then you could have plenty of power at your disposal as well. 

“Yes. I know Beelzebub. I don’t know if you would consider it a friendly relationship or not. Maybe just an awkward acquaintanceship.” 

Gabriel laughed. 

“I’ve met Beelzebub. It wasn’t the best of days.” 

You smirked. 

“Oh I know all about that day in your life.” 

Gabriel’s smirk fell instantly and for a moment you were afraid that he would try to attack you. You stood up with a smile and walked behind the archangel. He didn’t move but instead looked at the table in front of him furiously. 

Maybe the two of you could have a pleasant exchange of powers after all? You knew that Crowley would probably through the biggest hissy fit known to man. You could practically hear him yelling all the way from the house at the meet thought of sleeping with Gabriel. 

Aziraphale...you didn’t even want to think about that one. You felt guilty about that one.  Aziraphale was the one person that you didn’t like to think of hurting. You could only hope that if this thing with Gabriel turned into something that your family would understand. 

As you stood looking at Gabriel’s back that feeling of attraction came surging right back.  You snapped your fingers, leaving yourself dressed in a long black dress that left little to the imagination. 

With a smirk you walked behind Gabriel and wrapped your arms around him. The archangel stiffened for a moment before he slammed you against the wall. His eyes looked hungrily down your body. 

“I think you like to play games. I must say that I am not at all surprised.” 

Gabriel lifted your thigh and placed it over his hip. 

“You are playing hard to get then you are dressing like this for my attention. Here I am. I think you are just afraid to get with me because it would upset daddy Crowley.”

The taunt hit you on a new personal level. You scowled at Gabriel a moment before reaching out and pulling the overgrown archangel to you.

“Kiss me, asshole.” 

Gabriel looked a little surprised by your sudden outburst. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow at first before increasing to a hungry passion driven make out. You had the feeling that he was about to be bossy or as Crowley put it “the biggest bitch on the planet.” Even his kisses were commanding.

“I want to know what the rest of you tastes like...unless you want to get your father’s permission first.” 

Gabriel said in your head as he pressed himself against you. Your eyes snapped open. For some reason, you were afraid to see Crowley standing in the corner ready to kick Gabriel’s ass back to heaven. Upon realizing that there was no Crowley in the corner, you focused your attention back on Gabriel. 

“Just get me somewhere, angel.” 

Gabriel pulled you tighter to him. 

“I thought that you would never ask!” 

When you opened your eyes again, you stood in a hotel suite. Gabriel stood behind you taking his suit jacket off. He backed you against the wall and held your hand over your head. 

“You’re mine.”

Gabriel said in a deep commanding tone. You pressed your legs together. God, why was his voice like a vibrator on your clit? 

Before you could give any objection, Gabriel’s mouth was on yours. You knew that you could fight back and be difficult. The idea sounded fun, however, at the same time, the human in you said no. Your human side wanted to be dominated. The human in you wanted to be weak for the archangel. The demon in you, however, was fighting mad! How could you let some angel show you who was boss?! 

The better question was how were you not supposed to start developing feelings for the archangel? One date in and you were beginning to feel “things.” Why you weren't sure? Gabriel still hadn’t “warmed” up to you. There was nothing in the date that showed that he would be a “sweetheart.” What were you supposed to expect anyway?

“You’re mine to touch. Mine to have and mine to please.”

You swallowed as his teeth sunk into the soft flesh of your neck. 

“Gabriel...”

You whimpered his name as he continued to suck deep purple bruises on your neck. How would you explain that on to your father, you had no idea. Crowley and Aziraphale weren’t stupid.  They would both certainly know what love bites were. 

You could always say that you got into a bar fight and some jerkwad punched you in the neck. There was no way that they would fall for that. 

“Stop thinking about your parent would you? I am trying to make love to you.” 

Gabriel said coldly. He barely lifted his mouth from your mouth before biting down harder. You whimpered Gabriel’s name as his free hand squeezed your ass.

“Yes. Keep saying my name. Say that you are mine.”

“Gabriel.”

“Say that your mine.”

He said, curtly. Gabriel knew that those words would be a real struggle for you today. He slowly stood up straight before letting his finger traced his finger over your cleavage. 

“You’re mine, Y/n. I think that you like knowing it too. The demon in you makes you not want to say yes. I also know that you want to make love as much as I do. I won’t touch you until you give me what I want. I’m going to break you in, Y/n. You’ll be submissive to me whether you like it or not. You can be sassy as much as you want but you’ll give me what I want too...”

You swallowed as he slipped a hand up your thigh. 

“Damn it, yes!”

“Sorry?”

He replied, innocently. 

“I’m yours.”

“See. Was that so hard?”

Gabriel waded you legs apart and lifted you up by your thighs. You reached out to pull the archangel to you by his tie. Gabriel quickly grabbed your hands. 

“Naughty girl. Tell me, has anyone touched you? Some nasty human maybe?”

You shook your head quickly. Gabriel was clearly pleased with your response as he pressed his body against yours. You wrapped your legs around the archangel’s waist. 

“I like a girl with fight in her.”

“You struck the jackpot then.”

You sassed. Gabriel's hand squeezed the plump flesh of your ass. You hissed as the heat seared through you. 

“I also like a girl that I can break into what I want.”

Meanwhile, 

Aziraphale  stood in the kitchen making his fourth cup of tea since the time that you left. He looked up when Crowley walked into the kitchen looking confused. 

“Is Y/n still not home?”

Aziraphale shook his head. 

“No, I tried calling her phone and she’s not answering. I’m a little worried, Crowley.” 

Crowley put his hands on the counter and looked down at the floor. 

“How long does it take for a girl to pick out a face wash?”

Aziraphale shrugged.

“I don’t think 5 hours is a suitable amount of time.” 

Crowley muttered a few curse words under his breath. 

“I am going to put a GPS on that girl! If she is with that archangel, I am going to find Adam and asking him to change his mind on restarting the apocalypse. Screw that, I am going to find them myself.” 

Aziraphale winced. 

“Do you really think that it is a good idea to go out and stalk around London looking for her? We don’t even know where Gabriel would have taken her.” 

Crowley spun around. 

‘I can feel her. Kinda like a sixth sense….I’m following that! You stay here in case she gets home before me!”

Aziraphale put a hand over his face. It was about to  be a long night in London.

__________

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#Good Omens #Gabriel x Reader #Good Omens fan fiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #Crowley #aziraphale #Gabriel #Time to Waste #Good Omens reader insert #reader insert #Time to Waste Story

[valiantthewriter]

All Things For You

The following program contains: Financial Dom Peter, Sugar Daddy stuff, Daddy kink, D/s dynamics. Part 1 of my fic on AO3. Viewer discretion is advised.

They met in a museum in a nanotechnology exhibit where Tony was speaking on upcoming developments with nanotech to a group of college freshman. That's when he saw him, all puppy eyes and the sweetest grin that made his nose wrinkle. The boy was clad in a baggy Columbia sweater and a pair of sinfully tiny denim short, his hand raised high in the air.

“Yes, Mister…?” Tony began, desperate to know this lovely creature's name. He couldn't help the way his eyes raked over the boy’s lithe form, from his slender shoulders to his creamy thighs to his knobbly ankle bones. He wanted nothing more that to kiss those little bones, to worship the ground this boy walked on.

“Peter Parker, Mr. Stark. I have a question about what you think the ultimate goal nanotech should be used for? What are the top three ways you would want to see it used?” the sweet boy, no, Peter asked.

Yeah, Tony was smitten.

-

Tony might have done some digging of the illegal kind to find out as much as he could about Peter Parker. He learned that Peter was a freshman at Columbia. He learned Peter was eighteen and impressively clever if his grades said anything about it. Tony wanted nothing more than to learn more about Peter, to get to know him on every level.

-

He got his wish, even if he manipulated the situation. Tony arranged a lecture to be held specifically for freshman at Columbia. The goal of this lecture was to get the students interacting and speaking about their favorite STEM topics. Ah, the joys of being a genius with the funds to build another lab.

Tony held his breath as he watched dozens of students flood into the lecture hall, finally breathing once more when he spotted that adorable head of curls walk through the door. Today's attire was just as sweet as the museum. Peter wore a pair of tight, black shorts and and a light purple sweater that kept falling off his shoulder. His cheeks were dusted with some type of powder that shined gold in the lecture hall lights.

“Hello freshman of Columbia!” Tony spoke into the mic with a clap of his hands. He grinned at the room but his eyes were trained on Peter's face. “Rumor has it that you are the brightest students here, a select group of students chosen for this lecture. That has to feel pretty good.”

The room cheered. Tony grinned, staring at Peter. Peter looked away with a blush.

“You all know who I am and I'm here to get to know all 30 of you today. Let's get to know each other some? Let's start with Mr. Parker, the bright young man I met in the museum,” Tony said, walking the stage and turning on his wireless mic, “Go ahead and stand up, Mr. Parker. Tell us a little about you and any ongoing projects you have going on,” the older man continued, gesturing with his hands for Peter to stand.

A small frown, barely lasting a moment, crossed Peter's face before he stood. Without a hint of shyness he began to introduce himself.

“I'm Peter. I like biochemistry and bioengineering. I'm currently working on a project to make a tensile rope made out of materials similar to spider silk,” the young man said, biting his lip at the end, looking at Tony for approval.

Lord, smite him now or let the boy be his. There was no sign of lightning nor fire and brimstone. Tony took that as a sign from the universe to proceed.

“Fascinating, Mr. Parker. Perhaps you can speak with me more about that later,” Tony suggested, shooting his shot. Why was he worried? He was who he was.

Peter merely smirked. Tony felt like he was stripped bare, like Peter was seeing right through him.

-

“Tell me, Mr. Stark, what am I getting out of this arrangement?” Peter asked, taking a sip of his champagne.

They were alone in a private dining room in a restaurant he thought would impress the boy. Instead, Peter took in the sights with indifference and ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu. Tony couldn't find it in himself to be anything but in awe of the beautiful boy in front of him. Peter was swirling the bubbly liquid in his glass, looking at Tony through his lashes. He was mesmerized.

“What was that, sweetheart?” the older man asked, rubbing his eyes to make them focus again. Peter simply grinned.

“I really hate repeating myself, Mr Stark,” Peter admonished, his grin becoming devilish, “but you're a very handsome man so I'll make an exception. I asked what I'm getting out of this arrangement.” Peter took another sip of champagne. Tony watched the way his throat moved, imagining so many things.

“I don't understand,” he responded, and truly, he didn't. Peter was too distracting with his collar bones accented by his off the shoulder blouse and his lips and-

“My allowance, what you expect of me, getting me a credit card. You know how this works, right? I'm too pretty to not get anything out of this,” Peter said in an exasperated tone, leaning back in his seat. Under the table his dainty foot rubbed Tony's calf.

Fuck. This shouldn't be so hot. He didn't let people do this to him or talk to him like this. Peter just made it so fucking hot.

“How much do you want?” Tony asked, truly at a loss. Peter was obviously priceless, so how could he have a say in that.

“I'm so glad you said that, Daddy. What a good answer,” Peter cooed in an approving tone. It made Tony glow, like he was doing something right and good. “My bills are more important than yours. My wants are more important than yours. So, if you want this, if you want me, then you better get me a nice present.”

Fuck, why was that hot? Tony almost groaned being called ‘Daddy’. It had a nice ring to it. This was clearly a challenge that Tony felt he could beat. After all, he was made of money.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. I already have an idea on what to get you,” Tony said, glowing from Peter's praise.

Peter scoffed, downing the rest of his champagne. “I'm not your sweetheart yet. You want a starstruck co-ed? Go get one. You want me? Earn it.”

-

Tony's stomach was full of butterflies and his nerves turned the wings of those butterflies into razors, cutting up his insides. He was meeting Peter tonight for dinner at the finest sushi restaurant in New York, at Peter's request. Well, Tony felt like it was more of a demand and that sent a shiver down his spine.

The beautiful, young boy asked for a gift and Tony felt like he really delivered on this. He spent all week fretting over what to get, finally stumbling across something in Tiffany's. He purchased an intricate Tiffany key made of white gold and covered in diamonds that hung on a white gold chain. If Peter wasn't pleased with that he had a backup gift of a diamond and sapphire cuff bracelet that looked like vines that would wrap around the boy's wrist.

Tony was waiting in the lobby for Peter to arrive. He had sent a limo to Peter's apartment. Tony was wearing one of his Armani suits with a red tie that he kept adjusting due to his anxiety.

Peter stepped into the restaurant clad in black skinny pants that looked painted on and a sheer white top with a red crop top underneath. He looked like sin.

“Hi, Tony. I'm starving, let's eat. I hope you got another private room,” Peter said, walking up to Tony and kissing his cheek before looping their arms together. He was clearly waiting for Tony to escort him.

The hostess, clad in a beautiful blue kimono, looked them up and down before grinning. She clearly knew what was up. “Right this way, gentlemen. We have the finest room ready for you, Mr. Stark,” she said in a professional tone, leading the way to the room and sliding open the wooden door.

The room was beautiful, small, and intimate. The lighting was a light gold that made Peter's skin glow. The room itself was decorated in a traditional Japanese teahouse, full of fine vases and paintings that looked priceless. There was already a bottle of the most expensive sake in the restaurant.

“Your server will be Mike and he will take excellent care of you tonight. I’ll bring him over immediately to bring you an appetizer tray on the house,” the hostess said, giving a small bow before exiting the room and shutting the door.

Peter looked from the table to Tony expectantly, clearing his throat and raising a brow, a look that clearly said ‘Well?’

Tony rushed to pull out a chair for Peter, his breath taken away as the younger man smiled at him, all perfect teeth and bright eyes. “Thank you, Tony. Let's enjoy our meal and then we can talk business. Sound good?” Peter asked, his tone sounding more like an order than a question.

“Yes...um...that sounds great, Peter. So...how is school?” Tony stammered, feeling even more nervous now that he was sitting across from this beautiful creature. He felt out of sorts, never having this problem before. Tony was a confident man, a powerful man, and yet he felt weak in the presence of a college freshman.

Peter looked down at his nails, examining the french manicure he had. “It's going well. I'm passing all my classes and my web project is perfect, as expected. I'm working on an engineering project with my friend  Ned on a way to utilize the web substance. We are thinking wrist braces would be efficient and rather cool,” Peter said, loosening up some as he spoke about his project, an innocence coming through before he put his indifferent mask back on. It made Tony's heart still in his chest.

Tony was about to reply when their server walked in the door carrying a tray full of dumplings, rangoons, pickled vegetables, and shrimp tempura. It all smelled and looked amazing. The server set down each dish on the table.

“Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Mike and I shall be taking care of you this evening. Would you gentlemen like for me to pour you some sake?” Mike asked, reaching for the bottle. Tony looked to Peter and Peter nodded to the server.

“This sake is of the highest quality and is imported directly from Japan. It is best served warm as we have it set up here. Please enjoy. I'll bring the sushi selection shortly,” Mike said, pouring the sake and water from the pitcher on the table for Tony and Peter. He left with a small bow.

Peter lifted the sake cup to his lips, taking a sip and smiling. “I don't normally like sake, but this is great. Excellent choice,” Peter complimented, rewarding Tony with a smile and a brush of his foot against Tony's leg beneath the table.

“Only the best,” Tony said, sitting up straight and preening from Peter's approval, “The projects you're working on sound fascinating. If you want, you can always bring your brace design to my lab. I can look it over for you.” After all, he was a genius.

“Perhaps. You have to earn my company though, remember?” the younger man teased, pulling his foot away and picking up a piece of shrimp tempura with his chopsticks, biting into it with a moan. The sound went straight to Tony's cock.

Tony watched Peter as he ate, mesmerized by everything the boy did, from chewing to how his hands moved so gracefully with the chopsticks. Peter noticed the attention and offered Tony a small smile and a dumpling.

“You need to eat, Mr. Stark. Have a bite,” Peter said, letting out a noise of approval as Tony took the offered dumpling, “Is it good? It looks good,” Peter continued, offering a shrimp tempura to Tony.

Being fed was a wonderful feeling. He felt a little embarrassed, but also nurtured and cared for. It was an odd combination that he ruminated on as he chewed.

Suddenly, his forehead was poked with a pair of chopsticks and he was brought back to reality. “Bad Daddy, no overthinking. Eat your dumplings,” Peter ordered, happily going back to eating and chattering away about some chemical engineering project team he was hoping to get on.

The boy was smart, so incredibly smart. He was funny and bratty and beautiful. Peter deserved to be spoiled and cared for, deserved whatever he wanted.

His thoughts were interrupted once more by the server rolling in a cart full of sushi. There was a wide variety for them to choose from and Tony deferred to Peter's preferences. The bill was adding up and Tony couldn't be happier. Why was that?

“This all looks so good. Let's eat so we can get to the good part,” Peter said, gracefully picking up a piece of salmon sashimi and popping it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully and gave another approving moan. “Tell me about your work week.”

And Tony did. He discussed his troubles with the Research & Development department and their poor designs for the latest Stark Tablet. He complained about how the customer service stats dropped a little and people were taking to Twitter. He spoke of the energy efficiency project he was working on personally and this lasted over the course of the meal.

“It sounds like you have your hands full,” the younger man commented, leaning back in his seat, curls falling over his honey brown eyes. He looked delectable.

“At times, yes,” Tony responded, feeling his palms get sweaty. It seemed like now was the moment of truth, the moment deciding whether or not he got to keep Peter and his attention. Tony pressed the service button on bottom of the table and Mike returned with a Tiffany blue gift bag containing Peter's present. There was a second gift bag kept behind Mike's back. “I hope you like it.”

Peter took the bag with a grin, that grin getting wider as he saw the necklace sized Tiffany box. “You have good taste so far. Let's see what you got,” Peter said, slowly opening the box. Tony took in Peter's reaction, watching the thoughtful expression on his face. “It's lovely. Thank you, Tony. What is it that he has behind his back?” the younger man asked, holding his hand out.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, stomach flipping. “It’s...um...a second gift. Open it?” God, when did he become such a nervous wreck? He never stuttered and was never at a loss for words, his mouth getting him into trouble more often than not. But right now, he wanted to be sweet. He wanted to be good.

Peter took the gift out of the shiny gold bag and opened the box. He gasped, and gave a genuine smile to Tony. “This is gorgeous! You did such a good job!” Peter praised, putting the cuff of with a sigh, “Mike, dear, could we have some time alone?” At Peter's request, the server left.

“Did I do well, Peter?” Tony asked, licking his dry lips and seeking approval. He hoped he did well - no, he needed to do well. He needed to impress Peter though he didn't quite understand why.

“You did so well, Daddy. I'm so proud,” Peter cooed, reaching across the table for Tony's hand, clasping the older man's with both of his hands. They looked so small…

“Thank you. I'm so glad you're happy,” Tony said, voice raspy with nerves and desire. Peter gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Good. Let's get down to business and discuss terms. I request an allowance of $5000 a month for me to play with. You will pay my rent for my apartment in Manhattan, it's $1500 a month, along with my cell phone and utilities. You can see me two times a week and more if I want to see you. Sound good so far?” Peter stated, looking at Tony with a serious expression. It was so cute and caused Peter to have such a sweet little frown.

“Sounds good so far. What else do you want?” He would give this boy so, so much, even more than what he was asking for.

“We can have sex because I think you are attractive. I like to bottom but I am still the little prince in charge. We can discuss sexual limits at another time once you've earned it,” Peter continued, reaching across the table with his free hand to brush through Tony's perfectly styled hair, messing it up. “Have you ever done this before?”

“No.” Was that okay?

“I like newbies. Don't worry, I'm a fair prince and I'll take care of you if you take care of me. I know what men like you want.”

“And what's that?”

“For a pretty thing like me to put you in your place.”

Part 2

#val writes #sugar daddy tony #sugar baby peter #fin dom peter #tony x peter #tonyxpeter #peter x tony #peterxtony

[clairelutra]

stars are falling all for us (1/1)

Summary: In which Noctis saves Luna. Ageswap!AU

(ao3 link)

When Noctis met Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae, she was eight, and he was twelve.

He'd thought she was kind of weird at first, with her too-formal way of talking and her somber stare and her talk of Kings and Oracles and destinies, but then he'd decided to call her 'Luna' and it had made her giggle, and a piece of her had lodged itself so deep in his heart he'd never dig it back out again.

Not that he'd tried much.

The thing was... the Oracle was invincible. The Oracle was a child prodigy who pulled off miracle after feat after triumph, otherworldly magic and worldly salvation poured into the shell of a young girl. The Oracle had awakened Shiva when she was ten, had begun traveling to cure the Scourge when she was twelve, had become a public figurehead when she was fourteen.

In the eyes of the world, the Oracle wasn't quite human.

But Luna was just a girl.

And it was that Luna that wrote to him in their shared notebook. That Luna was scared of the whole world and forging through it anyway, sometimes confessing her worries in shaky handwriting and apologizing with borders of animal stickers, sometimes sheepishly asking for advice after barely packing a tightly scrawled story within the confines of the paper, sometimes covering her whole page with sketched flowers and mountains and people and letting her innocent musings and gentle poetry weave through the cracks.

She was delicate and precious and vulnerable and it drove him up the wall that no one else seemed to see it—or care.

But if advising her and cheerleading her in secret helped, he could do that. If she needed consoling or reassuring or sympathy, he could do that too. If offering to kick the ass of anyone who made her sad meant that he was offering to take on the whole world for her, well...

Someone had to do it.

But for eight long years, he was an ocean away. Words were all he had to give her, and the pain of helplessness set up shop right over that piece of her. She deserved all the good things in the world, deserved to be cherished and protected until she was ready, and if he could switch places her, he would do it in a heartbeat. If he could join her quest to keep her safe then that was all he dreamed of. If he could pay a price for her to wake up somewhere safe and warm with no prophesies or duties or pain to weigh on her slight shoulders, he'd have paid it ages ago.

And that was why he was so profoundly relieved to learn that they'd gotten engaged. Sure, it'd be on paper more than anything else, but even if he barely ever saw her, he could still do things like send the Kingsglaive with her, pay her way to better hotels, and make sure she had decent food on the road.

All he had to do was get to Altissia.

And then everything went to shit.

He wasn't quite paying as much attention as he probably should be to his battle with a literal god, but the altar where Luna stood was crumbling with every one of the Hydrean's brutal passes and he was milliseconds from warping down there, grabbing her, and getting the hell out, city be damned.

(The flicker of the look on her face when she'd met his eyes after her speech was still stuck in his mind—heartbreak and resignation and gratitude—and it was making him want to crawl out of his skin.)

But she was standing, standing, bleeding but standing, and there was a rampaging Astral in front of him who wasn't listening and technically he had bigger problems.

And then she wasn't standing anymore, stumbling to her knees and stilling, and Noctis went cold all over.

He was warping down before he'd made the conscious choice to do so.

A blink between and she was in her arms, unbearably fragile and terrifyingly cold.

"Noctis? The Hydrean—"

But Noctis was looking behind her.

"My, my. Saving the girl instead of the city? How downright heroic of you."

Ardyn, with all his slime and crooked edges and unscrupulous leers, was entirely too close to Luna, Noctis decided. That he was getting closer was untenable.

"Now what kind of look is that? I'm only here to he—"

Ultima materialized in Noctis's palm, the tip pointed at Ardyn's throat as close to the jugular as Noctis could manage with numb, slippery fingers and shaking hands.

The smile on Ardyn's face froze, then slunk away. "Tetchy, are we?"

"Get lost."

"Now—"

"Get. Lost."

Luna let her nose dip into the crook of Noctis's neck, her hands feebly fisting in the material of his shirt, silent and trusting.

There was a long moment in which Ardyn wasn't smiling at all, and the cold, calculating look it left behind was almost comforting in its honesty. It said that he was sizing up how easy it would be to kill them, and whether it would be worth it in the end.

That was okay. Noctis was analyzing what Ardyn's fighting style might be like and running through possible ways to get Luna to solid, unwrecked ground so he could fight without worry.

Then the tension released, Ardyn's oily leer making a reappearance as he rocked back on his heels. "Then might I offer the happy couple my congratulations?"

"No."

A flicker of irritation. "A few words of advice then."

"No." Noctis bared his teeth. "Get lost."

Ardyn shrugged it off in a too-graceful motion. "Have it your way, I suppose."

Noctis didn't lower his sword until Ardyn had reboarded the Niflheim ship and the whine of the engines had faded into the crashing waves.

"Hey," he said as soon as he could breathe again. "You okay?"

Up this close, it was obvious to anyone who cared to look that Luna wasn't. Even below the new pallor, her eyes were fever-glassy, her grasp painfully weak. Her own breathing rasped, sitting like her body didn't want to hold her up anymore.

"Leviathan—" she started, then blinked and gave her head a little shake. Behind them, the waves claimed another few of the altar's stones. "No, the— the ring. Your father sent me to deliver the ring."

The ring.

Noctis felt sick.

The Ring of Lucii. The ring that no one but Lucian royalty was supposed to wear, that smited all others—if Luna had been carrying it since Insomnia went down...

She fumbled a chain from around her neck, pulling it over her head and setting its makeshift pendant, the thick-banded ring Noctis had seen on his father's hand all his life, in her open palm. On some metaphysical level, it smelled like death.

Death that was connected to the Oracle's magic, and slowly but surely siphoning it away and taking her lifeforce with it.

Noctis picked up the ring, unceremoniously snapped the chain, and jammed it on his finger, shoving his own magic into it to sever the link.

The results were immediate.

First and foremost, Noctis had an intense urge to go take a nap. The demands of the ring settled under his skin like a cool mist, a gentle downer. It took him a minute to adjust to it, the press of other on his brainstem only coming to bear once the sleepiness had passed—and that was an unpleasant ordeal all on its own.

In the time it took Noctis to acclimate to that, Luna started breathing easier. It was impossible to miss it up this close. How much of it was because he'd taken the ring and how much of it was because the seas had calmed, he didn't know—

—because the seas had calmed. Leviathan had traded city-wrecking for just hovering above the altar, inscrutable.

Then she spoke, that screeching-grinding-otherworldly language of the Astrals, and Noctis was the one burying his face in the crook of Luna's neck this time, a splitting headache crashing over him in the waves Leviathan was known for.

And then it was over, and Luna had just enough time to shout a thank you! at the goddess before she was gone.

The tempest subsided, indiscriminately dropping boats and debris alike into the water.

"...Ow," said Noctis plainly.

The delicate shoulder that pressed against his nose shook with laughter. Quiet laughter, but clear laughter. Already her lungs sounded better.

He raised his head, and—

She was smiling. Dark eyelashes beaded with seawater, blonde hair plastered against her forehead and temples, full mouth resting in the happy curve it was just made for.

—and he wanted to cry.

"You're okay," he said, his voice cracking as the realization hit his numb chest in full.

"I am," she murmured, rasping but reassuring.

"You're okay," he repeated, trying to convince himself because this was all so real and yet not real at all. He cupped her face, feeling the soft give of her cheeks, the strength of the muscles in her jaw, the solid reality of the bone below it—she felt real. "You're okay," he marveled.

"Mhm," she agreed, her smile taking a turn for the fond.

The tears barely stopped as a lump in his throat before they were blurring his vision and making hot tracks down his cheeks through the wet chill.

He brought their foreheads together so he could feel the hot rush of her breath on his face, see those eyes up close. His voice broke into a whisper when he said, "You're okay."

There was a subtle strength coming back into her delicate fingers, and he could feel it when she reached up to curl them around his wrist. "And so are you."

And so they were.

She'd grown during the ten years he'd spent in the crystal.

Obviously—she was twenty-six now, not sixteen. If Prompto and Gladio and Ignis had changed and matured in the past decade, then it could only be expected that she would double it.

It still put a funny swoop in his stomach to see her like this, grounded and graceful and steady.

"You're staring," she noted with a musical lilt.

Noctis flinched, flustered. Power and wisdom of a hundred late kings and he still got shy around her. Smiling sheepishly, and he said, "You're... pretty nice to stare at."

It made her blush, and the sight sank into his heart about as much as his ego.

It was a quiet moment in the middle of the rebuilding efforts—one of those moments when he could slip into the apartment across from his and watch Luna press flowers or help her clean her counters or play human pillow while she napped—and it was in this particular moment that it occurred to him that... there was no reason why he couldn't kiss her.

Aside from the bit where she was all the way across the table from him and it would be a lot of work to get up and walk around to her side, but in general. In the spirit of it.

And in the spirit of that...

"We should get married," he decided, apropos of nothing.

She paused, paper-thin sylleblossom held halfway between the press and the big paper envelope where she was keeping them until she got a better storage case. "Pardon?"

Aw hell, even if kissing her wasn't jumping the gun, this definitely was. "I mean." He cleared his throat. "We're still engaged, aren't we?"

"That was not our choice," she said, bemused. Which was probably a clear enough answer on its own. "And the point of it is rather defeated at this point, is it not?"

"...Yeah, I guess." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she put the pressed sylleblossom away. He didn't really want to give this up without getting a clear no, but what could he say?

Luna spoke again before he could decide. Blushing rosy enough to match the pink carnation in her hand, she confessed, "I... I think I'd rather like to marry you though, if you found it agreeable."

"Yeah?" Noctis rose out of his chair. Suddenly, he found that it was worth the effort of walking to her side of the table for the sake of kissing her. Weird how these things happened.

She nodded, flushing a little deeper. She was always beautiful, but he could watch the little crease at the corner of her mouth for hours right now. "It... it would put the people's minds at ease if you were to take a queen, after all, and a wedding might be just the thing to lift their spirits in a time like this."

He half-leaned, half-sat against the edge of the table next to her chair. "That's pretty... rational."

She nodded, a slow, tiny motion, her fingers curling on the worn, polished wood of the old table as she stared at them like they held the secrets of the universe.

Not that the view from here wasn't pretty nice, but he wanted to see her face, and it gave him the perfect excuse to touch her. Trailing his knuckles over the curve of her jaw, he encouraged her to look up at him. "...Can I still kiss you?"

That corner of her mouth jumped into a shy smile. "...If it would please you."

If the words in themselves were cool, then the eager, almost possessive way her arms circled around his neck to yank him closer sure wasn't, her nails scratching his back through his thin t-shirt and her cheek warm in his palm.

Warm, warm, warm and heady, seductive in its innocence and calming in its fervor. It had him bracing his weight against the back of her chair before long, and then on the table too, that piece of her in his chest heavy and aching and needing and singing.

"All those years ago... I was so excited to marry you," she whispered between kisses. "I think the servants must have become quite sick of me by the time came, I could talk of little else. I... I loved you so, and I was f-finally going to see you again, and it was like this. I only wished..."

"Only wished what?" he asked in a croak. Maybe he'd give her anything she asked right now, anything at all, but that wasn't special. That was just a given.

He wanted a bed. Not for sex, just so he could wrap her in a million blankets and protect her from everything that came her way, But then, that was just a given, too.

The smile was back again, and he could taste it this time. "Only wished that you had been the one to ask me."

Of all the—

He pulled back as far as she would let him so he could squint at her.

She diverted her eyes, flushing deeper again. She looked distractingly kissed.

There was really only one reply he could give to that.

"Hey Luna," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. "Will you marry me?"

It was unfair how delighted she looked. He was almost tempted to ask again.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good," he said fervently, and kissed her again.

#lunoct #ffxv #lunafreya nox fleuret #noctis lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #my fic #belated crosspost #see ao3 posting for real commentary lmao

[everything-is-by-design]

Beauty From Pain

Part 1. Female reader. Hey folks, wanted to do some more original content regarding Lucifer. This one has a kind of melancholy and red rage aspect to it. Excuse me and my lack of ability to actually speak Enochian - I used a translator to give the story some pop. Next chapter will have some more fluff and smut in it hopefully. Lucifer shows a lot of emotion regarding the reader which is a nice change. Enjoy! Xo.

Word Count: 3.1k

Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, insanity, violence

After being trapped for years in a hell-like environment, the reader finds something she wasn't expecting. Even though it feels as though it’s too good to be true, the reader contemplates what the word ‘Mate’ really means.

For the last five years you’d been trapped inside a sentient forest. It’s trees would coil and extend for miles upon miles. You’d been trapped there by the Archangel Michael after refusing his advances. He had been quite smitten with you and you appreciated his friendship until he told you of the apocalypse. You’d never wanted to be his Mate and never showed signs of being his true Mate. As punishment for rejecting him, he threw you into a small forest and cursed it to never end and for you to never be able to escape.

Luckily, the forest spoke to you and taught you ancient magics that had been lost to even the most skilled witches of modern day. Your magic grew beyond the potency of Michael’s and one day a white light shone from your body - breaking the curse. You stepped from it and bowed to the trees, thanking them for keeping you safe. Now, you needed to find that feathery-assed bastard and rip his wings from his back.

For a month you traveled in search of the archangel with no luck and you realized that your once warm heart had turned to ice. Thirsty for blood of any kind, you infiltrated a vampire nest but you were shocked to find two hunters were already there. They were surrounded by at least ten vampires and you weren’t sure they’d make it out alive. You stepped out of your hiding place and cleared your throat. Every vampire and the hunters turned to look at you.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the vampires asked.

You shrugged and waved your hand over them. The same white light erupted from your palm and every monster in the room exploded into tiny particles of light. The hunters stared at you. Tilting your head to the side, you spoke in Enochian. It roughly translated into ‘name yourseves’. “Dooain amiran!”

When they didn’t respond, you attempted another phrase which was more along the lines of ‘speak your names’.

“Camliatza zomdv dooaipe,” You said slowly.

“Dean, is she speaking Enochian?” The tall wavy haired man said. The shorter honey haired man opened his mouth to speak before he was cut off by a flutter of wings. You didn’t hesitate, reaching for the angel blade on your belt and lunging at the sound. However, both hunters grabbed onto your arms before you could reach the angel.

You spouted profanities at the hunters in the ancient language as the angel approached you. He was a little shorter than ‘Dean’ but still stood with that pompous pride every angel had buried inside of them. His hair was black as raven’s feathers and he was clad in a suit and trench coat. He peered at you, “Who are you?”

You stayed quiet.

“You’re not of Heaven and yet you are fluent in our tongue. Who taught you?”

“The forest,” You spat at him, still struggling in the hunters’ grip. “Release me and I won’t kill them.”

“I have a feeling you’ll try to end my life though,” The angel said, keeping his face emotionless.

“Who are you?” You hissed.

“My name is Castiel,” He said a little quietly. You stopped struggling almost instantly.

“I have heard of you. You rebelled against Heaven for humanity.” The hunters kept you in their tight hold even though you’d completely relaxed.

Castiel’s eyes softened but his guard remained steady.

“Thank you, not many angels care about our well being,” You said as you looked up at him.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you’re human? You just evaporated ten vamps! That’s not human,” Dean sounded a little flustered.

“The forest gifted me with angelic magic,” You muttered.

“This forest of yours was it located on the Isle of Skye?” Castiel asked. “Sam, Dean, let her go. I do not believe she will harm us.”

“Winchesters?” You asked as they obeyed Castiel. You stayed on the floor and Castiel crouched down to your level. “Yes, it was. I survived by eating the apples from the Great Tree. They taught me everything I know.”

“Eden,” Castiel whispered.

“Like the Garden of Eden from Genesis?” Sam asked, eyes a little big with shock.

“Yes, only it is not so much of an Eden anymore. It has grown a sentience and stays in a perpetual evening dusk with very little sun. Only a few angels still have access to the Garden. Tell me, who trapped you there?” Castiel looked concerned for you which threw you off kilter a bit.

“Michael,” You growled. Castiel frowned and opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “You know the power of Eden. She gave me strength and gifts no mortal should possess. I want justice.”

“And what is your justice?” Castiel asked.

“Angel wings on a silver platter.” The last thing you remember is the feeling of your own twisted smile before blacking out.

You came to cuffed to a chair in some kind of building. You could not feel the earth around you, only cold concrete. This must be a bunker. There was a glass of water in front of you and you eyed it suspiciously. You perked up when you heard voices coming from a room away.

“So Michael cursed her to live in an ancient forest? Why?” You recognized Sam’s voice.

“Yeah, and what would be so bad about that place?I Isn’t Eden supposed to be Heaven on Earth?” Dean chimed in.

“She was sent there as some sort of punishment. You don’t understand the power of that place, Dean. If Michael cursed it, then it would have been like a prison and it would have driven her mad. The silence and the darkness would have stripped her sanity in a matter of days. Eden kept her alive and I’m not too sure why but it has bestowed upon her all of its gifts.” Castiel said, sounding nervous.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“It means that she’s very powerful and very dangerous. She didn’t evaporate those vampires, she smited them. It takes almost every angel in Heaven to be able to do that and she simply waved her hand. She is a new breed of being and we need to monitor her.”

“Is she as powerful as Chuck or Amara?” Dean’s voice lowered a little as if to hush himself. As if the names of God and his sibling were taboo.

“I have no idea what her power level is, Dean. I don’t even know if those Enochian handcuffs are going to hold her. If we let her go, then she will stop at nothing to find Michael and kill him.”

Dean chuckled, “Michael’s a dick, what’s the big deal?”

“That woman’s soul has been frozen in time for who knows how many years. Whatever little bit of humanity she has left will not be able to contain her rage. She will kill innocent people if she is free.”

You tuned out from the jibber-jabber and looked up to the ceiling. “Guess now is as good a time to pray as any. Lord, or whatever, I’m checking in from bum-fuck nowhere on the hunt for your asshole son’s head. Kindly point me in his direction, and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“You’ve got my vote, whoever you are,”  A new and deeper voice rang through the room. Your head snapped down and you locked eyes with another angel. However this one’s Grace was much brighter than Castiel’s. You jolted forwards in your chair but didn’t move very far due to the cuffs. It almost looked like this angel knew you. However, you’d never met him before so you figured you’d just imagined it.

“Who are you?” You asked as you tugged on the cuffs. You tried desperately to wriggle free but it was to no avail.

“Frantic to get away are we?” He grinned.

“Frantic to find out who the hell you are,” You said with a heavy handful of snark.

The angel’s eyes shone scarlet for a few moments and you relaxed a bit. Your blood thirst becoming more manageable. “Morning Star.”

He seemed to be caught completely off guard by your statement of him. He recovered quickly though. “Who might you be?”

“I am Y/N. The last child of Eden,” You spoke calmly to Lucifer, feeling at ease in his presence. The warmth of his Grace tickled your heart and you slowly felt it melting.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lucifer said, pretending to clean out his ears. “You’ve been living in Eden?”

“Imprisioned against my will by your brother, Michael,” You said, shifting in the cuffs inch by inch. You pondered breaking your wrist but quickly assumed that there would be some kind of warding against that kind of ‘slip’.

Lucifer made a face, “You must have pissed him off.”

You grinned maliciously, “Oh, yeah. I did and now I want him dead.”

Lucifer smirked at your ferocity. He was wearing a very fitted white tee and light blue denim jeans. Bare foot and his hair was damp. You eyed him as he walked around the table and out of the room. You sighed, a little put off that the only other archangel you’d met just left the damn room. You pondered asking him if he could lead you to Michael but had a feeling he already knew where his brother was.

Castiel and the Winchesters reentered the room. Castiel sat down in front of you. Eye to eye. However, you could still feel Lucifer’s light hiding around the corner…listening. “Tell me what Michael did to you.”

“And then you’ll let me go?” You scoffed.

“No,” Castiel said flatly.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re afraid of me. You’re all afraid of me. You live with the most powerful angel in Heaven and you’re afraid of me?”

“We don’t know what you are,” Sam said. He gestured to you, “Of course we know you were human but—”

“You’re not human anymore and that makes you dangerous,” Dean said, arms folded across his chest.

You frowned, “That’s a little racist.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest but Castiel hushed him. “You have to understand that you are a new breed of being and because of your predicament, you’ve become a Celestial being of unimaginable power.”

 You cocked an eyebrow, “If you try and kill me, Castiel, I will rip apart every sinew of your body so slow that you’ll—!”

You were cut off by Sam, “No, we weren’t planning to kill you.”

“But that’s what they do,” You nodded in Castiel’s direction. “They kill anything different. Look at the Nephilim. Did you know that angels came down to earth a thousand years ago and mated with humans? Did you know that they slaughtered every single Nephilim in front of their angelic parents? Absolute savagery.”

Sam and Dean looked at Castiel who kept his emotionless face steady.

“By your Heavenly standards, I am an abomination. For what? Indulging in a little fruit? Are you freaking kidding me? No wonder Lilith left the damn Garden. You’re all so full of shit!” You felt your anger building again and you started shouting profanities in Enochian. Castiel jumped over the table and pressed a finger to your forehead. You blacked out.

Waking up once more in a dizzy state, you noticed that no one was in the room. However, there was a key on the table in front of you. Was this a test? “Well, I’m obviously not going to use that.”

“Suit yourself,” Lucifer’s voice rang out from the other side of the room. You looked to your left and noticed that you must be in a library of sorts. He was sitting on a chair in the same outfit, sucking on a spoon that had been in a tub of yogurt.

“So, angels shower and eat food now? What else have I missed?” You scoffed. You looked at him when he didn’t respond. “You’re babysitting me aren’t you?”

Lucifer shrugged, “I volunteered.”

“And Cassie let you? Seems a bit irresponsible for him.” You said, turning your head back and eyeing the key. The key levitated off the table and slid into the lock of the cuffs. And then again on the other side and on your legs. You stood up and walked over to Lucifer. “Tell me where Michael is.”

“Why do you care so much?” Lucifer asked, taking another scoop of yogurt into his mouth. “What did he do?”

“That’s none of your business,” You growled, looking at the yogurt and making it explode in Lucifer’s face. Mistake.

Lucifer sat, covered in yogurt, red eyes locked with yours. He launched himself at you and pinned you by the throat against a book shelf. “Stupid girl, I should kill you right here.”

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t tried that before, but hey if you can make it stick then go for it.” You offered.

Lucifer’s eyes softened just a smidge and you felt your heart warm again. “You’re eternal.”

“Unfortunately,” You said. Lucifer loosened his grip but still kept you pinned. “What am I?”

This took Lucifer off guard.

“I didn’t love an angel and I turned into a monster. What am I?”

The red in Lucifer’s eyes faded to blue as realization hit him.

“Can you believe that? Just because I said no, I was cursed for all eternity.”

“You’re Michael’s Mate?” Lucifer asked, immediately letting you go. He looked incredibly pained by this realization.

Your eyes narrowed, “What? You can’t touch another angel’s Mate?”

“It’s frowned upon,” Lucifer wiped his hands on his jeans as if to get your scent off of him.

You smiled, “He asked me to be his Mate, Lucifer. I declined repeatedly. I didn’t feel the zing there. I knew something wasn’t right.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened a bit, “So, he pursued you and you rejected his advances. Then he punished you. That seems like something Michael would do.”

“Hmm,” You said, noticing absolutely zero bloodlust in Lucifer’s presence.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m calm. I mean, I know I have the most heated and undying fury inside of me. And I don’t know what the hell I am, but around you, I’m calm.” You looked up into Lucifer’s icy eyes which were now filled with terror.

“Michael is in the Cage,” Lucifer said, cleaning his throat.

“The same one Chuck locked you in?” You asked, leaning against the bookcase.

Lucifer rolled his eyes.

You held up a hand, “Hey I get it. You had every right to say no to your Dad’s plan. I would have done the same. Actually, I looked up to you. You know, for standing up for yourself and your beliefs. Did you know that there’s a whole religion built around you?”

You noticed a hint of blush lighting up Lucifer’s cheeks and held back a smile. You were making him uncomfortable. To be honest, you were loving it. Not in a cruel way, but in a ‘I’m making the devil blush’ kind of way.

You continued. “Plus, you’re the brightest light in the sky. You help people find their way in darkness.” You came to a sudden realization. “In the cover of Eden’s unending trees there was always a break in the canopy. I used to stare up at the Morning Star. I felt calm knowing something was watching over me. Actually, I feel the same calm now as I did then.”

Lucifer’s mouth gaped and your eyes went wider than dinner plates. You turned around and bolted towards the door of the bunker. No, no he can’t be.

With a flutter of wings, Lucifer appeared in front of you, bits of yogurt still in his hair. “Uh, no, you’re not leaving.”

“Okay, look. We both know what that calm feeling is and I’m really not in the mood to deal with it.” You said, making a move for the door again. Lucifer grabbed your wrist and swung you around so that you were in front of him again. “I need justice for…”

“No, it’s over. He’s gone,” Lucifer said, his grip on your wrist remained strong but not painful.

“You watched over me for so long and I didn’t recognize you.”

“Are you ashamed?”

“Did you know?”

Lucifer laughed, “What, that I had a celestial lover that was trapped in Eden? Take a wild guess.”

“You showed me the Tree of Knowledge. You kept me alive,” Your realization raced through your blood, heating it up. You were bubbling with excitement. “Release me, Lucifer.”

“You’ll run,” He said, looking a little sorrowful.

This was it, with Lucifer you imagined that you could be happy. Truly happy. However, you still didn’t know what exactly you were and after years of believing Chuck was shrouding you, you were completely wrong. This all seemed too easy. Too perfect. Maybe this was trick or a trap. You previously calm state vanished and your rage returned. You shoved Lucifer off of you and waved your hand, an angel blade appearing in your grasp. “You tricked me, this is too good to be true.”

Lucifer’s shocked and hurt gaze fell on you and he held up his hands in defence. “Y/N, listen to me. You’re letting the anger consume you. You’re letting Michael win. Remember who kept you safe. Me, that was me.”

You shook your head, “I remember being trapped in a never-ending maze of insanity. I remember Michael’s voice in my head taunting me. For years all I can remember is pain. He was to die.”

“Y/N,” Lucifer said, reaching for the angel blade in your heavy grasp. “You were meant to be Mine. You were my Mate. I’ve been watching over you since you were born. I have been your guardian.”

You could barely hear him, “He has to die. He has to die.”

Lucifer noticed your insanity bleeding through your deteriorating composed facade. He tried to laugh, “How would you feel if your sibling tried to take your most precious toy from you? He knew what you were to me. He wanted to hurt me.”

“Did it work?” You stared at the wall of the bunker.

“Yes, of course it worked. He stripped your humanity from you and drove you insane, just because he wanted to injure my pride.” Lucifer looked down at you.

“I wish I could forget.”

“You’d forget me too,” Lucifer said, quickly tugging the blade from your hand and throwing it across the bunker.

“I want to forget his wrath,” You murmured, your voice losing all intensity.

Lucifer nodded and placed a kiss on your forehead. You sighed and almost immediately relaxed. Actually, you felt like you were going to pass out. Did he just…?

#lucifer x reader #drama drama drama #superchick #beauty from pain #part 1 #original content #rage rage against the dying of an asshole #reader insert fancfiction #spn!lucifer #supernatural

[tierneytherapysblog]

TAR & FEATHERS.…..or THE WRATH OF GOD!

TIERNEY THERAPY

Just now·6 min read

There is a passage in the Bible ,I'm going to paraphrase it ,you can google it or better still get your hands on a Bible and check the correct wording but it goes something like this:

‘If you harm one hair on the head of a child of God, better for you to tie a milestone around your neck; climb the highest mountain; cast yourself into the deepest sea; than face The Wrath of God, on judgement day.’

Then check the Old Testament for examples of how The Wrath of God might be expressed.

Moses, a most faithful servant of god, his spokesman at that time, was told by god to touch the rock with his staff and water would flow for the tribe and without thinking he struck the rock for the same results; this caused god to condemn Moses to never seeing The Promise Land.

on the exodus from Egypt, it would have only taken a couple of days to reach the promise land, but because his chosen people kept doubting him an losing faith in him, the journey took 40 years and all the adults that came out of Egypt were condemned like Moses not to enter the promise land.

on this long journey, God arranged that they would win battles and overthrow those who stood against them but in one instance he told them when they overthrow this particular kingdom, do not take any plunder.

The two princes of the chief of one tribe were tempted, and they took plunder and hid it in their tents.

god confronted Moses telling him his commands were broken and he was going to smite the chosen people. Moses argued ,what would other nations think of his power if he were to have taken his people out of slavery and now to smite them.

God conceded on this point and stated

‘find the culprits, only they would be punished’.

Now reading this I imagined God meant the two princes who took the plunder for themselves; shock and horror when we learn that he thus charged that whole tribe with the crime of those two brother princes; separated that tribe from the rest of the chosen people; and caused the earth to open up an swallow the whole tribe, people, lock, stock and barrel.

[ I don't want to do all the work for you ,but check out how many innocent, unaware, persons were in that tribe]

In The New Testament, when Judas took his thirty pieces of silver to harm a hair of the head of The Son of Man, he suffered a horrible death.

When we do the math, it would be better to be ‘tarred and feathered’ in the present ‘than face The Wrath of God, for harming even one hair on the head of any one child of God.’

Its a frightening sobering thought.

Now, I am not a licensed clinical professional of the misused and abused mental health industry, but I want to present you with an imaginary situation and two possible responding scenarios.

A client comes to a therapy session suffering from nightmares and flashbacks, over an event they experienced in the past. They also present with other conditions caused as a reaction to the event, in their attempt to maintain some form of sanity. in the violation of their soul.

Scenario one:

Well done you!! You suffered a horrible event and you got through it to get here to tell your story. It shows how strong you are mentally and emotionally, that you staved off an event that would have floored an elephant. Take a bow! Congratulate yourself on how powerful you are! Now I know you feel broken and with feeling like you cant go on, but I don't want to damage your strength, destroy your fighting spirit by medicating you as the problem . No we are going to treat this as a Spiritual Illness; since it is in your past and cannot be treated in the present; we are going to surround you with the necessary people to empower you; its not going to be easiest not going to be nice; but you are going to come through this. Know you are not mentally ill, how you responded is not the problem, you were a victim, but we are going to help you change to become a victor.

Scenario two:

We fear for your sanity and well-being. You are presenting with PTSD, Depression, the need to Disassociate, we are worried about your Anger and the possibility of you Harming Yourself or Others. We are going to put you on a range of medications to manage these feelings, we suggest hospitalization until we can get the levels of medication worked out, and we then suggest working with our therapy team to learn how to cope with these feelings. This is going to he a long journey but over time with the right medication you should be able to have some form of a life in the future.

Looking at these two altogether different scenarios of the same situation:

Which in your opinion, offers hope and healing to the client, and which doesn’t?

Which empowers the client to stronger self belief and the ability to be part of the healing process and which doesn’t

Which of these scenarios might be construed to be part of the problem or part of the solution?

Which of these scenarios promotes the viewpoint that the client is the victim

Which of these scenarios offer the viewpoint of the client and their responses being the problem?

Which of these scenarios, is for both parties to be winners

Which of these scenarios suggest one winner and one loser?

Were your son or daughter to seek professional health, which scenario would you hope they would experience?

Which of these scenarios are likely to suffer The Wrath of God?

A third scenario:

I am sorry, I have to hold up my hands and admit we got it wrong. we were truly worried about your sanity and emotional wellbeing and felt the best course was to help you manage your feelings, but now seeing still in therapy [after weeks, months, years] we must admit we got it wrong.

‘Insanity is repeating the same actions over and over again expecting different results, and clearly this isn’t working.’

It has been suggested that all past trauma events cannot be treated in the present because they are a part of your history, that the belief is the only true way to heal this is spiritually. We would like to rectify this situation and your recover by hoping you would allow us to arrange this new therapy . There are a number of options, we an learn how to use this formula called

‘The Victory Principle’

and take you through the healing event; if you want to work with someone else; I would suggest we invite a Christian or Biblical psychologist to conduct the healing event; these are also licensed clinical professionals. Your third option is to work with the creator of this formula and if you choose this path; as he is not a licensed clinical professional; we would like to sit in on this event and see it through to the end.

It was never our intention to hurt or harm you and we fervently want you to recover fully, we will respect your decision.

It was suggested by a colleague of mine to take a course of ptsd and the underlying message was almost all the practitioners had huge workloads and many were close to burnout in relation to the supply and demand for therapy and solutions. I fear that there are cases; because of the huge caseload of therapists and the never-ending line of more patients suffering with mood disturbances, it is an unconscious decision to diagnose those with a mental illness to keep up with treating and helping as many as possible.

As mentioned before, I accept there are real cases of people who suffer from mental illness, but think there has been a misuse and abuse of the industry by persons; who take the easier softer option; of diagnosing such people as mentally ill, when the correct action would be too time consuming.

It is these people who for them, it would be better to be Tarred & Feathered; than face The Wrath of God; that would be Visited on Their Whole Tribe.

[beeblackburn]

Who do you think is the tall and terrible woman beside Euron in Aeron's vision? I've heard lots of theories, from the TV show hinting at Cersei, I read an interesting blog about The Mad Maid of Hightower, and a film theorist video about Dany going mad. Who do you think it is and how do you think it will affect the rest of the series.

Thanks for the question, @chocolatewitchharmony​!

First, the show isn’t the books.

Second, there’s a caveat in that, as amazing and mind-blowing as The Forsaken was, it’s not the final copy yet and liable to changes and revision. Meaning, that tall and terrible woman could possible be written out of the story. I definitely think it won’t because it’s a very evocative image, but the possibility could happen.

So, with all that said, I’ll say my piece on the chances of those women you mentioned as the “tall and terrible women.”

Dany isn’t going mad. And while one could take symbolic representation of Dany with the woman being “long and tall and terrible” and Dany’s taste in men lean towards people like Daario and Euron, both men having evocative parallels and similarities, (though I don’t blame her when her golden standard was Drogo…), even Dany recognized Daario was awful:

Dany was appalled. He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. “Do you take me for the Butcher King?”

“Better the butcher than the meat. All kings are butchers. Are queens so different?”

And Euron is far worse in terms of seeing humanity as chattel and butcher’s meat. He openly practices Valyrian-style slavery and atrocities (all men are meat, anyone?) As much as Dany is fully capable of exercising cruelty onto slavers and innocents (the wine-seller and his daughters), she’s committed herself to ending the slavery institution that her ancestors were masters to.

Dany and Euron are foils, two sides of the Valyrian coin, two ways of utilizing “fire and blood.” While Euron unleashes unrepentant suffering to fuel his magical ambitions (the true heir to Old Valyria), Dany has unleashed the dragon’s fire to consume the slavers and dehumanizing institution that has reduced men to meat in service to the slaves, her people and children.

I just don’t see Dany go that extra step of stamping her foot into darker depths and accepting Euron as a paramour or partner… willingly. I definitely acknowledge magical detainment as a possibility for Dany (though I hope not) with all the deep-seated sorcerer atmosphere emanating from Euron and I certainly theorize Dany’s certainly going to be tempted by him after she blows up King’s Landing… but no, she’s going to burn him as a final test before facing off the eldritch slavers, the greatest dehumanizing masters of them all: the Others.

Cersei, I don’t see either. Besides the fact that Cersei has her own rich story of a queen laboring under patriarchy, a woman dealing with misogyny, both others’ and her own internalized kind, a victim of fate wanting to break destiny’s knees and a daughter who’s going to destroy herself trying to be her father’s heir, as @poorquentyn​ pointed out the other day, she’s not going to cut it for Euron. He’s got his eyes on this prize:

“So are the contents of my chamber pot. None is fit to sit the Seastone Chair, much less the Iron Throne. No, to make an heir that’s worthy of him, I need a different woman. When the kraken weds the dragon, brother, let all the world beware.”

“What dragon?” said Victarion, frowning.

“The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world. Her hair is silver-gold, and her eyes are amethysts … but you need not take my word for it, brother. Go to Slaver’s Bay, behold her beauty, and bring her back to me.”

Now, Euron emphasizes Dany’s beauty as a factor and it’s possible for someone to think that might lead him to Cersei… but I think Euron was emphasizing how Dany appears the very ethnicity that once dominated the world and sees marrying her as another step closer to realizing his role as Old Valyria’s heir. Plus, Euron’s political platform was this:

“I know as much of war as you do, Crow’s Eye,” Asha said. “Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros with dragons.”

“And so shall we,” Euron Greyjoy promised. “That horn you heard I found amongst the smoking ruins that were Valyria, where no man has dared to walk but me. You heard its call, and felt its power. It is a dragon horn, bound with bands of red gold and Valyrian steel graven with enchantments. The dragonlords of old sounded such horns, before the Doom devoured them. With this horn, ironmen, I can bind dragons to my will.”

Asha laughed aloud. “A horn to bind goats to your will would be of more use, Crow’s Eye. There are no more dragons.”

“Again, girl, you are wrong. There are three, and I know where to find them. Surely that is worth a driftwood crown.”

And his talk with Victarion reveals this to be a personal ambition as well:

Euron seated himself and gave his cloak a twitch, so it covered his private parts. “I had forgotten what a small and noisy folk they are, my ironborn. I would bring them dragons, and they shout out for grapes.”

“Grapes are real. A man can gorge himself on grapes. Their juice is sweet, and they make wine. What do dragons make?”

“Woe.”

Cersei can’t give Euron dragons. And he doesn’t want to rule Westeros so her being queen doesn’t matter. Euron’s grasping eye is looking to devour something beyond the physical. On a metaphysical level, he wants to be Old Valyria’s heir, consuming the world and bringing woe to countless people. A dragon will help elevate him from ironborn king to draconic slaver.

Malora Hightower … I don’t see it. I mean, The Winds of Winter might give more grounds to this theory, but it seems the evidence leans more towards her trying to save humanity as a whole in the long-term while neglecting it in the short-term with her father:

“To be sure. Lord Leyton’s locked atop his tower with the Mad Maid, consulting books of spells. Might be he’ll raise an army from the deeps. Or not. Baelor’s building galleys, Gunthor has charge of the harbor, Garth is training new recruits, and Humfrey’s gone to Lys to hire sellsails. If he can winkle a proper fleet out of his whore of a sister, we can start paying back the ironmen with some of their own coin. Till then, the best we can do is guard the sound and wait for the bitch queen in King’s Landing to let Lord Paxter off his leash.”

I personally think Malora and Leyton are tragic figures, people trying to handle and tap into the magical and metaphysical, all in an effort to save humanity from the Long Night… but ultimately end off neglecting humanity from its immediate time of need and paying the price for it in the end, laying the metaphysical minefields that’ll ignite upon Euron’s descent into Oldtown.

So, what I do think personally? Well, my first gut instinct was that it was either Dany or Melisandre, given the possible textual evidence than the others:

Slender she was, graceful, taller than most knights, with full breasts and narrow waist and a heart-shaped face. Men’s eyes that once found her did not quickly look away, not even a maester’s eyes. Many called her beautiful. She was not beautiful. She was red, and terrible, and red.

Melisandre cried, “We thank you for Stannis, by your grace our king. We thank you for the pure white fire of his goodness, for the red sword of justice in his hand, for the love he bears his leal people. Guide him and defend him, R'hllor, and grant him strength to smite his foes.”

She was stronger at the Wall, stronger even than in Asshai. Her every word and gesture was more potent, and she could do things that she had never done before. Such shadows as I bring forth here will be terrible, and no creature of the dark will stand before them. With such sorceries at her command, she should soon have no more need of the feeble tricks of alchemists and pyromancers.

That being said, I shot this down. Melisandre is a religious zealot and ex-slave with a genuine desire to save the world who’ll commit to unsavory means to net-positive ends. She doesn’t take pleasure or emotional catharsis in suffering. She causes suffering through her burnings, and that’s worth condemning, but it’s for her notion of the “greater good”, not out of joy.

The very notion that Melisandre would work with Euron, who is essentially an Other in human skin… it just doesn’t work. I can cite logistical problems, but, from a character-driven level, any working relationship between them doesn’t add up. Maybe a female follower of R’hllor, given the white fire that Melisandre ties with R’hllor, but otherwise, this just doesn’t work for me.

So, after thought, this is what I’ve decided: a female representation of the Others that Euron’s going to colliding together with.  

Shadow?

Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone.

“We have white shadows in the woods and unquiet dead stalking our halls, and a boy sits the Iron Throne,” he said in disgust.

“The cold gods,” she said. “The ones in the night. The white shadows.”

Long and tall?

Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees.

Sword-slim it was, and milky white.

Terrible and laughing at human suffering?

The bear was dead, pale and rotting, its fur and skin all sloughed off and half its right arm burned to bone, yet still it came on. Only its eyes lived. Bright blue, just as Jon said.

A horse’s head emerged from the darkness. Sam felt a moment’s relief, until he saw the horse. Hoarfrost covered it like a sheen of frozen sweat, and a nest of stiff black entrails dragged from its open belly.

The watchers moved forward together, as if some signal had been given. Swords rose and fell, all in a deathly silence. It was cold butchery. The pale blades sliced through ringmail as if it were silk. Will closed his eyes. Far beneath him, he heard their voices and laughter sharp as icicles.

A woman?

The gathering gloom put Bran in mind of another of Old Nan’s stories, the tale of Night’s King. He had been the thirteenth man to lead the Night’s Watch, she said; a warrior who knew no fear. “And that was the fault in him,” she would add, “for all men must know fear.” A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well.

He brought her back to the Nightfort and proclaimed her a queen and himself her king, and with strange sorceries he bound his Sworn Brothers to his will. For thirteen years they had ruled, Night’s King and his corpse queen, till finally the Stark of Winterfell and Joramun of the wildlings had joined to free the Watch from bondage. After his fall, when it was found he had been sacrificing to the Others, all records of Night’s King had been destroyed, his very name forbidden.

As for the pale, white fire, a fair counterpoint. I assume a Others-friendly glass candle because how would Euron otherwise make his deal with the Others, given the distance between them? And there’s some precedent, textually:

Alleras nodded at the glass candle.

Sam stared at the strange pale flame for a moment, then blinked and looked away. Outside the window it was growing dark.

Precedent, motive, characterization, textual support, a representation of all the sorceries Euron “demon in human skin” Greyjoy wants to conquer and take over is the perfect mate. Who better to help herald in the apocalypse for a man who wants to consume all the metaphysics and reign as king over the dragonfires and, with this mate’s help, the frozen lands?

Hope this helps!

#euron greyjoy #daenerys targaryen #daario naharis #old valyria #cersei lannister #malora hightower #leyton hightower #melisandre #night's king #the others