#plot twist none of them are his natural hair color his natural hair is like brown or something

[clairdelunelove]

sunset boulevard

itadori yuuji x f!reader

genre: fluff! (blind date! one shot)

warnings: none, 2.6k words

synopsis: you don't do blind dates; too much risk with little reward. but your friends assure you that this time it'll be different. and when the epitome of 'the boy next door' starts talking to you at the amusement park– you think they're right.

a.n. haha, not my brainrot about itadori being so bad that I had to write this. and nu, I've never been on a blind date before but imma write about it :3

-

-

-

you created it on a whim. encouraged by your friends’ prodding and teasing about your love life- or lack thereof- so your fingers clicked on the newly downloaded app. meant to be just for fun. a silly topic for your girls’ night. “just for the plot,” you told them with a knowing shake of your head when they all impishly giggled. a generic dating app where most people on there had an ulterior motive and would do anything to achieve it. but you weren’t willing to accept that, promising yourself to keep boundaries. the limit that you’re willing to bargain on is a public date. emphasis on the ‘public’ part because your friends are already scheming. whispers about a netflix and chill type of date. but you sign into the app, choosing a couple pictures of yourself that are adequate enough to catch some attention, and write a creative bio. it’s impressionable. modest. wholesome. definitely not the route that your friends desired for you to engage in. “done,” you state matter-of-factly. a beat of silence passes. the realization that you’re actually agreeing to this sets in. much to your chagrin, your friends end up snatching your phone from your hands and adding their own spin to your profile. editing your pictures to the ones that they have on their phones. “we’ll set you up with someone good for you,” your friend reassures with a good-natured pat on your back. “real good,” your other friend slyly drawls and bursts out laughing with the others. you don’t know whether your stomach twists from nervousness or anticipation from their ruse. 

-

ten minutes until your date is deemed late. twisting your wrist, you glance at your watch again just to confirm your suspicion and huff. you’d arrived half an hour earlier than the time your friends texted you. your motto was that it was better to be incredibly early than late, especially since you had no idea what your date looked like. but the fear of being deserted causes you to shift on your feet as you sidestep out of the way for a group of teenagers to pass. wouldn’t be the first time you’d get stood up. glancing upward, you double-check that you’re standing underneath the carnival’s main attraction– the ferris wheel. its bright, illuminated colors jump out at you, almost mockingly, as if to highlight the gloomy frown plastered on your face.

“waiting for someone too?”

the voice snaps you out of your daze and you’re left peering up at the person that seemingly appeared out of thin air. he’s attractive– the kind of appeal that leaves you breathless from his inquisitive eyes and easy grin. a slender hand is carded in his hair as he patiently awaits for your response.

“yeah,” you croak before hastily clearing your throat, “I am.”

it shocks you that he’s even conversing with you. clad in a yellow hoodie and denim jeans, he’s the epitome of 'the boy next door.' could probably win the role for starring in the newest coming of age movie that’s bound to gain revenue just from his visage. he’s adorned in vibrant colors that contrast your pastel-toned clothes and you self-consciously pull at your shirt. 

“wanna check out that game right there? promise it’ll be quick!” 

from the corner of your eye, you recognize that he’s angled towards you as the question leaves his lips. gosh, is he talking to you? almost like he’s inviting you to spend some time with him in the meantime.

dumbfounded, your mouth drops open as you point to yourself, “me? you’re talking to me?” 

“of course!” he replies enthusiastically like it’s second nature for him to hang out with strangers, “might as well take advantage of the time, right?” 

he adjusts his backpack by slinging the dark strap over his shoulder and turns to walk in the direction of the nearby carnival booths that have games lined up for customers. you note that he attempts to blend in with the crowd but his upbeat attitude is too perceivable. has a glimmer in his eyes that attracts the ogling of bystanders. luminescent signs light up the path to the section dedicated to the midway. wooden signs promising ‘fun’ and ‘a winner every time’ written in bubbly font. it’s enticing. it’s fun– an experience that you’ve lacked recently. and before you can argue that you’re waiting for someone, the blushy haired male ushers you to follow with a wave of his hand. 

“c’mon!” 

you’re lightly jogging after him, short strides compared to his long ones, and manage to catch up to him with an exasperated breath. he’s fit; not the type where his physique screams ‘gym rat’ but rather that he’s the epitome of good health.

catching sight of you beside him, he gleefully chuckles, “knew you’d be up for some fun! I’m–”

he breaks off to gawk at a booth that grabs his attention and instantly treads through the crowd to line up for it. the game has the typical objective of knocking over a pyramid of milk bottles. you stare at it expectantly, knowing that this midway game is usually fixed; bottles stacked on the bottom are filled with sand or lead that weigh in a couple extra pounds and the given ball is unusually light. he’s buzzing with excitement, though. hastily patting his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and whips out enough money to buy a turn. 

“I’m itadori yuuji, by the way,” he finally continues his belated introduction while pushing the money into the midway worker’s hands. 

“yuuji,” you repeat and savor the name on your lips, “these games are usually rigged, ya know.” 

"are they?”

he doesn’t seem bothered by the carnival’s dirty tactic, however. merely chirps a word of gratitude when the worker tosses him the singular ball and deftly explains the rules of the game. the customary one chance to knock over all three milk bottles and you knowingly press your lips together. 

yet, your eyes comically widen as he begins to strip his hoodie off and hands it to you, “can you hold this for a second? thanks!” 

straight away, the movement coaxes onlookers to turn their attention to the both of you. steely gazes focused on the cuts of muscle on yuuji’s arm as he rolled his shoulder to stretch. you’re no exception. in fact, you take back what you earlier assumed about his physique. baffled by how his baggy clothes managed to cover his impressive build, you hurriedly turn your chin to hide the warmth that spreads across your cheeks and neatly tuck his hoodie under your arm. his physique is essentially out of a magazine— broad, beefy shoulders that taper off into a small waist.

your lips move before you can stop them. “you got this!” 

an expression of shock paints his face due to your encouragement before he flashes you a lopsided grin; boyish before he concentrates. there’s a gleam in his eyes as he retracts his arm like he’s winding up to pitch in a baseball game. then, he lobs— no, hurls— it straight at the tower of milk bottles. the ball whizzes through the air and the targets come crashing down from the sheer power of his throw. it’s startling. dazed, you’re left wondering if the stranger you just met is secretly superhuman. 

“we have a winner!” the midway worker roars to the enthusiastic crowd.

“yes!” 

yuuji pumps his fist in the air as the worker and a couple people in the crowd come to congratulate him. he’s all smiles now. there’s a big, toothy grin plastered on his face when the worker hands him his prize; a large teddy bear that has a red bow on its chest and the sheer size of it has him grasping onto it with both hands. 

“look!” he exclaims and gently shakes the stuffed toy in his grasp, “do you like it?” 

you can’t help but giggle at the exhilaration behind his gaze, “it’s cute!”

he’s clearly pleased by your reaction, swiping a finger over his nose before bursting out into laughter and your heart fills. his habits are so endearing and wholesome that it’s heartwarming. abruptly, the teddy bear is pushed into your chest and yuuji's knuckles brush against yours from the maneuver. the stuffed bear’s big, beady eyes stare at you as yuuji deliberately turns to shrug on his hoodie again. 

“it’s for you!” 

his confession is a little muffled as he extends his arms through his sleeves and it occurs to you that he’s whirled away from you for a reason. a dust of pink washes over his cheeks and he runs a sheepish hand through his tousled hair. 

“I won it for you,” he reiterates, almost bashful, “I mean, you did come and spend some time with me when you were probably busy but–” 

it’s a stark contrast from the confident and affable guise that he’s shown you. a peek into his personality that you’ve yet to appreciate. he kicks at a stray pebble on the pavement while his hands are shoved into his pockets. the way his blushy hair is a similar shade to the tips of his ears causes you to inwardly melt.

your thoughts go haywire but a demure smile stretches across your glossy lips, “thank you, yuuji. I love it.” 

he clears his throat, murmurs a comment about how it’s not a huge deal, and faces you. yuuji blinks— once, twice, and his gaze softens. then, he utters a compliment that goes straight to your heart. 

“you look cute like that.” 

it’s straightforward, candid but you still ask, “like what?”

“happy.” 

you let him tug you to the next midway booth. 

-

“aw, come on!” 

yuuji’s droning is followed by the teasing nudge he gives you. the touch draws out a yelp from you and the sound immediately reduces him into a laughing fit. for now, the both of you agreed to do a little sightseeing before the amusement park closed for the day. it was already evening; the sky was a cascade of apricot and vermilion. a beautiful vision to match the day. spending time with yuuji was like being in a trance. time seemed to slip quicker when he was with you. 

naturally, your fingers reach to pinch his cheek due to his antics. 

“ow!” he cries and childishly rubs at the inflicted area, “not my fault I’m good at every game here.” 

although the blushy haired male is telling the truth, you can’t help but pout at his words because yes– he was basically a professional at every game in the midway. you’ve tried your hand at a couple booths. yuuji insisted on paying for anything you touched and fondly watched. however, he was soon tagged in whenever you were unsuccessful and he managed to turn the game’s odds around. evident in the countless plushies that’s tucked in his strong arms. all of them were for you, of course. he just plucked them out of your grasp when you briefly mentioned how your arms were getting tired from carrying them around. 

“you’re in denial!” he singsongs and grins wider when he hears you huff in exasperation. 

“I am not in denial!” 

“you are!” 

“well, you’ve spent a lot on these games,” you pause to lower your voice, “and on me. you haven’t even known me for that long.” 

unsurprisingly, he recognizes the concern laced on your words and stops walking. his brows furrowed. the teasing grin is wiped from his face and is replaced with a tender gaze. forever wise and dependable. he leans down, hooks a finger under your chin, and murmurs his reasoning. 

“honestly,” his voice trails off in remembrance, “I barely have any time to do fun stuff like this so I'm taking advantage of it.” 

the sentiment is supposed to be understandable, one that many individuals’ share in life. yet, you can’t help but assume that his words weigh heavier than the average person’s. it stabs at your heart to know that such a kind soul is no stranger to heartache.

“besides,” he interrupts your train of thought and gleefully grins, “I get to win a pretty girl some prizes. sounds like a win to me.”  

with an affectionate compliment, yuuji cleverly brings back the light-hearted mood from earlier. he’s skilled at this– redirecting your focus through an optimistic point of view. one of his traits that you’re smitten with. fondly patting your head, he takes a step back and rises to his full height. he’s still gauging your expression, though. his eyes are like liquid honey from this proximity and you’re in awe. truth be told, you might never meet another person quite like him.

you can’t help but poke fun, “are you saying that you usually pick up girls at the amusement park, yuuji?” 

“me? nah,” then he murmurs, a tinge of guilt coating his words, “I was actually supposed to go on a blind date here.”

the remark leaves his lips in a single, rushed breath like it’s been bothering him the entire time. he’s quiet. his arms tighten around the stuffed animals in his grasp and he tilts his head in contemplation. he’s internally battling himself. why did he have to open his mouth? is he ruining this and digging his own grave? frown deepening, he vaguely wonders if he should’ve brought it up in the first place. perhaps you would think of him differently and then– 

from this angle you get a glimpse of his throat bobbing before he quickly adds, “but I liked this better.” 

what the blushy haired male isn’t expecting, though, is how your face breaks into astonishment, “wait. a blind date? I’m supposed to be on a blind date too!” 

you couldn’t believe your luck.

“you’re (y/n)?” 

willingly nodding at his inquiry, yuuji sputters in disbelief and shifts the prizes under one arm so he can put a hand on your shoulder, “this is crazy! like, crazy in a good way but still– crazy! who would’ve thought, right?” 

long arms blindly reaching for you, he wraps you into a hug that has your face squished into the hard expanse of his chest. he’s laughing wildly– a genuine sound that brings an emotion that knocks the wind out of you because he’s truly thrilled that you are his blind date. your fingers grip the back of his hoodie, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his warmth. 

“and here I was dreading the blind date that kugisaki and fushiguro set up for me,” he thoughtlessly mumbles in your hair while retelling his own version of how his friends forced encouraged him to go.

pulling away, albeit unhurriedly, the both of you exchanged phone numbers and promises of keeping in touch were whispered into the evening air. 

“you can text me whenever you want,” yuuji tucks his phone back into his pocket while sheepishly grinning, “even if you don’t have a reason to.” 

cheekily texting him a greeting, for the fun of it, you grin when his phone dings at the notification, “I will.” 

puffs of warm air swirl and intermingle into one. his eyes twinkled in the streetlights’ rays of light. it was romantic– sickeningly so that you wondered if you were dreaming.

-

yuuji ended up lending you his hoodie, chuckling when the bright, oversized garment swaddled you. he even walked you back to your place and waited in the chill until he heard the door’s lock click into place. there’s a bounce in your step when you waltz into your bedroom. 

with all the stuffed animals neatly lined up on your bed, you instantly snap a picture of you and yuuji’s winnings. your fingers swiftly dropped the photo in your friends’ group chat before sending it to yuuji. and your lips curl into a smile when his text bubbles immediately appear on the screen. memorabilia of your first– successful– blind date with someone that was too good to be true. 

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

[green-socks]

Who You Are

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x gn!reader

Summary: You take Adrian to a work event, but the night causes some insecurities to rise for him. You assure him that he's perfect just as he is.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: None, really. Some insecurity and some misunderstanding I guess but nothing major.

Notes: My first time writing Adrian, eek! This is super self-indulgent, as might be obvious lol, but what is fic writing if not self-indulgence, so I just let it out. Maybe someone else can relate, and if not, hope you enjoy anyway! Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer and @yespolkadotkitty for looking this over and assuring me it's not crap <3 And a general thank you to @mandocrasis for the constant thotting&plotting. The spark to write this came from you.

MASTERLIST

You thought you’d seen everything when your boyfriend showed you his Vigilante costume.

You have seen him at his most dangerous, almost unrecognizable from the adorable dork he usually is. You have seen him at his most natural, stripped naked both from clothes as well as any pretenses. You know Vigilante, but you know the regular Adrian best. Better than anyone else, you dare say.

You know the Adrian with rumpled hair, in a slightly torn t-shirt and those faded sweatpants, playing games on his computer. You know the Adrian who gives you a deep analysis on his morning cereal like it’s fine wine. The Adrian who blushes endearingly when you tell him he’s doing a good job. The Adrian who will literally bend over backwards or jump over hurdles (such as the couch) to help you in any way he can.

That Adrian you know.

“Babe, are you ready to go? I know you don’t like being late so I really think we should leave now,” he says as he appears in the bathroom door frame.

This Adrian? Him you’ve never seen before.

“Oh my god, Adrian,” you gasp at a loss for any more words.

“What?” He stops in his tracks. “Oh man, is the suit wrong? Chris said the color was unusual, I should have listened, he always knows more about these things! I guess I could find another real quick somewhere, or maybe it’ll be dark there and no one will see–”

“Baby, no, you look amazing!” you rush to reassure him, still gaping at the transformation. “I’ve just never seen you in a suit before. You look like fucking Prince Charming or something!”

“Really? You think it’s okay?” The relief is clear in his voice.

“Yes! Now let’s go so we won’t be late, I’d feel bad for not getting to show you off,” you wink at him.

-

To be completely honest, you had been a little bit nervous about taking Adrian to this work event since this wasn’t his usual style or scene at all, afraid he wouldn’t enjoy himself. You’d even told him he doesn’t have to wear a suit, but damn he had cleaned up well. It’s clear you’re not the only one impressed by his looks tonight with the way your boyfriend is turning heads left and right. The old lady brigade of your office is giggling in increasing volume at everything he says, and you decide it's best to go save him from their claws before it’s too late. You’ve seen what they get like when there’s tequila. Even so, you take a weird satisfaction in knowing that you’re the only one who actually gets to call him pretty and watch how his legs tremble just a little bit when you do.

At one point you notice him squinting at a menu a lot, and you realize something.

“Wait, Adrian, why aren’t you wearing your glasses? You know you can’t see as well with your contacts.”

“Well, I thought I’d look more sophisticated and serious without them,” Adrian explains thoughtfully.

“Honey, no work event is worth getting a headache over, at least not like that. Besides, I think your glasses look both sexy and cute. There’s nothing wrong with them!”

“You really think so?” Adrian looks very pleased.

This is now the second time tonight Adrian has been surprised at you finding him good-looking and assuring him he’s perfect, and that makes your stomach twist painfully. Do you really not tell him that enough? Does he really worry about you not liking how he looks or how he is? It makes you feel absolutely awful to think that he has felt like that, that you haven’t been there enough for him. Maybe you should remember to be even more vocal about how much you appreciate him? Adrian does seem to appreciate hearing you praise him.

You make a vow then and there to remember to say out loud how much you adore and appreciate him, but it still puts a damper on your mood for the rest of the night. The last thing you want is to make Adrian feel less than, when he always makes you feel so good about yourself, and the guilt is making it hard to enjoy the festivities.

-

An hour and a half later Adrian quietly suggests you two head out, and you agree instantly. On the ride home you’re both much, much more quiet and subdued than usual, and you wonder if there’s something weighing on Adrian’s mind too. Maybe the party had been too overwhelming for him, and you hadn’t supported him enough.

When you get home, the weird silence lingers, and you don’t really know how to break it. Adrian is usually the one to lighten the air just by being.. well, himself, but again, for the second time tonight you find you’re not really familiar with this version of Adrian. He looks tired, but it’s more than that. It’s like he’s preparing for a blow even while being too tired to do anything but collapse on your couch.

You’re convinced you have done something to hurt him, and it’s eating your insides to see him like this.

“Adrian, baby, is– is everything okay? Did I do something? Was the party horrible? Does your head hurt again?”

He lifts his head and visibly tenses. “No, of course you didn’t do anything wrong, why would you think that?”

“Well you seem really quiet, and sort of.. not like yourself,” you say tentatively. “Not that you always have to be full of energy, but you kind of seem like you’re avoiding something, like maybe.. me.”

“I just didn’t wanna embarrass you,” Adrian mumbles.

“What? How–”

“At the party. I didn’t want to embarrass you by being annoying and loud and behaving badly, like I always do, because it was really important and your work is really important and you’re so smart and professional and I’m so proud of you, and so I tried to stay quiet and not annoy anyone, I really tried babe, but then you seemed a little sad and I thought you must be upset with me because I didn’t know how to act there, and I get really tired focusing on not being annoying even when I don’t always know why I’m annoying, and that’s why I’m just super tired right now, I’m sorry babe.”

Adrian explains the issue with his usual fast pace, and you try to hang on as best you can, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been poured on your head the longer he speaks.

“Adrian, honey, I am so so sorry if I have ever made you feel like I’m embarrassed by you,” you speak through the lump in your throat. “I am not embarrassed by you – in fact I am proud to be with you. I appreciate you coming with me tonight and trying to fit in like that, but you don’t have to do that. I would rather you feel comfortable than care what anyone else thinks.”

“You mean you don’t have a list of things I did wrong that you want to go over with me now?” Adrian asks, still unsure.

“No, I absolutely do not,” you assure him with conviction. “If anything, I could make a list of all the things you did right, because I really enjoy being with you baby. I don’t think you behave badly, I thought you were very polite and charming!”

You’re starting to realize that maybe you really do need to pay attention to affirming and praising him – and not just about his looks – because it hits you that what you are saying right now is the complete opposite of what Adrian has been told all his life. Even his friends tell him he’s too much, and yeah, maybe sometimes you can see that, but you’ve never felt like it or that he would need to rein himself in in some way. And you’ve certainly never been embarrassed to be his.

“I would never want you to change who you are, baby, because I love who you are,” you whisper, reaching out to cup his cheek to make sure he understands you mean it.

For once it seems Adrian is speechless, but what he can’t say in words he conveys in fierce hugs and kisses, and you have no trouble understanding he returns the three words even without him saying them. Very quickly he returns to his usual self, the exhaustion apparently all forgotten now.

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

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x you #peacemaker fanfic #i still don't know what i'm doing #i accidentally wrote something

[opulvnts]

    •  •  •    lolita  by  lana  del  rey :    spotted !    if  it  isn’t  aiyla  sözeri  walking  through  the  streets  of  nyc .    people  say  she  looks  like  hande  erçel ,    but  i  really  don’t  see  it .    the  thirty  year  old  humanitarian  aid  worker  &  actress  is  out  here  making  mommy  and  daddy  proud .    while  they  have  been  known  to  be  beguiling ,    we’ve  all  seen  their  obdurate  nature  come  to  light .    sources  tell  me  they  remind  people  of  effortless  elegance ,    a  heart  made  of  gold ,    disregarding  celebrity  status  in  favour  of  the  mundane ,    exuding  gentle  femininity .    /  ciswoman  /  she  &  her .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  ,   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗌 .

official   name  :  aiyla   zehra   sözeri  .   nickname  :  lia  .   birthdate  : july   9th  ,   1992  .   birthplace  :  istanbul  ,   turkey  .   citizenship  :  turkish  -  american  .   current   residence  :  pacific   palisades  ,   los  angeles  .   gender  :   cis   female  ,   she / her   pronouns  .   orientation  :   bisexual  ,   biromantic  .  languages  :  turkish  ,   english  ,   french  ,   spanish  .   occupation  :   actress  &   humanitarian   aid   worker  .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  ,   𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 .

faceclaim  :  hande   erçel  .   height  :   five   foot   five  .   build  :  slim  ,   toned .   eye   color  :  brown  .   hair   color  :   brown  .   hair   style  :  natural   waves .   signature   scent  :  irresistible   by   givenchy  .   style  :  very   feminine  ,   subtle   luxury  ,   timeless  .   piercings  :   three   on   each   lobe  .   tattoos  :  none  .   scars  :   none  .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  , 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 .  

big   three  :  cancer   sun  ,   scorpio   moon  ,   sagittarius   rising  .   mbti  :   infp  -  a  .   label  : the   philanthropic  .   traits  :  beguiling  ,   altruisitc  ,   obdurate  ,   workaholic  .   character   inspo  :  bonnie   bennet   (  tvd  )  ,   annie   january   (  the   boys  )  ,   esme   cullen   (  twilight  )  ,   kala   dandekar   (  sens8  )  .

♡     ◞        𝐷𝑂𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐸𝑅  ,    𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘭 .  

biological   father  :  malik   sözeri  .   occupation  :  politician  .   biological   mother  : yasemin   sözeri  .   occupation  :   former   model  ,   head   of   multiple   charitable   organisations  .   siblings  :  demir   sözeri  ,   kazim   sözeri ,   aydin   sözeri   &   nesrin   altintaş  .

♡     ◞        𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀  ,   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 .

born   in   istanbul ,      aiyla   was   the   daughter   to   two   very   successful   people .      her   father ,      malik ,      was   a   former   business   tycoon   who   made   his   way   onto   the   political   circuit   and   her   mother ,      yasemin ,      used   to   model   for   high   end   designers   but   is   now   running   her   own   charity   organisations .

moving   to   the   united   states   was   a   decision   malik   made   in   order   to   further   his   political   career   as   well   as   strengthen   ties   for   his   business .

initially   aiyla   disliked   her   new   home ,      the   culture   shock   was   intense  and  she   missed   her   extended   family   in   istanbul .      but   determination   to   make   it   in   a   foreign   country   was   all   that   drove   her ,      she   wasn’t   concerned   with   the   fame ,      fortune   or   prestige   that   her   parents   had .      instead   aiyla   wanted   to   do   what   she   felt   passionate   about ,      regardless   of   whether   or   not   it’d   gain   her   notoriety .

aiyla   grew   up   watching   her   older   brothers   vying   for   her   father’s   attention ,      each   of   them   undertaking   studies   that   they   thought   would   look   promising   in   his   eyes   and   gain   them   praise   and   adoration .      more   than   often   malik   was   cold ,      harsh   and   uncaring ,      most   of   it   directed   at   his   youngest ,      aiyla .      he   felt   disappointed   that   she   didn’t   aim   for   the   same   studies   or   occupations   as   her   brothers   did ,     one’s   malik   viewed   as   admirable   and   worth   his   acknowledgement .

malik   and   yasemin   sözeri   died   while   on   their   way   to   venice ,      malik   had   just   been   elected   as   his   states   governor   and   was   joining   his   wife   on   her   trip   to   italy   for   a   celebration   for   her   charity .      their   plane   had   a   systems   malfunction   and   crashed   into   the   ocean ,      leaving   no   survivors .      the   siblings   went   to   italy   to   identify   the   remains   and   wreckage ,      the   eldest   of   her   brothers   demir   id’d   their   parents .      (   plot   twist .....    they’re   alive  ..   )  

aiyla   was   eleven   when   her   parents   died ,      being   left   to   be   raised   by   her   brothers   and   parents   friends .      the   last   interactions   she   had   with   her   parents   weren’t   the   greatest ,      her   father   and   her   arguing ,      him   telling   her   she’d   never   amount   to   anything   and   that   she   was   a   disappointment .      while   her   mother   pleaded   with   aiyla   to   stop   angering   her   father   and   to   walk   away   to   lessen   the   damage   to   their   relationship ,      promising   they’d   sort   it   out   when   they   returned .    

after   the   accident   her   brothers   started   to   grow   distant ,      each   focusing   on  their   own   careers .      during   this   time   aiyla   focused   on   school ,     once   graduating   she   took   on   the   sözeri   foundation   in   honour   of   her   mother .      she   focused   largely   on   humanitarian   work   and   philanthropy .

she   started   acting   to   pay   bills ,     even   though   she   was   technically   loaded   she   wanted   to   earn   her   own   money .      she   had   pointers   from   her  grandmother   who   was   a   famous   turkish   movie   star   and   aiyla’s   notoriety   grew   from   her   first   film .

♡     ◞        𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬  ,   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 .

doesn’t   care   about   her   fame   all   that   much ,      you’ll   one   hundred   percent   find   her   out   and   about   doing   mundane   things .      but   it’s   also   because   she   doesn’t   quite   understand   the   level   of   her   popularity   either .

she   uses   her   appearances   and   social   media   accounts   to   advertise   important   charities   and   bring   attention   to   conflicts   in   foreign   countries   and   their   displaced   citizens .

wants   to   do   more   movies   in   turkish ,      has   only   done   one    thus   far .

has   citizenship   in   the   united   states ,     turkey   and   cambodia   (   this   was   awarded   to   her   in   recognition   of   her   environmental   and   conservation   work   in   the   country .   )

aiyla   has   walked   in   new   york   fashion   week   as   well   as   fashion   week   in   milan ,     media   drawing   comparisons   to   her   late   supermodel   mom .

is   currently   dating   dylan   rain .

#aiyla sözeri .

[insufferablelust]

Pretty Little Thing, (I)

Hi! i’m back to bring new mini series i’ve been working on during my hospital stay! i hope you wnjoy this! and give me your feedbacks! thank you.

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation. It started out as Professor!Spencer x Reader, but it’ll progress to Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader. WITH PLOT TWIST heheh, enjoy.

MASTERLIST.

——————

Y/A/N was never the one to rush into classes, she always took her time and were never late. She’s the epitome of perfect straight A’s student, many teacher’s pet. And to say that she has a lot of people who would want to see her struggle was an understatement, one of those people would be Spencer Reid.

Weird to imagine a professor who would want to see his student fail, yet something about her irked Spencer beyond belief. Maybe it’s the natural tension between them ever since she walked into criminal psychology, most of his students were either had a slight interest on the subject or just on him— but Y/A/N she seemed to have an interest on both. The moment she stepped into his class, he was intrigued by her, not just her outstanding beauty but also the way she responds, her body language and her overall demeanor.

Spencer was aware that she was your typical good girl, but something about the glint in her eyes just doesn’t settle well with the good girl esque that she was portraying. There was something much darker about her, that much he knew— being a profiler and an iq of 187 would tell him that, but this time it was his guts talking to him. She raised her hand almost every time he asked questions to his class, even when he thought it was a rhetorical question. She managed to frustrate him in ways he gets so fed up that he needed to do some research on who she was. Truly.

And what he had found might as well killed him on sight, digging through files of her faces, confusion rake over his brain like storms. Initially, he was going to do some background check, maybe she turned out to be a child prodigy just like him. But what he found shattered his every thought, There she was, with different hair styles and colors, different contact lenses, styles, her various names scattered through tons of criminal data bases.

Spencer gulped as he saw her amongst the women affiliated with Cat Adams, the woman who put him in jail, the woman who irked him to no end just like Y/A/N now. His eyes kept on glazing over the files on Garcia’s laptop, tying her to more evidence that she was in fact not the girl everyone thought she was— god how old even is she? She’s good at hiding, and he knows it.

“Well genius, have you finished stalking that fellow super genius student of yours?” Garcia popped her head back inside her bat-cave as she carried two mugs, one over sugared coffee and one tea for her. As she sat down, she finally realized that Reid was pale— as in ‘horrified’ looking pale.

“Reid, hey what did you—“ Penelope left her jaw open when she finally saw the two matching photos from the face recognition program of a uni student and next to it was a wanted assassin named,

“Y/N Y/l/N...” Spencer beat Garcia on saying her name, the only thing in his mind was ‘Y/N, Y/N, Y/N’ his head spinning as he tried to rake through his brain, trying to find a reason why he didn’t recognized a wanted assassin- Cat’s close relations in his class. He finally looked up to a seemingly horrified Garcia and muttered a pained, “We have to tell the team.”

—————

“The Unsub is 24 years old Y/N Y/l/N, She has been under the radar since Catherine Adams’s arrest back in 2015, we believed that she is one of the Hit woman working alone with Cat at the time of her arrest even going as far as recent.” Prentiss placed her hand inside her pants pocket as she looked at Tara to continue the profile which being given to FBI agents as well as International crime task force. Her eyes then flickered to Spencer, which seemed to be occupied by the face recognition photos still.

“She’s a very well trained assassin, she was taught to manipulate, to hide in plain sight, and most likely is multilingual.” Tara continued,

“She’s a dangerous serial killer, her targets has always been men with higher status, She’s narcissistic, most likely misandristic, and psychopathic.”

“We believed that she hasn’t been killing in over 2 years, but now started again because her partner was executed few months ago.” JJ took a deep breath as she continued after Alvez,

“Cat Adam’s execution is her stressor, she knows we’ll find her, that’s why she risked on changing her identity to Y/A/N, a student of SSA Spencer Reid. We have every reason to believe that he’s her next target which makes her our primary target, and now that she have our attention, let’s get her before she continue her plans.” Prentiss finished, nodding off to the field agents, before turning back up to the meeting room where Reid was.

“Reid you know that—“

“How can i not recognized her? we profiled her years ago, she was in one of Cat’s list, and how did i missed it?” Spencer stresses, hands gripping the table tightly and breathing heavily.

“Listen to me, you found her, you knew something was wrong and you followed your guts, and we will get her Reid.”

—————

Y/N delicately put on the white knee high socks before slipping into her converse and slip her pocket knife onto the small strap on her thigh— smiling at herself as she applied the pink lipgloss then grabbed her bag and head out to campus. She looked over her watch excitedly as she realized who’s class she’s going to spend the first period at.

She parked her car on the usual spot as she preparing to get out, but something caught her eyes just before she opened her car door,

FBI Agents, everywhere. Her eyes widened as she hurriedly presses the reverse pedal and returned to the way where she first came, hoping none of those agents could realized that was her car.

————

I let out a frustrated scream as i went as far as the gas pedal would allow me to in this godforsaken traffic, my mind race back to the campus that was swarmed with Agents, to other people that might blend in like college kids— but not to me, the earpiece their glasses, and years of hiding from them has taught me well.

“Fucking Adams!” I punched the steering wheel when the red clouded my vision, my knuckles all bruised and my hair out of place. This is not how its supposed to go, i was supposed to be Y/A/N not the Y/N who cat claimed to be an assassin. She could still control my life even from underneath her grave, i chuckled as i sped up down the highway to the one place i could release all of my anger at.

As soon as i reached Cat and I’s old place, i can’t help but to tear the whole place down, smashing every piece of furniture i could lay my eyes and hands on, screaming on top of my lungs and let myself be numb to the pain of the sharp glass nick and slice through my skin.

After i’m sure there’s nothing left to break, i sat on my knees— feeling the hardwood floors dig through my skin and cried as loud as i can. “You fucking bitch, stop destroying my fucking life!”

“Y/N Y/l/N put your hands on the air and hand us your weapon!”

——————

Taglist is open! just message me or leave me an ask!

upcoming fics : the artist and his muse (vii), and few requests that i’m working on.

Thank you for your patience for the past few days, hopefully things will get better soon and i can be more productive!❤️

#criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid angst #dom!spencer #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #unsub!reader #professor!spencer

[lunaflower]

Six of Crows AU (dsmp)

In which c! Wilbur, c!Jack Manifold, c!Tubbo, c!Techno, c!Ranboo and c!Tommy are the crows (uhh spoilers for six of crows btw)

Wilbur (Kaz): the leader of the crows, oldest member of the Dregs out of the 6 of them and mastermind of all the plans. Has the iconic Kaz cane. Gets offered a one in a lifetime offer by none other than Dream, one of the richest merchants in Ketterdam (Jan Van Eck). Dream wants him to infiltrate the Ice Court in Fjerda and bring him the Grisha that created jurda parem, a highly addictive and debilitating drug that enhances grisha's abilities. Has a huge soft spot for Tubbo and Tommy but refuses to admit it.

Jack (Jesper): has known Wilbur the longest. He's the best sharpshooter the Dregs have but, unlike Jesper, he's not a Grisha. That's just all pure Jack Manifold talent, because it's Jack Manifold. However, he maintains Jesper's gambling addiction. Suspects from the beggining there’s something up with Tommy and, because he knows Wilbur so well, he’s aware Wilbur is probably actively hiding it from the rest of them. It pisses him off, making him kinda hostile towards Tommy at first.

Tubbo (Inej): was sold to a show house in Ketterdam when he was young to be a cleaning boy. His tiny stature and ability to go by unnoticed make him the perfect spy. And Wilbur recognized that back then and ended up buying off his indenture so he could work for the Dregs. Was tasked with keeping an eye on Tommy before the heist. Visits Ranboo regularly, even though Wilbur told him not to get too close. Looks up to Wilbur a lot, especially since he was the one to save him.

Ranboo (Nina): Heartrender (works at one of those houses where they calm the costumers and remove negative emotions and all that) and some Tailor abilities (naturally looks like irl Ranboo but tailors himself to have black hair and dual-colored green and red eyes). Just like in the books, was captured by druskelle, which led to him making and losing a friend, ending up in Ketterdam. Kinda swore off his more uh...violent powers after a nasty incident where some people may or may not have ended up dead, but then Wilbur needed him for the job and oh well (enter morality conflict here).

Techno (Matthias): pretty much the same as the books. He's the druskelle that helped Ranboo escape and became friends with, before Ranboo got him arrested in the worst prison in Ketterdam (it was to save him, but Techno doesn't know this). Does not want to be here, but will anyway because he wants to get out of Hellgate more and, sadly for him, Wilbur is his ticket out. Has a particularly nasty attitude towards Ranboo (because backstory).

Tommy (Wylan): demolition's expert, except, he's the secret Grisha instead of Jack (at first Wilbur and Tubbo are the only ones who know). Second plot twist that isn't really a plot twist: he's Dream's "charge". Dream picked him up off the streets when he was a little kid because he knew he was Grisha and wanted to train him and use him to his advantage (being c!dream I think you know how good of a time c!Tommy had). He's a Fabrikator, but Dream kinda wanted him to use his abilities in a more agressive/fighting style, so that's how he rolls mainly. After meeting the crows, he starts learning how to use his abilities to actually create things (aka starts healing) and eventually makes Wilbur a new cane.

BONUS!

Fundy is Kuwei, aka the Grisha they end up rescuing from the Ice Court

Philza is the boss of the Dregs, he took Wilbur in and advocates for him a lot, since the rest of the gang kinda dislikes him

Schlatt is pretty much Pekka Rollins. Quackity is his second in command, but he's secretly working with Wilbur to take him out

Eret is Nikolai aka the king of Ravka, Puffy is Zoya (a Squaller) and Niki is Genya (a Tailor)

George is Alys Van Eck (but in a non shippy way, every relationship in this au is platonic, so basicaly he’s just a friend of Dream´s), because I think that is funny

#dream smp #Dsmp #Dsmp au #Dsmpblr #Dsmp soc au #dream smp au #Tommyinnit #Wilbur soot #Tubbo #Jack manifold #Ranboo #Technoblade #Sbi aren't family btw #Only the found type but that's all of them #luna posts #Text #If any of you want more context on six of crows feel free to ask its a really good book :)

[thatsadbietch]

A War Hero’s Cry (Persona 5/Royal)

Warning for some possible spoilers.  Nothing super important to the main plot but still, here’s the warning!

A/N: This is my very first P5 piece, I’m excited to share it! I love writing and want to get better at it, so I’m very open to suggestions or comments!

Warning for mild cursing.

Ships: None

Word count: 2,455

---

These were the types of mornings that kept him going.  The mornings where he didn’t have to shuttle into a cramped subway, only to arrive at his destination and listen to lectures about various topics on which he’d studied before.  It was also a time between targets, to play it safe and just wait for another shitty adult to show their true colors so their Palace and Treasure can be claimed by the Phantom Thieves.

These mornings, where Ren could enjoy the peace and tranquility that came with a skillfully made cup of coffee, the smell of curry preparation for the day’s customers, and the sound of Sojiro humming while he worked.  These mornings are where he draws that cool and collected mentality required to be the leader of such a talented group of thieves.

He inhaled, taking in all the sensations around him, but was slightly startled by the sound of the bell’s chime, signaling a customer.  Perplexed, as the store hadn’t opened yet, he turned to find Futaba wondering into the café.  He exhaled and grinned, able to tell right away she’d just woken up: her amber-orange hair was still disheveled from sleep and her eyes were still drowsy looking. Not to mention she strolled in with her slippers and a pair of plush-looking pajama pants, black with green stars printed on them.  They suited her.

She slumped up on the stool next to Ren and yawned in place of her usual loud and energetic “Good Morning!” while she rested her head on the bar.

“Well,” Sojiro started, not bothering to hold back a chuckle at the scene, “Look who’s decided to join us among the living.” Though teasing, there was a type of sincerity there that gave away the warmness he felt for his adopted daughter.  She groaned groggily in response, pulling her hood up over her head and face.

“Long night?” Ren asked casually.  He enjoyed Futaba’s company regardless; he’d grown fond of her quirks and eccentric nature, and became something of an older brother figure to her.  But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful that she was still calm and quiet at the moment.

“Mmmhmm…” she groaned in response.  Ren nodded and took a sip of his coffee, counting down mentally, “Three…two…one…” Sure enough, on “one” Futaba lifted her head, hood still lazily hanging onto the top, and she began to explain.

“Well last night I got bored, so I started browsing the Phan-site and looking around for potential targets and was trying to find out more about the mental shutdowns, but then I got a Discuss app notification from my Herd of Heroes team asking if I wanted to help them in a tournament.  Of course, I couldn’t just leave them, my strategy and expertise are the backbone of the team! So…”

Ren and Sojiro shared a knowing smirk.  Classic Futaba.  Sojiro shook his head in mock exasperation.

“Staying up all night isn’t healthy, you know,” Ren began, “You ought to think about fixing your sleep schedule.  For your sake and for your teammates, both on and offline.  Are you listening?” He asked, poking her side to make sure he had her attention.  But now she had his and Sojiro’s, as neither expected the high-pitched squeak she made.

Ren chuckled and raised an eyebrow.  “What was that?”

Futaba looked a lot more awake, now that her eyes were widened, almost panicked.  “N-Nothing! You just startled me, that’s all.  Don’t you know its rude to pick on people, especially when they’ve just conquered ten different Herds of Heroes? I’m a war hero!”

“You’re also a pain sometimes,” Ren teased, poking at her again and eliciting the same sound.

“Ren, quit it!” Futaba whined, wrapping her arms around her sides for protection.  But she was so preoccupied dealing with Ren’s antics, she didn’t notice Sojiro make his way around the bar and behind her stool, placing his hands threateningly on her sides.  She was already trying to hold back the titters that began bubbling up.

“Futaba, you’ve been kept up in your room so long, I forgot you were ticklish,” Sojiro started, swiftly willing his wiggling fingers up and down her sides. She couldn’t offer much resistance as she immediately burst out in giggles and tried to grab for his wrists.

“NOOHOHO, SOHOHJIROOHOHO!” Futaba whined, not being able to say much else. She helplessly cackled and tried to push his hands away, doing an awful lot of squirming in the process.

“I remember your mom telling me she’d chase you around the house sometimes,” he recalled.  While telling his story he wrapped his arms around her middle and held her back against is chest, both to better trap her in his ticklish hold and to ensure she didn’t fall off the stool.  Using this new leverage, he scurried lightly over her small belly and belly button, causing a shriek, another noise neither had heard from her.  Ren figured his peaceful morning was over at this point and just embraced the silly nature the room had adopted.

“SOHOOHOJIEHEROOHOO DOOHOHON’T!! BWAHAHA!” She continued to cackle and writhe while he nonchalantly continued his story. Ren could tell Sojiro was rather enjoying his position right now.

“You’d ask her to play so many times in a day, and when you wouldn’t let up she’d run around the house with you until she finally caught you. Then… she’d get you!” he finished, adopting a slightly more sinister tone for emphasis as he quickly shot his fingers up to the poor child’s underarms, switching rapidly from fluttering teasingly and vibrating his fingertips there. She jumped and squealed, but was unable to do much else in his hold.

“NOHAHAT THEERAAHEHEHAA! SOJIEHEEHAHA!” Futaba couldn’t even beg properly anymore as she threw her head back onto his shoulder, trying desperately to squirm her way out of his grip. “D’you have a strategy for getting out of this one, war hero?” Sojiro teased, causing a deeper blush on Futaba’s already reddened face.

“SOOOHOHOJEEEOROO, I CAHAHN’T!!” Not long after that did Sojiro let up, but held her still for a beat or two.  Again, to make sure she didn’t fall.  Futaba breathed rapidly and leaned back on Sojiro, who will never admit how much his heart swelled at the act. He chuckled again and released the child, ruffling her already messy hair.

Ren wasn’t quite sure what to do besides sit on the sidelines and watch the commotion unfold.  His own parents, while supportive and caring, were never really physically affectionate toward him. He couldn’t recall if he even was ticklish.  But he chuckled contently.  “So, about being a war hero…”

“YOU! Don’t even say anything! YOU started it and DIDN’T BOTHER TO HELP ME! Some leader you are!” Futaba exclaimed, clearly regaining her energy as she stood quickly and drilled quick and relentless pokes to his sides.  She’d only expected to get her point across but was so much more pleased when Ren sharply inhaled and flailed to keep her hands away from him.  Well, that answered his question.

“Mwehehehe… Perfect!” She snickered evilly.  Ren jumped back from his stool and realized he was cornered: Futaba stood between him and the front door, and the increasingly mischievous glare from Sojiro wasn’t at all comforting—it was clear he had no intention of helping Ren out of this.

Suddenly, the Phantom Thief leader did the unexpected: turned and fled up the stairs.

“HEY! Get back here, coward!” Futaba called after him, but wasn’t as fast, especially since Ren could easily climb two stairs at a time.

“I might be able to maneuver my way back down the stairs and out the door,” he thought, being sure to give himself some space as Futaba reached his room. Though he had the upper hand in skill, Futaba looked determined, almost as much as when she’s in a Palace.

“I’ll show you a war hero!” she declared, and lunged for the teen, who dodged her with relative ease. But it happened quickly: one minute he had a clear path to the stairs, and the next he was turned around with his arms pinned to his back.  Sojiro chuckled.

“I didn’t think the leader would be so predictable, but Futaba read you like a book.  I bet her team would be lost without her,” he commented.  “And don’t look so surprised.  I used to be with the Feds, remember? Catching runners just comes with the territory.” Ren swore there was some giddiness in Sojiro’s voice, he must be having fun with this. But the boy didn’t struggle against him.  In wit and leadership, Ren might have the upper hand. And he was strong, too, from all the training with Ryuji and previous missions. But in pure manpower, and given the position we was in, he hadn’t a chance against Sojiro.

“Hey, you’re being awful quiet for someone who just got captured,” Futaba remarked, getting Ren out of his head and back to the moment; the moment Sojiro lightheartedly pushed the boy onto his couch so Futaba could pounce and begin her ticklish assault, starting strong by pushing up the hem of his shirt and scurrying her fingers on his bare stomach.  Ren gritted his teeth, trying not to let out the giggles that were bubbling up. He went to grab at her wrists, only for Sojiro to grab his first and pin them over his head, allowing the redheaded tech-wiz full access to his torso.

“Damnhihit!” Ren muttered, trying to break Sojiro’s grip.

“Was that a laugh, mighty leader?” Futaba teased, sticking one wiggling finger in his belly button.  Ren inhaled sharply again and arched his back reflexively, ironically giving Futaba better access to the sensitive area.  But he shook his head violently and groaned to cover any indication of escaped giggles.

“Yeah, THAT’S convincing,” Futaba said with an eye roll, changing tactics by pinching along his sides until she reached his ribs.  The moment her fingers swiped along his bottom ribs, he twisted and struggled, trying desperately to throw her off of him.  But with her straddling his thighs and Sojiro holding his arms, that was not going to be an easy feat.  

“Well? Was it a laugh? Is the feared leader of the Phantom Thieves ticklish?”

“Doohoohn’t Futaba!” He muttered, unable to keep his giggling completely at bay anymore while he felt his face heat up in forming a blush.

“Now I think that was a laugh,” Sojiro teased, encouraging Futaba to go in for the kill.

“Dahahamit, let mehehe go, old maahan!”  Ren said.  Out loud. He did not mean to say that out loud.  He was trying so hard not to laugh that he didn’t (or rather, couldn’t) think, and the words just fell out.  Futaba stopped tickling and both children looked to Sojiro.  He just looked blankly at Ren, and took both his wrists into one hand.

“Oh ho, you’re about to get wrecked!” Futaba exclaimed giddily, waiting for Sojiro’s move.

“Sir, I didn’t mean that, I’m sorrEHEHEEHHEE! NOOHOHHOHAAHAHA!!”  With his free hand, Sojiro curled and wriggled his fingers into the teen’s rib cage, and the dam holding back Ren’s giggles burst into a loud, unhindered belly laugh. Neither Futaba nor Sojiro had ever heard their quiet and composed LeBlanc tenant laugh, not like this, and they both chuckled: it seemed it was contagious.

“S-STOOHOHOP LAHAHUGHING AT M-MMEEEHEHE! AHH! HAHAHA!” He begged, and screeched in surprise when he felt Futaba pinch and scratch his bottommost ribs on the side that Sojiro wasn’t absolutely tormenting.  

Sojiro switched up his methods a bit, now vibrating his fingertips in the space between Ren’s ribs and underarms, earning another shriek. “I can’t believe this guy is the one everyone’s fussing over.  He looks pretty harmless to me!” The caregiver taunted.  Ren shook his head, as if fighting the ever-darkening redness from appearing on his cheeks.

“So our fearless leader can be taken down with a couple good tickles, I see. Mwehehe, wait until I tell the others~” Futaba teased, and raked her nails from his ribs down his sides, and scurried them haphazardly all over his bare belly. Ren threw his head back in renewed cackles, his heels digging into the couch behind the sadistic girl.

“NOOHOO, DOHOHOHON’T T-TELL TH-THEEHEHEM! AHAHACK! SOJIHEHERO, I CAAHAHN’T AHAHA!” Ren begged as his guardian released his wrists, only to quickly attack the hollows of his underarms, kneading and vibrating in the region, and making the raven-haired boy go into hysterics, if he wasn’t already. He clamped his arms down quickly, trapping Sojiro’s hands.

“Well now my hands are stuck here.  I guess I’d better make the most of it,” he taunted further, snickering at the continuous stream of boyish laugher he was eliciting from the usually stoic kid.

“DOHOHN’T TEHEHEASE MEEHEEHE, PLEEHEEASE, NOOHOHOHO!”

“Oh, now he’s learned some manners!” Sojiro responded spiritedly. Futaba relented finally, figuring her request for revenge had been satisfied. Plus, Ren looked like he could use a little mercy right now.

“Ya know, you look kinda cute like this! Maybe if I can get a picture, or a video!-”

“DOHON’T YOU DAHAHARE!”

“I know they would enjoy this dirt I’ve got on you!”

“IHEHE’LL EHEHEND YOOHOHOU!”

“Ya know,” Sojiro started, “you aren’t in any place to be making threats. Or to be calling me old, only I can do that.”

“I SAIHEHED I’M SORRYEHEHE!” Ren spat out, his laughter starting to go silent. Sojiro chuckled again and finally released the teen from his grip.  They watched as Ren greedily gasped for air and rubbed his eyes to find he’d been crying mirthful tears.

“I guess I’m sorry too, I think I got carried away there.  You all right?” Sojiro asked, motioning for Futaba to get off of his legs.  He nodded, still breathing heavily, but starting steadying.

“Futaba was right, you are kinda cute like that,” Sojiro teased, and the teen covered his faced and groaned, followed by a muffled “I am NOT.”

“Don’t go pouting, you’re still in a pretty vulnerable position,” Sojiro replied, offering a quick poke to his side, causing a jolt and a lighter giggle. The guardian looked at his watch and sighed.

“Great, Ren, you made me late for opening up shop,” he muttered, but there was no malice behind it.

“Oh yeah, gotta open the doors for your daily swarm of customers,” Futaba commented half-heartedly.

“Hey! I have my morning regulars, young lady.” Sojiro retorted. “You need to watch your tone.  You saw what happened to the last guy that had something smart to say.”  Ren groaned, and finally sat up, looking at the other two people occupying his room.  He watched them continue their argument as he shook his head in exasperation with a grin.

#persona 5 #ren amamiya #akira kusuru #futaba sakura #tickle fic #fluff #sojiro sakura #sojiro is best dad #lee!amamiya #phantom thieves #tickling

[duraxxor]

Character Sheet: That Damn Trio

Uh oh, it would seem Duraxxor has gotten himself in a lot of trouble this time around! He’s been split into three pieces of his former self! Oh the humanity! Well there’s only one thing to do. What’s that? Well, we go on a wild adventure to put him back together, of course! That’s why I have decided to create character sheet to explain and every one of the fragments and their traits. So without further interruptions, let’s get down to the material! 

Character No. 1

Name: Daev  ( Pronounced just like Dave ) 

Race: Sin’dorei?

Height: 5′ 8″ ( down from the 6′ 4″ that he once stood at. )

Hair Color: Silver Blonde

Eye Color: None, his eyes are as clear as glass

Age:  “ I was only born not that long ago... I jest though... “ 

Physical Traits: When a person comes in contact with Daev, the first thing they may notice as his youthful appearance. Unlike Duraxxor as a whole, Daev has the physical body of a young adult that has suffered from lack of muscle. Despite this, he seems able to stand straight and maintain himself but is unable to physically apply the strength and running speed he once had. The scar that once dominated his features is now shrunken down and appears to have lining that almost reminds some of a stitching, so to speak. Perhaps even mending? The same can be said about the majority of his black attire that decorates his body other than the sleeve that appears to have torn on the right side. A thin trench coat and a pair of black leather britches that are only matched by a pair of boots below. One can also notice the pair of snake bites piercing on his lower lip that seem to have appeared as he no longer bears even a semblance of the elven fangs gene. 

Personality: Quiet and probably the most balanced of his former self. Daev seems to be given the nickname of being the Heart of the Trio. And with good reason considering he is probably the very being that keeps the other two in existence. He is never to quickly jump to violence and seeks to see how people function and feel. Selfless thought and under normal circumstances, kind to those that share a mutual respect for him and his space. Although he is the most attuned to multiple emotions, he has a hard time properly expressing them and it may even come out in a series of riddles. However, he does seem to have something to say for every type of person. 

Abilities: Lack of physical strength, Daev has to rely on his mind and quick thinking if he hopes to manage avoiding being killed off with the help of his familiars. It isn’t known whether he retains much of his weaponry training, other than having a dagger tucked away under his coat that appears to have a significance, or perhaps even symbolic value. Despite his familiars having their own personalities, he seems able to maintain control of them in certain moments and can even call them or dismiss them at will. Daev’s greatest ability is that he has so much untapped potential that is it unpredicted what he may learn in his stay within the Shadowlands. 

Character No. 2 

Name: Randdu ( Ron-doo ) 

Race: Familiar ( Bat ) 

Height: Unspecified, look to his Abilities for details

Hair Color: White

Eye Color: A mixture of Red and Yellow

Age: “ Look, man, give me a break. I only look old. “ 

Physical Traits: You feel a piercing gaze always watching you when you approach Daev with his avian shadow, Randdu. He takes on the appearance of most bats native to Azeroth aside from some defined features that make him appear more like a Fruit Bat from our world, bearing a canine-like snout beneath the leathery wraps that are his lengthy wings. Jagged claws appear to be on both the back legs and wing joints, giving him almost the look a humanoid if not for the fact he lacks thumbs. He is the definition of wild animal with personality. 

Personality: The reckless familiar that is highly regarded ( and prideful of himself ) as the symbol of Duraxxor. Randdu is also the loudest and most immature of the trio. He would rather pick a fight and see who is the strongest than listen to negotiations. He also possesses quite the appetite match this need for combat. However, this doesn’t mean he isn’t self aware when he is in over his head, being the quickest to also panic when he feels outmatched, that is until something goes right, then he will simply mock his foe. Warning: He may curse a lot. 

Abilities: Despite his reckless personality, Randdu is actually quite the powerhouse. He is physically strong and can easily pick up something that is three times his own size, which is only matched by the fact that he is able to grow and shrink his form based on the energy reserves he has obtained through his vampiric aura. The more he fights and succeeds, the stronger Randdu gets. Claws, teeth, and even a mind piercing screech are at his disposal. However, the magical affinity seems to lie more so in the fact he is able to cast a blaze of shadows about his form, giving him enough speed to perform a Wraith Flight, an ability that projects his vampiric aura outward and making mere contact results in the sapping of one’s raw energies. 

Character No. 3 

Name: Sphula ( Sph-ooluh ) 

Race: Familiar ( Serpent ) 

Height: 15′ 07″ in length 

Hair Color: “ Crimson Scales, you uneducated pig. “ 

Eye Color: Onyx 

Age: “ To old for you to know. “ 

Physical Traits: While Randdu is regarded to be the visible lurker, Sphula sticks to remaining hidden into his time is most appropriate. The lengthy serpent bears a strange familiarity to the Arcane Serpents of Northrend, but with many more rows of teeth and definitive fangs. He also lacks the ethereal skin until certain abilities are applied. Scales, bladed fings, and circular markings that are akin to chains, this crimson familiar seems to be the most colorful of the trio. 

Personality: Calm until provoked, Sphula recognizes his own intellect and will exercise it when it is most necessary. More often than naught, he is seen wrapped around Daev, whispering into his ear while chastising Randdu. For once to gain conference with Sphula would mean that you either have earned his respect or there is something of worth about you or upon you that he would sooner have you align yourself to their cause. Unlike the other trio, Sphula is not above breaking the rules in his favor. For he believes logic is more important in the case of survivability in the cruel world of a snake. There is one he deems the most worthy of his time: The Lady in the Red @sanguinesorceress​ . 

Abilities:  Not as physically strong as Randdu, Sphula is also a constrictor and has no issue wrapping his long tail around his foes or even applying it in a flailing motion to dispatch someone from approaching Daev. And speaking of which, did you know that snakes can actually jump three times their length? Not just this one, but he can also slip his entire length through objects much like a pocket space just to come out in a near forty yard radius. Sphula is also the strongest when it comes to the use of magic and intellect. He is able to conjure geomancy, hemomancy, umbramancy, and in some cases, cryomancy and pyromancy. But what would a snake be without his bite? Twin fangs possess a potent cytotoxin, which is a toxin that induces tissue necrosis. Keep your hands away from this snakes mouth!

OOC Information Station 

Rp Style:  When interacting with this blog or even the in-game character, I cannot always guarantee that you will interact with all three of them, just as I also cannot guarantee that one of the other’s won’t squeeze themselves into the RP. Otherwise, I am generally laid back and always up to most themes, including the dark and twisted. I am an adult writer and in most cases, I am not so easily triggered and easy to speak with. Please, don’t hesitate to ask questions as I may have an actual answer for them. I also would like to remind everyone that I have been roleplaying in World of Warcraft for nearly ten years. All I ever ask is your undying patience and kindness in return. 

Platforms: Tumblr, Discord, and In-game (Planned) 

If you have made it this far, congratulations. Now to get to the nitty, gritty disclaimer warnings and rules.

1. Roleplaying with The Trio means you have agreed to not knowing the original character Duraxxor is the true identity of these characters without the proper knowledge or permission. Should you regard him as Duraxxor, Alphus, Lord Daevara, Myotis, or any other former alias, it will be ignored in-character. Should this become a continuing habit, I will ask you personally to please stop trying to ruin the mystery of the characters. Let’s make this a fun plot for all, old and new. 

2. If you are seeking to fix the problem as quick as possible, then you have come to the wrong player. I am wanting this particular plot device to go longer than a few weeks or even months as the Shadowlands is going to obviously take longer than a single year itself. There’s going to be hurdles to make evolve these characters over time. You are welcome to speak about being a part of the plot where he attempts to fix himself though!

3. When addressing particular character questions, please specify who you are addressing to unless it is all the above or the mun. This makes my life so much easier and more engaging. 

4. Do not god mod my characters as I would not god mod yours. All of them have their own individual strengths and weaknesses and should be considered only through natural interaction. 

5. More importantly, be respectful and patient. This is a brand new concept I am playing with and I really wish to see it through to the very end and want those involved to have fun. 

Thank you all for taking the time to read this and I do hope that everything is clear! I look forward to roleplaying with everyone and enjoying the Shadowlands storyline! Happy Writing everyone! 

And if you have not read Chapter 1 to the Shadowlands storyline, here is a link to the story is here

#character sheet #That Damn Trio #Daev #Randdu #Sphula #shadowlands

[cherry-valentine]

Fall 2020 Anime Season:

Golden Kamuy Season 3 is, so far, just as good as the first two seasons. For anyone unfamiliar with the show, it follows a former soldier called “Immortal Sugimoto” (nicknamed so for his tendency to survive a lot of shit that would kill most people) and a young Ainu (the Japanese equivalent of Native Americans) girl as they search Northern Japan (and even parts of Russia) for hidden Ainu gold. The story is pretty wild, with threats coming from the wildlife and the harsh, snowy conditions as often as from mercenaries, assassins, and various other human dangers. The cast has expanded enough that we have several separate groups of cool, well-written characters roaming about (and they’ve shuffled a bit from season two, making their interactions very interesting). Sugimoto remains one of my favorite anime protagonists. He’s one of the more brutal, violent main characters I’ve seen, but, strangely, also one of the nicest. He’s kind to innocents (both people and animals) but will slaughter his enemies without hesitation. He’s also pretty funny. Then again, almost every character is subject to the show’s weird but endearing humor. It’s very hard to dislike any character, even the ones who are quite cruel. The show is also notable for having a lot of homoerotic subtext. The beefy, handsome men sure do love taking their clothes off and wrestling. Like, taking it ALL off. Multiple times per season. Yeah. Watch this show, everybody.

Ikebukuro West Gate Park is a new show this season that I was initially interested in because it reminded me of Durarara!! in that it’s set in Ikebukuro and features color gangs. That’s where the similarities end, however. Whereas Durarara!! had tons of supernatural elements and just plain craziness, IWGP is more realistic by comparison. The show follows Makoto, a seemingly normal guy who seems to function in a sort of “odd jobs” type of role for a color gang called the G Boys. While they’re a gang, they don’t seem like criminals or thugs, or even delinquents. They really feel more like a club, held together by their respect for the leader referred to as King. So far the series seems to be episodic in nature, with most stand-alone episodes focusing on some sort of social issue, from drug addiction to immigration. It’s interesting to see these issues presented in such a sympathetic light, viewed through the lens of Tokyo’s youth. The art is nice, with varied character designs and animation that’s just good enough that you don’t notice the problems very often. The music is a highlight, with my favorite opening theme of the season and one of the better ending themes.

Magatsu Wahrheit is a show I was very iffy on at first. It has a lot of things working against it. It’s based on a video game I’ve never heard of, the opening theme is one of the cheapest, most unimpressive things I’ve ever seen (note: it does improve a few episodes in!), and the series overall has a low budget feel (though nowhere near as bad as Gibiate from last season). But the story is actually very interesting and very well written. The basic premise is that Young Man A (I’m not remembering these weird names, sorry) works as a delivery truck driver in your usual “modern fantasy” setting (kingdoms and monsters and other medieval fantasy trappings alongside trucks and cars and advanced science laboratories). When he’s loading up his deliveries, Young Man B, a fresh recruit in the kingdom’s military and general goody-two-shoes, randomly offers to help Young Man A load his truck. Young Man B spots some boxes off to the side and, assuming they were part of the load, puts them into the truck while Young Man A is talking to his boss. These boxes turn out to be illegal weapons being smuggled by a group of... freedom fighters? I guess? This, in turn, drags Young Man A into a shit storm of trouble when the illegal weapons are discovered in his truck. It also leads directly to tragedy for Young Man B as well, setting them both on wildly different but similarly dangerous paths. The whole idea that a simple act of kindness for a stranger sets off such a terrible series of events is pretty engaging. As it stands in the show right now, Young Man A is the more compelling character. He’s just a truck driver. He’s a coward who runs from danger and wants no part of any of this. But at the same time, he can be surprisingly brave at times (usually when a child is in danger). In a twist on the usual trope, these spurts of bravery are rarely rewarded. At least twice, his decision to act has led to heartbreaking tragedy. So far Young Man B is your typical “idealistic youth realizing the military isn’t comprised entirely of nice people” type of character. As such, he’s just not as interesting. He hasn’t had as much screen time though, so hopefully he’ll grow as a character. I guess it says a lot that I’ve written so much about the show, and almost all of it is about the plot. But the plot is really the only remarkable thing about it. In this case, that’s enough.

Higurashi no Naku Koro ni is, well, a bit of a trainwreck. And I’m not necessarily talking about the quality of the show. Let me explain: The show was marketed as a remake of the 2006 anime, which was one of my all-time favorite series. I was pretty excited about it. Lots of new fans who had never watched the original started this one. The first episode was okay. I wasn’t crazy about how shiny everything looked (I realize the original’s visuals are a bit dated now but at least they were unique, this new one looks like pretty much every harem anime from the past five years) but the story seemed to be doing good and I looooooved the use of the original opening theme song as the closer. Then episode two dropped, and the fandom basically exploded. The first few minutes of episode two reveal that this is not a remake, but a sequel! Shock! At first, I was impressed by this little bit of manipulation. It felt exciting to realize the truth. But then it dawned on me (and the rest of the fandom) that new viewers who came to watch this were screwed over. Those first few minutes of episode two spoil some very important things from the original series (we’re talking major spoilers here), and it’s going to ruin a lot of plot points for those who never watched the original and now want to go back and watch it first. So here’s a PSA: If you’re new to Higurashi and want to try this new series, DON’T unless you’re okay with watching a sequel that spoils the original.

Okay, so now let’s talk about this new series/sequel. First, the good points: The ending theme is GORGEOUS. Just... go watch it. Soak it up. The opening isn’t bad but I can’t help comparing it to the far superior original opening. Aside from the overly shiny and generic character designs, the rest of the visuals are pretty great. The scenery in particular is very nice. In terms of story, I like the idea of beginning each new “arc” by staying close to the original story, then throwing in some pretty wild deviations that make them end in completely different ways because a character that lived through the original is trying to make subtle changes (that so far have ended up turning out very badly). When it comes to the bad points, one in particular sticks out: It’s not scary! The original had some truly unsettling moments, and so far this one hasn’t even been creepy. It’s had some moments that obviously tried to be scary but have failed miserably. For example, the early scenes with Rena in the original were actually terrifying. But I felt none of the intensity or creepiness in this sequel. Still, it’s nice to see these characters again and to see how this story deviates as someone tries desperately to change the outcomes.

Haikyuu!! has another new season and... I don’t really know what to say about it. I’ve talked about this show several times now. Looks like this season is going to focus primarily on one long match, a concept I’m not crazy about. They also made the baffling decision to cut in with a full episode about a rival team’s match right in the middle of showing the match with the main team. I mean I love seeing more of the rival teams but it felt disjointed to do it this way. Still yet, it’s a fun and energetic show full of great characters and easily understood volley ball matches.

Jujutsu Kaisen is probably the most hyped up new show this season, and I would say it definitely deserves that hype. It’s a pretty familiar shounen fighting anime setup: A teenage boy acquires special powers and joins a school to train so that he can use those powers for good. However, following that formula does little to negate just how fun and well-done this series is. A lot of people have compared it to Naruto (the protagonist is a vessel for a powerful entity, he joins a trio of characters with a more serious and moody black-haired boy and a chick, and they have a badass teacher with silver hair who keeps his face partially covered). So sure, it’s like Naruto... except it’s much better than Naruto in every conceivable way. The animation and fight choreography are consistently fantastic. The main character is not the least bit annoying. The only chick in the group (there are more cool ladies in the story, just not in this group!) is a badass in her own right and her story and motivations have absolutely nothing to do with romantic interest in any of the guys. Even the teacher character is incredibly fun. The music is great, with my favorite ending theme of the season. You know it’s an excellent ending theme when people start making different versions of it using characters from other shows. It’s so, well, fun. A word I keep using here, because that’s the first word that comes to mind when I’m watching this series.

Talentless Nana is one of those shows that’s going to be difficult for me to talk about without spoiling a very cool surprise. This surprise comes at the end of episode one (basically, the show makes you think it’s about something, but turns out it’s about something completely different). So if you want to really enjoy that surprise, stop reading this and go watch episode one before coming back. If you’ve already watched it or don’t mind having the surprise spoiled, here we go: The first episode sets up the series to be a cheap Boku no Hero Academia knock-off. We have a school of “talented” (super powered) kids training to use their powers to save humanity from (so far) unseen monsters referred to as “the enemies of humanity”. We are told one boy has no “talent” or special power and he’s ridiculed for this. There’s a new transfer student named Nana, a super sweet and cheerful girl with pink hair who has the ability to read minds. There’s also another transfer student, a sullen and quiet boy named Kyouya who hasn’t disclosed what his “talent” is. With that setup, I think a lot of people were ready to dismiss it as “BNHA, but not as good”. But then, a few minutes before the first episode ends, we’re hit with the twist that reveals what this show is really about: Nana is the one with no “talent”. She lied about being able to read minds (the boy we thought had no talent did actually have one). She’s a totally normal human being, and she has been sent to infiltrate the school and kill off the students, the true “enemies of humanity” (called so because their powers make them incredibly dangerous). Thus, the show is about a normal human girl using only her wits and skill in manipulation to kill off super-powered individuals. Watching her work is an absolute delight. She is ruthless and incredibly intelligent, but she does have one major problem: the other transfer student Kyouya, who is at least as smart as she is and is suspicious of her right off the bat. But since he’s not sure she’s up to no good, he can’t really act on his suspicions. Nana in turn knows he suspects her, so she has to be careful around him. As a result, the two become “friends”, constantly watching and outmaneuvering each other. In this way, the series reminds me of the early, best parts of Death Note, with the mental sparring between Light and L. But the most fun you’ll have with this show is watching Nana come up with ways to deal with each new “talent” she comes across, from the ability to time travel to necromancy, all while having no special power of her own. The art is nice, a bit generic, nothing too fancy. The music is great, with one of the better opening themes this season.

Moriarty the Patriot focuses on the classic Sherlock antagonist Professor Moriarty. Let me get this out of the way first: I know next to nothing about Sherlock. I haven’t even watched any of the various tv shows about him. What I know of the character basically comes from mentions of him in Detective Conan. So I’m coming into this series with no preconceived notions about these characters and no other versions to compare them to. Anyway, Moriarty as a series is about class warfare. Moriarty as a character pretty much embodies the phrase “eat the rich”. If you’re familiar with the phrase and understand its meaning, you’ll probably like this show. Moriarty works as a professor, but his side job is as a “Crime Consultant”. He helps the poor lower classes get revenge on the cruel nobles and elites who have wronged them. This revenge most often involves murder. There’s something refreshing about how unapologetic it is. In most anime, the hero tries to find other ways to punish evil than by actually killing them, or there’s some lesson involved about how revenge isn’t the answer or how killing someone who wronged you makes you as bad as them. In this series, there’s absolutely none of that. People get their revenge and, so far as I’ve watched, seem to be living much happier lives afterwards. In this way the show totally avoids being preachy. The art is gorgeous, with classy character designs and lovely backgrounds. There’s a certain lushness to it. The music is very nice as well (particularly that poppy ending theme). The only downside is that this has probably ruined me for watching other versions of these characters now. I mean, once you see them as sexy anime pretty boys, it’s hard to see them as anything else.

Carry Over Shows From Previous Seasons:

Black Clover

Best of Season:

Best New Show: Jujutsu Kaisen

Best Opening Theme: Ikebukuro West Gate Park

Best Ending Theme: Jujutsu Kaisen

Best New Male Character: Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot)

Best New Female Character: Nana (Talentless Nana)

#anime reviews #seasonal anime #fall 2020 anime #anime recommendations #text #jujutsu kaisen #moriarty the patriot #munou na nana #ikebukuro west gate park

[halfwall]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❪ ⠀   * ⠀ ─          hello!  i’m  so  excited  for  this  genuinely,  it  is  so  seksi  and  socks  +  soda  did  such  an  amazing  job  with  it.  eunjung  is  my  newest  muse  and  the  best  way  i  can  describe  her  is  if  you  took  a  garden  snake  and  aged  it  up  manually  in  the  sims  and  then  took  it  into  the  spore  game  and  gave  it  lips  and  made  it  a  predator.  in  other  words,  my  very  own  looks  like  a  cinnamon  roll  could  k-word  you  (  kiss?  kill?  your  choice  <3  ).  this  intro  is  a  condensed  version  of  my  goog  dooc  and  it’s  still  long  <3  pls  love  n  plot  w  me  anyway.  love  u  guys.

❪  kang  mina,  cis  woman,  she  /  her,  twenty  one.  ❫    i  can  feel  red  energy,  that  must  be  yun  eunjung.  the  third  year  print  journalism  &  international  relations  major  works  as  a  bookkeeper  at  the  house  of  the  lucky  gander,  and  is  known  around  the  manor  as  the  yellow  wallpaper.  i’ve  heard  whispers  about  how  they’re  critical  and  pedantic,  but  everyone  says  they’re  persevering  and  formidable.  i  don’t  know  what  to  believe...  but  with  cc  pulling  the  strings...

links:    google  doc,  pinterest,  stats,  wanted  connections.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

full  name  :  yun  eunjung

nickname(s) /  alias(es)  :  emma  yoon  (  english  name,  not  used  ),  tbd

age  /  dob  :  twenty  one  /  apr  18  ‘99

hometown  :  tbd  ,  oregon

current  location :  fortuna  ,  maine

ethnicity :  korean

nationality  :  english

gender  :  cis  woman

pronouns  :  she  /  her

orientation  :  bisexual

religion :  agnostic.

family :  yun  hajun  (  father,  alive  ),  han  minji  (  mother,  alive  ),  yun  eunsang  (  twin  brother,  status  unknown  ),  yun  sangjung  (  younger  brother,  deceased  ).

face  claim  :  kang  mina

language(s)  spoken  :  korean  (  first  language  ),  english

speech :  sharp  tongued.  she’s  a  lot  of  opinions  and  a  lot  of  things  to  say,  therefore  has  never  learned  how  to  phrase  things  in  a  way  that  would  deem  her  polite.  often  blunt,  she’ll  be  quick  to  rip  off  the  bandaid  and  just  say  what  needs  to  be  said.  she  doesn’t  speak  with  much  class  or  extravagancies,  rather  falls  toward  crassness  and  crudeness  due  to  her  upbringing.

hair  :  quite  dark,  a  nice  chocolate  in  the  sun  and  a  cool  onyx  in  the  dark.  often  tied  back,  though  eunjung  is  only  ever  seen  with  her  hair  in  two  distinct  styles:  tied  back  messily  or  let  down  naturally.  her  hair  falls  straight  as  if  it’s  been  flat  ironed.

eyes :  big,  round,  and  doe  eyed,  a  dark  brown  in  color.  quite  the  weapon  to  use  when  she’s  in  trouble  or  when  she  needs  to  talk  her  way  out  of  something  (  to  proclaim  innocence  ).

height  :  five  feet  ,  seven  inches.

build  :  lithe.  as  a  former  volleyball  player,  she  has  kept  her  shape  up  with  rigorous  conditioning  (  mainly  because  if  she’s  to  admit  it,  if  she  doesn’t  she  kind  of  gets  lost  in  the  walls  ).

tattoos  :  none  .

piercings :  only  earlobes  .

scars  :  multiple  from  surgeries  at  sixteen.

clothing  style  :  preppy,  thanks  to  her  settlement  money  and  her  own  personal  taste.  never  a  hair  out  of  place  due  to  her  perfectionistic  personality  and  nature,  though  if  you  catch  her  on  any  given  night,  you’ll  see  her  true  colors  shine  through  with  old  (  very  old  )  sweatpants  and  a  hoodie  that  has  someone  else’s  name  written  on  the  tag  in  hangul.

usual  expression  :  sour,  bitter  –  life  has  handed  her  a  poor  hand  and  she’ll  make  it  everyone’s  problem.  she  has  one  usual  expression  and  it’s  resting  mean  face;  not  the  kind  of  person  to  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeve,  she  looks  the  exact  same  when  she  looks  happy  as  she  does  sad,  though  –  she’s  great  at  acting  and  lying  and  you’ve  never  lived  until  you’ve  watched  her  go  from  :|  to  :)  in  two  seconds.

distinguishing  characteristics  :  doe  eyes  that  scream  tragedy  –  reflecting  the  stars  in  the  night  sky  if  caught  just  right,  the  tilt  of  her  lips  when  she  clearly  wants  something  to  work  in  her  favor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❪  almost  directly  copied  from  my  google  doc  i’m  sorry  ❫ 

mbti:   istj-a,  the  logistician  /  most  who  know  her  would  assume  her  to  be  extroverted.  not  the  most  reserved  in  a  room  and  always  quick  to  speak  up  when  she  deems  it  necessary.  but,  like  most  logisticians  –  she’s  always  had  a  sharp,  fact-based  mind.  she  has  always  been  self  sufficient  and  hates  relying  on  others,  often  seeing  it  as  a  weakness.  she  is  sharp,  dedicated  and  ambitious  enough  to  accomplish  whatever  she  wants  to  accomplish.

enneagram:  6w5,  the  guardian  /  like  most  of  this  type,  her  biggest  fear  is  losing  her  guidance  and  stability,  which  translates  into  her  skepticism  of  the  world.  therefore,  it  often  leads  to  eunjung  protecting  those  she  is  loyal  to,  but  most  importantly:  herself.  she  will  often  think  logically  and  analytically,  solving  problems  practically  and  efficiently  but  she  will  often  be  selfish  and  can  come  off  as  cold  as  a  result  for  her  actions.

moral  alignment:  chaotic  evil  /  eunjung  has  never  been  the  most  –  angelic  person,  though  she  likes  to  pretend  she  is.  at  the  end  of  the  day,  after  everything  she  has  been  through,  she  has  grown  to  be  selfish  –  prioritizing  her  own  personal  gain  and  pleasure  above  all  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong.  it  could  be  argued  that  she  belongs  in  chaotic  neutral,  but  she  has  no  care  for  law  and  order,  nor  a  real  feeling  of  her  morality  anymore.

hogwarts  house:  slytherin  /  another  reminder  of  her  selfishness  and  how  much  she  cares  about  her  own  well  being.  all  her  life  as  well,  she  has  been  told  that  she  is  shrewd  and  too  ambitious  for  her  own  good  which  has  only  given  her  an  incessant  drive  to  prove  them  all  wrong.  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  like  most  slytherins,  she  will  try  to  view  every  possible  outcome  until  she  finds  the  outcome  that  will  benefit  her  the  most.

comparable  characters:  juliet  capulet  (  romeo  &  juliet  ),  jennifer  check  (  jennifer’s  body  ),  rosalie  hale  (  twilight  ),  blair  waldorf  (  gossip  girl  ),  sansa  stark  (  game  of  thrones  ).

the  rundown:  as  smart  as  she  is  selfish,  life  has  just  twisted  her  to  be  a  bit  cold.  she  isn’t  cruel  by  any  means,  nor  does  she  necessarily  wish  hurt  and  evil  upon  those  around  her,  but  eunjung’s  huge  main  character  complex  often  leads  to  her  priorities  being:  1.  eunjung  2.  yun eunjung  3.  eunjung yun.  her  biggest  trait  will  always  be  selfishness,  followed  closely  by  her  rash  belief  that  she  is  the  best  in  the  room  at  all  times.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

trigger  warnings:  alcoholism  +  death

this  is  a  rundown  on  the  biography  /  death  /  back  room  /  glass  person  in  the  google  doc,  also  better  written  /  explained  because  it’s  not  prosey  <3

hajun  is  not  a  good  father,  he  never  has  been.  from  a  very  young  age,  all  eunjung  has  heard  from  him  are  his  drunken  spirals  about  how  great  they  used  to  be.  his  surname  was  once  held  in  a  high  regard,  the  name  of  an  empress  and  he  has  always  dwindled  about  to  the  three  yun  children  that  because  of  the  greatness  he  has  passed  onto  them,  they  must  be  great  too.  

eunjung  has  only  ever  viewed  his  spiels  as  hypocritical  though.  she  has  only  ever  known  her  dad  as  a  mean  drunk  who  lives  in  the  dirtiest,  most  run  down  house  in  town  with  his  poor  three  kids.  her  twin  brother,  eunsang,  her  younger  brother,  sangjung,  and  her  spend  their  childhoods  taking  care  of  each  other  because  nobody  else  will.  their  mother  does  something,  they  never  know  what  because  she  only  arrives  with  enough  money  for  groceries  and  bills  and  then  she  leaves.

it’s  that  way  for  most  of  her  childhood  and  most  of  her  life.  it’s  a  continuous  cycle  of  eunjung  +  eunsang  taking  care  of  sangjung  (  who  starts  going  my  samuel  when  he’s  ten  and  the  twins  are  twelve.  the  twins  have  english  names,  too,  but  eunjung  has  too  much  pride  –  like  her  father  –  and  eunsang  is  the  eldest  and  will  do  whatever  his  twin  does  out  of  love  )  and  eunjung  is  just  –  quite  the  difficult  child.  she  speaks  her  mind  and  all  of  her  opinions,  as  well  as  letting  the  festering  anger  within  her  too  grow  because  she  doesn’t  know  what  else  to  do  with  it.

death  tw.  anyway,  by  sixteen,  she’s  just  this  bitter  girl  that  the  boys  hook  up  with  because  she’s  the  poor  girl  from  the  dirty  house  on  the  rundown  street.  she’s  got  a  reputation  as  a  shrew  around  town,  but  she’s  fine  with  being  a  shrew  if  she  still  gets  her  way.  samuel  is  much  more  popular  than  either  of  the  twins  (  who  are  epitome  of  bad  boy  /  bad  girl  from  the  wrong  side  of  the  tracks  )  and  is  invited  to  a  party  at  fourteen.  it’s  tradition  to  party  in  this  abandoned  mansion  out  in  the  woods  and  basically,  an  accident  happens  and  samuel  is  pushed  from  the  second  story  balcony  into  the  foyer  and  d-words.

he’d  called  eunjung  before  dying  though,  asking  for  a  ride  so  the  twins  had  went  to  go  get  him  but  instead  found  him  dead.  while  trying  to  figure  out  what  had  happened,  she  spots  some  kid  that  doesn’t  like  her  still  lingering  around  so  she  tries  to  chase  him  and  he....  like....  pushes  her  off  too  and  she  d-words.  end  tw.

her  back  room  is  just  this  little  room  and  she  still  to  this  day  doesn’t  know  how  much  time  she  spent  in  there  because  it  was  just  so  confusing,  all  she  remembers  is  that  she  (  or  someone  )  was  trying  to  convince  herself  that  she  was  home  and  that  everything  was  fine.  but,  she’s  a  bitch  and  was  like  “uh,  actually,  i’ve  never  had  a  home  <3″  and  broke  out  of  whatever  spell.

her  glass  person  is  just  her.  identical,  but  trapped  in  the  walls  underneath  the  ugly  yellow  wallpaper  in  the  room  she  was  in.  same  as  her,  just  more  lifeless  and  it  is  really  the  only  thing  that  still  scares  her  –  and  it  tried  to  escape  the  walls,  but  it  couldn’t.  the  lasting  effect  is  that  if  she’s  alone  in  a  room  for  more  than  an  hour  she  swears  the  walls  start  stretching  like  someone’s  behind  it  and  just  always  feeling  like  she’s  being  watched.  she  also  doesn’t  like  looking  at  her  own  reflection  that  much  anymore  because  it  just  reminds  her  of  her  glass  person.

anyway,  she  survives  miraculously  and  after  testifying  and  blah  blah  blah  (  i  did  research  on  settlements  and  i  still  didn’t  understand  so  ),  the  family  of  the  kid  who  pushed  her  off  –  and  probably  samuel  –  gives  the  yun  family  a   huge  sum  of  money  for  their  troubles  and  calls  it  a  settlement.  it  comes  with  the  condition  that  eunjung  doesn’t  sue  or  bring  them  up  ever  again  and  she’s  like  fine  that’s  cool,  whatever,  i’m  rich  now.

but  her  parents  still  aren’t  happy  and  before  samuel’s  funeral,  eunsang  runs  away  from  home,  leaving  them  with  only  the  daughter  that  neither  of  them  really  wanted.  she  still  pushes  forward  though  and  ends  school  as  valedictorian,  prom  queen,  etc.  and  heads  to  fortuna  because  she  really  doesn’t  think  she  can  go  anywhere  and  also  her  counselors  are  ass  <3

she’s  studying  international  relations  +  print  journalism,  her  hopes  are  diplomacy  or  something,  but  she  just  chose  the  majors  that  she  tested  highest  on  on  that  career  test  i  can’t  choose.  yeah.

please  plot  w  me  i  have  my  wc  linked  up  there  or  at  /w.  i  love  u  all  i’m  sorry  this  was  long.

#coreintro

[montanamadison]

(katherine langford, cis woman, she/her) Welcome to Lakeview, MONTANA MADISON! We hear that you are 22 years old. You’ve been in town 22 YEARS? You should get to your job as a CASHIER AT DUSTY PAGES. I hear that it fits your ROMANTIC and INSECURE personality. Don’t be out on Route 9 alone! (jess, 27, she/her, cst)

Trigger Warnings: parental death

basic information

full name: Montana Rose Madison

nickname(s): Mon

age: 22

date of birth: April 12

hometown: Lakeview, Maryland

current location: Lakeview, Maryland

ethnicity: white

nationality: american

gender: female

pronouns: she/her

orientation: pansexual

religion: agnostic

occupation: employee at Dusty Pages

living arrangements: Studio apartment at Pine Apartments

language(s) spoken: English, a small of amount of French and Gaelic

physical appearance

face claim: Katherine Langford

hair color: brown

eye color: blue

height: 5′5

build: hourglass

tattoos: "Till this moment, I never knew myself” on her inner left forearm. “Most ardently” on her right wrist

piercings: one in each ear, belly button

clothing style: layers, soft sweaters, floral patterns

distinguishing characteristics: none

health

physical ailments: none

neurological conditions: none

allergies: bees

sleeping habits: usually falls asleep reading

eating habits: she tends to do her best to eat 3 meals a day, but sometimes she struggles depending on her schedule

exercise habits: She tries to do yoga daily but sometimes forgets

addictions: buying new books without reading what’s already on her shelf

drug use: none

alcohol use: social drinker

personality

label: the hopeless romantic

positive traits: considerate, modest, romantic

negative traits: insecure, emotional, distractible 

fears: being alone

hobbies: yoga, baking, singing, puzzles, nature walks

habits: talks too fast sometimes, plays with hair when nervous, stares off into space, covers mouth when chewing or laughing, twisting rings on her fingers

favourites

weather: sunshine

colour: sage green

music: the maine, the head and the heart, beth crowley

movies: romance, romantic comedies

sport: baseball

beverage: water

food: strawberries, loaded baked potatoes 

animal: otters

family

father: James Madison (deceased)

mother: tbd

sibling(s): Georgia Madison, tbd

children: none

pet(s): none

extra

zodiac sign: Aries

mbti: INFP

enneagram: Type 2

bio

The baby of the family, Montana very much adores her older sisters even if they do bicker when under the same roof. Even with that fact, she considers both of them to be her best friends.

She was young when her father died. Of course, she does her best to cling to his memory but she feels guilty some days when she can’t remember little details about him. 

Montana has loved reading from a young age and almost always has a book on her. It instilled a great sense of adventure in her and she loves the chance to explore new places. Otherwise, she’s dreaming of new places and what it would be like to actually visit them. Because of her dreams of traveling, she likes to study new languages but gets sidetracked easily. 

She’s generally got her head up in the clouds, daydreaming of romance and adventure. She does love to have deep and meaningful conversations with people.

Used to Georgia wanting things her way, Montana is fairly laid back when it comes to how things are done. She doesn’t mind letting other people make the final decision but she’s not afraid to voice her opinion either.

Because she is the youngest, she often feels like her accomplishments are overshadowed by her sisters, leaving her to feel insecure at times. She does her best to hide this under a happy personality, however.

**More things will probably be added as I flesh her out more and plot with people.

#bio

[yehet-me-up]

Into The Ancient Woods - Four

Pairing: fae!Jongin x lady knight!reader

Genre: Fantasy AU

Rating: PG13 - mentions of blood, gore, etc.

Word Count: 2,149

Moodboard (that I’m OBSESSED with) @gingersaysjump​ 

Summary: When your sister is stolen by the Fae King you set out on a quest to save her. But when you arrive in the Kingdom of the Fae, all is not as you thought, and in no time killing the king becomes the furthest thing from your mind.

A/N: I wanted soooooo badly to combine these drabbles into a oneshot but after a few weeks I realized that it’s either going to be a few fun drabbles or... basically a full book’s worth of a plot and there’s no happy middle. 😅So I picked out my favorite bits from the rest of what I wrote and here they are! 😄

One | Two | Three | Four

Too much has been sacrificed to turn back now.

A king needs his queen. The kingdom needs love and blood to begin again. New life to wipe the stains of death away from its’ surface like steam from a mirror. And to do that he needs you. No one else. He’s tried. 

Other fae women. Their drops of blood did nothing. 

Other mortal women. Their spilled blood had only appeased the curse for a short while. 

No, he thinks as he gently sets you on the plush bed, watching the light cascade over your face. No, it must be you. You’re his final hope. The one with the hair the color of fire and the spirit to match.

~~~~~~~

The cell is an opulent one, but it is a cage nonetheless. Now that he has you, he isn't willing to take any chances. The bed may be lavish and covered in blankets - red and gold brocade, warm against the chill that lingers everywhere in his kingdom. 

He wonders if you’ll scream at him again when you wake and he smiles at the thought. It’s been far too long since life flowed in this village and he craves the intensity.

His healer already attended to you, removing any damage his sharp and efficient magic did. Exhaustion is the only thing keeping you from consciousness now. He stifles his impatience and paces in front of your cell.

He has questions - hundreds of them, as he observes the gentle rise and fall of your chest. 

Who put the flowers in your hair - were they done with your own hand or by someone else’s? A lover, perhaps? 

How did you come upon the sword you carry? The mortal kings have long been dismissive of the women in their kingdom. Did you steal it?

Jongin longs to pry open your mind and heart and have a look to see just what kind of woman fate brought him. Decades and centuries of waiting for the prophesied one. Endless years of suffering, now brought to an end. If she accepts me. And this.

~~~~~~

It's midday when someone comes for you again. Unfortunately, it's the King himself. Handsome and devastating and evil.

Though you now know it would solve none of your problems, you still long for your sword to be able to drive it through his heart. If just for the satisfaction of having bested him.

'Would you like to go for a walk, kultaseni?'

You make a noise somewhere between a scream and a whine of confusion. 'Surely you are joking.'

He leans an arrogant shoulder against the frame of the door and smiles at you. 'I am not. You have seen your sister, alive and unharmed. I would like to speak with you and would prefer to do so without bars between us.'

'You're the one who put me here,' you counter. You grip the metal so tightly it bites into your palms.

His expression turns mournful, brows drawn together and his plump, red lips pouting. Irrationally you want to sink into the bottom one with your teeth and pull. Just to taste him. Just to hear him moan and know it was you who caused it. But then the light shifts and his expression is reserved and taunting once more and you swallow the thought.

'Fine. But if you try and harm me, I'll gouge your eyes out with my thumbs.'

He raises a brow and smiles at you, pleased by your comment. 'I'd expect nothing less.'

The castle and the village, in daytime, are disconcertingly similar to your own.

Children play in the town square, their laughter echoing off the cobblestones. Women and men walk to and fro down a path off the center square, carrying baskets of fruit and grain from the harvest. Soldiers stand guard at the palace gates. No wonder they were so cavalier, you think, their threat comes from within. Not from the world outside.

Jongin leads you towards the mountains that rise towards the south. The villagers nod as you pass, watching you with awe. You wonder if everyone has heard the tale. You can almost hear their silent pleas, asking you to be your savior. Would you not do the same, in their place?

Thankfully the path disappears into the trees and you and Jongin are alone once more. Here, he's quiet and contemplative, hands drawn behind his back. You've never seen a man more beautiful. Or more dangerous. His moods change faster than lightning and you do your best to keep up.

He runs a ringed finger along the branch of a thick tree. Its bark is twisted and old, fighting death as the tree reaches towards the sun. 'The forest was so beautiful, in my youth.'

Curiosity gets the better of you. 'How did it come to be cursed?'

~~~~~~~~~

The light through the branches falls on his face and suddenly you can imagine the boy he was in his youth. His amber eyes are shrewd and playful. You wonder what it was like when his smile was easy and unburdened, when he gave of himself willingly and joyfully. 

When his choices didn't carry the fate of an entire Kingdom behind them.

You feel your heart soften a fraction and pull back, afraid of being drawn in by him. Even if you understand the source of his actions, even if the women aren’t hurt - there’s still blood on his hands that will never come clean.

‘If you wanted me… if I’m the prophesied queen, why did you take my sister? Why not come for me directly?’

He pauses, a slight blush coming to his cheeks in the golden light. ‘Is it so wrong that I would want my future queen to be able to say goodbye to her family in some way? To the human world?’

‘So you’ll really let her go back? You meant it?’

He folds his hands behind his back, contemplating. 'I'm entirely honest. If you hold up your end of the bargain, I'll hold up mine.'

You watch him, through the trees he looks almost human. His skin is ice white, with none of the bright warmth you'd associate with living. But his features relax in nature, away from the harsh lines of the castle. He’s been just as much a prisoner of the curse as the village, as the woods. 

For long moments you both get lost in your thoughts. He pulls a flower from one of the trees and holds it between his fingers. You can only imagine what must occupy the mind of a king of an immortal land. If you make this choice, you will become like him. Trapped forever in this land, trapped forever in this body. Until you choose to die.

'Will it hurt?' you ask quietly.

He looks at you suddenly. 'Are you agreeing?'

His eyes are wide with hope and you imagine him much younger. Being forced to make a deadly choice to save his people. Wouldn't you do the same, in his place?

'Yes.' Your promise is a whisper. 'Yes,' you repeat, stronger, finding your conviction and surrender like air beneath your wings. 'I'll do it.'

Jongin catches you off guard by wrapping you in his arms. In two steps his scent and his body envelops you. His delight is a palpable thing between you, seeping into the marrow of your bones. He pulls back and watches you fiercely.

'I will owe you for this,' he says gently, breath cascading across your lips. 'Forever.'

Even if you didn't know that magic lived in him, you'd be transfixed. His eyes are dark brown, cut through with amber in the bright sunlight. You remind yourself of the terrible things he's done and on instinct you step back.

'You didn't answer my question.'

His hands hang in midair for a moment, as though he were imagining you still in his arms. 'Yes, it will.' His hands fall to his sides and he looks sad. 'I'm sorry for that. Being remade is not an easy feat, from my understanding.'

You steel yourself. 'I've said many times in my life I'd be willing to fight, and die, for those I love. And if this will forever keep them safe, I'll do it.'

Jongin nods. 'You cannot know what it will mean for my people. Centuries of pain ceasing, like blood clotting in a wound.'

No words come, the thought of a lifetime away from your family sits heavily in your mind. But wounds still leave marks, even after they heal. Never seeing your mother and father again. Never being human again. 

Some wounds never heal. But for this, you'll sacrifice everything. And perhaps, in time, come to find other reasons to live. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stone dais in the square is empty. Distant noises of battle - swords clashing, men and women fighting for their lives - pound in your ears as you race to complete the ritual before it’s too late. Before all is truly lost forever

Jongin hesitates for a moment before stepping up behind you. He could have remained opposite you, closeness wasn't a necessity to slice your arm. But despite it all, you're glad he's there. The fact that he lives and breathes and feels comforts you. You hope you're still yourself after this night is done.

'Ready?' he asks, softer than you'd imagine.

With his chest to your back like a shield you slide up the sleeve of your overdress, exposing your skin. Fear clogs your throat and you struggle for breath. Fear of pain. Fear of loss. Fear of failure.

You grit your teeth and will yourself to be strong. 'Ready.'

His broad hand wraps around your wrist, holding it out over the circular opening of stone. The bottom is stained with age, with the imprint of hundreds of years of dead leaves. The sun has bleached the rim. With morbid fascination you hold still as he draws the blade against your skin.

The cut is deep, well-placed. You wince at the searing pain and bite down hard on your cheek, but still you don't look away. His face presses against yours and you realize abruptly how close he is. Jongin sets the knife down on the rim and wraps his free hand around your waist, keeping you steady. Held close against him, as if you were lovers.

The blood pools in the base, in drops, thick and red. You should have asked him what the transformation entails. Too late you realize you were so caught up in the loss of your human life, you'd asked nothing about your journey into the immortality.

Moonlight shines, clear and bright, as the clouds above you clear. Like a beacon it settles on the steady drops of blood that fall from the open wound. It's slowing, turning from a steady flow to a trickle. Just when you think he'll take up the knife and reopen the wound, the stone beneath you trembles. A great rumbling starts beneath your feet and you cling to his arm with your right hand. Ready for whatever hell is unleashing upon you tonight.

'Hold steady,' he says.

You nod and press your lips together to avoid screaming. In the silver light the blood in the base shines. It morphs from red to orange to a near white color in seconds. The structure around you drops a fraction before stilling. Your breath comes out in pants and you keep firm as the shimmering moves up the drops of blood, flowing upwards and back into your body.

When it reaches your skin, you feel like you've been stabbed all over. It's like the time you got too close to the fire as a child, when the flames licked along your skin and burned. You can't help the sound of surprise and agony that leaves you as the ancient magic undoes your humanity.

Jongin catches you as you fall, turning you in his arms and easing you down onto the stone. His hand beneath your head cushions you as your body writhes and jerks as though it were trying to evaporate like smoke. He seems to glow himself as he watches you with a look both fearful and intense with hope.

He squeezes your hand and you look down, realizing he's clasped his hand around yours. The world fades at the corners of your vision. The branches of the trees appear menacing in the darkness. The great turrets of the castle disappear as the clouds move over the moon once more. A great bolt of lightning cleaves the sky, striking the dais.

Your head lolls to the side and you watch the stone crack in half. Thunder echos around you so loudly you gasp. As you lose consciousness you hold Jongin's focus, praying that it worked. That his kingdom will be restored. That your people will be free. That he will once again be whole and uncursed.

#jongin x reader #jongin fanfic #jongin AU #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo AU

[lotornomiko]

Triumph’s Tribulatons: The Completed Chapter five (Worksafe)

Finally...

For what had felt like an eternity all in its own, the high ranking Lords and Ladies of the Heavens have held session, resulting in tiresome and ultimately fruitless discussions that had ended with leaving both Gods and Goddesses frustrated, and still desperate for a solution. For a saving, that unavoidable problem before them looming ever closer with the group still too stubborn and perhaps too stupid, to embrace the only real answer. It left them shaken to their cores, made wretched and pathetic, and colored ever so frantic, from Freya to Eir, to Thor, and even Tyr, they now all suffered with their first real taste of fear.

That desperation and those panicked feelings, made for a good look on them, the fear there that had been tasted, leaving a certain raven haired trickster holding back a smirk, a near euphoric feeling blooming inside him to see the divine and the world they had so callously ruled over, made so down trodden and pathetic. They were left choking on such feelings, on even humility and its foul tasting bitterness. Such a brutal combination made for a devastating despair, wreaking particular havoc on a certain Goddess, the golden haired Aesir besides herself with a grief she refused to fully acknowledge, but it was shaping her all the same. Her every thought and action, Odin dead, and not even her haughty Vanir blood line could protect her from that truth for much longer.

Already enjoying the sight of Freya’s unraveling, Loki relished the thought of the Goddess on her knees, broken and shamed, groveling in a way that would do nothing save to serve HIS ego. There was a grudge there, an insult that had never been forgiven, Loki holding a particularly vicious dislike of the Goddess, given that for all of her humble beginnings as a Vanir hostage, Freya and her younger sister, Frei, had never even suffered a quarter of what Loki with his mixed blood line had. It didn’t much matter that both had been born of the enemy, for their blood was wholly pure, while Loki had existed as one half Aesir, and one half Vanir. A blight of an existence, one barely tolerated by Odin, and outright shunned by Surt. Loki hated all equally, from the two tribes of Gods, and the world that they had squabbled over, to that of the nine realms with all their many foolish souls who had so blindly put their faith and worship in such tyrants.

It was a hatred not only birthed, but constantly nurtured in resentments, its like strong enough as to be the root cause of Ragnarok one day, but it wasn’t a desire to rule Creation as they had all known it, that motivated Loki now. This world and all who had known it, could literally rot away for all he cared, and indeed it already was part way there, the Heavens and its eternal summer, now knowing the first stages of an early chill. The cold weather wreaked further havoc on the shining realm, the once vibrant scenery withering away almost faster than Yggdrasil itself could. The sight of that great tree bearing what was its final death throes was just another shade of glorious, Loki again fighting back a smile, even as the wind seemed to blow the frost through the very leather of his clothing.

This was nothing compared to Jotunheim and its world of eternal ice, yet the rate of decay would one day soon see Asgard surpass the Vanir’s realm, into something far WORSE. The universe itself in upheaval, the chaos was a vintage so delicious that Loki was almost drunk off of it, toasting Creation and its downfall, while secretly plotting to remake it into something that was all the trickster’s own. How glorious it would be, the loathed now king, ruler over everyone and their all. He just needed a few more pieces of his chessboard to fall into place, the divine treasures needed, as well as Odin’s power. That source of raw energy was that much closer to being in reach, Loki almost absolutely certain that God as they had known him, was now dead.

It left a void existing in the world, the divine throne needing a power strong enough to quell the chaotic energies that had run a muck. That Freya and the others couldn’t see pass Odin as the answer, showed how unfit any of them were to take up Creation’s mantle. A pity for them and a pity for all, existence soon to be molded by a hand that was no less cruel than Odin’s had once been. Loki’s lips nearly curled then, his expression mocking, as he thought on how he would become a bigger and a better tyrant than even God himself had been, with the four treasures to back him, that and Creation’s power flowing through him.

There was but one minor set back. That very power of Creation, its precise location unknown even to the Trickster, leaving Loki as desperate as the others, albeit for a different reason. All wanting that human’s head on a platter, not even the raven haired Loki knew just how to search for him. The one and only gateway to Lezard’s world, has been sealed shut, and it would take more than any single Gods’ power to get there. Though he hated to admit to it, he needed the others’ help, needed their power working together, in order for the desired pathway to be forged. It was an unfortunate fact, that few if any of the current pantheon of Gods could think to see a bigger picture beyond saving their own hides. They were desperate, and dangerous, clinging to both their power and what remained of their eternity. Many a lie would be needed, tricks and manipulation used to weave a deceit that would give enough false hope to those he required aid of.

It would take more time and effort than Loki had truthfully been prepared for, and he could only thank the lucky stars, that only the seven were required. That those seven were not only the most powerful of the Aesir and Vanir combined, but also the most disagreeable in nature, was a bit of a problem, Loki having made little to no headway in this particular scheme. It was no doubt thanks in part to Freya, the golden haired Goddess the one whose voice the others stood a chance of heeding the most. She was powerful, not just in physical and divine strength, but in opinion, and thus far, the most resistant to all of Loki’s lies and truth twisting he had tried. Tried and thus far failed to plant a potent enough seed that could seduce Freya into falling into his trap. She was too guarded for that, too invested in Odin and her flimsy grasp of love, to want to believe that the Lord God Creator could have suffered any truly unfavorable fate. She clung to hope, which was a laughable idea of a Goddess, of any of the divine, the woman actually harboring it, and what was worse, was how she got the others to do the same.

It was insane and it was maddening, the way they all cow towed to the Goddess, to Freya and to the memory of Odin, as though they were all too stupid to grasp the concept of someone else moving to supplant that tyrant, and take over as Creation’s Ruler. Loki angled to do both, to seize Odin’s everything, but to also manipulate the others with none too subtle suggestions that were meant to seduce them into considering a broader view. It had started with a simple truth, that had been carefully worded, as to hide the lie within it, the trickster having pointed out that A Creator WAS needed on the throne. It had been a careful twist, the raven haired halfling, never once insinuating by name that HE meant to be that new God.

He couldn’t wait. For all that power, for the reshaping of this wretched world, and to finally have his revenge in hand. Then they would all see, Loki proven as something more than just mere Trickster and half breed, but the one being in all Creation that was truly the perfect blend, all the good and the bad of both Aesir and Vanir in him, transforming the raven haired youth into the ultimate of Gods. He would put Odin to shame, would see them all humiliated and humbled and DEAD.  

It was a visceral reaction he had to that, to his revenge based desires, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. Loki had almost forgot to be on guard, out in the open as he was, on this island dais that had somehow managed to remain attached to Valhalla’s presence. Anyone could stumble upon and see him, anyone at all, and it was just his luck to feel a familiar warmth that was not wholly unwelcome ripple from behind him.

His eyes closed, his expression leveling out to be something a shade more serious and solemn before turning. The ripple grew in strength, little bursts of light sparking as reality itself seemed to split open. He heard the sound of her ether, the musical chimes that heralded the Goddess arrival. His eyes seemed to water from the effort to make out her figure amid the blurring of colors, Loki first focusing on a pair of long legs, clad in knee high brown boots. A bit of thigh was next seen, before being swallowed up by the short hem line of a very form fitting tunic. Elbow length gloves encased her arms, and the look was complete with a little brown cap that was edged in gold, like the rest of her. But she was no golden Goddess like her sister, Frei instead one to embrace the more earthen variations of her chosen colors.

She put on a brave smile, even as the unnatural wind caught at and lifted her braided hair. That burst of color was a brown that had a bit of dark red woven into it, Frei an auburn haired beauty, who looked ill prepared for the weather at hand. It shouldn’t have bothered her, given her Vanir blood, and yet she shivered all the same, the Goddess hugging arms around her as though that would lend an added warmth.

“It’s so cold!” She exclaimed, and Loki could only give a small nod back. “How can you stand to be out in this wind!?”

He gave an uncaring shrug of his shoulders, but offered no real explanation. How could he, when it was thoughts of his impending revenge achieved that was warming him from the inside out, Loki burning with that need. With the victory he was ready to seize. Hot with it, Loki could only make a half hearted attempt to pretend to be as cold as the young Goddess, watching out the corner of his eyes, as she seemed to dance in place.

“Frei, if you’re really that cold…” He began but she cut him off.

“I can’t bear it!” She exclaimed. “I have spent weeks scouring via the Water Mirror, and have come up with little to show for it! Nothing of our King, nothing of the one who has taken him, and nothing of Gungnir, or of the other three Divine Treasures!”

“So they still remain missing.” He mused while holding back his grin. For yet another one of his schemes was proving fruitful, the Divine Treasures lost to the Gods who searched so desperately for them. Of course they all suspected that Gungnir was in that new world for by Freya’s own account, she had seen the mage lay hands on it before taking off with Odin. But Levantine and the Sylvain Bow, and even the Dragon Orb, had all been lost, or so they all thought. He muffled his laugh into a sympathetic noise, thinking how two of the unaccounted three were already in his keep. The sword and the bow, and both would be needed to give Loki the added edge to take on that interloping human. Especially if all was as suspected, Loki assuming the man not only had the Divine Lance, but had also laid claim to Odin’s power.

Lezard Valeth would prove a fight, although not one that was wholly impossible given the right tools at hand. A human shouldn’t be cause for concern, but this one was no mere man, but a mage proficient enough in the forbidden magics to have beaten Odin. That earned him a respect, and gave Loki a reason to be wary, and that was before accounting the fact that Gungnir had accepted the Valeth human. Creation itself seemed to have, this Lezard wearing the power like he had been born into it, rather than had stolen it. It was almost admirable, the mage and his desires so powerful as to warp existence itself to suit him. In another life, they might have even been on the same side, if not for the fact Creation’s throne was only big enough for ONE.

Determined that that one would be Loki, the Trickster intended to go into that fight with the odds loaded in HIS favor. The demon sword Levantine, and the Sylvain Bow were just that, nice boosts to his power, but he’d feel even better once the Dragon Orb was found. With three of the four Divine Treasures, not even Gungnir would be able to withstand Loki for long. It would be an easy slaughter then, and with the power and the lance claimed, nothing would be able to stop him then. Not even the combined might of all the remaining Gods and their soldiers.

“Where could they be!?” Frei’s frustration interrupted Loki’s own private musing. “I’ve searched, and I’ve searched...as have so many of our einherjar.”

“Ah but I’ve heard tell not even the einherjar are immune to Midgard’s sickness.”

Frei gasped at that. “You don’t mean…?”

“That I do.” Loki gave a nod of his head. “Without a Valkyrie to guide them, the einherjar that tread on Midgard’s realm make easy prey for that weakness.”

“What are we to do then?” moaned Frei, putting fingers to her temple as though feeling a headache coming on. “How are we to get anything done!?”

Another shrug of his shoulders. “That I suppose depends on your sister.”

“On Freya?” Wide eyed was the look she gave him. “What do you mean? What can she do that she hasn’t already?”

Loki considered his words carefully, as he looked over the Goddess clad in those earthen colors. Frei had always been the closest thing to a friend that the Trickster has had, the young woman the only one among the divine pantheon, who truly took the time to try and do more than just tolerate the raven haired God. Hers was a kind nature, this young Vanir with her wide eyes that were normally filled with such hope and optimism. If there was one soul in all of existence that Loki did not harbor a grudge against, it might just be HER.

That she held some sort of esteem in his eyes, did not mean that the Trickster was any less inclined to use her if a need arose.  With a few twists of the truth, and some subtle manipulations, she could become a powerful tool to wield against her sister.

“She needs to come to terms with the truth that the world itself tries to show her.” He said at last.

“The truth?”

“Odin is DEAD.” Loki said to Frei’s startled gasp. Her eyes had widened in shock, the young Goddess shaking her head no in denial. “That Yggdrasil, nay that the entirety of his Creation rots, is proof solid of THAT.”

Frei had turned from him, turned from Valhalla, as though seeking out the withering corpse of the world tree for herself. The Goddess trembled as she stared at it while Loki all but whispered in her ear. “We need not die with it….with the tree, or with the memory, the hope that your sister clings to.”

He pretended to care, to gentle his words, a hand on her shoulder as though to lend the shaken woman his support. “Your sister LOVES Odin.” The trickster said. “She is in denial, and lets herself be blinded to the fact that we need A Creator on the throne. If not Odin, then the next best thing…”

“And that would be….?”

“Not what, but WHO.” Loki answered. “One of us must claim the power that had existed inside Odin. Thor, Tyr, even your sister, one of them surely has the strength to sustain the world with it.”

“If that were true, wouldn’t they have already…”

“You’d think that, and yet it hasn’t happened. And do you know why, Frei?” She shook her head no. “Freya.” stated Loki. “Hers is a most powerful voice, one the other Gods all listen to. So long as she so stubbornly clings to that foolhardy belief, none will truly argue otherwise. But you could change all that, Frei!”

“Me!?” The Goddess squeaked, turning so fast, her braided hair swung for the effort. “What can I possibly do!?”

“Talk to her! Reason with her!” Loki exclaimed, and it wasn’t all an act, that earnest fire in his eyes. “You are the only one she might listen to when it comes to this! The world itself depends on it, on you, Frei…”

He had taken hold of her hands in a gesture that mimicked one of Frei’s many familiar overtures. She glanced down at their joined hands, chewing on her bottom lip as though considering. “It’s worth a try…” She began hesitantly, giving an uncertain nod of her head.

“More than worth it.” Loki insisted. “If anything of Odin’s world is to survive…”

“Lord Odin’s world may not have always been a kind one, but there is merit in its existence. The people there, our friends and family, our home...they MUST be saved.” Frei’s choice of words almost made Loki sneer, for he had no real family, and could claim only one sort of friend. A friend he was actively lying to while smiling in her face, Frei oblivious to the trickster’s true intentions.

“Yes...they must.” He pretended to agree with her, all the while knowing she was in for a world of hurt when HIS reality slapped Frei in the face. “Odin may be nothing more than a memory now, but his legacy will live on IF we act...if Freya gives the call to save it.”

“She will…” Frei had started to sound more confident now. “I’ll see to it!”

Loki did not have to hide the grin that overtook him, his face alight with a smile that might be considered dazzling even to a Goddess. Another piece was soon to fall into place, Frei the push needed to get Freya to galvanize the Aesir into true action. He felt not a single shred of regret at the using he was doing, Frei too naive and gullible for this world, and much better suited in an entirely new existence. He’d offer her a chance, a place in HIS Creation, and perhaps if she felt something, some small kernel of true affection, the Goddess would have spared HIM the effort of KILLING her.

====

The marble of the floor had sealed itself together seamlessly, not so much as a sliver of a crack to betray the chaos that had gone on just moments ago. That or of the anger that had been felt, the world itself a living extension of what had been in its God’s heart. Such has been Lezard’s displeasure that in that moment, Creation itself had acted, moving to protect him and his interests, spiriting the frightened Goddess away to somewhere else safe. Safe from his rage, and safe from his desires, the man who had once been human,  having pushed too hard, too fast, too soon.

She wasn’t ready. He knew that, every bit from her fight to her flight had in fact acknowledged it, the fear that was in Lenneth’s heart. It had sent her running, the Goddess scared, not so much of what he might do to her physically as much as the emotional havoc he had been intent on wreaking. The truths that had needed to be confronted, and with it would come all of its pain, such sorrow born of those lies that the woman had told herself. She wouldn’t be spared its sting, not even God himself able to shelter Lenneth from the agony of breaking free of such warped delusions. The comfort it had once given her, was now nothing more than a crutch, one that that divine beauty needed to break free of if that heart of hers was going to stand a chance at any true solace.

It wouldn’t be easy, that fact something Lezard could acknowledge in his more rational moments. His beloved needed a far gentler hand than he had thus far been capable of, that near overpowering lust of his, making him impatient and clumsy whenever she was so near. So consumed with the want of her, his attempt at a controlled veneer had all but shattered when her fear had turned violent, Lenneth’s fist finding its mark against his jaw. It had left him so close to doing something unforgivable, illusions torn and discarded if not for his world acting instead. Protecting him as much as her, Lenneth swallowed up whole into an abyss that had opened up beneath her feet.

Even now she was still there, free falling in an endless darkness, that heart of hers in an absolute turmoil that would only be the start of her unraveling. There was both pain and pleasure in the idea of it, Lenneth this intoxicating brand of everything that Lezard could have ever wanted. Her heart, her soul, that of her mind and her body, her tears, her agony, and that of her happiness, the man wanted it all. He was obsessed with the having of it, of attaining paradise with so perfect a being. It was so close to a reality, that he could almost taste it, his blood stained hands reaching for it, for her, Lezard this newly remade being, the ultimate Lord of it all, Lenneth and the effect she has always had on him, the one thing this God could not control.

Even now he was tempted, sheer folly though it would be to go after her right now. Lenneth was too wild in the moment, too angry and afraid, tormented by a truth he had only merely hinted at, such insinuations holding the strength to make a Goddess reel in an absolute terror. It was a fear not just for herself, for what might be done to her, but that of her world, the paradise that she had created. That perfect utopia that was nothing more than a lie that her wounded soul had retreated into, every insinuation that Lezard could make had the power to tear that universe apart from the root, the very foundations it had been built and brought to life upon.

It was a world of desires, that perfect paradise grounded in a pain so blatant that it had nearly torn the Goddess apart. That heart of hers that had been so ripped to pieces by the sins committed against her, it had left Lenneth reeling in an agony even she herself had not understood, the Goddess so overwhelmed in the moment as to escape into a fantasy. An illusion, the deceits woven there all by her own hand, the ageless woman latching onto a figment, the fragment that had been dangling before her. Seizing upon it, with that earring in her hand, out of all the lives she had slept through, it had been the latest, that of a child, a girl no older than fourteen when she had died, that had helped feed into a delusion. In that moment she had been thinking not as a Goddess, but as a human, a child, torn apart by a loss that had been about more than just one man’s death.

The seal had been broken, a flood gate of emotions overtaking the Goddess. How much agony had it been, to remember them all, every last life that had hosted Lenneth inside them. The highs and the lows, their joys and their pains, hundreds upon hundreds of women, all helping to shape the Valkyrie’s humanity. Her compassionate heart, the depth of her millennia of experience far more than anything those scant fourteen years as Platina could have given. She was just a sliver of what had helped shaped the Goddess, so small and inferior a speck, the child was not who Lenneth was meant to be.

So much more than any one human girl, Lenneth was in fact a being so uniquely her own. A caring Goddess, one whose capacity to feel and sympathize with the mortals a threat that Odin and the other Gods could not abide by. They hadn’t killed her, they had done WORSE, the woman’s free will taken from her, her true sense of being SEALED away.

A safeguard meant to control that which the Gods could not understand, that human compassion that that particular Goddess had been gifted with, the likes of which had been cultivated and learned over the course of a millennia of different hosts. Through them she had loved, and Lenneth had cared, the woman so wholly unique in her ability to FEEL, the Goddess the champion that the mortals had needed. The Gods had feared it, feared Lenneth and the allegiance that such emotions had wrought, Odin needing the Valkyrie to be a good little soldier who fell into line with his own selfish wants. Unable to dominate her as she had truly been, that tyrannous God had tried to eradicate her spirit, that of her true self, through such archaic means, such a brutal manipulation of the self, such that Lenneth had been little more than a doll. A puppet, beautiful and perfect, and so wholly without the feelings that would have interfered with the Heavens’ schemes.

The Gods had seen her as nothing more than a Death Goddess, a chooser of the slain to bolster their own armies with the souls of dead heroes. They had let her pick from the brave as though they were mere flowers, calling into service warriors from all corners of Midgard. Leaving her exposed to the very thing that the Gods themselves had feared, the emotions that were so plentiful in the humans, putting cracks in the shield erected around Lenneth’s heart. Bit by bit, that ancient magic had been worn away, the seal itself eroded with each and every encounter, until it had finally shattered, and with it went Lenneth’s mind, the woman having snapped.

It must have been so, so overwhelming, to have been hit at once with all those feelings, with the many lives she had slept through, their hopes, their desires, all coming to life within Lenneth in startling clarity. Was it any wonder she had lost her true self in the process, spinning from one host to another, again and again, until she had latched onto the most recent, that of the child, those scant years of fourteen the most overwhelming dream of them all given how fresh it had still been.

Even grounded in that child’s psyche, it had proved too much. Lezard himself had born witness to it, to that mental break that the Goddess had had. The tears that had fallen, the screaming that had been done, it hadn’t been just the Goddess, but the child, Platina, made horrified by the one solace of her life, Lucian the only kindness and warmth she had ever known, LOST, killed in turn by his own refusal to let go of his own delusions.

It had all been such a mess, a tragedy the likes of which all else had fallen short. Her puppet strings not just severed, but left tangled across the board, Lenneth had been operating on a grief born madness, forgetting who she really was, to play fantasy for one ignorant human. For some fake facsimile of him, Lucian a shadow, his miraculous return to life nothing more than a figment born of Lenneth’s own desperation and desires. Instead of the warrior she had known, he was something new, a puppet who was nothing more than some idealized version of who she had thought him to be, Lucian just one of the many dolls whose every thought had been painstakingly crafted by Lenneth’s power.

Creation itself had been remade on desire, on such potent delusions and lies, the many souls there not the people they had once been. They were just shadows of those that had died, annihilated in the Ragnarok that Lucian had helped Loki bring about. It hadn’t just ended lives, it had wiped out everything, including that of nearly every living being’s soul from existence, such devastation a permanent end, the cycle of rebirth itself destroyed. Such finality was there to it, that no one, not even God, could fight against, the world and its people entirely eradicated.

It left the world in complete ruins, Lenneth’s land a paradise populated in lies. It was a copy, a mere imitation of what had once been, formulated out of fragmented glimpses, the memories she had gathered, the people there nothing more than a pathetic bunch of puppets. They were just these hollow husks of what she thought them to be, these seemingly ideal versions ultimately falling short, all an attempt that was unfulfilling when it came towards truly easing the pain in the Goddess’ heart. They were all lies that couldn’t make her truly happy, anymore than they could satisfy her needs. Each and every last one of them, Lenneth living in a farce, a waking dream that could crumble apart so easily given the right push. If enough care wasn’t given, the Goddess would crumble again with it, her psyche perhaps lost to yet another kind of fantasy.

Lezard couldn’t lie and claim that he hadn’t considered it. Hadn’t given thought to molding Lenneth into a fantasy that would suit HIM best. But ultimately, he didn’t want the illusion, that of those broken remnants of who the Goddess had once been. He wouldn’t be satisfied with just a sliver, wouldn’t embrace the farce of just one of her sides. He wanted her everything and her all, Lezard made mad with the desire, with that need. It fueled him, his obsession with Lenneth the motivating strength that had led Lezard into doing the impossible again and again. He had died for her, traveled through time for her, even become a God for her, such a warped semblance of love a catalyst that had no limits and no match. Not even Lucian could compete, that young man unable to see past Platina, and past the Valkyrie, to the supreme manifestation of the woman, a Goddess so sublime as to move a heart that had once been so unfeeling.

Her mark left on him, Lenneth had helped shaped Lezard into this mad man, so utterly devoted in the pursuit of her. Worlds had been ruined, people slaughtered, time itself run roughshod all over, yet his hands were no less dirty than any of the other Gods. Than even HERS, Lezard creating his own world, his own perfect paradise to ease the pain that was in HIS heart. That it spilled hurt onto others, was of no concern, Lezard an unfeeling God who had no desire to rule or be worshiped by anyone other than by Lenneth.

Such blasphemies should have been sins enough to weigh even God down, yet Lezard was instead made unburdened by it all, free of the demands the throne of Creation should have made of him. He was free, having discarded duty the way he had discarded bodies, nothing but time on his hand, and power, and harboring a patience that was fast running out.

====

There was a noticeable mood about her companions this day, an angry, oppressive energy that didn’t lend well to any attempts at talking, just about everyone in a foul state of mind, grudges harbored, even nurtured. Not even Alicia herself could lay claim to being entirely immune, her own feelings in a churning state of turmoil. That sad sort of furious, such things born of the hurt done her, and done HIM in turn, the princess unable to spare the man that she loved from being dealt such a pain.

Her eyes and her heart sought him out when Alicia thought no one was truly looking, Rufus with his brilliant hue of emerald colored hair, and clothing colored in lesser shades of green, gold, and brown. An intricately carved bow of a fine silver metal was at the ready in his strong and capable hands, with the large quiver of arrows that was strapped to his back, not yet exhausted entirely of its bearings. Those weapons aside, the half elf blended well into the colors of the forest, to the point he could have disappeared entirely and none would have been the wiser, not even much sound to betray him, especially with the archer in so subdued a mood.

Alicia bit back a frown, her sad survey of him such that she would have never missed the lack of mischievous sparkle to his green eyes. Or that of the flat line of disapproval his mouth shaped, Rufus bordering on hostile with every arrow fired off, be it monster or snarling animal that they faced. Gone was his good nature facade, the jokes and light attempts at conversation, the man so focused and serious. She couldn’t help but wonder just what thoughts went on his mind, to the hurt and loss of hope that she herself had dealt him, the guilt that sparked in her making her flinch and reel in place, but even stronger might be the frustration. The sad anger that was born of being put in such an unenviable position. Rufus was part at fault for that, for the effect that the princess’ decisions have had on him, but larger yet was the blame they both put on their companion, on Brahms’ broad shoulders, irrational or not such feelings might be. Alicia wasn’t even sure if such a grudge made sense, despite the fact that the Vampire King had held back the truth, the cure needed outweighed by that of the world fast running out of time. The slight chill in the air itself was proof positive of that, this change in weather wholly unnatural for this region’s time of year.

The increase in monsters that had been roaming the woods was another, that vast multiplication in numbers such that a rip in reality might be connecting Midgard directly to Hel’s Nifleheim, that foul netherworld emptying it’s bowels of every demon, fiend, and devil that it could. It made for pure chaos, the trek through this forest a gauntlet of death that a lesser being would have no real chance of surviving, Alicia could only be glad that the Lord of all of the undead, traveled with them on their side. He certainly made a difference, even in his disguise as a human, swinging that big blade around, cleaving apart many with one blow. Not even suppressing his preternatural strength could belie the magnificence of Brahms muscles, many a creature exploding in a shower of guts and gore and blood that Alicia couldn’t help but find glorious.

Her nostrils flared especially at the scent of that blood, such a gruesome display proving more and more mouthwatering with every day that passed. It left her disturbed but unable to deny that a part of her was giving in more and more to the curse inside her, the ghoul powder that was wreaking havoc on her system, making her more than she had been, more than human, more than girl. Not even the ring on her finger could keep the monster inside her at bay for much longer, every step forward that the princess took, taking her further and further away from the cure and her humanity, and by Alicia’s own choice no less.

Not that there had been much option to do otherwise. Not with the entire world needing saving, Silmeria, Lenneth, even Hrist, all three in danger and needed to offset the slow withering the realms were each doing down the path to ultimate destruction. No future would be found then, no chance at life, no chance of anything, Alicia unable to play at oblivious even to spend the world’s final days left as human and happy with the man that she loved. That Rufus could not seem to understand it, and even less accept it, was a sour point of contention between them and between the elf and the vampire, Alicia not blind to the hostile looks he shot Brahms whenever the archer thought that no one was looking.

Even now he seemed to brim with resentments, and more than once, Alicia had watched Rufus sight down his arrow at the Vampire King’s unguarded back. Once his fingers had even seemed to quiver, as though to let loose the projectile, only to at the last possible second, let the sharp tipped weapon slam into the body of a monster trying to prey on their fourth companion, the warrior berseker, Arngrim. The man had barely grunted his acknowledgment of that help, their muscled friend still angry about the disturbances to his attempts at sleep the night before.

It left Brahms the only one not simmering with resentments, though there was a tension inside him, perhaps born of the enormity of the task set before them. He let it translate to violence, to the way he easily tore apart and slaughtered so many of the foes that dare set upon them. Alicia couldn’t stop herself from admiring such a brutal display, anymore than she could control the wildness inside her that lent such effortless ease to her own bloody attempts at destruction. She wasn’t even trying to hide it, letting the curse in part take her over, hacking at limbs the way the princess wished she could her problems, a scream erupting forth from her that set many a creature fleeing.

“Alicia!” She heard the sharp sound of Rufus’ voice, but such concern came from such a distance as to not immediately touch upon her still human side. The princess was almost too caught up in the battle, to the blood lust that she was feeling, the struggle real as was the hunger, too much of that crimson gore around and on her, the young woman caught between want and disgust, the dual natures of herself warring, and even she wasn’t sure which was about to ultimately win out.

Suddenly there was a hand upon her, but it was not that of the archer who grabbed at her now. It wasn’t his hands, wasn’t Rufus’ strength that shook and supported her, Alicia made to spin around and face the vampire, the Undead Lord himself, as the face that he borrowed commanded nearly all of her attention. There was power in those eyes, a hypnotic order that helped to soothe the worst of the beast inside the princess. With that calming came embarrassment, Alicia’s cheeks coloring a bright pink as she realized both Rufus and Arngrim were staring shocked at her, made appalled by her behavior, by the wild abandonment expressed with such shades of brutality.

Alicia felt that moment of weakness hit her, her eyes welling up with tears born of shame, the young princess trying to stifle the sob of sound that escaped her. Only Brahms hand kept her upright, else the woman would have crumpled to her knees, such despair overtaking her, the humanity that Alicia was losing that much closer to being gone, and she could not focus to mourn it, not with the horrified look she still saw shining in Rufus’ concerned eyes.

Brahms wasn’t saying much of anything, as if even the Undead King could not find the right words. Maybe no one could, in a world made this mad and desperate by decay. The humanity that Alicia was losing, was needed less and less for the trials ahead of them, and the Vampire Lord might even think that it better she hurry the transformation along, but he was also trying to be kind and not outright suggest she abandon all pretense at a fight against what was happening inside her. She had thought herself accepting, ready for such an inevitable fate, but there was that part of her that still clung to her hopes and her humanity, and had been made desperate in response to the look of revulsion that the half elf had worn and failed to stifle. It left Alicia such an odd mix of contradictions, that selfless part of her that was willing to sacrifice so much to save the world pitted against this selfish spark that had been born in the face of the disgust witnessed on Rufus’ face. The princess didn’t want him to loathe and to hate her, couldn’t bear so much as the thought of the monster she would one day become losing the warmth of the archer’s love.

“H...how…” A shaky exhale, the half formed question dying on her lips, Alicia downcast and trodden.

“Control is the key.” Came the answer to the question she hadn’t been able to ask in full. “The fastest way to hasten your downfall is to lose it. The more you give in to the beast inside, the quicker the ghoul powder will take hold and wreak havoc.”

Alicia shook to hear that, but couldn’t bring herself to lift her head, not even to stare up at the vampire. She couldn’t understand why he would tell her this, why Brahms would take any measure to help slow down and delay the transformation her body was attempting. Not when it would benefit him, the world, and Silmeria MORE to have that powerful ally at his side.

“Oh sure…” Came the sound of Rufus’ voice, laced with such open anger. “Now all of a sudden you are full advice and cures, when it is far too late for them!”

Alicia immediately wanted to look his way, but the cowardly part of her balked at the thought of chancing upon the still repulsed look in his green gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell her any of this sooner!?” The half elf continued. “Why NOW, save to satisfy your own sick amusement at watching her suffer!”

Still staring at the ground at their feet, Alicia felt the bristle the energy within the vampire did, but Brahms was otherwise without response. Did he have none to give, or did he not feel the need to dignify the archer’s accusations with words?

“What else do you hide from her? What other horrors and secrets do you keep from us!?”

“Now is probably not the time…” Came the words of the warrior, of Arngrim. He was all but ignored, Rufus snarling a loud shout at Brahms, demanding the vampire answer him. His voice almost drowned out the roar, that hiss that was followed by a great, big serpent slithering out from the brush, tongue flicking and venomous fangs flashing, its cold, dead eyes locked on and looking to make a meal out of one or more of them.

“Stay on guard!” Brahms broke his silence to advise them. “That one can down a mastodon dead with a single bite.”

“There’s no end to this nightmare, is there!?” Alicia heard Rufus mutter. He had already had an arrow notched and loaded into place, angling backwards, as he tried to get a clear and perfect shot.

“Not a one!” agreed Arngrim, his broad blade in hand. Brahms was also drawing his, having let go of Alicia, so as to stand ready for the battle that now faced them.

Alicia swayed uncertain on her feet for a split second, before steadying and picking up her own briefly discarded sword. In this moment, there was no choice but to fight, the question of who...of what she would ultimately become, put aside for the moment, as each lost themselves to the lust of battle.

=====

To Be Continued...

What a journey and struggle it was to get this chapter written. I think I first attempted it a year ago, and it was a Rufus POV, but once again the elf was messing me up. I seem to always have him trying to derail me, and not always for the better. Basically not only was he going to have a talk with Brahms that was way too early for the fic, but I realized I was rushing what was happening to Midgard way too fast against the pace of what was happening in other realms, especially Asgard and Lezard’s world. I had originally intended this chapter to open up with a Rufus POV...and got several pages written, but it was wrong for this point and time. Brahms and Rufus do need to have that talk, but I need to set up better why they would have the kind of talk they will end up having...I hope I can somehow salvage some of the initial attempt to use MUCH LATER in the fic.

But yeah, I was stuck for so long on the Midgard crew. Been going through some stuff in real life, especially health wise, and over a month ago, I got real inspired, and wrote the Loki Frei scene….I am trying to make each chapter have three scenes...and when I first tried to write the second scene immediately after the Loki POV...which now that I think about it, also went through at least one trashing….cause the initial attempt got stupid, and had Ull in it too...

Anyway, once the Loki Frei scene was done, I immediately moved on to what was attempted about three times, as a Lenneth scene. Only it was also suffering a pacing problem, meaning she was having thoughts and revelations she shouldn’t have been having this fast this soon...so I had to trash it, and ultimately it worked as doing a Lezard narrative instead. Also before writing the first two halves, I finished watching the scenes of the game’s A ending, including stuff leading up to it, so it strongly influenced me with the trashed Lenneth scenes, and then with some of the Lezard narratives. It had been a few years since I seen those game scenes, so they were very inspiring, and I even wrote down some lines, specifically stuff Platina was saying to Lenneth, that I hope to maybe get to work in somehow. Watching the game canon again after so long, strongly left me with the opinion she suffered a big mental break down when the seal finally broke.

So then for the final scene of the fifth chapter...I was just real stuck. I could not get a Rufus POV written, but then I just felt so stuck on the scene in general. I was desperate, that I would take whoever I could to be the narrating voice for it. I did not want to post five with just two scenes, no matter how frustrated and at times tempted I got...Right now I don’t know if I am gonna waste a chapter on a serpent boss battle scene. Think the next scene with the Midgard crew, will be well after the battle is over. I want to get them out of the forest and to a human settlement, so I can touch more on the Midgard sickness I’ve made mention of, the one that not even the einherjar are proving immune to!

Honestly I don’t even know how I got an attempt at the final scene for this chapter written….I hope it proves interesting at least...Not sure when six will be ready. Kinda been battling OSVP urges, but didn’t want to start down that fic’s path, until I had chapter five of TT completed. I am the type that once I am in the middle of writing a chapter, I HATE leaving said chapter to go work on writing another one. I am rather obsessive compulsive in that…

Later!

---Michelle

#valkyrie profile #lenneth valkyrie #lezard valeth #princess alicia #Rufus #loki #frei #brahms #fanfiction #fanfic #Triumph's Tribulations

[lilmajorshawty]

Lilith Through The Houses : The Fallen

(Carpenter Brut - TURBO KILLER)

Lilith In The First House : The Demon you can see

Lilith in the first house is about more than just the dark aura or the seemingly endless gazing eyes and petrified reactions from outsiders, rather it’s a accumulation of the natives energy focused so tensely in the area of the “self” that they seem like some powerfully dark entity. the face can have a darkness to it be it in color or in it’s appearance. the hair is often dark and depending on how close to the ascendant Lilith truly is it can even overwhelm any lightening affects of planets like Jupiter or Venus here. the eyes are often stunning, and a very harsh quality lies behind the gaze. the demeanor can seem quite detached and intense even if they are standing in an idle position. the natives also carry a strong energy, one that can seem a bit repugnant or erotic. these natives often can be completely opposite of the energy they’re expressing but it can be so atmospheric that they can be accused of “seducing” or “corrupting” their siblings, co-workers, step parents, friends lovers and so on. They have a mysterious nature to them that creates a sort of fearful nature in others, as many often ponder on if they are secretly moving or plotting in silence. These natives are POWERFUL and the scary aspect about them is their ability to dominate a room, a crowd or any relationship by sheer force of will and by existing. to many they are a threat, a bully, a sharlton, a whore, or some wicked vile beast of temptation. early life can be hard especially if Lilith is afflicted from this house and sadly these natives can receive quite a bit of sexual objectification as people often worship and lust after them as if they were a demon of sexual appetite. Lilith here is dangerous as she projects the inner animal in all of us onto the native making the native a target of primal behavior in others. People can act downright like wild animals towards these natives, snarling, kicking, biting, spitting, roaring, and so on just to strike them down and make them feel as small as the native makes them feel just by existing. once mature these natives are physically astonishing, as Lilith’s dark energy courses through the body’s constitution. staying fit is usually fairly easy here. and the mental and emotional faculties are very highly attuned making them incredible readers of character and intent. as these natives age they walk into their Lithuanian image and become truly intense and immovable objects, the men can seem like the devil, like some sly creature, some harmonious gale that weights you down with a simple glare. The women are fierce, and silent, passionately observing the world like a emperor of their bloodied kingdom. she is dangerous and cold, her intentions are far from emotional and her reactions are everything but sympathetic. this can be the coldest and unnerving of individuals to meet.

(Carpenter Brut - DIVISION RUINE)

Lilith In The Second House : The Blackest of Sheep

For Lilith in The second house natives self worth can be a guessing game, sort of like a constant pendulum swing. hatred of the purest and most carnal form can be exhibited towards ones body, whilst at another moment worship and unforeseen pleasure and joy can be derived from ones own body, their sense of self and place in this grand shit show called life. as you can imagine their appetite for the finer things is unmatched, but in many cases these natives love the ruined parts of beauty. This can be the ripped jeans, the broken stilettos. the old and cracked rusty crimson lipstick or the runny eyeliner, the spiked belt or the bareness of skin pale and lifeless after a cold shower. These natives are cold to the touch and tend to have quite the intense relationship with intimacy and touch. in many ways they loathe closeness and lingering intimacy, seeking to keep a mighty far distance from close ties or entanglements that last longer than they should. the other side of this is that once they do let someone in they can be so drawn to touch and sexuality, its sensuous and amorous nature that they become a gluttonous demon for it, eating their lovers alive. they can wear plenty of silly pretend tones, and soothe anyone into a manipulative tactic and make it seem like it was all a misunderstanding. These are the robbers and thieves willing to take and bleed everything and anyone dry if it brings them closer to their obsession “having what they cannot.” These natives are magnetic and their earthy bare beauty lies in the fact that Lilith here is reflecting on her time with Adam, the sex they had, his touch and the stranious and rather euphoric state she enjoyed until she was cast out and betrayed, thus as she lay nude and bare flying in rage in an unknown sky she dammed the world, the world she believed she had once had, now telling her she could no longer own it. these natives don’t value money or materialistic objects rather they value what is not their’s, what has been created, what is so fondly gazed upon by others, they seek to tear down it’s beautiful glow and to in-turn be made beautiful in it’s downfall. These natives by nature are sacrificial and have a almost godly relationship with the plants of the earth, many are gardeners in their pare time or actively partaking in medicinal herbs and many are even inherently nomadic easily reading climate patterns and environmental signs. these natives are also amazing in the field of medicine for their ability to scope out bodily dysfunctions and emotional imbalances. that being said these natives also have the most dangerous singing voices one could ever here do to it’s magnetic and often eerily moving tone. a rejection of the sensuality or body is common with this placement by the self or by others.

(Carpenter Brut - MANIAC cover)

Lilith In The Third House : The Rumors Of Shepard

Lilith in the third is a very subtle yet remorseless position, here Lilith has a free tongue and is delighted at the intricate yet magnified level of mental mind games and manipulation plausible in human nature. These natives may have had a parent or an early influence who was a pathological liar, a schemer or in some ways a com, and false prophet. the children often were fascinated and found novelty in the weakness of the brain and sought later in life to play into this more weakened aspect. Lilith sees weakness in the expression of sympathy and compassion and often preys into these aspects via communication or even things as subtle as certain movements/mannerisms, speech patterns and eye movements to throw off their desired target. Sometimes the lies are harmless while other times they are dangerous and toxic although none of this really matters to the native. These natives aren’t heartless per say but their is an inherent disconnect in the manner that the mind and the heart interact; they don’t. you see Lilith places an almost tar like cable separating the two so she can have her fun, as emotions would interrupt her spiritual mingle so to speak. These natives enjoy vocal banter and sparring as they get to test out their new tactics(subtly of course) on others and test the efficiency. These natives are brilliant writers and can often easily decorate a paper with words and diction that would make a literary scholar and professor of 99 years drop to his knees in astonishment and awe. they can color their words in such a way that can both woo you and terrify you with it’s effect. Many with this placement have seductive voices and can easily charm your clothes off in such a way you could even feel taken advantage of. both sexes are dangerous in this regard because although they can create a pretty little portrait for you, they are secretly knitting you in their twisted and often thoroughly planned web. these natives aren’t plutonion the sense that they actively seek to control their conversations or interactions, rather they do so in such a quiet and sincerely relaxed way that it’s as if it’s instinct to naturally swirl a mass into a a joyed get together, a fight into a compliment fest, or a tragedy into a miracle. They are intellectually 100 steps and 100 lifetimes ahead of you which is what makes being in their presence such a sincerely scary thing as they tend to be alphas in any interaction with everyone around them taking the place of common folk, in the presence of a lord. A rejection of ones thoughts and ideas and even knowledge by the world is common. the arms tend to either be hairless or sporting some dark moles, and scars here and there that seemingly seem to curve into a moon like shape. Lilith working positive here awakens premonition and cerebral awareness that far exceeds the normal person.

(New Order - Elegia)

Lilith In The Fourth House : The Nomadic Evil

Two things should be mentioned be for we carry on, This is Lilith And what we are speaking on is how her presence can effect that particular area of your life by infusing it with her darker scheme but make no mistake where she lay is often the area of life that needs her power the most as to protect the native from being dogmatically bulldozed over by the treachery of the world, she is both a blessing and a great evil. In the case of the fourth house Lilith can make the home life practically non-existent. It can create detachment or loose ties with ones heritage or familial upbringing. In both men and women this aspect can show that the families history is often dark and full of lose of power and regaining of it in darker ways through sexual and emotional expression and this can involve much of the female side of the family. their can be an innate disdain for other women or MEN especially with this but it’s more common to have a disdain for the conventional Mother and  Father dynamic if anything. This can make the native feel rejected when home, or as if they don’t really belong, or in some cases like home is not a real conceptual desire. the family itself can seem almost alienated and far, and much of the early interactions may have been tense, overwhelming or the women in the family could've been survivors of dark acts such as rape, murder, abuse, violence, and or anything that would’ve likely been the result of a man or society failing to give them aid. When Lilith rest here positively the above is still true but the connection to the divine feminine and women in general is passionate and endearing and instills a lot of inner will power and drive in the native. the chest can be very boney and rather tight with the way the nerves and organs coil together. so sharp chest pain, and chest compression is common due to anxiety or strong emotions. the heart can also suffer from palpation and sloppy rhythm yet miraculously the heart is in amazing condition and seems to do well enough on it’s own to fix any potentially fatal issues(still go to the doctor if any symptoms get worse though!) the native tends to express emotions in a cold and rather aloof manner and can have a very hard time flowing into their more nurturing qualities mainly because they were never really exposed to nurturing in the same sense most people are, they attribute caring and compassion to being sturdy, independent and steadfast anything other than that is useless and unnecessary. overly emotional or overly clingy types and unfortunately even children can be a very hard battle for these natives as it clashes with their essence. these natives despise intimacy and tend to prefer being alone as opposed to having to connect and get intimate with others. that being said these natives are emotional, and deeply so but this is hidden behind a wall of trauma and a very well created mask. the thing is though the mask isn’t to protect them or anything rather it’s an instinctual action to create distance and to raise themselves above those who would try to dig past their facade. They are rather powerful in nature and have almost demonic/fallen angel like emotions, often feeling wrath rather than rage, feeling pride instead  of courage and feeling lust instead of love, these natives emotionally exist on a darker emotional plane than anyone would ever be able to fathom. They are by no means fiction and i tell you this because these natives are genuinely so hard to understand, like a complex myriad of fluttered wings and bloodshed, navigating their pain, and their hardships is nearly impossible and this only worsens the older they get as they periodically build more and more mazes. the mind set is often attentive but far away, they can seem like passerby’s and have a extremely closed of nature making things such as friends or lovers seem a bit difficult. they are caring but rarely ever feel as if anyone is worth the expression, they are warm, but very rarely are they willing to create a sun. these natives are mysterious but not for the “look” of it, mainly because they live in their darkness so much so that it is who they are, and if anything thats the beauty of this placement they are an innocent angel with the whitest glowing wings dancing in the dark all alone, in peace far away from the commitments of the world.

(Big Black Delta - Huggin & Kissin )

Lilith In The Fifth House : The Volcanic sin 

Lilith in this house is a vortex of madness, she swarms and dances in the highways and the swamps, in search of god. She’s so angry and filled like a wine glass with sorrow and lament shouting endlessly for him to hear her pleads. She’s grieving constantly, for what seems never ending. always, constantly in pain, constantly burning her wings and re-birthing over and over each time becoming something else, something more, something darker than before. These natives are seemingly passive and bothered by the world around them, critiques of art, disgusted by the things humans passionately wave their fist in the air for, they always seem disappointed or lacking in amusement at the creations of man. these natives can brim with an almost colony of souls the moment they see that desired star power, that human pitfall where all seems lost and someone surpasses their own abilities and broken bones, and armless and all rises even still. these natives value fearlessness in the face of ones own demise and destruction, rising above adversary without wasting a moment to dwell in the sadness of the situation, art littered in pain or trauma and it’s massive weight or the intensity of someone being able to vocalize that pain and it’s darkening wave excites them. they adore man at it’s weakest moments and the fight it takes to come above those heavy waters once more. These natives can be almost demonically cold to weakness in others, turning a blind eye to someone crying or complaints of a hard life, they tend to ice out people with sob stories and even more so they tend to find complete disgust at those who sell their sob story to the masses and are worshiped for their own self pity. these natives are true seekers of sorrow and strength and it’s often why Lilith in this position is almost at the same strength as the Descendant in deciding whom these natives marry. The lover often is a cold one, dark, intense and one whom has witnessed their fair share of sorrows hence their more stoic and serious nature. the love life of these natives can be pure hell, as the romantic partners especially when younger may be attracted and even obsessed with the natives but upon the natives seeking to consummate or initiate the bond past the courting stage the lover can reject the native, coldly as if they were dirt and openly choose another, or avoid the native all together and in some extreme cases the lover could be abusive or monstrous all due to the fear and powerful emotions the native drudges up in the lover. much pain will be felt but many re-births will be the result, the natives get far more cold, far more intense and even more selective as they age. much of the rejection is due to the native unconsciously turning a blind eye to what Lilith is trying to show them within themselves. Lilith seeks to help these natives process their own pain, and to love from within rather than seek it through another person which is often why up until that is learned these natives are given nothing but hate, mis-treatment, and sorrow. The relationship with children can be healing surprisingly, Children often are afraid of these natives (at first) but as time progresses and these natives get older and harness their inner love children naturally gravitate towards them, seeing them as a source of fun and excitement, children are often very protective and fond of Lilith in the fifth house natives often showering them with love and support. the deeper alignment here is that the natives are constantly carrying an energy of sadness and are often disconnected with the world around them due to their incredibly high standards of what counts as passion, they don’t just want love they want to feel it like a raging fire in their souls until it leaves nothing but ash. they want to feel sadness like a suffocating and deafening tsunami on a deadly storm in the sea. they want to love heir children with the force of all mother united, to feel sex like a turbulent storm of water and fire crashing into the earth like molten rock and icy cool. Sexually keeping up with these natives is impossible, they move like a wrathful archangel and can be practically insatiable. Often times these natives tend to find their suitable lover sometimes between their early 20′s or mid 30′s in most cases it’s early 20′s during college or ladder adolescence as the sun is progressed into the incoming sign and its often mid 30′s following the Saturn return due to the fact that these two will be in a close interaction. the back can have moles, beauty marks or freckles or even just sport a few scars and a more darker skin tone than the rest of the body. the Body of these natives is AMAZING. these natives can seem to have model figures or have very naturally erotic bodies that can make even the most innocent person look like a sultry, she- witch the second the clothes come off. Dancing and writing tend to be past times for these natives and they can be some of the most erotic, and talented dances you could ever have the blessing of seeing. Singing and physical activities are also past times and these natives are very obsessed with the body and tend to gravitate towards more physical and martial art like sports, due to their inherent flexibility and natural stamina and vitality. the overall health is deviously good and these natives tend to have impeccable recovering abilities often mentally dealing with sicknesses. These natives can seem like they are constantly bored or unamused which can make them seem intimidating or hard to please which is often why people feel so uncomfortable or as if they must be on their best behavior around them, this includes people above them and children. many people may seem stiff or cautious around these natives due to how stoic and carnal their eyes can seem in disapproval. these natives internally feel a endless state of heartbreak and can suffer from drastic bouts of depression to episodes of euphoric highs only to come crashing down with the speed of a collapsing wave. things don’t necessarily improve rather these natives learn to take these up and down pitfalls and rise and even stronger version, a darker one than before.These natives are not easy to connect to and can be very hard to gain the time of but assuming you have what it takes they are extremely loyal and deeply sown to the ones they give their hearts too. Be careful how or what you say or do to their family, husband or kids they will annihilate you with the scorn of a trillion dead and their are no lengths they fear crossing. 

(New Order - Blue Monday)

Lilith In The Sixth House : The Burning Lambs 

This Position of Lilith can seem like a backdoor or a darkened curtain off to the side in the natives personality. They can demand an almost unrealistic and un-sympathetic tone to the less then polished things in the world around them. These natives crave perfection and this isn’t something that’s a simple as the clean room, and perfectly tucked shirt, or carefully honed smile, these natives need and desire perfection at it’s core in a almost spotless representation of themselves to the point of which they would rather annihilate all around them that fails to meet this high expectation. these natives condemn the more instinctual sides of man, preferring to use the mind as their highest calling. many find it difficult to work with others, preferring not only to go in alone but they enjoy the weight of taking on a duty even if it leaves them in shambles. These natives have a furious tenacity that makes them bloodthirsty for positions at work, and trying to compete with them will be a fruitless effort as much of their being and dark intellect come into the matter. in many ways they are beautiful, innocent and contrasting as much of their allure lay in their seemingly angelic and pure nature. these natives have a strong level of discipline and self restriction only second to their Lilith in Capricorn and 10th house brethren. These natives can have billions of fires and storms raging within yet present the polished car, sleek black dress and rose-marry scented smile in the phase of an entire gathering as if they weren’t impaled in the deepest of depressions moments before. a certain level of seriousness and intensity cloud these natives as more often then not they make it a point to remain objective, detached and eerily focused on the objective at hand. ignorance is blasphemy to the natives and often a source of immediate disapproval and disgusts. These natives are very intolerant of many things especially those whom are overly dependent on instinct rather than logic. These natives are incredibly sensual and pleasures can be multi-faced much like their minds. they tend to be their most sexually powerful in sexual situations of inequality. They may prefer more dominant or submissive sexual partners and have a strong need for their darkness to be expressed through sex on a constant basis otherwise frustration and mental agitation is the result. the problem here is that this can cause the underdeveloped types to get into relationships mainly for the sexual outlet rather than the emotional growth. They are immensely loyal, but very rarely ever do they commit to someone as many prefer to be alone. the masturbating tends to be aggressive and volcanic in nature and often times these natives have such an earthy and tense sexuality their co-workers and even people in their everyday lives may feel uncomfortable or sexually aroused around the person due to the power of projection. The stomach can have scars, or moles upon it in some cases or may be the source of frequent emotional upsets. the health can fluctuate and reach moments of life or death both figuratively and in reality. feeling reborn after fighting a illness is common even if it’s something as small as a cold. the animals that the native deals with can be Lilithian in nature and have darker more dangerous attributes. the animals will have powerful personalities and will be treated as an equal by the Lilith person. Hunting animals for sport or having a more grudgingly relationship with animals is common here. These natives are incredibly resilient and steady but have a very inner ward pestilence that causes them to despise reliance or support of any kind.

(Hozier - Dinner & Diatribes ) 

Lilith In The Seventh House : The God In we, The Devil In Me 

This position of all Lilith in the Houses is One of the most paradoxical and the most devastating. These natives are like a violent wheel of chance, filled with endless possibilities of both malefic and benevolent inclination. These natives can be the sweetest drop of honey, the warmest embrace and the lover of your fantasies dressed as human. They can be your wickedest nightmare, deepest wound and most prolific demon inhabiting your body and mind. They have a level of control on their environment that would put Scorpio to shame, a level of cunning that would silence Virgo and Gemini and an almost biblical like understanding of the human brain and it’s reactions, it’s fears, it’s pitfalls, and it’s quiet longings in such a way that Sagittarius and Capricorn would fall prey. the manipulation can be quiet and a bit hidden in it’s expression but it happens, sometimes unconsciously, other times in the light of day. these natives no matter how lighthearted their chart or how many grand trines and castle of Davids will have a very unbalanced inner world, fluctuating from nun to sinner. to many outsiders these natives are adorably understanding and patient, arguably the most giving and sacrificing person you’d ever meet but behind the sweetness these natives are deeply self invested and in many ways this isn’t a bad thing but it’s also a means of self preservation at the expense of others. These natives seem closer and more intimate then they actually intend and are one of the most difficult people to get to open up or trust you as they prefer to keep much of their interactions superficial and easy. Deeper connections are usually saved for potential love interest or marriage partners but they more than most people get to meet an entirely different beast. these natives can attract heavily Lilith aspected lovers whom are dark, tantric, intense and downright possessive and sexually demanding like hungry animals. The native themselves can project their own shadow side onto the people they interact with platonically or romantically which can create a hypocritical “why are you acting like that” mentality when the truth is that they themselves are the source of the heavy seated Lilith energy. This house is most dangerous as the natives tend to get that much more intense and dark when married, expressing their “real” self, the sinner, Persephone, the black witch, the fallen angel free of shackled purity. They can end up with marriage partners or lovers who seem completely opposite of them or rather a complete 360. the lover may have tattoos, work in a taboo field of work or the music industry  funeral homes, a rock-star/musician, porn,martial arts, or drug trafficking and money laundering, running a prostitution rink, selling drugs, or things like hunting, poaching, lucrative work, government work, FBI, Military and so on. The partner is often serious and Intense but LOYAL. The native can be co-dependent and attract co-dependent relationships which are more dangerous here because of the Lilith like theme. The natives can be seductive and so sexually provocative that many people who may not even be that sexual are actively aroused or turned on by the Lilith in the 7th person, often caught up in their sultry atmosphere to the point where many may be in fear, or disdain of the natives effect on them. The other lot, married, committed or otherwise who cannot help themselves develop strong obsessions with these natives. Love is death for these natives and it needs to be littered with obsession, paranoia, possession, hate, love, intensity, pain, loss, rebirth and struggle for them to truly value it, although they may intentionally reject this and seek more peaceful unions, deep down in their heart of hearts they need that chaos to mend the woes and trios of faces and inhibitions tied to love and romance for them. The buttocks and back can be incredible. the natives may have birthmarks on the butt or darker skin on the area, men may have a hairy buttocks while both sexes may have a mole or scar of some sort here. the waist and hips flow like water and can make these natives excellent at riding or rather make cowgirl-reverse-cowgirl positions their favorites.  these natives are dangerously seductive and can set a whole room of men and women in under their spell as this is a gender less sexuality expressed here often sucking up any unlucky fool who dares to gaze their way. the tell tale of these natives is their deep stare, it can feel like god is looking upon you, as if the devil is entrancing you, they seem like a taboo decision that will change your life and leave it in tethers. 

( Allan Rayman - Crush)

Lilith In The Eighth House : The Way we speak to the fallen

Lilith is happy here, she resonates with Hades and Pluto, she understands their loss and contempt, their lament and dutiful weight. These natives can seem magnetic without much effort. much of their movement and reaction is stalled and cautious, yet never in a way that brings to much attention to them or their actions. They are observant and still much like a spider knitting it’s web and patiently waiting for that one impulsive mistake or haphazardly movement. They are cunning researchers of human nature, often playing fortuneteller when it comes to mingling with others. Their sexuality can feel like a heavy wave devouring you in a atmospheric way. they can be around you, next to you and above you all in one instant without moving an inch. Their personality is deep but mysterious as much of their real feelings and sexual desires are hidden behind screen doors and cleverly manipulated traps set to seduce or adhere those around them. These natives prefer the -nonchalant and rather un-bothered  mode of emotional expression as much of their darker or more wild nature is focused and centered only on sex.Lilith here grants these natives the ability to use their darker more traumatic experiences as an  battery for their rebirth. The worst in life slides of these natives like tar and from the tar rises a new silky smooth pair of wings with an even tougher exo-skeleton. the ability to heal the pain in themselves and in others is one of their best qualities as they are strongly sympathetic and patient with the darkness and pain in others. Lilith in the 8th house more than most people are deeply aware how trauma and pain can make us lash out or self destruct as a means of regaining control and as a result these natives are the least reactive to emotional displays or darker manipulation or coercive tactics by others. In all honesty these natives feel pity for such people and do what they can to rise above them. These natives aren’t as manipulative or as power hungry as Lilith in Scorpio and tend to prefer love unions built on respect and equality, they just prefer to have control in the bedroom, but have a very open and ardent nature to the sexual ventures in general. sex is VERY important to these natives but they don’t mind waiting years or decades if it means they could find the right person who satisfies their inner sexual need of being respected and recognized as a sexual being and “loved” for it. Here we see Lilith desire to be seen and recognized for her sexuality rather than cast out for her pride in it. these natives are very sensitive towards sexual partners and tend to have deep marriages as they work very hard to maintain the sexual chemistry and love in the union all the while force-ably putting the relationship through upheavals and moments of spiritual and emotional rebirth. These natives are mainly gifted with matters of inheritance and joint business dealings but can still attract money in rather taboo or off the script like fashions. The sexual partner may be the only person these natives share their money or savings with and the family may come second or not at all depending on the relationship with the mother. Many outsiders can be obsessed with the energy of these natives often acting like fan-girls/boys at the acknowledgement of the native which typically puts them off and rather disgust them. These natives fall for the unassuming or the lighthearted free spirits who see the light in everything. the ones with Lilith towards the end of this house prefer more stoic and intense lovers. The genitalia is FIRE! quite literally, men and women with this position have sexual organs that can bring the crazy out of a mountain. They can be very passionate and deep sexually, and will be one of the most biblical experiences you’ve ever had. 

( Das Rocs - Maybe, I)

Lilith in The Ninth House : The God You Did Not Believe In

Lilith in the 9th is as massive as the solar system, seeking to spread her wings over all the neatly tucked books, and scriptures, digging her nails in the spoken word and rearranging it’s tones and vibrations to her sense of grandeur. Lilith here is the grand passion and the mighty mind of man. she sees fun and joy in the merriment of dancing in the knowledge and origin of the world and very rarely will you ever catch these natives poorly informed about any subject matter as they do much work to ensure that they know the where,why, how and when of the worlds history. They can seem arrogant or entranced in their own knowledge to the point of stepping on the ideas and thoughts of others. They can have an air of supremacy and carry an air of resistance or loathing of universities or higher schooling in general deeming it as a barrier to delving deeper into knowledge. others tend to dive head first into higher schooling to an almost obsessive quality, treating it like some insatiable candy they cannot get enough of, often returning to get multiple certifications and degrees just because they know they can. these natives have a strong dislike of strings attached or chains of obligations which makes them very unreliable and rather arms length in many of their interactions. to them sex and romance, life and death, love and hate should be experienced like an expansive adventure, a gift from the demons gods of hell to live as you please and grow beyond measure. The emotions can fly UP and DOWN, HERE and THERE but they are never consistent as these natives are always heading to the next spiritual obsession. Lilith here is free, SO endlessly free and she hates being all cooped up in a boring, stagnate environment which is often why these natives can seem like birds, and many share a strong understanding or compassion of winged creatures. The thighs can be darker than other parts of the body, have scars or moles or in many cases the thighs are often plump and thick depending on how deep Lilith sits in this house. the sexual arousal can be VERY fast for these natives, especially the men. they are turned on by the uncharted and many men with  this placement love sex so much that they fuck men and women, anyone that has that sexy air of inhibition is everything they’ve been begging for. the foreign travels can be to darker lands, and might involve danger, death or turbulence of some kind so its advised to be safe, and very aware of yourself and others when ever you head out of the country. Lilith is VERY bubbly here so it’s no surprise that this Lilith is one of the hardest to spot. 

(New Order - Vanishing Point)

Lilith In The Tenth House : The Suited Black Paint

Lilith here is operating in the cold black visor, the feathers loose and sparingly dancing cross the corporate office like jet black paint. These natives can Seem like a cold shower, or some devastatingly subtle but violent train crash with a almost quiet disharmonious backdrop. The ambitious nature of these natives is their strong suite but also one of their most dangerous past times. these natives seek the top and can often use their black wings to blow away the competition, sometimes through charm, manipulation, scandals, black- mail, sexual liaisons or downright intimidation. These natives prefer to be in charge and don’t stay in the passenger seat of any corporation, business, activity for very long as their natural desire to sit on top triumphs above all else. Their careers can be of Lilith like nature or just be drenched in Lilith like themes, such as sexual objectification which is especially the case with women or, emotional black-mail, power plays and power trips or downright psycho-analytics. These natives are often seen as a threat by their colleagues and in true Lilith story line fashion the workers can act as god and attempt to cats him or her out of the workplace, in some ways out of fear and in others out of jealousy. Many times over the bosses or corporate peers can be perverted, dubious and false in their intent. The natives tend to have a ridiculously thick skin and easily create emotional block aids and emotional barriers as a means of alienating their issues and problems as opposes to facing them. this is not done out of a fear of what they feel, rather to them the time necessary to deal with their emotional issues is time that could be used getting ahead. these natives can be filthy in the means that they go about rising in the ranks and can be even more cold and aloof to lovers whom fail to showcase ambition or a grounded and realistic outlook on their future. These aren’t the types to marry dreamers or people who spend more time talking about their future than creating it. These natives bare Lilith disdain for the lord and because of this they tend not to place things in the hand of chance or prayer, rather they believe in actively going out to create the destiny and circumstance they desire. These natives often have a hard relationship with the father or one that is strained in some way, this can even be a step father or male relative of some kind.  their is an inability to submit to the darker expression of their sexuality emotionally rather, they remain objective and steady sexually even when it’s something that should be expressed in a relaxed and calm way. Due to this their sexuality can be very BDSM and Power play friendly, they like to feel in control or be completely controlled by their sexual partners and this can sometimes be in such a way that the natives need to feel emasculated or pain in order to feel ‘alive” though this behavior is only in extreme versions. Much of the darker energy of Lilith is projected towards racing to the top, a insurmountable hill that never seems to end. these natives don’t realize that Lilith is trying to overcompensate for her perceived short comings and is on an endless tirade to prove(god) of her worthiness and power but in reflection to the natives this symbolizes a inner feeling of being inadequate or lacking in worth via their environment and their familial upbringing that is to be addressed before the native becomes engulfed in Lilith Dogma. these natives are as harsh as granite and can often struggle with the softer expression of sex and intimacy as they naturally detach and shut down emotionally from these things out of an instinctual need. That said the relationship with the children unlike their fourth house counterpart is not nearly as strained and is actually very close knit and loving. These natives give their children the world almost to compensate for what the native lacked as they themselves grew up. the kids come first in their lives, before the marriage partner and this can often cause a ripple in their marriages and one they don’t typically care to fix. these natives tend to have sharp peaks and ridges in the bone and can have rather great bone structure. under eye bags or just tightly clenched resting faces is common, beautiful smiles but these natives usually try not to smile in public.

(New Order - Leave Me Alone)

Lilith In The Eleventh House : The Millions of Lost Souls 

Lilith here is Many but also few. Here Lilith understands the human psyche, she understands its’s pains because she understand the worlds pain, she sees it’s cycle. These natives are Em-paths and have a very difficult time separating their woes from the woes of others. These natives can feel the emotions of others in such an intense way that it often feels like a shock or jolt that can energize or deplete them. These natives have a keen ability of harmonizing with whatever environment you place them in but can also create chaos there by crowding up the energies. Lilith here is like a battery constantly debilitating and then re-vitalizing the area around her postivley or negativity afflicting her environment. These natives tend to attract Lilith like friends whom are often, serious, sultry, provocative, reckless, anarchist, aggressive, shady, mysterious or downright evil. These natives are not naive, and tend to be very aware of their energy and how it manifest as a great many with this placement take on a very nomadic and free spirit. Many like to wear chakra stones, and jewelry that furthers their individualistic expression. The ankles and calves of the native tend to be darker then the rest of the body or remarkably sturdy. they may still have scars or just a abnormality to them. These natives make excellent runners and many gravitate towards the sport whilst others may pick up singing or artistic expression. Lilith here is more passive than she is a troublemaker, choosing more so to lay low and experiment with her own individual self then that of others. these natives can express themselves in ways that can turn society upside down, or greatly challenge the status quo. Gender normalties are lost on these natives as they don’t really identify themselves as anything in particular, rather they are energy, constantly shifting through the cosmos. These natives have a sharp tongue that can quickly turn poisonous yet they don’t actively rely on it. Due to Lilith being so self invested in this house very rarely will the dark side of this native produce any dangerous or malefic habits, rather they will seem calm and vulnerable to the world around them. sexually they can be very quirky and new-ons. they see intimacy as a gate way to exploring their raw and darker angel and transverse sexuality in stride. that being said these natives are very odd and perplexing in matters of romance and sex and can easily fly back and forth between wants and needs sexually as Lilith is really just testing the waters. the mind is deep but depressive and these natives can suffer mighty highs and strange lows from nowhere but never anything that debilitates them. these natives are very kind and balance self centered and people centered quite naturally through the help of Lilith.

(New Order - Guilty Partner)

Lilith In The Twelfth House : The Clouds where she Scram A Mighty Scream

Lilith in this house is chaos, the reasoning being that Lilith in this house is grappling with the idea of undoing and self manifested characterization. Lilith doesn’t face her actions she seeks to free herself from them and in karmic fashion the evil in her is sent spiraling back at her. These natives are sensual, calm, intimate, healing, clairvoyant, em-paths, spiritualist, pacifist, slaves of justice and human weakness yet they also manifest as unstable, counter-productive, stagnate, false, and stuck in their escapism. These natives are so afraid of themselves that it becomes an unconscious struggle between their Lilith and them as a person. this aspect plays out like a Demonic possession. The person can feel entangled, low energy, or bouts of hedonism, sexual obscurity, impulsive action, and substance abuse that are all out of character. The thing here is that Lilith in her attempt to commit a grand escape has a chain caught on the native causing her woes and anguishes to be randomly transferred to the native. in many ways this can create an alter ego for the native as the native gets hit with personality shifts that progressively deepen as they get older. the dreams can be very LILITH like and the mind itself and it’s inner psyche can feel like hovering voices, paranoia and dreams of sharing or not being in control of ones on desires and feelings or even actions. This aspect can create a person who can seem moody and unpredictable, especially when the urge to detach and disengage pops in, it can be impossible to stop these natives. the sexuality falls on a spectrum like with all humans but with Lilith's inhabitants their can be an unconscious desire to stay celibate or an association of trauma with sex. Men and women here could've been sexually abused or taken advantage of and their can be issues surrounding the “yes” or “no, i don’t want to” in sex that can make it a very blurred area for the native. Lilith may want aggression, passion and complete domination but the person may not truly resonate or desire that and may feel appalled or fear if the personalities switch during sex. these natives NEED a sensitive and compassionate lover who will guide them and nurture them, lovers who are chosen during the Lilith persona tend to worsen and deepen the wounds of this person causing a higher frequency of escapism. I CANNOT stress enough that parents who have kids with this placement, please ensure your child is well aware of the dangers of sex and try to keep them somewhat grounded in the area as some of the emotional trauma can start very early and these natives do sadly attract the worse of the worse mainly due to how violent and angry Lilith is to be resting in this house.  the natives can be seductive but its never intended, they can be provocative but it’s never something they are aware of. these natives are a mirror of the person who views them and can be a dream or nightmare but that is the power of Lilith here, even in her escape she creates a shadow in the clouds that can be anything the heart fears or wishes.  these natives can sleep for LONG hours and have a hard time waking up. The nightmares tend to be hard for them to awake from and can make the natives fear going to sleep all together. Insomnia is another manifestation later in life but is not the norm. the brain is powerful but repressed. the natives can be highly sensitive to hospitals or jails and usually attributes jails to danger and naturally stay away from them and out of trouble. these natives have a natural distrust of hospitals and vice versa as in many cases things go array or seem shadier than they should. that being said later in life hospitals are crucial for the native and therapy in it’s own way is very healing for the native. the desire to use sex as a coping mechanism is a dangerous possibility here and one that should be avoided at all costs. these natives are lovers not fighters and that is their loveliest quality but also their biggest weakness. unlike the other houses whom are fusions between the natives and Lilith this house is the only house besides the 11th house in which 11th and the native are separate and because of the natives emotional nature, Lilith readily devours them. These natives must learn to fight otherwise they will fall victim to Lilith's heavy presence. through their battle with Lilith these natives become remarkably strong, often powerful spiritualist and even stronger at protecting themselves from dark energy in their later years.

#Mine #Lilith in the houses

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Fallout of Darkness -- Another Meme

I unfortunately don’t recall where I got this one, though I do remember picking it up in the #fallout 4 tag -- I think a number of people were using it for their Sole Survivors. Which is what I did! With the added twist of “let me do this universe’s Alice as well!” So you get double the information for the same price! :P

Note: This is vaguely set I’d say about halfway through the plot of Fallout 4 -- Victor and Alice have had the run-in with Ug-Qualtoth and gotten Alice sunlight immunity (see this post for more details), and they’ve met at least most of the other companions. Also yes, pets -- Victor does indeed adopt the “wounded dog” encounter in my verse! (And if anyone knows of a mod that lets you send her to a settlement for real. . .) Please remember I haven’t actually played much of the main plot myself, so things may be a little vague/prone to changing once I get further in!

name ➔

V: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort – my mother wanted me to have an "aristocratic" middle name, for some reason.

A: Alice Pleasance Liddell – yes, just like the historical Alice. I guess after Lizzie decided I should be "Alice," my parents decided to go whole hog with the reference.

are you single ➔

V: [with a warm look at Alice] No, I'm not.

A: [with a warm look back] Not anymore.

are you happy ➔

V: [still with that warm look at Alice] Very much so.

A: [smiling] A lot happier than I was in the past, that's for sure. Which is kind of sad, given it's post the nuclear apocalypse now. . .

are you angry ➔

V: [thoughtful] I – I was for a while. Not so much anymore – the worst of it has cooled. But – there's some things I think I'll always be angry about.

A: I think my answer's about the same. Given some of the nonsense we've been through, some low-level anger is just to be expected, honestly.

are your parents still married ➔

V: . . .they were when the bombs dropped.

A: Mine were when that bastard Bumby set our house on fire to cover up what he'd done to my sister.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔

V: Burtonsville – it's a tiny village in England. I don't actually remember it, though – my parents moved to Boston when I was only about a year and a half old. I grew up here in Boston and the surrounding area.

A: Oxford, England – my father was the Dean of Christ Church at the college when he was alive. I have fond memories, but I haven't been back since the fire.

hair color ➔

V: Black. Mother occasionally insisted it was dark brown, but – black.

A: Black, though weirdly I actually was almost a redhead as a child. It darkened straight through brown to this as I grew up. I've never been sure why it got so dark, though I suspect all that time lying in Rutledge, getting probably-inadequate nutrition and light for a growing girl, didn't help matters.

eye color ➔

V: Dark brown.

A: Green, though Victor likes being poetic with descriptions like "emerald fire" sometimes.

mood ➔

V: . . .er – generally anxious? Trying to be helpful regardless?

A: Sarcastic? To hide that I'm more worried than I let on?

gender ➔

V: Male, he/him.

A: Female, she/her.

summer or winter ➔

V: Summer – I'm not a fan of the cold. Though spring's my actual favorite season – I love seeing everything come back to life.

A: I feel like I should like winter more, because of the longer nights, but now that we've actually fixed the sunlight issue. . .yes, summer. I'm not really a fan of the cold either.

morning or afternoon ➔

V: Afternoon – I've never been that much of a morning person, and mornings tend to be – stressful in the Commonwealth.

A: To be fair, so are the afternoons, but – yes, generally you're not dealing with threats still wiping the sleep from your eyes in said afternoons. And in my case, they're closer to night, which is still the time when I feel most myself, so. . .

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔

V: [exchanging a very warm look with Alice] Yes.

A: [giving it right back] Very much so.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔

V: Maybe not true love, but attraction? A sense of connection, kinship? Certainly – that's how I felt when I first met Victoria, and later Emily.

A: I can get behind that – my mother said she felt a pull toward my father when they first met. . .but I don't think love at first sight exists. You need to get to know someone – form a solid bond first.

who ended your last relationship ➔

V: [darkly cheerful] The American and Chinese governments, throwing nuclear missiles at each other! [sighing] No, that’s not quite fair – yes, they drove us into Vault 111, but the ones who actually murdered my wife and girlfriend were Kellogg and the Institute. The former more obviously than the latter, but. . . [voice cracks] Damn it, what was wrong with putting everyone's life support back on. . .

A: [puts a comforting hand on his arm] In my case, I never really had a romantic relationship before – even friendships were kind of fleeting, or long-distance. I've gone along with flirtations in the past to get meals, sure, but none of those ever turned into relationships. The closest I had was – well, Heather getting blood-bonded to me, which I didn't even mean to do. I was just trying to help her, and I didn't realize at the time. . . [bites her lip] I ended that – sent her away before she could get hurt by my enemies, explaining that what would make me happiest would be for her to be with her grandmother and stay in college. I wanted to go back and maybe try to help her some more once I was done with LaCroix's bullshit, but then. . .I hope she had a good life, in the end.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔

V: Not knowingly – goodness, what started off my, Victoria, and Emily's threesome relationship was an attempt not to break anyone's heart! It worked out very well, until. . . [shakes his head]

A: [squeezes his arm gently] I probably broke Heather's heart by sending her away – she looked so sad as she walked out the door. But it was for the best – I dread to think what would have happened to her if the Sabbat had realized I had a ghoul! Other than that – depends on if anyone I've drunk from was hoping for more than just a "quickie." I doubt that, though.

are you afraid of commitments ➔

V: I'm afraid of them being forced on me because of people randomly promoting me every time I even get close to an organization. [sighing, reaching up to fiddle with a chain around his neck] But – maybe a little. Seeing – seeing your wife get shot in front of you. . .then your girlfriend's half-rotted corpse beside her. . .it sticks with you.

A: [nods] Being the only survivor of the house fire that killed your family sticks with you too. As does two of the most prominent men in your life being the bastard who killed them and was trying to wipe your mind, and the bastard who killed you and turned you into a bloodsucker. Add in my own rather unromantic nature, and – yes, I did pretty much avoid commitments for a while. [smiles at Victor] I think I'm a little better about it now, though.

have you hugged someone in the last week ➔

V: Oh, yes – Preston and Piper just the other day, in fact!

A: I'm not usually much of one for being touched, so I don't hug much. . . [thinks for a moment, then hugs Victor] But I'll happily make the answer a "yes" in this case.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔

V: Does the brief period of time where Emily was crushing on me before Victoria noticed and decided to let her and me know it was okay if we wanted to date too count? Otherwise, I really don't think so. I wasn't popular with girls before meeting Victoria.

A: Bumby never made it clear whether he wanted to just turn me into a prostitute or fuck me himself as well, but I wouldn't count him anyway, because he was a horrible waste of flesh. So I have no idea – don't think so. Heather was – very open about her admiration.

have you ever broken your own heart ➔

V: Again, what happened between me, Victoria, and Emily was an attempt to avoid that. . .I can't say I have. It seems like others always break it for me.

A: Sending Heather away did hurt me a bit – not in the same way it hurt her, but it was nice to have someone else around the haven. . . [looks up at Victor] And I did resist romance initially here. Fortunately tall, dark, and handsome here didn't let me break my own heart.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔

V: Love, definitely. [going pink] I mean, lust can be nice, but. . .

A: Love – even alive, I wasn't particularly interested in sex. And as a vampire, any urges that way now go toward sucking on people's necks. Which I guess is sex-adjacent, but still. . . Maybe "love" for serious relationships, "lust" for getting a meal.

lemonade or iced tea ➔

V: Oh, I haven't had either in ages. . .and I recall needing a lot of sugar for both to enjoy them. . .I guess lemonade. I think I had that more often.

A: Literally can't drink either these days, for multiple reasons. . .but I'm going with lemonade because I have fonder memories of that. And – hmmm. I wonder if it’s possible to make a variation with that “plasma fruit” Ted came up with at Wildwood Cemetery. . .

cats or dogs ➔

V: Dogs! I had a dog growing up, Scraps, who was my best friend! And Victoria, Emily, and I were going to get a dog shortly after. . . [pause, shakes head] And now I have Dogmeat and Mutt! They’re a good pair.

A: Cats! My best friends growing up were the family cat, Dinah, and her two kittens, Snowdrop and Kitty. Being a vampire does tend to make animals rather mistrustful of me, sadly, but I had some luck feeding ferals pre-War. And we managed to trap a cat recently who didn’t immediately try to claw me and run away – I’ve named her Kit-Kat.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔

V: A few best friends – I'm n-not good with lots of people, and I just. . .I'm always so awkward, s-socially. I'd rather have a couple of people I know I can trust.

A: The same – I don't trust easily, after all the bullshit I've been through. Give me a small circle of people I know have my back over a larger group of more casual friends any day.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔

V: Romantic night in. I'm not much for parties. I like staying home with the people I love and just – being together.

A: Sort of like "love or lust" above, this kind of depends. I like a romantic night in for any actual relationships, but I did my fair share of clubbing to find someone to drink from back in the day.

day or night ➔

V: Well, I do like a good sunny day, but. . . [looking at Alice] I've really come to appreciate the nights in the Commonwealth. And not just because of the stars.

A: [smirking at him] Flatterer. . .but yes, night. For the longest time, it was the only time of day I could be out in. . .and even though it's wonderful now to be able to go out during the day and enjoy that, night is still when I feel most myself.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔

Victor: No, but that's because I never did. I grew up in the middle of a plague – I didn't have much incentive to sneak out! It took until I was fourteen for cases to drop enough in our part of Boston for my parents to be comfortable sending me to a school with other children, and by then I was so used to staying at home, sneaking out never occurred to me.

Alice: Oh god, yes, the New Plague, that was horrific. . .on my end, yes, I was. I tried to sneak out a couple of times as a small child to have adventures in the garden late at night or in the middle of storms. . .if my parents didn't catch me, though, my older sister did. I think I only actually got outside once, and even then it was only for a couple of minutes before Lizzie caught up with me. Mostly because she was trying to sneak out too, and didn't want her little sister tagging along.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔

Victor: . . .yes. To both. I – I can be pretty clumsy if I'm n-not paying attention to where I'm going.

Alice: [giving him an odd look] I've fallen down stairs – rushing around as a child on imaginary adventures – but never up. I'm – not entirely sure how you manage that.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt ➔

V: [tugging at the chain around his neck again, which is revealed to have a blue butterfly pendant and a gold wedding ring strung on it] Yes. Something I can't have, I'm sad to say.

A: [playing with her own necklace, which is an old iron key shaped like the symbol for Venus] Same here. I'd like to think your Victoria and Emily and my parents and Lizzie are in the same place, at least.

wanted to disappear ➔

V: Oh, plenty of times. I have an unfortunate knack for saying the wrong thing and then wishing I could melt into the floor. And – well, I suppose every time I've been hiding from enemies and wanted to just turn invisible counts. . .

A: I wanted to disappear in the asylum a couple of times, in the sense of 'just stop existing.' Survivor's guilt does a number on your brain, let me tell you. . .though I can actually disappear these days, thanks to Obfuscate! Though, annoyingly, I genuinely can't do it if someone's looking.

smile or eyes ➔

V: Oh, back to these? [thoughtful] I – honestly, I think eyes. Victoria and Emily's eyes are one of the things I remember best about them. . . [smiles at Alice] And my current paramour has some of the most beautiful eyes in the Commonwealth.

A: You're going to make me blush despite being dead if you keep on like that. Though, what's good for the goose is good for the gander – while I like your eyes, it's your smile that really warms my undead heart.

shorter or taller ➔

V: Um – shorter out of necessity. I haven't met many women who are six-foot-three.

A: Similarly, I'm five-foot-five, so I kind of have to go taller.

intelligence or attraction ➔

V: . . .I assume this means intelligence or looks, and – I can't deny I like a pretty face, but the main reason I got together with the women I did is because I could hold a good conversation with them. Intelligence.

A: My attraction seems to be based on actually getting to know a person, and I don't suffer fools gladly. Intelligence all the way.

hook-up or relationship ➔

V: Oh, relationship. I never had a hook-up. I can't – I can't just do the "one night stand" thing. I need something a little more.

A: Another one where my actual feelings versus how I'd act to get a meal clash – though admittedly, I never had a "proper" hook-up. I'd just get someone in a quiet spot, suck a bit of blood, and let them get on with their lives. But now that things are better, I'm only too happy to commit myself to a real relationship.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔

V: Well, it’s something of a moot point now, but. . . [he waggles a hand, making a face] I have to admit, I never liked my parents much. They weren’t very “hands-on” in raising me, and I often felt like they considered me a burden. Or a bargaining chip for social status. I did my best not to rock the boat just because upsetting my mother never ended well, but. . . [sigh] It wasn’t good.

A: By contrast, I had a perfectly lovely family life – my parents were kind and encouraged my sister and I in our various pursuits, and Lizzie. . .she was the best older sister a girl could have. I felt like I could tell her anything, and even if the age difference made playing together difficult, she did try whenever she had a spare moment. The reason I have such an “enthusiastic” imagination is because Mama, Papa, and Lizzie never tried to stifle it. I was – I felt so loved and happy the first eight years of my life. . .and then Bumby took it all away. [she looks away] I – it’s not fair.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔

V: [completely deadpan] I was frozen at the age of 27 in a vault designed to store people long-term for unknown reasons, and was finally thawed 210 years later, to find my wife and girlfriend dead, my son kidnapped, and the world above having been turned into a wasteland of vicious wildlife, super mutants, and raiders. With parts of it still irradiated because people are STILL launching small nuclear missiles at each other. Also the people who kidnapped my son can apparently make synthetic humans and use them as spies. And in the middle of all this, I’ve somehow ended up the leader of a bunch of little farms and such that composes a ragtag peacekeeping force that is still better than the actual assholes in power armor who have moved in. You tell me.

A: I can top that – turned into a vampire at age 20 after moving to Los Angeles to make sure I was far away from a murder I’d committed, then ended up roaming the world after a literally-explosive end to my time there as everyone’s errand boy. Was in Boston when the bombs dropped and got staked when my hidey-hole collapsed in on me, meaning I too got essentially “frozen” for 210 years, until a raider attacking this fellow here yanked the stake out and I responded by sucking him dry. Leaving me in a post-nuclear apocalypse trying to survive in a world where anyone’s blood might be at least slightly radioactive. Also we discovered that vampires are in fact the result of a little bit of some Lovecraftian horror worshiped by the people over at Dunwich Borers leaking into our world and infecting our souls. So that’s fun.

have you ever run away from home ➔

V: No – again, grew up in a plague, never really wanted to leave the house because of it.

A: I threatened to, once or twice, when upset, but I never followed through. Though I guess my moving to California could be construed as a kind of running away after I killed Bumby. . .but I never thought of Houndsditch as home. Same with Los Angeles, after I left there in the wake of that mess with LaCroix.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔

V: No, though – sometimes I thought my mother was thinking about it. Whenever my social awkwardness reared its ugly head at one of her parties.

A: My parents were never the sort to do that, and Bumby of course wanted me close at Houndsditch. And I left polite vampire society on my own terms after LaCroix.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔

V: . . .I’m not entirely sure how to classify my relationship with Strong. But I know he thinks more highly of me than I do of him. I – I try to be understanding, but it gets very tiring to listen to him go on about how one day Super Mutants will kill everything.

A: I had to be a lot friendlier to a lot people back in Los Angeles than I would have liked. . .but I don’t think any of them were laboring under the delusion we were actual friends. So no – if I don’t like you, I don’t hide it.

who is your best friend ➔

V: Alice, Preston, and Piper, definitely – they’re the ones I’ve traveled the most with, shared the most with, and just – feel the most comfortable around. [smiles] Oh, and Dogmeat of course.

A: Victor’s definitely my best friend – and frankly, I feel pretty close to Piper and Preston myself. They’re good people. [she smirks] Though Hancock and Nick are definitely the best people to snark with.

who knows everything about you ➔

V: Probably most of the people in the Commonwealth, I’ve had to explain about being frozen and what happened to my son a lot. . .more seriously, I’d say the above three. They’re the people I’m closest to, and the ones I’m most comfortable sharing information with.

A: I don’t know about everything, but – yes, Victor. And probably Piper knows the most after him, given she wanted to interview me for her paper.

#memes #fallout of darkness #tell me where to find shelter #(keeping that old tag for ease of use for the moment) #fallout 4 #vtmb #hopefully this isn't too confusing for everyone #Ted is supposed to be the Tremere living at Wildwood Cemetery along with the other 'rejected Bloodlines Protagonists' #and yes he made Plasma Fruit #because if I'm going all in with this crossover I will go ALL IN #I have a nasty feeling living through coronavirus is going to inspire me whenever I have to write about Fallout's various diseases #also its government #also yes Victor's opinion on Strong is my own #dude I'm trying to like you buuut #Piper and Preston are my current fave companions #but please remember I am kinda stuck in early days in the game itself #we'll see how things evolve as I take on other companions! #however Ada will be respected around here among the robots #she deserves better #queued

[whirlybirbs]

✶ ┈ PART TWO !

summary: loki meets the grandmaster and you intervene. the agreement (it’s really not an agreement, okay, more of a cause of circumstance) of parading as a married couple happens and neither of you are very excited about it. pairing: fake!wife reader x loki, set in ragnarok. a/n: hehehe here’s another 1.7k of these two. READ PART ONE HERE.

The third time you meet Loki, he’s strapped to that contraption the Grandmaster uses to intimidate the new fighters.

You’ve had a long week.

You’d woken up in a trash heap, bruised and sore and somehow alive. You’d decided, wholeheartedly, not to think too much about it -- not that you had an option. After stumbling over an entire mountain of inter-galactic trash being deposited by the varying collapsing stars around the planets atmosphere, you were quickly descended upon by a terrifyingly pretty woman with a tight braid and white symbols painted down her cheeks.

She smelt like booze and swaggered like a practiced warrior.

You didn’t trust her.

“You a fighter?” she’d called out, tilting her head.

“Where am I?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Sakaar,” she chirped, “Now, are you a fighter? Yes or no?”

The moment that followed was tense -- a bit like a standoff.

“... Depends.”

“Hm.”

She’d caught you in the neck with a tracker then, a smirk on her face the whole way. In one swift move, she’d thumbed open the control device in her hand and sent you convulsing to the ground.

“The Grandmaster likes the pretty, clever ones.”

Her condescending smirk was the last thing you saw before you blacked out.

You woke up in the same chair Loki’s strapped to currently, bleary eyed and confused -- that man, The Grandmaster as he called himself, had decided rather quickly that he liked you. Perhaps it was your sudden decision to praise him and his choice of make-up.

(That was a great way to make friends in the bathrooms of bars -- surely compliments are universal.)

“Who are you, then?” he asks with a slow smile.

“I’m a Doctor,” you say slowly, “I study astrophysics.”

The smile drops immediately.

“Boring.”

He’s about to wave his hands, then, send you off to some horrible fate, you’re sure.

“A-And I tell stories!”

(That wasn’t really a lie -- you had a minor in classics. If you recited the plot to Hamlet to any of the colorful people in this penthouse suite, you’re sure none of them would realize it. Perhaps being entertainment would be worth keeping you around until you figured out how the fuck to get back home.)

“Stories, huh?”

So, here you are now, swathed in Sakaarian socialites, faux-smiles plastered to your face as you giggle into your neon colored drink. Your gown is something deemed fashionable for this planet, all colorblocked and tight with high slits and low dips. Along your cheeks is the same stark white branding as the brazenly mean warrior-lady you’d first met on Trash Mountain. You realize, half-way through the application by one of the Grandmaster’s maids, that it’s a mark of ownership. It’s rather disgusting, the whole fact you’re someone’s property now -- but, you suppose that it’s keeping you alive and in this current state? 

You really can’t complain.

Until you see Loki.

You choke on your drink.

You stand swiftly, leaving your martini and the gaggle of others behind as you move quickly upon the center of the room. The Grandmaster reels for a moment at the obstruction amidst his usual induction -- and your jaw drops.

“You.”

Quickly, the look of surprise morphs into one of anger and Loki’s eyes widen. You feel like you’re suddenly had all the words you’d thought about screaming in his face these last seven days pulled from your brain and all you can do is snarl and shriek:

“... You!”

Your finger jabs his chest, prodding at the green and gold armor there with such ferocity it’s no wonder you’re not stabbing him. For the first time, Loki gets a good look at you -- it’s clear you’ve somehow managed to worm your way into this “Grandmaster”’s circle; it’s commendable. For a Midgardian.

The Silvertongue, with every passing moment, is beginning to see his opportunity to do the same slip away.

“What? What’s the matter?” the Grandmaster coos, circling Loki to place his arms around your frame. You stiffen. Loki watches you swallow your anger. If he wasn’t strapped to a chair, maybe he’d find your discomfort amusing. However, Loki can’t help but avert his gaze.

Your anger is well deserved, really. He did throw you out of the Bifrost.

“... Oh, I see what’s going on here.”

Both you and Loki blink at the Grandmaster.

“... I’m sorry?”

“Star-crossed lovers.”

Your face twists into disgust as Loki blinks between the two of you -- confusion splits his features into an attempt of a charismatic laugh.

“Good sir, I believe you’re mistaken --”

“No,” he raises a finger, “I’ve seen this before. And you told me of your crash landing, my pretty little pet -- you said you lost your friends on the way. Lost a love… Raven haired and pale...”

You’d been entertaining the party with a poorly remember retelling of Romeo and Juliet to the Grandmaster’s court, but okay. It’s pretty clear the Grandmaster is making his over revisions as well.

Loki’s brow quirks.

There’s a moment pause. Then, the Grandmaster stops his blinking between the both of you and claps his hands. “But, if not -- I’ll have him executed. Your reaction was warrant enough. Can’t have my best storyteller off her game, can I?”

The maniac’s ability to bounce between party and murder is astounding.

Loki’s eyes are wide. His look is pleading.

You, in that moment, are put in the biggest moral dilemma of your life.

You can, of course, turn the other cheek -- but that means cozying up to the global terrorist who unceremoniously threw you out of the Bifrost to try and save himself from his own sister. On the other hand, you’d be letting Thor’s brother die all while losing your potential way off this planet. But, there’s no guarantee the trickster will help you. However, if there’s anything you remember from that one mythology class in college, it’s that gods tend to honor their debts.

Saving his life is a debt owed, right?

(And honestly? Letting Thor down and never seeing your parents again sounds pretty horrible.)

“It’s just… I thought you were dead.”

Loki, in that moment, is nearly impressed by your acting.

“I was worried sick,” you continue, clearly gritting out the last bit, “I… I was sure I lost you.”

“Fear not,” Loki’s mood swings then into one of pure amusement, smirk brandishing his features, “I apologize for scaring you, my sweet.”

“You know,” the Grandmaster’s face is twisted into a grin, “I have this six sense -- I can just… smell love in the air, or something. I knew it, I mean… Look at you two. God, it’s… adorable. Really. So, what is this, huh? Just a… a fling? Or --”

“We’re married.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

Loki’s got the same look on his face.

“She’s the crowned Princess of Asgard,” Loki says then, slowly. His eyes are glued on the way you shrink away from the Grandmaster’s gaze, “My wife.”

“Ass-gard, huh? Wow.”

He hums.

Loki is suddenly realizing there’s a reason to why you’re doing this. You’d made it apparent in the Sanctum that you weren’t intimidated by the likes of him. Somehow, though, this Grandmaster figure has earned your evident anxieties.

(Maybe it was because you’d watched him roast a guy who made a poorly timed joke about the color blue on your second day here. The smell was awful. But, it’s not like you can tell Loki that -- you just have to hope that somehow this little improv plan works and you and Loki can somehow get the hell off this floating landfill.)

“And… what’s his gig, huh, my pretty?” he’s addressing you now, lips upturned in an expectant smile, “Besides… well.. good bone structure.”

“He’s a Silvertongue, Grandmaster,” you explain slowly, hands clasped in front of you, “In more ways than one.”

Loki suddenly feels a bit like a piece of meat.

You relish in his discomfort as the Grandmaster bursts into an excited bought of laughter.

“Oh, see! This is why I love you! You’re so clever,” he chirps, waving his hands, “Your wife, Mr. Low-key, is lovely.”

“Isn’t she?” he grits.

The Grandmaster is unphased. “Quite! Now, this is good, this is very good -- I mean, it’s evident your… sexual tension is there. I can’t see why you two would lie to me, y’know? That would just be… uh… a bad idea.”

Behind him, Topaz clacks the Grandmaster’s staff on the red and white floor. You swallow thickly.

“I could never lie about my love for him, Grandmaster,” you supply, a delicate hand moving to touch Loki’s cheek. His skin is cold, “It’s simply not in my nature.”

“Nor I,” Loki says sweetly, “We make a better pair than separate, good sir, I promise you that.”

The man claps with glee.

“I love this, two lost loves reunited,” he nearly cries, “Topaz, get these two their own room, will you?”

It works.

Somehow it works.

The penthouse apartment they set you and Loki up in is big -- it’s better than the slave quarters you’ve been sleeping in for the last week. The far wall is ceiling to floor windows. Outside, Sakaar flies by; it’s the first time you’re actually getting a good look at the planetside. It’s bustling and the sun is setting between two twin moons, bathing the capital city in pinks and oranges.

“You are idiotic, bug, to propose this little plan -- had you wanted to sleep with me, you only needed to say so; lest I would.”

You recoil in a snarl. Loki is staring at the room in disdain.

“I just saved your life.”

“That colorful maniac had neither the strength nor gall --”

“Oh?” you chirp, hands flying to your hips, “Really? Sorry -- when did you get here? Ten minutes ago? Yeah, nice, cool, I’ve been here for a week and I’ve seen him toast like, five people for fun. The smell is awful.”

Loki’s mouth snaps shut.

Who in the Nine Realms are you?

“Besides,” you snarl, “I’m not doing this for you -- I’m doing this to get home.”

“And who, pray tell, said I would help you, bug?”

You, then, engage in this game of chess again -- your movements are slow and calculated and predatory and Loki has to admire your ability to dish it out. Your fingers jabs his chest once, then again.

“I did,” you seethe, “When I made sure you didn’t get easy-bake-oven’d, asshole. You owe me.”

He opens his mouth, keen on biting into your argument, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Dinner is being served, Lord and Lady Loki!”

You both save it for another time and exit the apartment holding hands.

The third time you meet Loki, you’re married.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x reader imagine #loki x fake!wife #loki x fake!wife reader #heehehehehe

[psycheswritings]

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Four

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War Fandom: Peaky Blinders Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC) Warnings: Swearing, I guess. Word Count: 4533 Author's Note: Hello again, hope you are all well. Here's the update, hope you all like it. Thanks for everybody reading and liking it, I really appreciate it. Honorary mentions to @livingmybestfakelife​, @stressedandbandobessed7771​ and @livvtheangel​ for commenting. Tags are at the bottom. As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated. I relly hope you like this one. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Daphne and Tommy share a moment alone at her birthday party and that leads him to get better acquaintance with some of her closest friends. The gangster has some unexpected meetings and receives a rather interesting invitation. Michael wants to take part in the family business, despite his mother’s disapproval. May Carleton goes to Birmingham to get Thomas’s horse and take a look at the betting shop. Aunt Polly has a little talk with her nephew about wanting things he shouldn’t want.

Four

They had sang Happy Birthday to her much to Daphne’s dismay, but it was worth it in the end because Karl had happily “helped” her blown out the candles, giggling all the time. She stayed and socialized with the guests for a bit until she made a very sneaky exit to the balcony on the side of the pub. Usually she would be the one waltzing around, making small talk with people and entertaining the guests, but today she wasn’t really feeling like it. Of course she appreciated Alfie’s gesture - he always tried to cheer her up on her birthday and she loved him for that, truthfully, but one can ignore the day you dread the most just for a certain amount of time.

The cold wind outside made her instantly regret not having grabbed her coat before leaving, but the perspective of going inside again didn’t appeal to her, so she just ignored the goosebumps. She let her eyes wonder to the street, observing a few people stumbling on the sidewalk before her already cold fingers searched for the locket hanging from her neck and nesting against her sternum. Daphne stroked the piece of metal with her thumb a few times, the material was warm against her skin, them she pulled it out of her neck and opened it.

There were two small black and white photographs inside – a young girl and a boy, their features were similar, yet different. You couldn’t tell by the image but they had the same hair color, his face was a little more angular than hers and his eyes from a darker shade of brown instead of the bright hazel of hers. Despite the fact that the photographs were in different sides of the locket, you could tell that they had been cut from the same image because they two seemed to be looking and smiling at each other. Daphne pressed her thumb in the boy’s picture, so absorbed in looking at it that she didn’t noticed she wasn’t alone anymore.

“You seem awfully unhappy for someone who has a whole party in her honor going on just inside.” A warm coat rested against her shoulders, she distinguished the smell of tobacco and whisky, mixed with a musky cologne that she did not quite recognized. Thomas noticed that she closed the locket before turning to face him, adjusting his jacket on her shoulders. The seemingly innocent and simple gesture of her adjusting a piece of clothing that belonged to him on her own body made something stir inside of him – some raw possessiveness that wanted to show the whole world that she belonged to him, even when he knew that it was far from the truth. Daphne seemed like the kind of woman who would never belong to nobody but herself.

“Let’s just say I’m not very prone to celebrate my birthday.” Her fingers rested on the collar of the jacket, the locket securely held between the fabric and her fingers. Thomas noticed that every time he had seen her she was wearing the jewelry. He took a step closer, taking the piece from her, the metal was still warm and weighted very little on his fingers while he twisted it. She did not protest, just observed him with the piece – in the dim light he noticed that the chocolate brown of her irises was almost drowning in a sea of deep forest-green. He didn’t opened it because he felt that whatever was inside it was something she wasn’t willing to share.

“You’re one of those girls who is all worried about getting older?” He asked while parting the chain and passing it through her head, the locket still between his fingers.

“Not exactly.” She smiled but he noticed that it was a forced one because it didn’t reached her eyes. Daphne raised her hand, placing it on top of his, her fingers curling themselves around his own to slip the locket from out of his grasp. He let her take it from him and watched as she adjusted it inside the neckline of her dress. “We better get inside.” Before someone notices, she thought but restrained herself from saying, even when the look in his eyes said that he had guessed it. She should not feel guilty, they weren’t doing nothing wrong, just talking. However, Daphne still felt like this stolen moment was some kind of secret that she had to keep to herself.

He followed her closely, when they stepped out the door she took off his jacket, handing it back to him, their fingers lingering together for a moment before she thanked him and excused herself, going to the opposite direction of the balcony. Thomas stood there, watching her leave, holding the jacket in one of his hands and wondering how this woman could have such a strong effect on him in such a short time. He opened and closed his hand – the one she had just touched - his fingers seeming to tingle from the contact even now.

Nobody in the pub seemed to have noticed the little interaction between the two – nobody except William and Polly, who were observing the couple on opposite sides of the mezzanine, unaware of one another.

William had seen Thomas follow Daphne to the balcony moments before, distracting their friends and preventing them to look that way, trying his best to hide the frown on his face. He had managed to break free from the small group, who continued in deep conversation, and walked to the railing. There was a hint of sadness in his blue eyes as he observed Daphne stepping into the room wrapped in Thomas’s jacket. He clenched his fists, recognizing the all too familiar burn of anger and jealousy that he hated so much.

Polly, on the other hand, was sipping her drink when she saw Tommy and Daphne getting out the door. The older woman smiled to herself – she was right them, there was more than just attraction between his nephew and the girl. She looked around, checking if anybody had noticed the two and saw one of Daphne’s friends - the handsome bachelor who turned many girls heads all night - observing the couple with closed fists. He looked in her direction, a frown on his face, and saw that she had seen the same thing as him, making quick work to ignore it and come back to the group of people he had just left.

Thomas was walking towards his family, intending to leave and go to his hotel room when he heard his name being called.

“It can’t be Sargent Major Thomas M. Shelby!” He turned on his heels and took just a moment to recognize the man talking to him.

“Charles Johnson, I thought I would never see you again.” There was a hint of a smile on the gangster’s face when the man approached him and the two hugged, patting each other on the back.

“Me neither. I was pretty sure that none of us would get out of that hell alive.” Thomas couldn’t stop himself of thinking that a part of him never really came back from the war, but that wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have.

“And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are, indeed. You should meet my fiancé.” Charles turned to look at the beautiful blonde that had almost knocked Daphne to the ground at the beginning of the night. He made a motion with his head and she approached them. “This is Jane, my fiancé. Jane this is Thomas Shelby, we’ve met in France.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” They shook hands briefly. She looked like a delicate flower – young and beautiful and full of energy. They were a match made in heaven, because from what Tommy remembered, Charles had that optimistic nature that sometimes got to your nerves, despite some moments of weakness.

“Likewise. Let me ask you how you ended up with this moron?” She laughed and Charles scoffed at him.

“I thought you were better, Shelby.”

“It was actually my brother’s fault. Charles and William have been friends since they were kids.” Jane answered sweetly, looking around to find her brother. “Oh there he is. William, come here.”

“Where’s the fire?”

“There’s no fire, you daft.” Jane smacked her brother on the arm, the action made Tommy remember Ada. “Mr. Shelby was just asking how I and Charles have met. I said that it was all your fault.” Thomas recognized him immediately – it was the man who had hugged Daphne for a little too long earlier. He extended his hand towards him.

“Thomas Shelby.”

“William Weston.” They shook hands, analyzing each other while doing so. “You know Charles?”

“Yes, we’ve met in France.” Charles answered quickly, apparently unaware of the animosity between the two men.

“You certainly have been there too, haven’t you Mr. Weston?” The sarcasm was evident in Tommy’s voice, but only William noticed it.

“Yeah, served there as a doctor. It’s where I’ve met Daph.” If he wasn’t paying close attention, William would certainly have missed the brief twitch of Tommy’s lip and the hint of jealously in his eyes.

“Yeah, only good thing that happened there.” Charles observed. “You’re here because of her birthday too, right, Tommy?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Mr. Shelby, how do you know our Daphne?” This time Jane noticed that something was going on by the tone her bother used, so she paid close attention to the conversation.

“I’m working with Mr. Solomons.”

“That he is. A pain in my ass, if you ask me, mate.” They all turned to see Alfie arriving with Daphne on his arm, both of them smiling.

“Business partners.” William seemed a little impressed.

“Yeah. Would you believe it?” Alfie joked, making Jane and Charles laugh, William just smiled without humor to avoid suspicion but Daphne noticed it, so did Tommy.

“You should come to the weeding, Mr. Shelby.” Suggested Jane and Charles immediately agreed.

“Yeah, it’s a great idea. You can bring your wife, you certainly are married by now. You were always a heartbreaker.”

“No. No wife” He looked at Daphne for a moment and she tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze.

“That’s a shame, but you can bring anyone you want, really. Alfie will be there too, so you will at least have a familiar face around.”

“Wouldn’t lose William’s speech for nothing.” The Jew smiled, making the others laugh at William rolling his eyes.

“Again with that?”

“Couldn’t let it pass, mate.”

“Daphne will be there too. She will be my maid of honor.” Explained Jane as enthusiastically as is the day she actually made the invitation. All of a sudden, the idea of going to the weeding seemed quite interesting to Tommy.

“Well, why not.”

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Thomas sat in his office looking through the file that Campbell had given him earlier when he saw the blood smearing his fingers. He stared at the red staining his skin for a couple of seconds before putting the file in one of the drawers and getting up to take a drink. He cleaned his hand in a napkin while taking the bottle of whisky at the same time a knock could be heard on the door.

“Yes?” Lizzie opened the door, standing there to announce.

“Somebody to see you, Mr Shelby. He says he has come about the position of accounts clerk.”

“Send him in.” Tommy simply said before turning back to pour himself a drink.

“Just through here, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Michael.” There was a hint of surprise in Tommy’s unreadable face, the boy smiled at him but the head of the Peaky Blinders just turned around to go back to his desk while talking. “Vacancy's been filled.”

“Not according to this morning's paper.” Michael had followed him, throwing said newspaper on his desk, right beside the glass of whiskey he had just placed there. The boy sat down on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the piece of furniture while Tommy stared down at him. “At school, I was top of the class in mathematics and I did a night-school course in accountancy at Worcester College.” Tommy takes the glass from the desk and walks around to lean against the shelf behind his chair, observing his cousin talk. “Mum says you've had six different accountant clerks in the last six months. When respectable men see the other things you do, they leave. But I, like Lizzie out there, already know what you do. Mum says you want to be eighty percent legal within two years.”

“Three.”

“I can help. I know both sides and you know you can trust me. I want to help you, Tommy, become legal. Do the right thing. I want to be proud of this family.” The gangster says nothing as he eyes the boy, glass of whisky still untouched in his hand.

“Does Polly know you're here, Michael?”

“I'm eighteen on Friday, I go where I please.” Tommy step forward to the desk, places the glass on it to take the telephone and put it right in front of Michael.

“You phone your mother.” He takes the glass and starts to leave the room but not before saying. “Good luck.” Michael just observes the telephone for a few moments before making the call.

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Esme is at the shop, organizing things to open when a loud knock is heard from the front door.

“We're not open for winnings yet.”

“I'm here to see Thomas Shelby.” A woman says from outside and she rushes to the door to see a beautiful rich woman waiting there. “I have an appointment.”

“Come in.” Esme rushes her inside, taking notice of the car waiting parked on the street. Closing the door behind her and locking it, she hurries up to stop in front of the strange woman that is looking around the shop. After a while, the stranger extends a hand to her, which she does not take.

“May Carleton.”

“Mr. Shelby has his proper meetings in his other office.”

“This was the address that he gave me.”

“He gave you this address?” Esme asked surprised.

“He said it was a gambling den. I told him that I've wanted to see one since I'm always reading about them in the papers. Quite the big scandal in the Telegraph lately.” Rich people, Esme thought, always wanting to see how the peasants live. May noticed that the woman was still analyzing her and became quite uncomfortable. “Anyway, he said that I could come and have a look. And now I feel like a bit of an idiot because I'm early and he's late and I have no idea how to behave.”

“In a gambling den?” There was a hint of mock on her tone, so May decided that the best thing to do was to leave and wait in another place.

“I'll wait in the car.”

“If I open the door again, they'll all want to come in.” Esme made quick work of putting the keys back in her front pocket. “Like flies.” She starts doing her work again before asking to a very uncomfortable May. “So what are you?”

“W-what am I?” May asks, looking around.

“To Thomas?”

“I'm going to train his racehorse for Epsom.” This seemed to take Esme’s attention.

“You know horses?”

“Yes.” May turned to look at the other woman. “You?”

“Born riding. I slept in a manger when I was a baby.”

“I was born riding, too.” May seems almost daydreaming when the door open only for John to come in and slam it shut.

“There's a fucking great Riley parked out there and nobody's watching it.” He seems unaware of the woman’s presence until he stops right in front of her.

“John, this woman says she's training Thomas' horse.” He places the moneybags on the table and take a look at the woman in front of him.

“He's told us a lot about you.”

“Don't know where he is, do you?” May asks, hopeful. There’s a noise coming from the other door and soon Tommy walks in.

“Sorry, I'm late. There was a family matter. Esme, keep it locked up for a minute.”

“Yes, Thomas.”

“I'll show you around.” He says approaching May and nodding for John to leave. “So be my guest.” He leaned into one of the columns, lightening a cigarette while May starts walking around again. “That's my brother Arthur's office. Down there is my brother John's office - that's where we slate the runners and riders.”

“It's so out in the open. What about the police?” She approaches him, curiously.

“What about them?” Tommy answers and May walks to the nearby table, leaning on it and looking directly at him.

“When I drove into Small Heath, I thought I was going to get murdered then I mentioned your name. It was like being escorted to see a king.” The gangster barely acknowledges the comment, changing the subject.

“You came here to get my girl, right?”

“Right.” He walks to the front door and she follows him after taking a last look around.

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“She looks in very good condition, considering she's not been out on the gallops.” Acknowledges May as Curly walks to them with the mare.

“Curly's the best horseman in England.” Charlie says, smiling.

“I have a man called Mickey who'd argue the point.” She walks around Curly to inspect the animal.

“Ah, but Curly here is half horse himself.” Tommy says with a hint of a smile on his face as he pets the horse.

“She's blessed. Very blessed.” It’s visible that Curly is agitated when he makes the observation.

“Well, she's from the best stock.” The woman says coming to stop on his side.

“But I'd rather have a colored pony. Mixed blood is stronger.”

“Not to win the Derby, Curly.” Tommy says to the gentle man.

“Don't like them racing, Tommy, not the way they beat them.” Curly gives the reins to May. “She's all yours.”

“Thank you.” Then he leaves, clearly disturbed.

“He gets sad when one leaves.” Explains Charlie.

“What time is your box van coming?” Tommy asks.

“Midday.” She answers more focused on petting the horse.

“Maybe you've got time to take the lady to the Garrison, show her the spa and the tearooms.” Thomas looks at his uncle and see the clear suggestion in his smirk and tone of voice, but just plays along and so does she.

“I'd like that, why not?” May says, looking at Tommy before they head to the pub.

“I just had it done up. There was a fire.” He walks ahead of her, going behind the counter while she looks around.

“It's…”

“Yep.” He throws the keys in the counter and asks her. “What do you drink?”

“So early, but gin.” May takes off her gloves and sits on one of the chairs close to the bar. Tommy walks around, taking the bottle of gin and a glass, which he places in front of the woman and fills with the drink. “Goodness. With something?”

“Like what?” He asks a little annoyed as if she is saying something that doesn’t make sense.

“Tonic water or…” He starts looking around.

“Hum, we have cordial.” As he opens the bottle to pour it for her, Tommy points to the glass and says. “There's not much room in there but…” He turns around, helping himself a glass of whiskey. “You want to fuck me, Mrs. Carleton?” She swallows the alcohol she had just taken, looking at him surprised by his bluntness. “Perhaps because I… Perhaps because I represent something to you? We should have this conversation before the booze starts talking for us.” He says while lightening another cigarette. She may deny it, but the way he treats it like a business transaction brings something in her that May haven’t felt in a long while.

“You have a horse.”

“Yes, I have a horse.”

“The horse is why I'm here, purely that. And because you're paying me a lot of money to train your horse, that's why I'm here, purely that.” May takes another sip of her drink while he observes her frown swallowing the drink.

“Good. Good. Well, a toast, then.” He raises his glass but she hesitates. “To the horse, to the Derby.”

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

“So is that what you say to women?” She asks placing her glass on the counter and looking at him.

“Only if I don't know what they want.”

“And what if they don't want to fuck?”

“Then life is simpler.”

“You want a simple life?” He scoffs, placing his hands on the counter before answering her, recognizing the real question hidden in her words.

“Do I look like a man who wants a simple life, eh?”

“So what do you want?” May takes the drink and takes a sip. Tommy leans closer to her, resting his elbows into the counter.

“For what I'm paying you, Mrs. Carleton, I want a horse that'll pay out at Epsom on an each-way bet.” She takes the pack of cigars and the matches that he placed on the counter.

“Before I took your account, I did some credit checks on you.” She lights the cigarettes and takes a drag. “Apparently, you don't exist.” Tommy scratches the side of his head with the hand that holds the cigarette.

“My existence is questionable.”

“Gypsies don't like registers.”

“You see, I'm not a Gypsy like you mean.”

“But you did register for France. I also sent your name to the War Office. I have friends there. You won two medals for gallantry.” So he was right, she could be useful to them. Tommy puts his cigarette out on the ashtray before looking at her, seemingly unimpressed.

“Does that really impress you, Mrs. Carleton?”

“Call me May.” The door to the pub opens and Finn comes in, eyeing the woman curiously.

“Charlie says the box van is here.”

“Thank you, Finn.” Tommy says and the boy leaves again.

“You know, I still don't know what you're going to call your horse.” The gangster stops to think for a moment, remembering the little stolen time he had with Daphne a few nights ago - the way she quickly closed the locket when he arrived; the way her hazel eyes analyzed him with the piece between his fingers, never complaining about how he was closer to her than what was considered appropriate; how he still could feel the light pressure of her fingers on his.

“The horse will be called The Secret Locket.”

“The Secret Locket.” May ponders sipping the gin again.

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“I told him he definitely can't take the job. He said: "All right, I'll move to London, then.”. I said, I won't give in to blackmail. No is no." Polly is looking at Tommy from the mirror hanging in the wall while she puts her earrings – he was finishing putting his tie.

“Well that settles it, then. I'll give the job to the other candidate. He's much better qualified anyway.” He says as he puts in his shoulder holster.

“Michael did City And Guilds - six months.” The way she talks says clearly that even when she refuses to accept him doing the job, Polly wants Michael’s achievements recognized.

“Yeah, but he doesn't know racing, Poll.” Thomas takes a bottle from the table and serves his aunt a drink. “He knows horses, but he doesn't know racing. This other boy, he knows racing. He's good. He's a fast learner.” She looks at him distressed, when he hands her the glass.

“What if Michael really leaves?” Polly sits down on one of the armchairs, placing the ashtray and her drink on the coffee table.

“You just got to let him go, Poll. He'll get a job in an office in London. I'm sure he'll write to you.” Tommy gets his jacket in the clothes rack, putting it on.

“He made a big speech about wanting to help you build up a respectable business. Oh, he's like his dad, he could make me cry.”

“There are trains to London.”

“So I just let him leave?” Her tone is incredulous.

“Every month or so he'd be back.” Thomas takes the cigarette from the ashtray to take a drag. “Unless of course he meets a girl. Then, who knows?”

“Oh, my God. You want him to do this job.” The older woman looks at him quizzically.

“Polly, I want what you want.” Polly knows him well enough to recognize what he is doing, the tone of his voice, the way he looks at her. It’s not very common for Thomas Shelby don’t get what he wants. She gets up, drink and cigarette in hand.

“What about this other more qualified candidate?”

“Mmm, well, I lied, there isn't one.”

“How much are you paying?” There is a hint of a smile in his face.

“The advertised rate.”

“Like hell.”

“Three bob.”

“Like hell.”

“Three and six.”

“Four.” He gives in.

“Four it is.” She spits on her hand and extends it to him, to seal the deal. Tommy does the same.

“I love him, Tom.” Polly looks at him, her expression serious.

“I know. That's why I'll keep him away from the old business, put him charge of the new. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He helps her put her coat on and walks to the door but she stops him. “One more thing before we leave.

“What is it?” He asks with a frown.

“The woman.” Polly intentionally throws the bait to see if he is going to bite - and he does.

“What about Daphne?”

“She hides something.” He was not the only one who noticed how she the young woman seemed to have a habit of playing with the locket hanging from her neck when she was distracted or when somebody mentioned family matters. But it wasn’t just that. Polly had seen the hurt in her eyes, like something had been broken inside of her - she was all smiles and pleasantries with everybody but she held a sadness rooted deep down on her, something that she kept from the outside world, something that the gipsy woman was used to see in her own nephew after the war.

“I know. I’m already working on discovering it.”

“Do you want to discover it because of the business or there are other interests at stake?” He scoffs before answering her.

“Polly…”

“Thomas. You are a smart man. You’ve already been fooled by love once…”

“It’s not like that.” The way he punctuates every word just confirms her suspicious even more – he is, indeed, falling for the girl.

“Yes, it is. I see it in your eyes and I saw it in hers.” He looks at her them, a little surprised by the revelation. “I said that you had to forget the barmaid, that there would be others. You’ve been sleeping around since them but now you have to have in mind that she’s not some common woman, Thomas. She is under Solomons’s protection and you have to have that in mind before you let your cock take your decisions for you.”

Tags: @stressedandbandobessed7771​

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