#o;; beyond the gods (ooc) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comatosebunny09 · 6 months

Text

fever dream | astarion a.

genre(s): fluff, angst

warning(s): language, self-indulgent, sick!reader, astarion’s a little ooc

now playing: the night does not belong to god - sleep token

notes: very self-indulgent because i’m sick and needed some comfort and @nanaoise08squad inspired me to finish this. thank you for reading, lovelies! ❤️❤️❤️

Somehow, the sun shines brighter today. Glaringly so.

You hold a hand to your temple to shield your eyes from its brilliance. Your armor feels heavier, too. Like boulders stacked on your shoulders and chest, making it harder to breathe. You force out a groan that’s gritty like ash. Trudge down the steps leading outside the inn to join your companions, your limbs weighted and achy.

“I hate to point out the obvious, darling.” Astarion grimaces with his hands curled to his chest in revulsion. He ducks away from the sight of you. Winces as you take a labored step forward, your balance thrown to the hells.

“But you look like utter shit.”

You scoff, phlegm making itself known in your throat.

What a way to be greeted by the love of your life.

“You sure are a flatterer, aren’t you, Astarion?”

You’re sure to drag out the vowels of his name—or perhaps your words are a little slurred due to whatever ailment took hold of you today. Nevertheless, you jab a finger between his ribs, your face twisting into something haughty.

You wonder if it was worth the exertion as your vision and body sway along with the trees, and your head pounds something menacing whilst a wave of vertigo hurtles into you.

“Shit!”

Astarion catches you when you pitch forward, your legs unable to grasp the rhythm of walking. And there are suddenly two of him. Two little ‘starions calling your name, fretting over you, shaking you to keep you amongst the conscious.

You feel like lead. Feel yourself sinking below the surface, unable to return.

Your lids shutter as if weighed down by sandbags. The muddled shouts of your friends trickle in, each tinged with varying degrees of concern. You register hands all over you, patting and pulling. Register a strained voice yelling stop, and the frantic touching ceases.

Before you fully succumb to the darkness, there is the sensation of you being lifted up, followed by the earthy scent of bergamot flooding your senses, and it furls around your heart.

Then, there is nothing.

Something savory draws you from the inkiness of your sleep. It curls around your mind, luring you into consciousness.

You caution a sound, your throat rubbed raw from disuse. You slowly open your eyes, and the bleariness gradually morphs into discernible shapes and colors. Somehow, this place feels familiar.

You’re back in your rented room. Nestled in the plushness of a mattress with too many pillows and sheets soft as linen. You will yourself onto your elbows, wincing at the stiffness of your neck. The pain is manageable. Better than it was before, you note, leisurely ingesting your surroundings.

A lone candle flickers on the nightstand, swathing the room in its bronze glow. Moonlight seeps through the curtains lining the window across. The faint symphony of crickets accompanies the murmur of the inn’s other patrons and the groans of the floorboards beyond your doorway.

Bloody hell.

How long have you been out?

On cue, the doorknob rattles, and a slither of light leaks in. The swell of noise outside commands your attention. You stiffen, fingers instinctively twitching for a weapon. But your bones settle as a thatch of white creeps into your vision from the threshold.

“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” Astarion breathes. He toes the door shut, a steaming bowl of deliciousness cupped in his palms. Takes a few steps forward, rounded eyes flashing amber beneath the candlelight.

You recognize that aroma. The hearty scent which roused you from your sleep. Your stomach gnarls with life as Astarion nears the bed, donning that smug little mask.

“Hungry, are we?”

You nod enthusiastically, garnering a chuckle from the room’s other occupant. Suddenly self-conscious of how eager you are whilst he hands you the bowl, his fingers slinking away from yours as if he’s touched simmering coals.

“Courtesy of Gale,” Astarion supplies. “I can’t guarantee how good it tastes considering—well, you know. Undead and all that.”

His smile is tight-lipped. Guarded as he settles himself on a stool beside you, his spine straight and his ankles crossed. He helps you sit up against the headboard despite the unease permeating the air. Quickly retracts his hands to press them against the wood of his seat between his thighs, surveying your room.

You take some time to study him. Note that his eyebags seem more prominent than usual. Darker. Hair’s a little tussled, skin a bit paler. His shirt sits rumpled around his shoulders, the fastenings of it done all wrong. Worst of all, he has not looked at you for longer than a few beats. Like you’re made of glass and will shatter if he stares for too long.

A pang shoots through you, searing hot like lightning.

He was worried.

Worst of all, he was worried about you.

You’re no longer hungry, your stomach twisting as you gaze down at the stew bleeding warmth into your palms. You set it on the nightstand with a decisive clunk, quietly receding into yourself. Silently relenting to the smog of self-loathing draping itself across your shoulders.

“You scared me half to death, you know,” says Astarion, parting the tangled sea of your thoughts. As if he senses you berating yourself. It’s a soft drawl. An attempt at scolding you, but there’s weariness nestled in the undercurrents of it. “That’s saying a lot, considering I’ve already one foot in the grave.”

You peer up at him like a meager child. He watches you from his peripheral with crossed arms, his nose turned up, feigning disappointment. You see through the cracks of his façade, and your lips twitch with the threat of a smile.

He can be incredibly adorable when trying to shroud his feelings.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, your tone barely above a whisper.

Astarion releases a resigned sigh. And the weight of the world seems to pour from his shoulders as he angles himself towards you, reaching for one of your hands.

His expression softens, and he squeezes, his palm frigid yet reassuring. For the first time since he entered, he truly looks at you. Gaze swims through your features as if to commit every detail, every imperfection, to memory. As if he could lose you at any second.

“No need to apologize, my love. I was just…concerned, is all. I suppose we all were when you went down.”

The recollection makes your face blossom with heat. Poor little darling, taken out by a nasty cold. Causing hysteria among your friends, deterring your journey.

Astarion thumbs your cheek, smiling something genuine at the pout on your lips.

Your tongue burns with the ache of a question, and you shrink, not wholly prepared for the answer.

“How long was I out for?”

“Nearly two days.”

You blanch, evoking another guttural laugh from Astarion.

“Shadowheart did her best to heal you. There was only so much her magic could mend. So, we’ve been playing the waiting game while you caught up on your beauty sleep. Not like you need much more of it.”

You snort at Astarion’s cheekiness.

Leave it to your little star to find every opportunity to flatter you.

He examines your joined hands thoughtfully, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“It’s been centuries since I’ve dealt with mortal illnesses. Honestly, I couldn’t begin to fathom how to comfort you. Other than gracing you with my presence, of course.”

It’s refreshing to see his humor is still intact despite his beloved pulling a Snow White.

For a while, you sit like this. Basking in the moment’s serenity, holding hands. Grinning and laughing like two enamored fools when your gazes interlock. You can tell that Astarion’s lightyears away, however. At war with himself, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, reprimanding himself for not being your proverbial knight in shining armor.

Absently, you scoot over. Relinquish your love’s hand—much to his chagrin—to pat the space beside you. You affix him with a look that’s all too serious as you say, “For starters, you could try holding me.”

Astarion stares at you with rounded eyes. Mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish, forming around words that he can’t quite conjure.

“Oh. A-Alright,” he finally musters. Dumbfounded, Astarion stands, maneuvering to sit beside you on the bed. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Never does, unused to being so vulgar, so unabashed with his feelings.

Though, for you, you know he would rearrange the stars in the sky if he could.

So you help him, tugging him closer and falling into the circle of his arms. You nestle against his chest with a pleased hum vibrating your throat. Tangle your legs together, ignoring the surprised sound that leaves him.

He’s a lovely contrast to your still-enflamed skin. Fits like a puzzle piece against you, soft and lithe. He relaxes gradually, tucking you ever closer against him as if you’ll disappear in a plume of smoke if he lets go. He pets through your hair before anchoring his chin to the crown of your head, surrendering a satisfied sigh.

“Well, I supposed this isn’t so bad, now is it?” Astarion husks, stroking soothing circles into the notches of your spine.

You nod offhandedly, your lids lowering, and your body feeling at ease.

Suddenly, your ailment seems more bearable as you sink below the depths of slumber, an unguarded smile cresting over your lips.

The shadows of your conjoined bodies dance along the walls as the candlelight dwindles, and you both surrender to the tranquility of the night.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fluff #tw: language #tw: angst #tw: self loathing #tw: sickness #sick!tav #sick!reader #astarion comfort #bg3 #bg3 astarion

2K notes · View notes

zoophagist · 2 years

Text

if i keep being subjected to g.o/t tv series posting,,, on my good, wholesome, god-fearing dash,,,, in the year of our lord two thousand and twenty-two,,, i’m going to enter my villain arc i’m dead serious

#this is not for the few book-based blogs i've been following for years. you guys are normal and fine and i like the cut of your jib.#we as a species have evolved beyond the need for g/o/t and i genuinely cannot believe anyone is watching this spin off #talk about clown behavior. like. you watch a terrible show they write once - shame on them. you watch a SECOND show they write?#shame on you and the joke will be too when it's uhh BAD.#god i don't want to be bitter and condescending about it but like... guys... guys we have to have learned our lesson we just HAVE TO have #it has gotten to the point where i've got to add terms to my blacklist .... who can afford to give this the headspace it takes to post?#what in under god is going on #||x LONG AND AFAR OFF [ ooc ]

0 notes

simpforwebtoonmen · 4 months

Text

★lookism characters with an s/o with a similar fighting style as Bayonetta

feat. Daniel Park, Eli Jang, and Euntae Lee (Vasco)

notes/warnings: reader is a woman, fighting, flirting, fluff, kind of ooc characters (for Daniel's at least), not based on specific event in lookism besides for Eli's. not proof read. (lmk if I missed anything!)

i've been playing Bayonetta lately and omg do I love it.

Daniel★

"huh?" he questioned. the only thing distracting him from his aching body and bloody fists was the woman in front of him.

She dodged a punch from her opponent by backflipping elegantly; her arms stretched out and her legs swinging one after another into the air and her back arching perfectly. she landed on her two feet and stood up straight, as if the backflip took no energy from her at all.

God, if she wasn't perfect before (which she was in daniel's eyes), she was definitely beyond amazing at this point.

The way she delivered her kicks to each opponent, the way she would maneuver her body to hit her opponent in a specific spot, and her stance when she finished all 10 men off.

"oh.my.god." Daniel slowly stood up from the ground and wobbled his way over to his girlfriend that just saved him, aka, you.

You quickly ran over to him when you caught sight of his weakened state. putting a hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek, you examined him for major injuries that might need treatment at the hospital. as you did that, Daniel only admired, thinking to himself how he got so lucky; landing on a strong and elegant woman.

"Are you okay, Daniel? you seem to be in a daze. did you hit your head?" you questioned him, going on your tip toes to get a better look at his head. In a vague motion, he shook his head, "just thinking about you," he admitted.

You got off your toes and stared at Daniel, wondering if something was really wrong with him. "what?" was all you could manage to say. "you're just so perfect..." he let out a somewhat dreamy sigh as his face dropped into what looked to be a lovesick gaze. maybe there really was something wrong with him. but nevertheless, his words still made you very flustered.

Eli ★

he and warren were trying his their hardest to protect Hostel against the old men from (tiger sum company?). Suddenly overpowered by one of the old men, Warren screams for Eli seeing him getting beat down. and even though, eli could've easily gotten back up he wasn't given the chance to when a shadow flew overhead.

Suddenly the old man flew out of Eli's sight and was instead met with a leg stretched out. the shape of the leg was all to recognizable and his eyes trailed up to the thigh, then to the hips and waist, and (not so subtly) up the curve of their chest, his gaze is finally met with yours.

You grinned as you watched him shamelessly check you out despite the situation, "like what you see, perv?" you teased. just then, he's realized what he'd done, a pink color spreading across his cheeks, "i-it's not like that-" he tried to explain but you suddenly disappeared.

you made your way to the other side of the field as you saw the old man get back up as if unscathed by your kick.

Eli was surprised to see that you could hold your own against such a powerful opponent. And not only were your kicks and punches powerful, but your jumps were impressively high and you were all too quick at times for Eli to keep up.

but suddenly, with an elbow to the chest, you flew back into a part of the playground. You groaned as you sat up, "well are you gonna help me or are you just gonna watch?" you shouted from where you were. And as the old man suddenly flew above you, intending to deliver a powerful blow, you were quick to jump up and dodge his attack.

finally, eli snapped out of his trance. "oh!" He got up from where he sat and made his way to you and the old man. The two of you stood in a powerful stance before the old man, making his 'tsk'.

"tag teaming, are we? we'll that's no fair, now is it?"

Vasco ★

"let me join."

"no."

"please."

"no."

"please! with ice cream and whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles, and cherry on top!"

"hmm, sounds kinda good ngl....but no."

you slumped on your spot on the floor. You've been dating Vasco for about 6 months now and have only seen him fight just recently. You couldn't help but think just how much more amazing it made him look on your eyes, to fight for such a heroic and selfless cause. you wanted to be a part of that too, but for some reason, he won't let you.

"c'mon dude...at least tell me why I can't join you guys..." you looked back up at Vasco, hoping he'd give you an explanation. he sighs, "because it's dangerous work we do and I don't want you to get hurt," he explained, his gaze softening. He doesn't think he could handle seeing you get hurt, no less because of him.

But that's when you realized that he didn't know.

You stood up quite abruptly and pointed a declaring finger at him. "I wanna duel!" you shouted, squinting your eyes at him to make yourself look more serious, but to him, you just looked cute. that and he was surprised to hear such a declaration from you.

"w-what?"

"you and me. outside. duel."

and here you both were. outside in an open and seemingly empty field.

he felt extremely unsure if he should really do this. He decided that he was just going to pin you down and make you give up. talk about underestimating your opponent, am i right?

slowly, you inched closer to your opponent, make it seem like you were going to attack first. Vasco, got the idea that you were going to attack at any moment and took it upon himself to lounge for you first, to prevent any sort of fight happening between the two of you.

But suddenly, instead of being met with your body, he was met with his face in the dirt. did you just dodge his attack, by backflipping no less? he lifted his head from the dirt and brought his hands back to lift himself from the ground, but a force on his back pushed him back down onto the dirt. He turned his head to look back at who it was, and surprise surprise, it was you with your foot on his back.

"how did-"

"how did i end up back here when I was just in front of you?" you finished his question for him. you grinned before taking your foot off his back, "keep underestimating me and I might just win this fight," you teased.

he lifted himself from the ground, turning to you with a frown on his face. he was confused to say the least. how did you move so fast? and how strong is your leg to keep him pinned down despite his efforts of getting up? he didn't know the answers to those questions, but he knew now to take you seriously.

"alright fine, let's do this," he lifted his fists up along with his knee, his signature stance. for a moment, his position softened, "don't be afraid to tap out, okay? I don't want to hurt you..."

for a moment, you laughed, "haha, don't worry, I will. same goes for you."

and just like that, you two began your fight.

"are you done yet?" you yawned as you sat on his back, your feet planted on his calves to keep him from moving. He tried to swing his arms up behind him but he simply couldn't reach you. finally, he sighed, "fine...you win..."

#lookism x reader #lookism #daniel park #euntae lee #lookism daniel x reader #lookism vasco x reader #lookism vasco #lookism eli #eli jang x reader#eli jang x reader #eli jang

173 notes · View notes

serendipityandbenevolence · 1 year

Text

Tartaglia x Reader (gn) - SAGAU

Another day, another post! im praying that this one is easier to write than yesterdays because i spent nearly 2 hrs trying to write my 1k words. thankfully me and childe are besties (real, not clickbait) and he's also my main so i don't have to read about his personality for a hour on the genshin impact wiki.

Contains - childe being sickeningly in love with you and kinda soft (my boy is whipped) the other harbingers also lowkey hate him, also the yandere behavior makes him ooc so im sorry if hes acting a lil bit goofy, also this fic is a bit more funny and lighthearted then the other two, so let me know if you like this

The previous fic if you want context is here

And the Dottore version is here

So without further ado, I introduce you to...

"Tartaglia?"

The voices outside halt for just a second, before you hear scuffling and harsh but hushed whispers from a number of different voices. Maybe he wasn't there. After all, as the least senior of all the Harbingers, maybe he was not invited to whatever conversation they were having right beyond your door. You strained to listen, but although their voices seemed to be slowly getting louder and more irate, you could only catch tiny snippets of what they were saying.

"-not going-"

"If you-"

"SO HELP ME TARTAGLIA, IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP TOWARDS THAT DOOR, I WILL PERSONALLY THROW YOU OUT-"

You flinched slightly at the sudden exclamation, which was abruptly cut off with some loud crashes and violent curses. As the noises didn't cease, you found yourself shoving off your layers of blankets and shakily getting to your feet. You were distantly aware that you probably shouldn't be moving around this much, considering how weak your body felt and the dull ache in the patched wound on your side, but you chose to ignore it in favor of investigating.

When you reached the door and nudged it open slightly, you were greeted with, not a hallway like you had presumed, but a fancy lounge area, the sort for receiving guests if you were a rich person and couldn't be bothered leaving your quarters. But more interesting than the décor was the two Harbingers fighting rather aggressively in the middle of the room and the other nine Harbingers watching on with various shades of amusement and disgust. They seemed totally oblivious to your presence, eyes trained on Arlecchino as she threw a chair at Tartaglia, before tackling him to the ground. You stood hesitantly in the doorway, not stupid enough to try and intervene, but also genuinely concerned for the safety of both of the Harbingers.

"Oh, Your Grace! What are you doing out of bed?"

You turned to the large group of Harbingers to find Sandrone staring at you with a rather worried expression. Her words caused everyone to stop and turn to you, even Arlecchino who appeared to be currently attempting to strangle Tartaglia. After a brief pause, Capitano turned back to two on the floor.

"See Tartaglia? Your childish actions have disturbed the Divine One. You are hardly fit for your title as Harbinger, causing such distress for our most beloved god."

"I'M DISTURBING THEM?! Arlecchino was the one who screamed at the top of her lungs with no care for Their Grace's slumber, why am I being blamed?"

Arlecchino paled slightly at this and stared at you with an uncharacteristically anxious expression.

"I didn't wake you up, right?"

You felt yourself sway slightly and grabbed onto the doorframe, embarrassed at how quickly your body seemed to be giving out on you.

"Oh no, not at all. I was already awake, I was just listening to you all discuss what's going on with the other nations. That's why I called for Tartaglia, I wanted to ask him some questions about what I missed while I was sleeping."

There was a slightly awkward pause as what you just said sank in.

"Wait, you actually called for Tartaglia? He wasn't hallucinating it? Or lying so he could go in and see you?" Arlecchino asked, an incredulous look covering her face as she got up off the floor.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to start a fight or anything but..."

Your vision blurred slightly and your knees buckled slightly as another wave of pain hit you. You heard a few worried murmurs from the Harbingers, but before they could do anything, you were swept off your feet and carried back into your room.

"Sorry about making you get out of bed for that. Are you feeling okay?" Tartaglia whispered gently as he cradled you in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Yeah I'm fine. I probably just need another nap, clearly I'm not as well healed as I thought."

He nodded at that, laying you down silently on your bed before grabbing at your blankets and laying them back over you.

"Sorry for causing you so much trouble, Ajax."

"Ajax?"

You hesitated, suddenly unsure of how he would react to his actual name. But he only smiled, with what seemed to be a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"I had no idea that you knew my real name! I mean, of course you do, but I just didn't think you would take much notice and-"

He paused, seemingly noticing your tired eyes.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I'll ramble another time. Please, if you so wish, call me Ajax."

"Perhaps not in front of the other Harbingers though. I wouldn't want to drag you into another spat." You whispered sleepily.

"Don't worry about that!" He grinned widely at you. "I can take them on, call me what you want."

He got up from beside you, with one last sentence before he left.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

Glad to report that this one was a lot easier to write and I was actually giggling a little while picturing Arlecchino trying to beat Tartaglia. I might write Pierro's ending today, just because I have some time and I'm in a good writing mood. The order of the endings so far are Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone and Scaramouche. If you guys want to comment which of the women you want to go after Scaramouche, I'll add them to the list! (also no, I'm not writing Pulcinella)

#genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers

529 notes · View notes

chuuyasheaven · 9 months

Note

Day 8 with Tecchou and afab reader maybe? 😳

“—As you recall, you know I love to show off..” — Flashing lights by Kanye West !!

Tags: Tetchou Suehiro / afab! Reader, original! au, dom!Tetchou, sub!Reader, foreplay (eatin’ out), passionate but rough sex, overstim, praising kink, pet names, might contain grammar errors, ooc!, lazy, etc.

Notes: I’ve never written for Tetchou before, but GOOD LORD IS HE FINE. MIGHT BE A LITTLE PROJECTED ON ME BUT OTHERWISE ENJOY!!

Man, you have no idea how lucky you are..

I mean, you’re having a relationship with THE Tetchou Suehiro, one of the strongest hunting dogs. But from his view, he was the lucky one. You were way too perfect for him. And of course, he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you.

It was pretty easy actually, as a hunting dog you probably make an hell amount of money, and Tetchou’s not afraid to spoil you with it. Even without it, he will kiss you, hug you and show lots of affection towards you! As if he was showing you off to everyone.

Not to mention, there’s other ways he can make you ‘feel good’..

“Fuck, right t-there, Tetchou!..”, you choked as you felt his tongue drag over your folds, getting to taste your ‘desperation’.

“Here?”, Tetchou asked you after he licked that spot again, you just nodded. He smirked and went down on you again, and you kept on playing his favorite tune, your moans and whimpers.

Tetchou was leaving time for you and your pleasure, wanting you to know that he worships any body part of yours. As his tongue was doing wonders to your cunt, you could manifest your orgasm coming through soon. And you were right, it came crushing to you, it was quite intense.

After coming back to your senses, Tetchou got up from his knees, licking your slick and cum off his lips and chin.

While doing this he wore a small smile on his face while holding eye contact with you, this just turned you on even more than it should.

“—Oh? Seems like you got wet again, princess. We can’t leave you like that, now can we?”, Tetchou noticed as he walked towards you while removing his belt and freeing his hard cock.

Finally, as you felt his dick at your pussy, you nearly felt like cumming again. But when he pushed it inside you, the pleasure fell beyond you, a loud moan was heard from you while Tetchou let out a pleasured grunt.

When he started to thrust inside you, you went into heaven, his cock filled you up so nice!

It hit all the right spots, and your cunt hugged him so nicely! He was starting to get impatient anyway, so he got a little rougher than usual.

“Such a good girl f’me, aren’t you, baby? F-fuck I needed you so fuckin’ bad, o-oh god—”, Tetchou cursed under his breath, getting even more focused on both of your releases.

He started to get a little more passionate with you, giving you kisses and whispered sweet nothing to you. “Are you close, my love?,”, he asked you.

“S-shit, ‘Hiro! Y-yes, fuck me faster!!”, you nearly shouted, being quite at peace with this response, he picked up your request.

First he placed one leg of yours next to his waist, holding it with a death grip, pounding into you faster to chase both of your orgasms.

Soon you got louder and your knot snapped, your pussy hugged his cock even tighter, which brought Tetchou’s own knot to snap.

Squeezing your eyes shut, Tetchou watched some of his cum leak out. “S-shouldn’t you pull out, ‘Hiro?”, you asked him.

“—Why should I? It’d be an waste to leave all of my cum leak out of you, wouldn’t it, darling?”

GOOD LORDY.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I might need to pause this event because I’m traveling with my family! So I’ll be able to post like 2-3 fics before I go! Sorry that it came so sudden, but I promise I’ll be very productive after!! Until then, bye pookies!!

#tetchou smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bsd tetchou #tetchou suehiro #tetchou x reader

245 notes · View notes

samyanggs · 1 year

Note

Heyyyyy! Can you please write hcs about Thor, Loki and Poseidon with a human s/o who is wise beyond her years and is perfectly fine with her own mortality and human nature, she is easy-going and gets along with literally anyone, doesn't expect anything in return from her boyfriend despite them being powerful deities and doesn't ask them for stuff, being completely fine with just spending time with them. Bonus points if you include something along the lines of "Don't you want to become a deity?" "Why would I? I like being me and that includes all my faults and virtues". Thanks!!! Sending you lots of love and hugs!!!

Hihii! Yea I can do those and thanks for the love and hugs! I’m currently having nausea, migraine, slight dizziness and a stomachache so I’m sorry if this is bad or isn’t what you’re looking for I’ve also never wrote Poseidon before so sorry for ooc

Warnings: none

Don’t be afraid to reach out to me for any reason, you can ask me questions about me and request smth for me to write or you can js ask me a question you’d like for me to answer!

“My mind is well beyond my years..”

Thor

You were.. odd.. you were a human yet wise and smart beyond your mortal years. That must’ve been why Thor had been attracted to you, the moment you showed your intelligence. A few weeks into your relationship he started noticing how you were definitely much more smarter than the average mortal of your age. People also flocked to you because you got along with everyone with no problems. He questioned you, curious. You were both relaxing, eating dinner together like he has asked you too and you complied. It was silent, just how you both liked it- that was until he spoke.

“Don’t you want to become a deity?” He asked, out of the blue. He bit into his food and chewed it, looking at you expectantly for your answer.

You chuckled before shaking your head. “Why would I? I like being me and that includes all my faults and virtues. I can’t control what I am so there’s no point in wishing that I could be one when I’m not one.” You replied simply, going back to eating your food silently. He blinked, nodding slowly.

He looked back down to his food and continued eating, smiling softly. You really were wise beyond your mortal years.

Loki

He, as a god, always thought that the ones who could be wiser than any other human would be the gods. Oh, how he was proven wrong the moment you came and showed your fantastic and amazing intelligence. You were wiser than anybody that was the same human age as you. And he dare say that you were wiser than some of the gods. He was immediately attracted to you the moment you showed your intelligence. Many people, and he means many, could get along with you easily. You were smart and you could interact with people even better. You were definitely if not, his type. But he always found himself wondering why you never wished to become a deity. So he decided to ask you while you both were in his room. You were reading a book while he was playing a game.

“Don’t you wanna be a deity?” He asked eyes fixated on the screen, moving quickly between you and the screen.

You looked up from your book and looked at him “Why would I? I like being me and that includes all my faults and virtues.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I can’t control what I am so there’s no point in wishing that I could be a deity when I’m not one.” You said going back to reading your book.

Loki paused his game and turned to look at you. He blinked slowly before going back to his game, unpausing it. He chuckled softly. You really were wiser than your mortal years and more selfless than many gods and humans.

Poseidon

If you told Poseidon that he was going to court with a human in the future, he would’ve ignored you with a hint of distaste on his faces . He supposes that he couldn’t do that now, after courting a human.. who was much wiser than humans and (some) gods alike— the reason why he thought that you were worthy enough for him to look at you. While he was reserved, quiet and disliked other people, you were the opposite. You were extroverted, polite and liked people. You got along with everyone while he didn’t. he supposed that, that’s what they mean by opposites attract. He does question why you don’t want to become a deity despite your own strengths and personality. So he decided to question you one day while you both were together.

“Why don’t you want to become a deity?” He asked, looking at you. He rested his cheek on his fist waiting for your answer with that same cold expression on his face.

You looked at him, unfazed by his coldness. “Why would I? I like being me and that includes all my faults and virtues. I also am not able control who and what I am, therefore there is no reason for me to wish to become a deity when I’m not one.” You answered calmly.

He blinked at you slowly and nodded, his cold expression turning into one of confusion and acceptance. He smirked to himself quietly. He really did choose a wise partner to court.

853 notes · View notes

joelsmochi · 1 year

Text

Dirty Work - Javier Peña

Part 2 to Desperation

i really just needed an excuse to use this gif red is def his color

Warnings: possible ooc Javi, smut [minors dni beyond this point], first person POV [Jackie with the big boobiez], also ofc Jackie (she's poc ! i more than likely won't specify her ethnicity so feel free to read as a self-insert), lazy proofreading

Smut warnings: not nearly as filthy as the last one, but still a lil dirty, public (?) sex [it’s in an office y’all], risk of getting caught, strip tease (? eh), SQUIRTING HEHE (pedro’s javi has a squirt kink from last time), overstimulation, slight pain+crying from overstimulation (consensual i promise!), basically brief masochism, worried!Javi, gentle!Javi, tummy bulge, this is basically like…mainstream porn, please proceed with caution, FLUFF at the end they like each other :o

wc: 3.5k (much shorter :( lo siento)

I walk through the halls of the quiet building, the smell of cigarettes and various colognes filling my nostrils. I haven’t seen Javier in a few weeks but we’ve spent nearly every late night on the phone as if we were two lovesick teenagers still living with our parents. Javi wasn’t just some guy I fuck and never call again, he was intriguing and mysterious, but also a little easy to read. He’s funnier than one might imagine—corny, but funny.

I told him about the Ammazza restaurant a couple of nights ago and he had been dying to try some of their food so I decided to be nice enough to surprise him with dinner.

A few people tried to stop me from walking through but I just kept on walking until I saw a room with an open door. I figured it must be where his desk is considering how often he complained about never having enough privacy so I poked my head inside the door and spotted Murphy’s profile, quickly seeing Javi’s face right across from the blonde. I strutted in quickly, making their heads turn at the sound of my platform heels hitting the floor.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah—“ Murphy protested.

I just waved him off without even bothering to look at him. “Shut up, Murphy,” I said before leaning over to pop a kiss onto Javi’s lips and sitting on the edge of his desk. “I brought you some much-needed Ammazza since it sounded like you’d be here late.”

Javi seemed a bit shocked at my appearance but sends me a warm smile nonetheless. “Thank you, uh… How did you know where I worked?”

Shrugging I answered, “I was across the street walking Angie’s dog and I saw you guys come in… That was last week I think?”

“Oh, so you’re stalking me now?” He joked. I noticed him checking out the straps of my chunky heels, probably noting how their fuchsia color complimented my brown skin.

I chuckled. “You just have a hard time blending in.”

“I’ll take your insult as a compliment. What’d you bring me anyways?”

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a pizza, much better than back in the states.”

“Thank you, muchas gracias, but I gotta get back to work… I’ll call you later?” He asked.

I smirked at him eyeing my nipples through my white blouse and nodded. “Sure thing, suga’.”

He curled his fingers and tilted his head up a little bit. “Dame un beso,” he hoarsely whispered. I gave him another kiss, only this time our lips linger a little longer. I noticed the smell of cigarettes so I asked for two.

I pulled my red lipstick out of my purse and put some on; I could tell the men were exchanging weird looks but I ignored it and grabbed a pen to write my hotel name and room on one of the cigarettes before I placed a kiss on the cigarette butt and placed it back into his hand. I pecked his cheek to stain it before lighting my cig and leaving without having said another word.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ✮ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

“Javi?” I called with a swift knock on the open door. “Javi, ¿donde estas?” I took a few extra steps into the room I had visited hours prior and looked around the empty desks. A hand from behind pulled me back out into the hallway and I yelped before being spun around and finding Javier’s eyes. “God, fucking—Jesus, Javier you can’t do that!”

Chuckling he wrapped his arms around my hips to give my ass a firm, slow squeeze, practically grinding his clothed dick against me. “Lo siento, mama,” he whispered against my chin.

I smiled, hovered my lips over his, and tangled my fingers through his work-messy hair. “Te perdono... Why’d you call me and ask me to come back, Javi?”

He tried to kiss me but I backed away, his grip on me causing me to hit the doorway. “Mm, you looked so sexy in those jeans earlier I couldn’t stay away from you another night.”

“You coulda just came to my room.” He picked me up and walked over to his desk after kicking the door shut, and sat me atop some papers in the open area.

“Maybe I wanted you to come to me as you did earlier,” he flirted. I raised daring eyebrows at him and played with the hair on his exposed chest. “How ‘bout we go somewhere a little more… Private?”

“Lead and I shall follow.” He helped me off of the desk and held my hand while I followed him to a nearby office with a door. He shut and locked the door behind me before sitting in the chair with his toned legs sprawled out. “Oh, is this the part where I just get on my knees and beg to suck you dry?” I stood in front of him and watched his eyes follow the lines of my jeans.

“You don’t have to beg sweetheart,” he said while shaking his head ‘no’. After bending over I slowly undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

“You wanted me to come crawling back to you, you said?”

“Maybe… That a problem?”

I hummed and ran my cool hands over his sweat-covered chest. “No.” I walked a few feet away, turning my back to him. “You sure nobody else is here? Hmm?” I asked while facing him again.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

I smirked down at him and unbuttoned my jeans, cheeks flushing at the sight of his jeans tightening around his dick. I untucked my shirt and undid a few buttons at the top, enough to reveal just above my nipples. I turned my back towards him again and bend over as I pulled my tight jeans down my legs. I heard him exhale deeply at the sight of me not having any panties on and still bent over I rubbed my middle fingers up and down my squished slit, shivering at the pressure. I balanced myself as I took my free hand to spread my left ass cheek so that he could see more of me. I jiggled my ass, giggling bashfully at how exposed I am; I stood up and stepped out of my jeans, remembering how he seemed to have liked my shoes earlier. Turning around I took off my blouse, let it slip from my fingers to the floor, and slowly walked to him before I sat on the desk and propped my legs onto his shoulder. He slid his hand up my bare skin, admiring my low eyes and smile.

“Jackie… Jackie, Jackie, Jackie…” He cooed. “Spread your legs for me?” I obeyed his request and propped my right leg on his other shoulder; he rolled his seat closer to me and kissed the goosebumps on my belly. I ruffled his hair a little bit which made him pull his head back to look at my nails. “Mm,” he cheerfully moaned, “Pink, yeah? Like your heels?” He rubbed my calf, leaned back to leave little pecks on my ankle above my heel straps, and darted his tongue out to lick up my entire leg until he got to my hot vulva. His hands gripped the sides of my thighs roughly as he chose not to wait any longer to get a proper taste. He moaned and practically melted into my skin. “You taste better than I remember,” he affirmed.

“Hmm, thank you,” I whispered, leaning back on my elbows. I watched his tongue work over my clit, trying to hollow my moans into breaths but failing miserably. My moans bounced off of the walls in the small room while his mewls fell onto my dripping lips. He buried his nose deeper into the flesh of my pussy and allowed me to close my legs around his head; I cried out his name, begging him to fuck me with his fingers. He just moaned and slowly slid one inside of me wanting to feel me convulse around him before sliding another one in, stretching me out so much with his fingers alone that it nearly burned. “God, you’re gonna make me come already,” I moaned.

“Need to make you squirt again,” he said close enough to my clit to make it vibrate. “That was so sexy…”

Giggling, I said, “Won’t I get—fuck, right there—I can’t get these papers wet?”

“Don’t mind ‘em, cariño, Cesar will live.”

Before I could even think to question him again he sucked my clit between his teeth gently and shamelessly rammed his curled fingers against my g-spot; my hands clamped around his curls and my knees tightened against his jaws. I felt a similar urge as I did that night in the car where I squirted all over his backseat. My eyes closed thinking about him ruthlessly fucking me in the puddles of my secretion was enough to… Well, make it happen again.

I let out the most obnoxiously high-pitched scream as my orgasm took over my body and mind. He pulls his head up, unable to take any more of the pressure my legs were causing; he rubbed my clit with all four of his fingers and pumped his other hand in and out of my pussy at a pace my orgasm couldn’t keep up with. He laughed and boasted once my squirt began to spill everywhere, some even splashed up onto my chin.

“Good fucking girl!” He boasts, not letting up on my body. “Good girl, baby, oh my goodness—“ He cut himself off by giving me a tender kiss. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked after I had finished squirting, but I feel some more build up inside of me so I shook my head and urged him to keep going even though my clit was beginning to swell from the overstimulation. I saw how hungry his eyes grew at the sight of me squirting all over him and wanted to keep it going. The possibility of getting caught made this that much more exhilarating. “Oh, I can feel you squeezing around my fingers… Mmm… M’gonna have to replace my fingers with my cock, how does that sound? Good? Good.”

Watching his slick lips talk me through my elongated orgasm had me speechless—no, practically fucking braindead. His cock replacing his thick fingers and his hand still doing laps along my tender bud was enough to get me going again. This time it started out little, he didn’t even notice it at first and I thought my squirting session was coming to an end, but the numbness of my urethra turned out to be an indicator of another orgasm. As I said, it started out small but ended up much more explosive and messier than the first time. I didn’t feel a single bit of it even as it was coming out, soaking my and Javi’s face in the wetness. He rubbed even harder, almost as if to take out his frustration of it getting all over him.

After a few seconds, I had to use all the strength I could muster to push his hand and body away from me, my moans turned to gasps of agony and my already wet face being soaked in tears. I laid flat on the desk and took a moment to myself, jumping at his hands touching my thigh.

“You okay?” He asked softly after pressing his chest to mine. He kissed my collarbone sweetly and asked, “Was I too rough?”

I rubbed my palm against the side of his face and breathed in a few more times. “I just need a few minutes.” It was true. I loved the way he could effortlessly yet effectively get my body to do the things he wanted even with the slightest touch. I opened my eyes and grinned up at him. “Maybe just be a little gentle now?” He kissed me sorrily a few times. “You can do what you want, just ease up, okay? I loved it,” I reassure, “I love how you can push me to my limits. I just need some softness for a bit, that’s all…” He kept giving me a guilty look, not understanding that I admired him so much more than before. I loved being controlled and used during sex and getting to the point of cumming so hard I shed tears was a new turn-on for me. I kissed his sorrow-filled face and guided our bodies so that we were upright again. “Here,” I whispered; without breaking eye contact I lined his semi-hard cock up with my entrance again, tugging at his hips to inch inside of me. “See? I’m okay, that’s okay.”

He lifted his hands up to my face to place a kiss on my forehead. “Does it hurt?” He asked, pumping only halfway into me.

I shook my head and danced my fingertips over his back. “Shh, sh sh…” I brought him down to kiss me and guided him to fill me back up. “You feel how wet you made me?”

“Yeah?” His breath was shaky and his upper body trembled in my grasp.

“I loved it, I love the pain and the way you use me,” I said in the sense of begging him to forgive himself.

“Yeah?” He whimpered. “You promise?” His slow pumps gave my body time to relax around him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted one of my nipples into my mouth, mewling out a ‘yes’. He cursed at the sight of me, droplets of my squirt still dripping from my hair onto my shoulders. I squirmed at his tip curving to my cervix, surprised (but thankful) that it didn’t hurt. I went to watch his length pump in and out of me but was surprised to find the bulge in my tummy spring up upon his entry into me. He noticed it too, I watched as his eyes widened and he quickly started to worry again.

“Come here,” I ushered before he could even get a word out. I pulled him to lay on me and gasped at how much deeper he seemed to reach. He couldn’t hold his pleasure in any longer. He adjusted us so that his knees were on the desk and my head was hanging off; on his knees above me, and forced my hips up to level with his and he sped his pace up just a little. I pleaded for him to keep going, tantalized by his whimpers and grunts. He shoved his arms under and around my waist to pull me in closer as his thrusts had gotten sloppier. “You’re s’close already,” I said when I felt his shaft throb inside of me.

He kissed me in response and paused for a moment to prop one of my legs on his shoulder; he started pounding inside of me forcing a few yelps to come out whenever he hit my pelvis with his. The desk creaked loudly and sounded as if it were on the verge of collapsing, but that didn’t stop him. After a while his pounding turned into short but fast thrusts, only allowing the base of his shaft to move in and out of me. I screamed his name and clawed at the papers on the desk letting a few books fall off whenever my flailing arms bumped into them. I cupped his face, moaning at his constant rubbing against my sweet spot.

“Oh, baby, you look so pretty like this,” he said.

Before I could give him some more dirty talk the sound of the other door slamming shut caused both Javi and me to freeze. I covered my grimacing mouth and sat up after he pulled out to tiptoe to the door. I didn’t hear what was said, but I could tell there were at least two men in the bigger room yet I am unable to move in the slightest bit. Javi turned the light off as quietly as the switch would allow and I prayed that neither of the men were looking at the opaque glass on the door. The further door being heard slamming shut again made Javi look outside, scanning the room.

“Be right back,” he whispered while pulling his jeans up and grabbing his gun.

Freaking out I tried to stop him. “No, no, Javi, please don’t leave me alone!” I whispered harshly.

Hey, I said possibly getting caught was a turn-on. Not nearly getting caught.

“It’ll be for two seconds, cariño, okay? I promise I’ll be right back.” He kissed my forehead, and left, but kept his promise. He was gone for maybe 45 seconds before he walked back in and shut the door. “We’re okay… Um… Do you want to stop?” He asked after standing in front of me.

I rolled my eyes and smirked, pulling him in for a kiss. My heart still pounding from the quick scare caused me to shiver in his arms but I ignored it and undid his pants again. “I want you to fucking hurry up and cum inside of me before we actually get fucking caught,” I urged, turning around on the desk into doggy position and not letting any more time slip away by putting his cock back inside of me.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, “it won’t take long.” He gave my ass a light but loud spank, tugging at the ends of my hair with his free hand. He pulled me back by my hair to meet him halfway on his dick, moaning out a loud, “Fuck, your ass is amazing.” He planted a kiss on my spine and dug himself into my overflowing pool of discharge and precum. It took him no longer than a few minutes of listening to my whines from how my pussy was aching for his cum for him to get close again. “You feel so fucking amazing,” he breathed onto my back, giving it a love bite.

“Javi, I can’t wait anymore…” I begged, “Please fill me up.” His hand wrapped around the front of my neck at my words, and he began to let his warm cum pour inside of me. “You’re so good to me, Daddy.” He shoved himself deeper inside of me to give me his last few drops.

“I’m good to you?” He tiredly asked.

I turned back around after he pulled out and gave him a sloppy smooch; he fixed my hair and grinned at me. “You’re so good to me.”

“Sorry about earli—“

I placed a finger on his lips and shushed him. “I’m fine, really.”

“Promise me again,” he insisted.

“Javier Peña, prometo… Que me encantó… There, does me saying it in Spanish make you believe me?” I laughed at his sleepy state.

“Actually, yeah.” He kissed me again and again and again until I felt his cum starting to drip out of me. “Here…” He grabbed my jeans and helped me into them carefully, picking me up off the piss-soaked and messy desk; he zipped and buttoned my pants for me before grabbing my shirt. “You should wear this on our date,” he nonchalantly mentioned.

I scoff up at him and start to close the blouse. “Excuse me, Agent Peña, I don’t believe you asked me properly.”

Blushing he finished dressing and quickly threw me over his shoulder earning a quick yelp from me. He walked out of the room to his desk and began gathering his things with his other hand. “Pretty girl, will you do me the honor of gracing me with your presence over a lovely dinner at Romas?” Laughing, I said yes to his proper offer which rewarded me with a slap on my ass as we began to leave the building. “Atta girl!” Once we arrived at his car he sets me on my feet and asked, “Need a ride?”

“Mhm… I walked because it’s not too far from me.” He opened the passenger door for me so I gave him one more kiss before climbing in. He turns one of his scanners off and lights a cigarette for us to split on the short drive to my hotel. “Javi?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you wanna fuck in the Cesar guy's office?”

He choked on a laugh. “He gave me some bullshit tip which ruined my progress… Why?”

“I feel bad,” I admitted. “We could have at least cleaned it up a little… I mean I did piss everywhere.”

Shrugging he said, “If you met him you’d know why it didn’t matter.”

“I’m gonna trust you on that,” I said. “How was your pizza?”

He glanced over at me and nodded happily. “Oh it was great, thank you. Are you hungry? You told me once you always eat dinner late.”

I mantled at the small detail he remembered, firmly nodding my head. “They have good food at the hotel… Why don’t you stay over tonight?”

#javier peña narcos #javier peña #javier pena smut #javier pena #javier pena imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #narcos #narcos imagine #narcos smut

191 notes · View notes

maybenotmei · 2 years

Note

Hello!

I was wondering if you could do a Headcanon situation with Octavinelle + Jamil with a s/o that is beyond independent? Like they are determined to do everything by themselves, even when they shouldn't? Feel free to ignore this if it breaks any rules though

independence!

ft. floyd leech, jade leech, azul ashengrotto

notes after the read more! apologies for not writing for jamil, i'm not very familiar with him yet💔 also sorry if they're kinda ooc!!

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

are you sure you don't need his help? he's offering a great deal of- ...is his constant bargains the reason you wish to do everything yourself? but dear, it's only a couple of p-

...but even when he's not offering anything— hell, even when others want to help, you insist you could do whatever's requested, even group projects or works that are supposed to be made with other people. how come?

he'd definitely consult it with you in private. he tries to remain professional, he does, but he's genuinely worried at how hard you're trying to push yourself to do everything by yourself. he'd like to help— absolutely free of charge! (not really- the pay is you spending more time with him...)

he does wonder why you choose to do everything on your own. is it for the same reason he did when he was still younger? do you need to prove others wrong about your capabilities? if so, he wouldn't want you to follow the path he took pre-overblot with yuu and everyone else...

but well, he still disguises his offered assistance to you with some deal that could easily be fulfilled— "grab me this book from the library," "make some juice," "stay beside me as i run you through this lesson," etc. he just wants to help— no malice whatsoever! (genuinely.)

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

dear, would you like some help? no? are you sure?

he appreciates your hardworking and independent nature, however as of recently you've been doing things that surely should not be done alone. you'd insist on doing things alone on big group projects, and in the process you'd burn yourself out. it really did worry him about it.

he keeps calm as he confronts you about the issue of you blatantly refusing help when you shouldn't just force yourself to do things that clearly you need help for? he won't push the topic on why you chose to do this, but he will hear you out if you need someone to ask for help for.

he would check up on you, offering assistance and making sure you're at least letting your group members do some work, and that you're taking care of yourself. if you you're stuck in deciding who should get this certain role, he'll help.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

hmm, are you suuuure you don't need any help?

it really depends on his mood, but he'll definitely bug you about it. why not let your group do this, or something. he wouldn't pay much mind if he was in a terrible mood, but dear god those eyebags are getting a little concerning, dontcha think shrimpy?

of course he'll try to help (give the answers if he likes the subject, stay beside you if he doesn't/ honestly he'd leave but he loves you and he wouldn't just leave something he loves) and would oftentimes stop by to help you out even though you insist on doing it yourself, since again, your awfully tired voice is not proving anything about you're "i'm fine" statement.

would give you words of encouragement, but it's not his intention for you to continue pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion. he'd just play around with you in an attempt for you to (1) stop overworking and (2) maybe learn to split up group work next time. it sorta irked you... but well, you did get somewhat of a break.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

additional notes: my first twst request !!!!!! and i just finished book 3 (well, reading the translation bc i cannot get to rank 25 quick enough in en...) though i am planning to read the translations for books 4-6 soon, so next time i promise i won't remove/decline a character bc of unfamiliarity + possible spoilers... also i'm getting a little fumbled up w schoolwork so im sorry if ur request takes a little longer...

thank you for your request! and thank you for everyone else's request! i may not write it every time, but i'm grateful for all of your requests!! thank you!! sorry if it's a little short, writing for more than two characters is kinda a lot for me looools💔

AAAALSO IM SORRY IF THIS JUST TURNED INTO OVERWORKED .... but like surely if you choose to do everything yourself you're bound to overwork yourself😢 stay hydrated everyone

#sorry its short it's 12am rn #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #twst #request

190 notes · View notes

thevalicemultiverse · 8 months

Text

OOC: Valicer In The Dark Verse Officially Open!

Here's the pertinent details, copied from my official Verse Google Doc:

~V: Valicer In The Dark (VITD)

It is a world of darkness — literally, in this case, because the sun exploded eight and a half centuries ago. In this land of eternal night, the city of Duskwall has established itself as both the premiere port of the Imperium of the Immortal Emperor, with hunters bringing in the gallons of living leviathan blood that powers the lightning barriers that keep the horrors of the deathlands around at bay...and as a vicious hub of crime and violence, fueled by the vast inequality between rich and poor. Within said city, Alice Liddell was dealing with the demons of her past as she battled hallucinations both beautiful and grim; Victor Van Dort was preparing for an arranged marriage that would elevate his nouveau riche family to the status they felt they’d deserved; and Smiler Alton was just trying to sell happiness in a syringe in the name of the cult of the Advocates and their god Mar-Mal. But then, one foggy “day,” a chance meeting between the three changed everything...

Premise: You can blame the folks over at OXBox and OXtra for this one. Specifically, you can blame their two seasons of “Oxventure Presents: Blades In The Dark.” Even MORE specifically, you can blame their “funny moments” pages for Oxventure and other RPG campaigns on TV Tropes, which happened to mention “Oxventure Presents: Blades In The Dark” and provided a link to the page for BITD for me to read through and decide “well, I want to know more about this.” And after perusing the official website, purchasing and reading the PDF of the official book, and watching both seasons of the Oxventure series — yeah, it was kind of inevitable that I’d end up making my own AU set in the city of Duskwall for my new OT3 of Victor, Alice, and Smiler. I highly recommend going to John Harper’s official BITD site for more information about how the actual RPG itself works, and the book is a real fun read, but here’s the basics to keep in mind regarding the world:

As stated in the blurb, the world is pretty much always dark — there was a cataclysm AGES ago that shattered the continents and blew up the sun, leaving only weak embers that flare up a tiny bit at dawn and dusk (I imagine the sky turns vaguely purple for a little bit, then that’s it). Hand lanterns are a popular accessory in the city!

That same cataclysm also made it so the dead no longer pass onto the afterlife, so the entire world is EXTREMELY HAUNTED, with feral ghosts trying to possess people and feast on their life essence being both a feared fate and a fact of life for the people of this world. The mysterious and anonymous Spirit Wardens collect the bodies of the dead to burn them in special fires to prevent ghosts from escaping (if they can get to them in time), and every city is surrounded by a powerful lightning barrier to hold off the hordes of ghosts, demons, and other unknowable horrors in the lands beyond (aka the mentioned “deathlands”).

The basic aesthetic of the world is dark, grungy steampunk — except instead of steam, the power source of choice is “electroplasm,” the raw essence of life most often harvested from the blood of leviathans — vast demonic creatures in the ink-black seas around Duskwall. Electroplasm, as the name suggests, is what fuels anything electric in the city, from humble street lamps to the giant lightning barriers. It also allows them to grow food without sunlight, as certain creatures (mainly sea life held in giant aquariums) and plants can be infused with the stuff to turn them into “radiant energy” generators, which glow brightly and allow the plants around them to grow faster and better. Every noble family in the city has a leviathan hunter ship, and fortunes turn on the amount of blood they bring back. John Harper himself said it best at the end of the book (Blades In The Dark, page 308): “This was once a storybook fantasy world of magic and wonders, which was destroyed and an industrial civilization was built on top of the ruins. Don’t expect scientific realism here.”

As for our main characters and their places in this world. . .

Alice was the daughter of Dean Arthur Liddell of the prestigious Doskvol Academy (located in Whitecrown, THE fancy bit of Duskwall – the Lord Governor lives there, away from the riffraff) and his wife Lorina, and the younger sister of Lizzie. The family had a happy life living in Brightstone (the next-fanciest district) – up until one Angus Bumby entered Doskvol Academy and became obsessed with Lizzie. When she rebuffed his advances, he broke into the house, had his way with her, and set the place on fire to both cover his crime and try to destroy the bodies so they couldn’t let out ghosts. Alice was the sole survivor, and after a year in hospital spent convalescing from her burns, got sent to Rutledge Asylum, here situated right next to Ironhook – Duskwall’s freaking PRISON. This Alice is probably the only one who had a WORSE time in there than in canon, as psychiatry is basically an unknown art in Duskwall, and most everyone with some sort of mental trauma is just locked up to rot or has their soul ripped out so they can become an empty Hollow zombie to be used as cheap slave labor – a fate Alice avoided solely due to being a minor. She still had her Wonderland in this world, though, and was able to use it to lever herself out of her catatonia and eventually deal with her grief enough to join the waking world…and promptly ended up sent to the Houndsditch Home in Charhollow (one of the “poor but honest” districts), where she helped the owner, Dr. Bumby, as a general dogsbody and girl-of-all-work, and received his special hypnosis-based therapy to help her forget her past. As per A:MR, after about a year there, Wonderland kicked her in the pants and helped her realize Bumby was the one that killed her family – but unlike canon, by the time of the main action of the AU, she has NOT pushed him onto any train tracks. Mostly because that would likely result in him leaving a ghost, and a spectral Bumby is the LAST thing she wants to deal with.

Victor is the son of William and Nell Van Dort, fish merchants living in Nightmarket (one of the main shopping districts, and where the “new money” tends to live). William invented canned fish when Victor was young, which the public pounced on, and his canneries easily made the Van Dorts the wealthiest family in Nightmarket. Nell wanted to eventually make the transition to Brightstone, though, and thus when Victor came of age, she started trying to arrange a marriage with one of the noble families living there. She got lucky shortly before the beginning of the AU, as the Everglots (an old noble family whose fortunes were on the downswing thanks to their leviathan hunter ship coming back dry more often than not, meaning their power, prestige, and most importantly coin was running out) consented to let Victor marry their daughter Victoria in exchange for some of that sweet sweet Van Dort fortune. As per canon, Victor and Victoria met right before the wedding rehearsal, and while they liked each other, it wasn’t enough to calm Victor’s nerves. Three hours of failed practice, one dropped ring, and one burn on Maudeline Everglot’s dress from a forgotten candle later, and Victor was banished into the streets to learn his lines. He wandered around for a while, trying to get them straight in his head, and eventually got them right down an old forgotten alley…only for the wandering ghost of a bride, Emily, to hear them and think they were meant for her. Victor was promptly dragged into the “ghost field,” the spectral echo of the city where ghosts live, and held captive by Emily (whom he did feel sorry for, but ghosts are bad news in Duskwall – they tend to lose their minds quickly due to not being able to pass on, and Emily was showing a few signs of “going feral,” as it were). The main AU is actually kicked off by him finally escaping her and finding his way back to the material plane by falling out of a wall in front of Alice and Smiler…

Smiler was the “son” of one Dr. Kellard Kelman, owner of The Sanctuary, a refuge for people who have “lost their smile” – in actuality, a horrible hellhole of a “mental hospital” where Dr. Kelman conducted experiments on the patients and threw failures in the basement. Smiler and their father clashed about a lot of things (including Kelman’s brutal methods for ensuring “social compliance” and his refusal to accept Smiler as nonbinary), and eventually Smiler just ran away at about twelve years old, rather than be a part of Kelman’s nonsense any further. They ended up in Silkshore (the “red light” district), where they encountered Carol and Matthew Alton, members of the Advocates cult, who worship Mar-Mal, the Unending Smile. Matt and Carol took in the young Smiler and told them what the cult was all about (basically, maximizing happiness however possible, from genuine kind acts to straight-up selling drugs and hypnotizing people) – Smiler thought it all sounded better than Kelman’s deal and joined up, changing their name from Marmaduke Kelman to Smiler Alton. They proved to be a very eager little cultist, developing a knack for hypnosis and – as they got older – a talent with chemical concoctions, eventually making a drug that induced a heavy state of bliss that they called Joy Serum. The invention of this drug caused Mar-Mal to mark them with its favor, turning their previously green eyes a glowing yellow (Matt and Carol were so proud!). At the start of the main AU, they spend most of their time brewing up and selling Joy Serum in Silkshore – not far from The Mangled Mermaid where Alice’s old nanny now plies her trade as a prostitute, meaning Smiler and Alice were acquainted just from her visits to see Nan there (Smiler in fact just straight-up gave Alice some money to buy lunch one day, making them about the closest thing she had to a friend there).

So! With all that in mind, the actual meat of the AU starts with Alice having fled the Houndsditch Home looking for help with her Bumby problem (either a way to bring evidence to the Inspectors, the only members of the police force known to be incorruptible, or at least not subject to bribes, or a way to kill him and make sure he didn’t come back as a ghost). Her first instinct was to go to Nanny, and along the way she encountered Smiler, packing up after finishing their sales for the day. They asked her what was wrong, and she decided she could trust them enough to let them in on what she’d found — however, her attempt to tell them what was going on was interrupted by Victor’s attempted escape from Emily, as he fell out of the ghost field in front of him. Concerned, the two ended up helping him over to the Mangled Mermaid to get some food and water in him and help him calm down after his experience. Unfortunately, Emily managed to follow them there and got rather annoyed at finding her husband in a brothel – fortunately, before she could do any damage, Smiler managed to talk her down (mainly by reminding her that humans gotta eat). Victor took the opportunity to finally explain to her what he’d been doing and that he was already engaged –

But when he mentioned Victoria’s name, Nanny commented that she’d heard that she’d already gotten married that day, to someone named “Lord Barkis.” And Emily recognized the “Barkis” name, as that was the name of the man who killed her. She and Victor agreed they had to go see Victoria for her own good, just in case she’d gotten married to a murderer, and Smiler and Alice chose to come along as back-up, and to talk to the Bluecoats (nickname for the local police) about Alice’s recent revelation over her family’s death not being an accident, but instead murder. The four took a gondola over to Brightstone (as Duskwall is part Venice as well as being part Victorian London, and is cut all over the place by canals) and crashed the Everglot-Barkis wedding reception, where Emily did indeed identify Barkis as her murderer. Barkis attempted to take Victoria hostage as the guests fled, but the group was able to free her – Victor sending her away to get help or at least find a safe place to hide – and Emily ended up destroying herself to possess Barkis and kill him with an electroplasmic bomb he had on him for some reason, thanking Victor for at least helping her get revenge on her killer and tossing a spare bomb to Alice to help with her own issues. The Bluecoats finally arrived once the deed was done, and searched the corpse while the trio tried to explain what happened –

And then one of the Bluecoats found a fancy brass mask on Barkis. Marking him as one of the Spirit Wardens, the group that goes around collecting corpses and burning them in electroplasm to make sure that the city isn’t entirely overrun by ghosts. A group of people bankrolled by the Immortal Emperor himself.

Yeah, that wasn’t good. The Bluecoats, already not really believing the gang’s story, decided they’d murdered Barkis (or, at least Alice and Smiler had – Victor got added to the list when he refused to just run off back home or bribe them) and were prepared to take them in, but Alice managed to hold off the entire patrol with a butcher’s knife just long enough for them to start running. Through various means (like Alice practically leaping over a carriage in her way double-jump style, Smiler just straight-up injecting a purser with Joy Serum, and Victor managing to accidentally lead a couple more into a very angry, very electric ghost by using his new ability to sense hidden ghosts to help his new friends avoid it), the trio was able to escape into Six Towers, a previously rich neighborhood fallen to ruin and squatters in recent years. They found shelter in an abandoned building, which proved to be the old home of one Elder Gutknecht, a former occult researcher who had managed to keep his senses after death and become a genuinely friendly ghost. The three began wondering what to do next, and Alice finally told Victor and Smiler the full story about Bumby…

And then Victor and Smiler were like, “Well, we’re already accused of murder…”

And so the group became a crew of criminals, ready to take that bastard Bumby out of the picture, before moving onto more traditional scores. I picture them as a group of Shadows, spies, thieves, and saboteurs, though there’s a bit of a Hawker element because Smiler is of course still selling Joy Serum (and is working on an inhaled drug called Giggler Gas). And even though they are criminals, they’re trying to help where they can – Victor, after figuring out how to infuse insects with electroplasm to make glowing moths and stuff to help plants grow, wants to make a community greenhouse for people; Alice still looks after the kids at Houndsditch as best she can from afar, and is only too happy to kill other people hurting children for free; and Smiler of course does want to spread happiness, even if it’s in a bit of a bizarre way sometimes. They’re my chaos crime morally gray group and I love them.

Character tags include:

~C: Victor Van Dort (a kind-hearted if not always clear-thinking new-money noodle of a young man, whose anxiety has NOT been helped by being kidnapped, however, briefly, by a ghost bride. He’s doing his best to cope, though, and train his new powers. He is the group’s Whisper (who are the ones who develop a special affinity for the ghostly and demonic in the city) and has the ability Ghost Mind, which allows him to sense every ghost in his presence no matter if they’re visible or not)

~C: Alice Liddell (a young lady with a tongue as sharp as her favorite blade, she nonetheless tries to do the right thing by the people around her, and has a soft spot for cats, rabbits, and her newfound friends. If only she could do something about those damn hallucinations… She is the group’s Cutter (the ones who are best suited to solving a problem with violence), and has the abilities Not To Be Trifled With, which allows her to push herself to perform a feat of great physical force, or to take on up to six people at once on equal footing, and The Devil’s Footsteps, which allows her to push herself to perform a feat of great athletic prowess or maneuver in such a way that she tricks her enemies into attacking each other)

~C: Smiler Alton (a cheerful nonbinary person always ready with a smile, a friendly word, and, if necessary, a needle full of Joy Serum to make people happy. They genuinely want to make the world a better, brighter place — just their ideas of how to do so are strongly informed by growing up in a happiness cult. . . They are the group’s Slide (the ones who are the smooth-talkers and master manipulators) and Leech (the ones who are the chemists and tinkerers), and have the ability Alchemist, which makes them better at crafting anything alchemical (like their Joy Serum))

This verse has no time period or subverse tags.

This verse may touch upon such subjects as rape, murder, burglary, weird mind control stuff, cult activity (though intentionally made kinda silly), and other things that you might expect to find in a horrible crime-ridden city.

This verse is open to everyone!

#~M: meanwhile in our reality (OOC))#~V: Valicer In The Dark #~C: Victor Van Dort #~C: Alice Liddell #~C: Smiler Alton #((it's official yay #I finally got around to it #feel free to ask them things!))#~M: with this hand I will lift your queue

3 notes · View notes

kingxfmischief · 8 months

Text

[So let's see. They took away reblog chains and ability to click on a post to go to that page on a blog (fixed by xkit, partially fixed by staff but only if you click some weird ass area under the url, and it only takes you to the dash version of the blog and not to the custom blog that people put a lot of work into, with more and more feeling that they're going to get rid of said customization entirely), forcing new users to use algorithm based dash instead of the proper, classic, chronological dash that is now unique to tumblr that EVERYONE PREFERS, they changed the dashboard over to a twitter copy after saying they were "testing it out" and ignoring literally every user saying it looked awful (And then went on to do some dumbass brag on their labs blog to say "but look we listened and didn't force shorten all posts!!!" as if them listening to one thing in ten years fucking means anything to us), they made it harder to access your drafts/queue/etc, since you can no longer access them from your dash and the easiest way to access them is just fucking typing them into the url bar and letting the suggestion come up.

Am I missing anything, @staff? Because you're losing our good will. You're sure as fuck losing the good will of someone that has stuck with this fucking website since 2009. Do you know how close I am to leaving this site because of this shit? Do you know how many people have already given up? Do you not realize, care, or listen when we point out how this will cause you to LOSE users, not gain them? Because we're sick and fucking tired of it. Listen to your users. For fucking once. We know you're losing money, and hell I was gonna buy some merch but then you went and pissed away any goodwill you had left. Why should I buy merch for a website that ignores every single thing it's users say? On your wip blog you've answered several questions about having to login to send anon asks (which is the only good thing you've done recently that like 99% of users agree is a good move but you somehow find the specific two questions about that to answer), but have said nothing about what I'm sure is hundreds of asks about the anger for the new dash format.

And that's not even mentioning lawsuits related to bigoted censorship that seems to only be getting worse...]

#o;; beyond the gods (ooc)#tumblr #staff #vent #tumblr changes #hellsite

11 notes · View notes

valleyfthdolls · 2 years

Note

Sonadow angst? Maybe one of them gets hurt indirectly through the others actions?

god this one sat in my inbox forEVER have you ever seen someone get overwhelmed by two (2) asks

ok so my first thought was sonic forces and like, infinite's motive was because he lost to shadow, that was kind of my inspiration here.

this prompt got a bit away from me. it's not that good, i apologize. i really made u wait like a month and then gave ya this lmao-

tw for mentions of torture, death and trauma, as well as some descriptions of injuries.

(Shadow is referred to by they/them pronouns, both with my nonbinary shadow headcanon and also in hopes of making it a bit easier to read sections where they may both only be referred to with pronouns.

It should also be noted it's currently 1:40 am and not once while writing did I feel satisfied with this. It's probably, like, grossly ooc and I apologize.)

i'll definitely come back to this concept another time but in the meantime i guess you have this but damn it i'm so upset it's so bad

"Chaos Control!"

Shadow kept their eyes on the hologram, the fake that had attempted to attack Sonic. They stared the thing down as it began to fizzle, and didn't tear their eyes away.

Not even when they heard the confusion in Sonic's voice- "Another Shadow?"

Shadow narrowed their eyes. The hologram fizzled, flickered, and finally, disappeared.

"O-kay, just one Shadow... it just disappeared?"

"That was a fake," Shadow said simply, continuing to avert their eyes.

"Another fake?" Sonic said in a half-disbelieving tone, but he dropped it quickly. "How?"

Shadow gritted their teeth. Was everything a joke to Sonic? They couldn't stand it. Only a few days ago, they'd been at the culmination of six months of torture from the doctor and his forces. He was still weak and struggling, and yet here he was, cracking jokes.

Sonic's optimism was one thing Shadow already couldn't understand. But this attitude was beyond that, it was arrogance, recklessness, and utter disregard for danger. It was going to get him killed.

Sonic was expecting an answer. Shadow still couldn't look at him. They'd seen the way he helplessly flinched when the fake had attempted to attack him.

"Infinite can create virtual reality projections," They explained. "They have mass and form, but no heart and soul."

"Virtual reality?" Sonic echoed. His voice was strained. Dry. Shadow could hear the struggle to talk. "So all those... familiar faces, that were a part of his army..."

"Replicas," Shadow finished. "The problem is, they may not be real, but they have just as formidable powers as the originals. According to Rouge, he can make infinite copies."

An ability he'd gotten because of Shadow. Because of their attack. If they'd just killed him, or left them all alone, or...

"So... fight after fight, he can just keep cranking out counterfeits?"

Shadow bristled at the casual way Sonic said it. So chill, so casual after half a year of torture, the thought alone of which made Shadow feel physically ill. Then they nodded.

"Exactly," Shadow responded coldly. "As it stands, there's no way we can win this."

"Of course we can win this!" Sonic argued. Shadow could practically hear in his voice the determined smile they knew he was giving them. "We always do! We just haven't figured that part out yet."

Shadow shook their head frustratedly. Of course Sonic would say that.

He didn't understand. He didn't understand the pain Shadow had caused with their actions. The pain Shadow had put him through.

That day, I gave up my unsightly face. And I let go of the old me- the one that was so weak.

He didn't understand that this was all Shadow's fault.

"Get out of here," Shadow hissed.

Sonic scoffed. "Nice to see you too, faker."

"I'm not making a damn joke, hedgehog. You need to get out of here."

"What the heck? Why? What are you on about now?"

Shadow curled their paws into fists and swung at the nearest wall to avoid whipping around to face Sonic. The worn bricks cracked on impact. Shadow winced, but didn't move. "You just need to go. I don't know what idiots let you come running out on another one of these death marches you seem to so adore-"

"Cut to the chase, Shadow," Sonic snapped.

"-But one of these says you are actually going to die. You came close enough already. Aren't you satisfied with that? With what you've already gone through?"

I've only become what I am because of you, yet you don't remember.

"No, I'm not!" Sonic insisted. "It's not about how much I have to go through, Shadow. It's about how hard I get to fight for my goal." He crossed his arms, Shadow saw it out of the corner of their eye. "I thought you'd know that."

"...Just get out," Shadow repeated. "I'm not here to argue with your hero complex. I need you to get out and stay out of this damned war zone until you're safe to be out here."

"Can you go two sentences without insulting me, faker?" Sonic retorted. "Hero complex, borderline masochism, c'mon. You know why I'm doing what I'm doing. What I don't get is why you're being such a jerk about it."

You've become nothing but an insect, waiting to be crushed under my foot.

"Because you're just not LISTENING!!!" Shadow yelled. They spun around furiously, to face Sonic, and immediately felt their stomach turn as they finally took in Sonic's look they'd been trying to avoid this whole time.

What they'd heard was that Sonic had been asleep for almost three straight days. He'd been low on sleep, food and water on top of his wounds, and they'd heard he was in really rough shape when he returned to the resistance.

What they saw fit that bill so much better than they'd wanted it to. Sonic was visibly roughed up, with dark circles under his green eyes. He'd lost weight, visibly. And the wounds that covered his body were pretty gruesome. There were various gashes and similar marks all over his torso, and a few tracking his thighs and calves as well. Along with that were other damaged spots and bruises that looked to be from robot attacks, and one marking- bruised and swollen, with a small cut in the center- on his face. A few of the marks looked almost intentionally branded, rough, messy metal burns in jagged lines and chunks beginning to bleed and swell too. But worst of all was a mark right on the side of Sonic's thin torso, a gash so deep that it had been stitched up, and covered in clear gauze bandaging- a gash that made Shadow's stomach turn again, and their chest clench with guilt, because they knew from Sonic's naturally high heart rate alone that whoever patched him up would not have been able to give anesthetics when that wound was stitched.

...No, that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the way Sonic had recoiled when they'd yelled at him.

Afraid they were going to hurt him.

Shadow felt something tight building and balling up in their throat.

They'd never been quick to cry. But they stared Sonic down, their glare quivering, and they were reminded of Maria. Of the one gunshot that was all it took to end a human life. A gunshot fired, soldiers present because of them. They traced his wounds with their eyes, and they thought of the blood spilled from his body, and the pain he'd been through. And how close he came to that one gunshot every second he was out here. Six months of torture. Six months of torture, a war won before it began, an enemy too strong to ever defeat, because of them.

This is reality, Shadow. YOUR reality.

"You're not... listening, hedgehog," Shadow repeated, their voice threatening to break. "You can't die. You can't leave us. You're recklessly endangering yourself and I don't know what I... what... any of us would do if you died on us. Not after everything you went through. We can't face that kind of loss, faker. You can't leave us too."

"Shadow," Sonic started, much softer this time. "I can't just stay on the sidelines. I have to help everyone. I was gone for months-"

"You were being held captive and tortured for months," Shadow interjected. "And I'm not letting you just run back in and endanger yourself again. I am not leaving until you accept that you aren't going anywhere."

"You're being ridiculous."

"You could end up dead."

Sonic recoiled again when Shadow made a sharp movement toward him, but he wasn't able to stop them- a quick chop to the side of the neck, straight to the vagus nerve as Shadow had learned rendered people unconscious, and Sonic collapsed. His knees buckled, and he fell right into the waiting grasp of Shadow.

But as soon as Sonic was out cold, Shadow found it near impossible to hold back tears. Absolutely abused and torn up, he looked lifeless. Hopeless. Shadow lifted him up into their arms, and he looked just like Shadow had feared. He looked so tortured, so damaged, so dead.

"I thought you were dead, damn it," They choked out. "I couldn't live with that on my shoulders."

The resistance base wasn't too far away. By the time they approached, Shadow decided to drop giving whoever had allowed Sonic to go out in combat a piece of their mind, and just insist it not happen again.

I couldn't live knowing his death was on me, too.

The blood of one loved one on their hands was already too hard to live with.

#~1400 words #sonadow #angst #sonic forces

33 notes · View notes

wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 2 years

Note

Maybe a Helena fic where mc gets hurt/killed and Helena is using all of her power for payback (god I need sleep! >~<)

WRITTEN BY @evoedbd

(Extract of an old work “In my Blood” Warnings for mentions of assault, mentions of sexual misconduct, strong language, violence, implications of mass murder of innocents, wildlife and plantlife, an OOC take on Helena if she had given into her demonic side and was focused on a single purpose.)

++++++++++++

“We can mobilize within the week. Any sooner is suicidal, my lord.” August was talking, informing Reiner of their troops even as the other retainers poured over their map. The sounds became sharper, the screeching of steel on steel that crescendoed into Helena’s waking conscious. The voices were clear, continuing from the group of Retainers as Helena blinked, centring herself for a few moments in reality. As expected, Kya was not by her side.

A week? That was unacceptable. Too long to be without warmth. Too long to wait for her heart to be returned to her chest, her soulmate to her arms. Kya didn’t have that week, plus however long the march would take. Every minute was two minutes too long for Kya to be alone in that vile bitch’s grasp. For every moment they waited, the Queen had longer to run her fingers over Kya’s flesh. To greet her thighs and flanks with knives as magic burned every nerve in her body. Would that week fade into years? Would Kya be exposed to the bruises down her thighs from fighting? The torn nails from clawing at the ropes? Would her own muscles cramp and clench as she rebelled against every advance? Worse, would that damage haunt her as it still haunted Helena? Would they both be reduced to desperation for their lover’s touch, yet their body still resisting the moment desire licked at their senses? How deeply would the Queen scar Kya within that week?

“Unacceptable...” Helena spoke, barely registering the instant silence in the wake of her words. Fires flickered all around her, potential deep beneath the ground. Blazing halos of possibility if only Helena willed them into a new direction. If she took from those too weak to use their strength. If she claimed. Devoured. Destroyed.

The choice was easy. With a single breath, she tightened her will around the sparks, harnessing her existence into a single purpose. Whatever blazed within her was overwhelming, stronger than anything she had summoned under the Queen’s reign. Where her magic had demanded control, this maelstrom was beyond the need for direction. Its existence alone was the path to her heart.

Helena took that first stride along the path, a vision of the past. A silhouette of shadows and manic glee. A witch of immeasurable power. With hair of moonlight, and impenetrable eyes of midnight black.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

The horizon offered nothing but a mantle of chaos. Dark clouds loomed, livid as bruises across the flesh of sky. The wind wailed, echoing cries of anguish from within the forest. The trees groaned, bending under the unending assault. Each gust disrupted the torches, which cast their flames gallantly in the face of such an incoming storm, scarcely enough to repel the encroaching darkness. The boldness of the flames flickered, casting shadows across the road as the Solders paced, the clunk of their steel joints birthing a duet with the screaming winds. Rain fell, creating a curtain of reflected whites as the skies growled, thunder rumbling as the force approached the simple barricade.

The herald of this destruction was a lone figure, tall and strong, almost unaffected beneath the protection of her cloak. Only wisps of winter gold were blown from beneath her hood, tussled on the wind. Shadows rippled across her body and spiralled around her legs in an impenetrable noxious smog. Dirt whipped through the air, dragging into the core of the storm as she advanced. Ash was left in her wake, footprints of desecrated life, redirected potential torn from everything within her reach.

“Halt! In the name of the Queen!” One Soldier yelled, his voice a whisper against the storm. The winds simply howled in return, as if the storm spoke for the approaching mage. The Soldiers ceased their patrol, turning to look at one another doubtfully. The air was charged with the promise of violence, tense as if holding its breath for the moment everything collided.

The woman did not give a response, continuing her advance. The air crackled and hissed around her, sounds that grew with the rumbling thunder as she came within range. Eyes void of humanity gazed out from beneath her hood, so immaculately dark that even the storm appeared as bright as the sun in comparison. The woman’s gaze devoured, silently promising to claim anything foolish enough to stand in her path. In contrast to the chill of the wind, the air surrounding the woman was blistering, baring the promise of flames. Her entire body appeared to smoulder, covered in wisps of rising steam as the rain met her heated flesh. Still, the soldiers held their ground, nervously looking to one another for guidance against such a force.

“I said halt or suffer the Queen’s wrath!” The first solder yelled once more, stepping forwards with his hand extended. His palm collided with the woman’s shoulder, halting her advance. The unforgiving void of her eyes shifted to the hand, gazing at the annoyance with no trace of emotion. Words evidently meant nothing, the threat apparently inconsequential. Her white gold hair fluttered briefly on the wind, which blew the smog from her figure as if it were smoke.

What remained was a powerful woman. Her legs were armored by shadowlike steel, embellished with delicate blue swirls that formed an impenetrable design of glyphs. Gold contained the swirling chaos of the magic, highlighting buckles that connected armor to dark leather. A skirt flowed around her legs, dark velvet with the stars painting the insides, reflecting the glow of her magic. Closer, one could see her armored corset matched the design of her guards, leaving defined biceps open to the air. Her forearms were protected by matching steel, blending into the covering over the backs of her hands. Her palms, remarkably, remained bare.

All that stood out of place was a brown traveller's cloak, which hung to the back of her knees. A cloak that was evidently too short for her tall, regal frame.

“I have endured her wrath long enough. It is time she suffered mine.” The Woman claimed, her regal voice a whisper of defiance that shook every man to their core. She had not shouted, yet effortlessly her declaration was heard above the brewing chaos.

“It’s Klein!” One of the soldiers yelled in a panic, drawing his blade in such a haste he almost lost his grip. The second could only stare. Paralysed by his indecision.

The soldiers shared stories about the betrayer. The Sorceress who turned on her Queen. Yet, they had not painted the picture he saw before him. They had spoken of a woman in pale armor wielding swords and spells. A woman who could easily dispatch ten men at once without her spells. The tales said one could hear her manic laughter before she struck down another foe, spoke of blue eyes filled with glazed enjoyment. A woman who fed off death. The stories he had heard spoke of how Helena Klein had fled the Queen’s side with her lover, attempting to remain as far away from the war as possible. They did not speak of a demon who commanded the skies, who spoke within the mind of every soldier. They did not prepare him for this.

Fear tangled his guts, rendered his fingers too stiff to hold his weapon as he watched his friend. Ash wafted from the inside of the armor as it collapsed upon itself, knees buckling and arms falling as more and more white ash poured out on the next gust of wind. Nothing was left of the soldier, his flesh reduced to ash by the mere gaze of The Sorceress. Years of life seized in a moment. A family left with not even a body to bury. Just a pile of armor and perhaps a pouch of disintegrated flesh. Soon, the helmet bounced along the ground, clunking as it collided with the steel of Helena Klein’s boot. The Sorceress mercilessly kicked it aside, indifferent to the life she had claimed. The glyphs of her armor swirled, always moving within their confines as she once more began her approach. She scarcely paused as the second soldier rushed at her, instead drawing her blades. The clash of steel on steel echoed a single time before there was a gurgle, along with a burst of red that stained the divine pale skin of Helena’s collar. The second solder crumpled at Helena’s feet, head falling backwards at an unnatural angle once Helena’s fist met his face. The gaping wound in his neck continued to pour blood, defiling the purity of Helena’s armor as she strolled by. Her sights set on the third man.

“P-please!” He cried desperately, falling to his knees as his hands came together in front of his chest. He was one man, a lone soldier against a legend. He knew he would be struck down, knew she could take everything away in moments no matter how hard he fought. He couldn’t die here. Who would feed his little girl? Or his son? Who could pay for his mother’s medicine while his wife kept the house? Their faces dominated his vision, printed behind his eyelids. The cheeky, toothless smile of his little boy. The beautiful eyes of his sweet girl, just like her mother’s. The croaking laugh of his mother filled his ears, along with the wet coughs that would bring blood to her lips.

“M-m-my family! I can’t die! Please! I’ll do anything!” He continued as the Sorceress stopped before him. His hands clung to her boot, slipping on the blood of his fallen comrades as he sobbed. The Queen’s cause was not worth this. Not worth the pain it would cause his family. Cool steel against the underside of his chin lifted his gaze to Helena’s, meeting the terror of her eyes for the first time. Briefly, he saw his pain reflected in her face. He thought he saw her brows twitch, a flinch through her body that could have just been the lightning cracking in the sky. Or, could it be sympathy? Could he have a chance?

“Where is Kya?” She demanded, her words slow and clear. There was no harshness in her voice, not when she spoke that name. That name rolled from her lips as if she were reluctant to part with it yet longed to scream it to the heavens in place of prayers. Even void of expression, the soldier instantly knew of whom she spoke. Her lover. Helena was attacking the Queen alone for her lover. She had to be!

“I don’t-” he began, his head aching as he tried to recall anything to aid in Helena’s search. To buy his life, and the wellbeing of his family. Instead, he saw her fist approaching his face, hilt held firmly in hand as her voice echoed within his entire being.

“Wrong answer.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fire. It filled her vision, writhed around her with the shadows of magic and death. The light danced across her skin and blades, answering the reflected gleam of soldiers armor as she ducked and weaved between the closest threats.

Of course there would be fire. Fire had been the tool the Queen had truly used to begin to break Helena. Magic had tormented her, touch had torn her dignity away, but it was the flames that burned the houses of her village down that had signalled the beginning of her fall into the monster she had become. A fire cast by her own vengeful hand, inspired by the whispers in a broken girl’s vulnerable ear. It only made sense the Queen would attempt to wield this tool in the face of Helena’s challenge, attempt to remind the Mage of her crimes in such a backhanded manner. A compliment to the threat she posed, and an insult to all she had ever held dear.

It was funny, how Helena had never found herself afraid of fire. It came to her naturally. Her body was constantly warmed by her magic, licking just beneath the surface of her skin. Her flame was radiant in its beauty, effortlessly controlled even though was tainted blue and black in her hands. It warmed her palms, flickering to life between fingers that caressed the spell. Collected and focused on her task, she casually flicked her wrist out towards the approaching soldiers. The flames faithfully leapt at her command, eager to illuminate her darkened path towards the castle.

Amidst the calming crackling, her ears caught the creak of steel joints. Helena didn’t need to see to know what was coming next, the woosh of a swung weapon. A thicker sound than a blade, slower and heavier. It was effortless to pivot to the left, twisting her blade to lightly knock the head of the mace aside. Just enough to unbalance her foe. The soldier went tumbling with a scream. It fell on deaf ears as Helena twisted once more into the next attack, slashing violently out at a soldier’s neck. Before even confirming the next man fell, Helena was turning to a third with a rapid thrust, her jagged left blade sweeping low as she completed her turn. She released her sword whilst driving her left blade down into the first man’s prone body. Where a normal blade may have failed, magic and skill allowed Helena to effortlessly plunge her weapon into the man’s chest cavity. She only had the time to claim a single breath before the thud of the final corpse hitting the ground flooded her ears, her blade still embedded in his unkempt armor.

“Archers! Take aim!” The commander’s voice echoed across the battlefield, along with the sound of a dozen steel boots striking the ground in unison. The Sorceress straightened, her shoulders baring the tension that crackled in the air. She turned her head to glare towards line of Archers out of the corners of her darkened eyes, which were filled with the calm promise of merciless carnage. All they saw was the determined slant of Helena’s jaw, complementing the way her brows furrowed ever so slightly, almost as if she were calculating which man to blame for the impasse. None thought to watch her shifting fingers, which twisted around the threads of black that wafted up from the fallen.

“Ready!” The Commander’s voice echoed. Helena’s fingers began to move more forcefully, tracing the shapes into the darkness as she waited for the moment to snap. She no longer acted on what she knew of magic, instead everything became infused with her memories. The curl of Kya’s shoulder blade beneath her palms. The erratically crisscrossed strands of raven hair a moment before she brushed it behind Kya’s adorable ears.

“Light!” The sound of that voice banished every joyful recollection and replaced them with reality. Helena homed in on that voice, focusing on the painfully bitter fact that this commander stood between her and her love. That was where she wanted all her rage targeted, to strike out and erase the obstacle holding her from the missing piece of her identity. Ash caught in the vortex of energy she channelled, swirling to bring the shapes to life across the ground beside her. Death crept and crawled into the circles and lines, black and menacing across the trampled earth as the moment drew out.

“FIRE!”

Helena dove for her jagged blade, allowing her magic to unleash the instant the sound of released strings echoed. The swirling of a portal opened before Helena, shielding her as she tore her blade from the husk of the soldier. As the dust flew from within his helmet, Helena moved to her other blade, grasping the hilt firmly in hand. Panicked screams reached her ears as flaming arrows flew, attempting to catch any of Helena’s garb in the flurry. Those arrows flew through her spell, redirected towards the source of her wrath. Splinters and flames rained down on the commander, setting his clothes aflame. The spell only lasted long enough to confuse the archers before they found Helena in their sights. No longer unified, every man fired for himself, feeding the disorder Helena thrived upon.

Swiftly, she withdrew her blade from the soldier. She swung it in a tight arc, filling the air with the scent of burning flesh as flames erupted from her blade, baking the blood coating it. The small burst of flame blistered through the arrows, lighting the battlefield in azure as ashen shapes fell at the Sorceress’ feet.

“How is she not dead? We can’t hit her!” A dismayed cry rung across the field as an archer lowered his bow, dark eyes widening in horror as he watched the smoke clear from the seemingly indestructible sorceress.

“Hold firm! She has to be nearing her limit!” A second called out in a louder voice, tone flooded with authority. The other archers remained steady, clinging to the words as if they were a lifeline. The faint hope that they could indeed overcome the odds.

That futile hope was terrifyingly familiar for Helena. An old friend. It was the power that motivated her through every trial, allowed her to cast when her body screamed in agony. The futile hope that it would earn the affection she had longed for. Take the lives and maybe she’d be spared, or better yet, touched. That was what love was, touch. Giving delight to the other. Now she understood how futile that had been. How that hope had truly been an enemy, driving her to self-depreciation and torment again and again. Just as it drove these soldiers to death again and again. It was a toxic hope she fed with every sword swipe, fighting as if she were bound by these ineffective rules. Acting on the restraints of human warfare.

She was methodical as she resumed her approach, sliding her blades back into their sheaths as she began to mentally chant her spells. The chanting would be wasted energy if she let the words escape, yet they were such a part of her that her mind galivanted through the sounds like a child skipping through the grass. The air surrounding her became alive, distorting and warping into the shapes of her glyphs. Black sparks ran wild, playing the role of fish in the face of the tidal wave of spells.

“KILL HER! FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST SHOOT THE BITCH!” A borderline frenzied soldier cried out, loosing his arrow in sheer desperation. The air became dank with fear, the sound of unravelling soldiers filling the ears of the battle field as they all doubled down on their efforts to slay Helena.

Arrows rained down between the archers and Helena, bouncing off the air as if it had solidified once within range of Helena’s body. Each time, sparks erupted, briefly illuminating a complex layer of hexagonal and circular links that formed a net before Helena’s extended hand. The twang of bowstrings became louder and louder in her ears as she sprinted closer and closer, closing the distance between herself and her goal. Each strike was small, yet the arrows began to prick through the projected glyph, ripping traces of blue apart as if it were made of twine or leather instead of magical essence. Like a thousand little cuts that would lead one to bleed out without a bandage. Without action. Her reaction was a risk, a calculation Helena wouldn’t usually have made so quickly. One second her hand was extended, attempting to mend the broken barrier, the next she ducked an oncoming hail. Her boots skidded on the field, causing a cloud of disturbed dust to burst before her. Without the glyph, Helena was free to focus her energy once more, freezing the air before her until a pillar of blackened ice gleamed like polished onyx between herself and her prey. Her foot collided with the ice, followed by her shoulder as she righted her posture with a calm breath in.

She was the spider, weaving her web of magic and power as ants put up a token resistance. Ants too entwined and tangled to disengage and too few to pose any threat. With savage fangs, Helena tore their illusions of hope apart. Her fingers spread, copied by the shadows lapping at her ankles. She clawed at the air, almost sneering as she twisted her hand and reached for the men. Like the material of a tapestry, she could feel them beneath her fingertips. Fine strings of cotton throbbing like a pulse. Heartbeats infused with fear and agony which she followed back to their cores. The colours at her disposal were unfathomable, potential energy she could harness to any purpose if only she wove the strings correctly upon the loom of fate. Unfortunately, she did not have the patience of fate nor the foresight. She had a single purpose. A picture of black to create for any standing in her way. Thus, she tore the threads from the tapestry, threading them into the coils of power simmering beneath her skin. Dark as the void, black as the moonless night. Death.

For the soldiers, it was agonizing. A group of men trying to cling to shadowy claws that tore into their chest cavities. Steel, flesh and bone meant nothing to the power as it pulled their lungs in opposite directions, intent on exposing their smouldering hearts. Their veins darkened beneath their skin, turning the colour of dusk the longer the power tore at them. Blood swiftly dried, turning to muddy, crumbling dust between their fingers, coating the earth before crawling towards Helena.

For Helena, it burned. Every muscle in her body longed to cringe away, to writhe free of the agony such a flood of energy brought. A single body was not enough to contain this much raw power, a prison of mere flesh trying to hold back the tides of the ocean. A child’s hand attempting to still a hurricane. The blood dust crept along her skin, forming layers of runes that continued to creep and move across her flesh. A thousand words in a thousand lost tongues flowed across her hands, around her arms and chest, turning her into something akin to a living shadow. The maelstrom of dust embraced her legs, concealing them from sight as her feet left the ground. Darkness embraced her once more, causing her hair to gleam like sunlight as it fluttered amidst the storm. Wordlessly, she extended her arms, allowing the wings of shadow to hold her aloft as she floated past the dead, oblivious to the sound of their armour striking stone again and again as her eyes fixated upon a single goal... the gates of hell itself, frozen over by a depraved lunatic masquerading as a Queen.

#anonymous #answered #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #lovestruck fanfiction #helena klein #helena x mc #love & legends #angst #heavy angst #tw: violence #woeful wednesday

26 notes · View notes