#that has SO MUCH potential. and yet. look at them in canon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alavestineneas · 5 months

Text

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion.

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way.

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her.

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better.

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle.

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago.

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life.

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less.

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns.

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet.

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation.

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine.

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us."

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin.

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep.

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?"

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on."

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?"

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?"

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners.

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist.

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position."

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

"Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student."

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration.

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own."

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else.

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception.

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man.

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out?

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table.

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake.

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving.

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense."

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her.

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success?

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful.

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish.

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.''

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air."

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit.

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her.

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time.

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring.

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath.

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

2K notes · View notes

earthtooz · 2 months

Text

in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.

cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love

a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy

Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.

It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.

Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?

A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.

When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks.

You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.

There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship.

“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now.

Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.”

Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)

He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.

“What did I do?”

From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you.

The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.

He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.

This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack.

“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”

He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.

Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.

“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”

Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”

With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.

“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.”

Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.

Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up.

“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”

“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”

“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!”

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.

You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.

“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”

“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”

“Then, does that mean you can join us?”

“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”

“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.

The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.

You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does.

“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”

#CUTIE KAZUHA :((#earthtooz: genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff

933 notes · View notes

autistichalsin · 3 months

Text

My "Halsin is Silvanus's Chosen and Thaniel is Silvanus's son" theory

So first off, there's definitely precedent for children of gods here, what with Dame Aylin.

Thematically it would make sense. Aylin is tied in with the Shadow Curse plot, the daughter of Selune held hostage in a Sharran temple, while Thaniel, if my theory held true, would be the son of Silvanus, kidnapped by Sharrans and forced into the Shadowfell. Aylin had to be saved by Shadowheart, and Thaniel had to be saved by Halsin. Thaniel and Oliver are even explicitly said to be immortal as nature spirits, much like how Aylin is immortal to anything but Shar's spear. The comparisons would just be too perfect, thematically.

Thaniel was Halsin's first friend, as he mentioned. Of course it's fitting that nature was Halsin's first friend, and that wanting to protect him drove him to become a furious guardian of nature itself. But wouldn't it be even MORE fitting if Thaniel was also the son of nature? If either Silvanus guided them towards each other, or Thaniel told his father about Halsin and his potential, drawing Silvanus's attention to the man he'll one day make his Chosen?

Thaniel even looks like he could be Silvanus's- Silvanus has a deep affinity for deer, to the point that one of his three main humanoid forms he takes has deer antlers. Just like how Thaniel has tiny little deer horns! And where does Thaniel live? The Western Heartlands, which were once called the Hartlands because of the abundance of deer.

As for Halsin being Silvanus's Chosen? I feel like that one is a lot more easy to see than the Thaniel one. Halsin is an extremely powerful Druid with even deeper ties to nature than even most other Druids. He was the only one with the power (and, if we still count the explanation in Early Access as canon, the wisdom, understanding, and empathy with the sufferers of the curse, both the land and its inhabitants) to break the Shadow Curse. Halsin explicitly has Silvanus's favor; "it took my years of study, of seeking the Oak Father's favor, to find a way to part the veil." Halsin has favor with Silvanus over other Druids, and this was what allowed him to save Thaniel.

It would be thematically fitting yet again- Shar cursed nature, and Thaniel itself, and set Shadowheart to kill Aylin (and if Shadowheart does so, she becomes Shar's Chosen); it would make sense if freeing nature was done by Silvanus's Chosen too, and that's before you add in the fights against the Chosen of the Dead Three and the "Tav is Jergal's Chosen" theory. Then you add that: Shadowheart can turn from Shar back to Selune; Silvanus and Selune are allies; and Halsin's Circle within the Druids is Circle of the Moon. It just fits in so many little thematic ways, tying in the moon/darkness with the land and how Shadowheart has the possibility to either work against the nature god's Chosen as the Chosen of the Goddess of darkness and loss, or as a devotee of the goddess of the moon.

Then there's other little things, like how Halsin is so in tune with his wildshape that he's more bear than elf, and also fiercely protective of children; how he's an incredible healer AND fighter when most under him seem to be one or the other, etc.

And lastly: there's hints in the game that Halsin seems himself as something of a father to Thaniel and Oliver. It would make it extra adorable, then, if Halsin, Chosen of Silvanus, was taking care of Silvanus's sons like a father himself!

#halsin #halsin silverbough #thaniel and oliver #silvanus #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

321 notes · View notes

tizeline · 3 months

Note

What is Draxum's relationships with each of his kids?

I'd assume he's closest to Mikey due to their shared interest in the mystic arts, as well as Mikey's emotional attachment to anyone he considers family 🥰

I find it funny how similar Donnie and Draxum are in cannon and I wonder how that will play out in this AU

The same thing with Leo and Splinter were very similar to each other despite being on opposing sides.

Yeah, I'd say Draxum and Mikey are the closest with each other. Draxum loves all his sons, but he really has a soft spot for Mikey. Mikey in turn is very devoted to Draxum, I've mentioned it before but Mikey's strong desire to do the right thing paired up with a lifetime of his father convincing him that destroying humanity is the right thing has led to Mikey being very determined to fulfill Draxum's plan. Also him being a prodigy with mystic powers leads to him spending a lot of time training his abilites with Draxum.

Raph is basically Draxum's second in command, as the oldest of his brothers he of course is the leader of the team when Draxum isn't the one issuing out orders. Draxum puts a lot of responsibility on Raph, responsibility that Raph very much takes seriously so Draxum as a result also has a lot of trust in him.

Poor Leo is still very much dealing with some intense Middle Child Syndrome here lol. To be clear, Draxum still loves Leo, and vice versa, but Draxum's role as a parent has a tendency to clash with his role as a... what, a military commander? Something along those lines. Listen, he's preparing to lead the yokai into war against the humans, and with his sons on the frontlines he needs to quickly figure out their individual strengths so that can help them evolve their specific skillsets. Mikey has his mystic abilities, Raph has his physical power and Leo.... Well, we know that Leo's expertise lies in his strategic thinking, except neither he nor Draxum has figured that out yet lol. Draxum is the leader, he comes up with the plans, and Raph's in charge otherwise. He doesn't notice Leo's leadership capabilities because he doesn't even think to look for them.

Leo's situation is kinda similar in this AU to what is in canon, where his self-esteem issues caused by him not feeling like he's bringing enough to the team paired up with him being a total Daddy's Boy and craving parental validation that he doesn't feel like he's getting because Draxum is more focused on Leo's brothers so he acts out to get attention and again Draxum's parental duties clashes with his WAR LORD duties or whatever because dammit son I love you but you need to quit goofing off you're a soldier and uh.... yeah...... Leo feeling a bit like the black sheep of his family (hah, sheep, cuz Draxum's a... hah) is another contributing factor to him being the first to turn sides.

And yeah, you make a good point, Donnie being so similar to Draxum vs Leo being so similar to Splinter is.... ooooooo, that's fun, there's so much potential there. Draxum's definitely dissapointed that Donnie's so gifted when it comes to the sciences only for him to be all like "Alchemy??🤨🤨🤨 Mystic science??🤨🤨🤨 That's not scientifically accurate!🤨🤨🤨" and just rejecting almost anything yokai-related.

Actually, Leo reminding Draxum of Splinter has a lot of fun possibilites too. Draxum being all like "Ah, he's just like Lou Jitsu!🤩" while simultaniously being all like "Ugh, he's just like Lou Jitsu...😒"

#Tiz Sep AU #tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt seperated au

258 notes · View notes

a-doubleh-x · 26 days

Text

Why I like Charlastor

The other day I noticed there was some negativity in the Charlastor tag, including antis and people feeling the need to defend against antis, so I thought I might as well take a step back and just write candidly about why I like the ship.

I only got into Hazbin in October of last year, but already it has inspired me a lot to write and fantazise about it. Like most people, I started with the classic "they look cute together", but as I kept looking I couldn't help but think there was something else to these two than first met the eye.

For starters, I love Pollyanas! I think they get a bad rep for being naive, but I just appreciate an optimist like Charlie who just wants to make people around her happy because it makes her happy. I also like bad boys 😳 I'm a pretty heteronormative guy, so I haven't had a big chance to explore that part of myself yet, but I do like the danger and excitement someone like Alastor brings to the table.

I will admit when I started writing Charlastor I felt like I was handling dynomite. It's a lil scary to ship a boundless altruist with a manipulative sociopath, but bear with me.

I think each of them has something the other needs. I think Charlie needs someone to challenge her, someone to steer her in the right direction while she's mostly isolated. At the start of the series, practically nobody but Vaggie takes her seriously, and Alastor is no exception. He mocks her, teases her, but she still listens and I think it's because somewhere deep down she understands there's something he's trting to communicate in his annoying, but curious way.

Of course, I also love the fanon Charlie who's down bad for Alastor, and even if that Charlie is a little naive, I think it's also sweet and she can use some indulgence while most people treat her like a child.

On the other hand, when it comes to Alastor, this is a bit of a theory on my part, but I think he's secretely lonely. He has friends, certainly, like Rosie and Mimzy, but they're not good enough friends to live together with him. They don't seem to be able to save him from "pure, absolute boredom". But Charlie, for some reason can, even though she's a stranger at the beginning when Alastor chooses to move into the Hotel.

Alastor is not as much of a cynic as someone who chooses to see things in a perspective that benefits him. He doesn't think redeeming sinner is "hopeless", but "hilarious" instead, which has interesting implications to me. That's why he chooses to hover around Charlie, not because he thinks she's lame, rather because he thinks she's silly. She makes him laugh. Which I think is kind of how Alastor sees "love".

And then you have fanon Alastor who, depending on the writer, is either a horny animal, a wisecrack edgelord or a soft boy who's mean to everyone but Charlie XD I like several of those interpretations, but I kinda prefer mine just out of personal taste. I think the best part about Alastor is that he doesn't *care* what anyone thinks of him and always does what he wants, even at the expense of other people, which I find pretty enviable.

They're kinda both outcasts in their own ways. Charlie by being unable to fit in and Alastor being unwilling to compromise. But they don't judge each other. He supports her in his own weird way and she houses him and is delighted of him in general, which is tasty food for his ego. I do wonder why Alastor is interested in Charlie, both in canon and in a fandom vacuum.

There's some cool potential for drama there, but also growth and healing, in my opinion. Personally, I think Alastor doesn't want to actually *hurt* Charlie, but he may hurt those around her, which will be a moment to start settling compromises if Charlie puts her foot down.

That haz bin my review so far! I'm honestly pretty grateful for Vivziepop for all of the work she's done so far, I know directing, animating and writing two shows over the course of 5 year or so ain't easy. I'm also grateful to the fandom who shares their thoughts and vision, which calms the terrible voices I started hearing in my head since I bought this weird old radio.

I'm in the middle of a break, but if you're interested in my fanfics I'll get back to writing very soon. Cheers! 🌈❤🦌

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #alastor hazbin hotel #charlastor

160 notes · View notes

aeternallis · 4 months

Text

It may be a bit of a hot take, but imo Kimchay has always been the most insidious of the three canon couples in KPTS, and I just love that for them.

It's deceptively easy at first glance to assume they're the healthiest/softest couple in the show, because at the onset of their relationship, they meet under the best of circumstances when compared to the other two. They don't have any questionable explicit scenes, and their storyline is almost cut off from the intertwining web of the other two couples' storylines.

But with the exception of their first meeting at the open house, every interaction thereafter—no matter how kind Kim acts, whatever feelings he begins to have for Chay, no matter how guilty he looks each time—takes place against the backdrop of Kim's hidden motives and the looming truth of who he is.

It's always been fascinating to me how KimChay stands out against the other two couples, because unlike Porsche and Pete who have the physical prowess to fight off Kinn and Vegas respectively and reinforce the boundaries they have when these hardheaded mafia men disrespects their autonomy, the only thing Chay has going for him in order to reinforce said boundaries is through mental fortitude. Being blunt with Kim about minding his own business, not answering his call, blocking his number...all these things shows the level of self-respect Chay has for himself when he's been wronged.

We the audience knows this, this isn't anything new. What Chay lacks in physical capability, he more than makes up for by that metaphorical spine of steel.

That’s not to say that I’m minimizing what Porsche and Pete went through; all the Theerapanyakul men are underhanded in some form or another. Porsche and Pete too have the capability in talking back through their own mental fortitude; they would have to, considering the lives they’ve lead thus far. But when push comes to shove, these two also have the added fighting capability—earned through a lifetime of hardship and necessity—to stave off the mafia men’s physical aggression, as we see a couple of times in the show. It’s partly through this fighting capability that they earn Kinn and Vegas’s respect, that they learn the hard way that Porsche and Pete won't be bullied so easily.

I cannot stress enough the fact that there is a difference between loving someone and respecting them.

The honesty between KinnPorsche and VegasPete has always had a brutal edge to it; I think it's why they both get a happily ever after (at least where we leave them off in the show), because they've already seen the worst of each other.

But we know that Chay in contrast isn't a fighter, if his immediate reaction to the kidnappers is anything to go by. One would think that this isn't his first rodeo with an attempted attack in his home (loan sharks and all that), and he’d know some self-defense considering who his brother is. Yet still, his instinct was to call for help, as he probably would do the same had Porsche been there with him.

But as we see in the show, Porsche’s overprotectiveness of Chay is to a point that it becomes detrimental to his safety. After all, why hasn't Porsche taught Chay to defend himself, if they've had experience before of getting harassed in their own home?

It's through mental fortitude alone that Chay can perfectly match Kim, because there is no way for this boy to fight off Kim’s aggression in the way Porsche and Pete can with Kinn and Vegas respectively.

And before I go on, I don't think there's any need to argue that Kim would never show or point towards Chay so much aggression, not when he's already done it:

The only reason Kim let go of his hand in this scene so easily is because he was stunned by Chay's antagonism towards him (besides the fact that he was butthurt af when Chay outright calls him out). This scene, along with the scene before it and the bar fight scene, heavily hints at the sort of aggression that Kim is potentially capable of showing/pointing towards Chay. (I wonder what was the stage direction given to Jeff in this scene that Barcode had to yank his wrist back that hard, yknow?)

I'm pretty sure this was partly the point of this scene below; it begs the question of that unknown dimension between the two of them:

But getting back on point: Chay only has his mental fortitude to match Kim and reinforce his boundaries, but even then, it’s not completely foolproof; given enough time, Kim can find ways to disarm Chay, as we see in their final scene together.

And of course it goes without saying, there are moments in the show where it's very obvious Kim truly returns Chay's affections, even moved and inspired by him. But ultimately, even where the audience is left off in terms of where their relationship is at, Kim doesn't respect him—or rather, he doesn't respect the boundaries Chay has drawn in the sand between them.

If Kim had truly respected those boundaries, he would not have reached out the way he did. He would not have reached out with an unknown number, in order to bait Chay into clicking that video link. He would not have used Chay's own song to re-write it into a love song for him.

Because for all of Chay's mental fortitude, in the end, even if Kim himself did not see Chay's reaction to the video, the end result he likely wanted came about: he found a way for Chay to pay attention to him again and more than that--hold that attention, because Chay doesn't delete the video.

Everything this final scene together entailed is arguably calculated on Kim's part. After all, nothing has changed: it happens against the backdrop of Kim's selfish motive. The motive has changed (from getting information on Porsche to getting Chay back/to forgive him), yes—but the nature of it hasn’t.

I think that's what makes Kimchay's relationship the most insidious of the three in my eyes, because despite everything they've been through so far, Kim still doesn't respect Chay's boundaries, not at this stage of their relationship, if ever. Besides that, Kim can and has found ways to counter Chay's strongest asset, to bring his guard down if you will.

And Chay has nothing else he can use against Kim to reinforce his boundaries, not fighting capability and certainly not distance, alas.

There is definitely a level of selfishness in Kim that surpasses the selfishness also inherent in Kinn and Vegas due to their upbringing, yknow?

It's why they hold my attention so much, I think: the sheer potential they have to become the most unhinged couple in this story, and how much I'm drawn to it like a moth a flame~

#kimchay #kinnporche the series #meta #yet again another one #the hyperfixation has yet to let up alas #kpts meta

241 notes · View notes

bookofmirth · 3 months

Text

What could happen to the Prison in acotar5?

As a preview, this post is going to be hella long. It focuses on things we learned primarily on acosf and hofas. It also discusses the Illyrians and the Valkyries, Pegasuses, the 8-pointed star, and the fallout from Avallen being restored by Bryce.

The tl;dr is that I think that the Valkyries (and potentially some Illyrians) could serve as guardians for the Prison, along with being a neutral political force and army in Prythian, not aligned with a specific court but rather being a balance between them all.

Before you proceed, be aware that I tend towards analysis of the current content of the books, not theorizing about what will happen in the future, so this may not read like theories that other people in the fandom come up with. A majority of this is facts from the books, with me tying things together to think about the implications.

Part one: what we know based on HOFAS

First, it's helpful to get some context for what we know (for sure) about the Prison:

It was the land of dusk (not a Court in the way Prythian currently has courts).

After the events with Fionn, Theia, Helena, Silene, and Pelias, the land was mostly abandoned.

When Silene returned from Midgard, she created the Prison in order to hide the Harp, using the monsters she put there to deter anyone from looking for it. Silene decided if this place was seen as cursed, then let it be cursed.

We also find out that Silene left her portion of Theia's light under the Prison, which Bryce then took.

There is also a large cache of firstlight remaining under the Prison.

When Bryce used Truthteller and Gwydion/the Starsword to heal Avallen, Pegasuses appeared again.

Avallen and the Prison are in "thin" spots in the universe that make it easy to travel from one planet to the other (fwiw, this idea is not unique to sjm. See: Stephen King.) These spots are identifiable by the mists that surround them.

These thin spots are also on the nexus of ley lines, where energy flows.

It stands to reason that when Bryce "unlocked" Avallen, the energy and magic that it now experiences will flow to other places along the ley lines, IE the Prison. It's also implied that the land keeping the power imprisoned is one of the reasons it grew sick.

Bryce's actions in hofas have implications for Prythian. While the above is related to the Prison, we also have:

Nesta now has possession of the Starsword/Gwydion

Azriel's reaction to Truthteller and the Starsword being together

The 8-pointed star (more on that later)

Part two: what we know based on ACOSF

So based on this information, we need to go back to acosf and look at what sjm left for us.

The main thing to keep in mind is that Nesta found the Harp in the Prison, and that it was laying on an 8-pointed star.

One of the main dangling threads from acosf - that we know to be canon, that is not a theory or supposition - is that the Illyrians and the Valkyries are going to continue training together. We know that Mor is interested in training with the Valkyries. From hofas, we know that Nesta is every bit as well trained now as she was in the months since acosf.

Now, there are a couple of partially-fulfilled statements from acosf that I think are relevant here, in addition to Valkyries and Illyrians continuing to train.

The first is the wish that Nesta made on the friendship bracelets.

"I wish for us to have the courage to go out into the world when we are ready, but to always be able to find our way back to each other. No matter what." (chp 59)

We know that in the Blood Rite, the second half of that wish was fulfilled. The first half has not been fulfilled yet. That gives us very good reason to assume that the first half will be fulfilled.

All three of them, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn, will go out into the world at some point in the future.

There is another, much larger implication that was made in acosf:

Nesta smirked. “If we are to be Valkyries born again,” she said, “maybe we should combine the Illyrian and Valkyrie techniques.” She’d meant it in jest, but the words rumbled through the space, as if she’d spoken some great truth, something that made fate sit up. Azriel turned to them fully this time, eyes narrowed. Like those shadows had whispered something to him. A chill breathed down Nesta’s spine. Cassian stared into their faces. Like he beheld something he hadn’t seen there before. (chp 44)

And the later on:

Gwyn whispered, “I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. “Nothing can break me.” Cassian’s throat tightened, and even from across the ring, he could see Nesta’s eyes gleaming with pride and pain. Emerie said, “Nothing can break us.” The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed. Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved. (chp 60)

SJM used similar phrasing in the same book for which we know the consequences:

Strike after strike, and Cassian could have sworn the world paused as she unleashed herself with the same intensity she brought to training.

This is when Nesta is Making the weapons, which we find out later is actually a significant moment, not just Cassian being hyperbolic about how great his mate is. Then, when Nesta is using the Mask and Harp to heal Feyre, the world also pauses. This phrasing is used when something important is happening - even if we don't know what the implications are, yet.

Given that we know for sure that the Illyrians and the Valkyries are going to continue training, and there are loose threads because we don't know the implications of fate/the world standing up at Nesta's, Emerie's, and Gwyn's statements and/or actions, there is a very, very good chance that the Valkyries will continue being a big part of acotar.

My final point about the Valkyries is that in myth, they rode horses through the sky - not Pegasuses because those are from Greek myth, and Valkyries are Norse. But they fly through the sky on horses nonetheless. (This is literally the only piece of evidence I have coming from outside the books.) Pegasuses are connected to Avallen and likely the Prison. We know that Helion keeps some, but they are struggling to breed/thrive. (We also know that sjm loves to take what she wants from myth, so it’s not a stretch to think she’d shrug at the Greek/Norse distinction.)

All of this together tells me that the Valkyries have more story coming, and it is connected to the Illyrians'.

Part three: The 8-pointed star

A common thread between both series is the 8-pointed star. There are a few ways in which it is used:

Nesta and Cassian's bargain tattoo in acosf. They both had this tattoo on them - an Illyrian and a Valkyrie.

Bryce also has the 8-pointed star on her chest that glows when she is near people who will aid her or who are part of the Starborn line. When she took the piece of Theia's light, it went into her star and powered her up.

The Harp was resting on an 8-pointed star in the Prison, where Silene left it.

In HOFAS, Bryce put Truthteller and Gwydion into the slots of an 8-pointed star in order to revive Avallen.

When training, Cassian teaches the Valkyries the 8-pointed star sequence. This is a series of moves that they make with a sword, and is an Illyrian technique.

Cassian walked her through eight different cuts and blocks. Each was an individual move, he’d explained, and like the punches, they could be combined. (chp 38) “I’d thought today would be a good day to integrate the eight-pointed star, but if you’re already complaining, we can wait until next week.” (chp 44) Nesta lifted the sword and executed a perfect arcing slash. Her weight shifted to her legs just as she flipped the blade, leading with the hilt, and brought up her arm against an invisible blow. Another shift and the sword swept down, a brutal slash that would have sliced an opponent in half. Each slice was perfect. Like that eight-pointed star was stamped on her very heart. (chp 50)

And finally, at the end of HOFAS, Bryce gives Gwydion to Nesta and tells her to explore the 8-pointed star:

“I think that eight-pointed star was tattooed on you for a reason. Take that sword and go figure out why.”

Note that it’s not just a matter of the star, anymore. Both Cassian and Nesta were tattooed with it; Bryce used Gwydion and Truthteller to activate the star in Avallen. And now, Nesta is in possession of Gwydion with knowledge about the Prison and a connection to the star. There are elements coming together, and those elements are connected to both Illyrians AND Valkyries.

My thinking is that the 8-pointed star is the symbol of the dusk land, the Starborn Princes in Midgard (Theia) and in Prythian, of the first and only High King. If that land is where the Valkyries will be reborn and where Starborn power is from, and we know it is the source of a huge cache of firstlight, then that star is a symbol of what has been lost - and what is about to be revived.

So now the question is - what part will the Valkyries and Illyrians play?

Part four: What might happen to the Prison?

To sum up the above, and adding on a couple of small points that don’t fit elsewhere:

We know that the Illyrians and Valkyries will continue training

We have very heavy-handed phrasing around the world/fate paying attention to the idea of the Valkyries being reborn and working with Illyrians.

We have the connection between Valkyries, Illyrians, and the 8-pointed star because it is also an Illyrian sword technique that is being taught to the Valkyries.

We know that the Prison is going to go through some changes akin to puberty.

In addition, we have Gwyn being allowed to write the Valkyries into the books she is researching.

SJM has also said that Nesta’s story is going to continue.

Since we know that the Prison is going to change and there are these characters and groups poised for action - I haven’t even touched on Ramiel and the Illyrians being created by the Dagsteri, Azriel and his connection to Truthteller and Enalius, and his reaction to the TT/Gwydion, and will do that in a separate post - we can make some predictions about how that might look. If it’s going to make sense, sjm has to think beyond the magic system that she has… sort-of established, and past the involvement of individual characters. There are a few things to take into consideration with the Prison.

It is very likely that Pegasuses will return to the island as it is suffused with magic and energy again.

There are also other, unforeseen magical consequences as the magic flows back into it, thanks to the ley lines being “unblocked” by Bryce.

It may become easier for people/creatures to travel between worlds, given that it is a thin place that has been "unlocked".

The Prison is still full of prisoners! They are monsters that Silene gathered to hide the Harp, but... does that mean they just get released? Get slaughtered? Do they now have access to the power of the island? What is going to happen with them?

The High Lords cannot all be trusted to stay within their own courts, minding their own business. Beron is the most obvious example, as he has his eye on Spring while Tamlin is Suffering.

If there were another court established, one that sits on a huge reserve of firstlight, that could be a huge point of contention amongst the courts. Even if the High Lords don’t want it for themselves, they wouldn’t want anyone else to have it on the chance that one of them would use it against the others. In acomaf, Rhys explains that the Prison is keyed to his blood and that he has jurisdiction of it; however:

“Do all the High Lords have access?” My words were so soft they were devoured by the dark. Even that thrumming power in my veins had vanished, burrowing somewhere in my bones. “No. The Prison is law unto itself; the island may be even an eighth court. But it falls under my jurisdiction, and my blood is keyed to the gates.” (chp 18)

We don’t know yet what that reserve of firstlight is going to mean for the island.

To me, it makes sense for us to have a more neutral third party come in. One who doesn’t have ties to a specific court, but could act in all of their interests.

Enter: the newly reformed Valkyries.

I have had a personal headcanon that the Valkyries, once fully established, could create another political/martial entity in Prythian that can help balance the power between all the courts, and provide support when needed. This is how they worked before, which Cassian talks about in acosf:

“The Valkyries fought when even the bravest males would not. The Illyrians tried to forget that. I fought against males who were my superiors, arguing to help the Valkyries. They beat me senseless, chained me to a supply wagon, and left me there. When I came to, the battle was over, the Valkyries slain.”

Valkyries and Illyrians don’t have the best history, but given that Cassian tried to help them, and that they are working together now, this could be a way of righting a wrong. It could help to explain why fate/the world is taking note.

The Valkyrie ethos makes sense for this sort of neutral position, too:

“A clan of female warriors from another territory. They were better fighters than the Illyrians, even. The Valkyrie name was just a title, though—they weren’t a race like the Illyrians. They hailed from every type of Fae, usually recruited from birth or early childhood. They had three stages of training: Novice, Blade, and finally Valkyrie. To become one was the highest honor in their land. Their territory is gone now, subsumed into others.”

An improved Valkyrie force, especially if they continue learning Illyrian techniques and recruiting from women across Prythian, could be a big factor in upcoming conflicts with Kochei or any other villain sjm comes up with. They would ensure that the firstlight would be used fairly, so that no court is advantaged or disadvantaged unfairly. It would continue the threads that sjm has left for us, while also giving us space to explore questions that have yet to be answered (such as Azriel’s connection to Truthteller and Enalius). While I think that Nesta would keep her home in the House of Wind, the Prison island would be a good place from which the Valkyries can work - both guarding the monsters that are there, and keeping the firstlight safe.

I believe that Nesta will be the most important character when it comes to reviving the island; while it is heavily implied that the island is already going to have access to its powers thanks to being impacted by Avallen's healing - it is likely already on its way to healing - Nesta with her connection to the 8-pointed star, the Harp, possession of Gwydion, and the Valkyries can help bring stability to the place.

Thank you a million times to the people who helped me fact check and keep things straight, or just listened to me rant about this: @hellacioushag @lily-thesuriel @elains @aionuel @yazthebookish @fracturedarkness and @/michaelanoelreads on TikTok :) @highqueenmorrigan (Mary I forgot you brought up the sword technique thank you for that!)

#hofas #hofas spoilers #acotar/cc #spoilers #Leslie reads hofas #my meta #kinda meta kinda theory #whatever!#the valkyries #acotar5

255 notes · View notes

asmallmoon333 · 30 days

Text

Another Death Note AU I love to think about: Fem!Light x Male!L.

I adore these two in any form, but the potential of this dynamic in particular had me thinking plots that had my brain noodles excited since way back when I was in the middle of writing Time Speaks.

Now, L's gender wouldn't change anything about him, not really, but Light? Oh, it would be a whole new act for her to put on. And with L still male, it ensures it's not just a repeat of canon, but a whole new exploration of their characters, their dynamic, and the world they live in.

So in this AU, we have a Light Yagami who grew up in a society that told her she was lesser. That implied her gender was predictive of her place and abilities. But she wouldn't actually have a lot of anger about her gender I feel, since that goes against her natural feelings of superiority based on her intellect, so she'd just see it as the world being wrong as usual (rotten, if you will). She would look down on men for how easy they were to manipulate; not that anyone else would ever see these thoughts. Except Sayu, who Light raises with care.

Now, while said world would make it harder for her to rise up, Light is someone who gets what she wants and thrives on a challenge. She would use gender as her stepping stone, playing the "good girl" role to perfection.

And she'd be so very good at it. A much better manipulator than male Light.

Now, when she gets the Death Note, the story goes about the same at the start because Light Yagami is Light Yagami regardless.

Then in comes L, the first person who bested her, the first person she hates, and the plot changes. L is the only person, the only man, who looks at her and sees Kira. The only man who is deadpanned and blank to her "good girl" act and meets her provocation for provocation. Infuriating her every time they meet simply by being as smart as she is. By looking at her pointedly crossed arms, at her 'casual' forward-leaning posture, at her inviting smile--and blandly asking if her back hurts like his sometimes does.

How dare he.

How dare he see and value and fear her for her intelligence? He is certain she is Kira despite how aghast every other man and woman in her life is about the very idea of it.

They call L mad. Sexist. He ignores them and insists he's right, that no one else could be Kira but Light. That she's perfect.

And Light? She hates him for seeing through her. He scares her right back.

But she also can't stop herself from craving the acknowledgement.

The game between them would be so different and yet just as complicated this time, because while the two of them don't care about gender, they know this about each other, the rest of the world is not at their level and can't stop their bias about it. And Light uses that to her advantage; Kira will use any shield.

While L will do his best to strip her bare of all her lies.

So Light plays with the world's perceptions of womanhood in her war against L, using her 'weak' gender and 'need for protection' to manipulate the police against him. While L continues to pursue his Kira with a single-minded focus and certainty. He knows it's her.

But now he has to work even harder to prove it because no one is willing to listen to him. He has no proof, and in this universe, that means a lot more to the task force.

Light is smug about this, internally of course. She sweetly tells him to give up and start looking for the 'real' Kira.

L blinks at her and says he'll give up when she stops being a serial killer.

Light hates him.

But she also can't stop thinking about him. She can't stop revelling in how he sees her like no one else was ever willing to. And she eventually decides that she'll get him to give into her too, like she's gotten everyone else in her life. She'll make him admit he wants her, too. That he's human just like they all are, that he has feelings. (Just like she does).

She'll give him her attention in a way no one else has ever deserved. And L better appreciate it.

And after that? She'll kill him, of course.

She's Kira. She's pitiless. She plays to win.

But she might as well...enjoy L while he's here.

He's the only one she'd ever want to have in that way.

As for L? Well he's more than willing to play along, in any and all ways Light wants. He's seen her from the start, seen Kira behind her sweet smile, and he's entranced by her as always. He'd want her in any form, and gender is just one more tool of the brilliant mind he'll always be obsessed with, in any universe.

And he's absolutely thrilled at this game.

So, yeah!! I love this AU and one day, I'll write it, but for now thank you to the amazing artist @thanatelle who inspired these current thoughts! His work is so good <3

Fem!Light and Male!L are so very fun.

#death note #light yagami #l lawliet #lawlight #Fem!Light Yagami

118 notes · View notes

lgbtlunaverse · 6 months

Text

A slightly unhinged case for jin guangyao knowing about the core transfer while WWX was still alive

Ok. SO. In chapter 101, during guangyin temple, Jin Guangyao clearly knows about the golden core transfer. He uses it to bring Jiang Cheng off-kilter and stab him and simultaneously reveals to wwx that jc himself now knows about the golden core transfer.

I've always wondered exactly when he figured it out. The most obvious explanation is that he pieced it together after hearing about Jiang Cheng asking everyone to unsheathe suibian (also? jgy? how the fuck do you know that? You were already going to/at Guanyin temple at this point! Did you just have people listen in on rumours from Yunmeng and report back to you for that?? Did you tell your spy network where you were going? My whole kingdom for a retelling of this arc from the pov of these random jin disciples seeing their sect leader start spiralling. He's diggin up random tombs? Fleeing the country? And threatening the heir's life?? What was random Jin cultivator #6 thinking of this before Nie Mingjue turned him into minced meat?)

BUT.

The first time I read that line I was like "oh so he's known for a WHILE." I mean, the line "I've always found it peculiar [that wwx never took his sword anywhere]" does indicate he's been thinking about this for a while, but it doesn't have to mean he knew back then. So I absolutely can't say with certainty that my instinct was right. But I DO have some decent canon backing for how he might have potentially figured things out as early as before Wei Wuxian's death. Specifically, after the discussion scene that takens place when wei wuxian does his thing with the wens and dissapears.

Cause, see, Wen Chao would definitely have bragged about Wen Zhuliu crushing Jiang Cheng's core to his father. He killed the current sect leader, and then permanently disabled the only heir. He did it! the Jiang are gone! I bet he was very loud about it until, a few weeks later, Jiang Cheng suddenly strolls up to the battlefield, with Zidian on his finger, cultivation very much intact, looking for Wei Wuxian.

That must've been fucking baffling if you were Wen Chao and/or Wen Zhuliu and/or any other cultivator who was there and definitely saw Jiang Cheng's core get crushed. They must have assumed something went wrong, or he faked having his core destroyed, but we've never heard of something like that happening before, and they tortured him for hours! It wasn't a quick batle where Wen Zhuliu must have missed in haste, he would've noticed!

Now, by the time Meng yao arrives, wen zhuliu and wen chao are both long dead, but that kind of thing would at least still be a source of gossip among the other Wen. The only time the core melting hand ever failed!

It might be something that, say... a very careful spy with a perfect memory looking for information... might pick up on in his stay with the Wen, no?

So, Meng Yao has heard the rumour that sect leader Jiang got his core crushed but somehow managed to... still have a core.

Independantly of his, Wei Wuxian is being really weird and refusing to carry his sword. His primary concern there is wwx stirring shit up, he has no reason to believe these things are connected yet.

But then Wei Wuxian runs off with a bunch of Wen, and before he is cut off, Jiang Cheng tells everyone that after the siege on lotus pier, he and wei wuxian were helped by Wen Qing and Wen Ning! Jiang Cheng doesn't get to say how, which is good for jgy in this moment because he's trying to steer the conversation as such that no one gets mad at the Jin sect for all the war crimes, but even if his goal is for everyone else to forget Jiang Cheng said that, he'd remember it.

So... after the moment where jiang cheng, according to rumours that were contained to the wen, lost his core, he was helped by wen ning and wen qing, who is a really good doctor. And, in canon, had written theoretical proposals on core transfers before, just never experimented on them. Were these available for others among the Wen to read? Did jgy read them? We have no way of knowing. But if he did, he remembers them. Either way, he knows her reputation.

And Wei Wuxian disappeared right round that same moment, only to resurface with his demonic cultivation, at which point he never touched his sword again. Not even in the middle of a dangerous war. Not even when he was public enemy number one and it would do wonders for his reputation if he was seen cultivating the traditional path. When doing so would have made not just him but the 50 people he was shielding safer! if Jin guangyao was somehow in his position, he'd immediately do everything he could to counteract the narrative of beign a dangerous madman who'd left the straight path. Wei Wuxian has been in absolutely desperate situations and still refuses to pick up his sword...

The saying doesn't exist yet, but i'm sure someone like jgy, more competent than everyone around him, is intimately familair with at least the sentiment of "never ascribe to malice what is adequately explained by incompetence" He is helping spread the narrative of Wei Wuxian as a violent madman, sure, but does he believe it? If it makes no sense for wei wuxian, no longer a privileged young master but an outcast, to not pick up his sword again out of arrogancy, the most reliable explanation is that he... can't.

So Jiang Cheng, who got his core melted, got help from Wen Qing, an incredible doctor, after which he coud cultivate just fine but Wei Wuxian, no matter how desperate, never used traditional cultivation ever again...

Hm. interesting!

It's likely no one else in the jianghu outside of the wen even knew Jiang Cheng lost his core to begin with. And Jin Guangyao was never given wwx's excuse of Baoshan Sanren owing him a favor like Jiang Cheng was. He has all the puzzle pieces in front of him and... if anyone as gonna put them together, it'd be him.

And that's my unhinged case for why I believe Jin Guangyao knew Wei Wuxian didn't have a golden core anymore years before anyone else did. He just never told anyone, because why would he?

I think this adds a whole other level to his speech to Jiang Cheng about how everything could've worked out if he'd just trusted Wei Wuxian more and stood by his side. He saw it all play out in real time knowing there was more going on beneath the surface!

Now the really interesting question becomes: When did he figure out Jiang Cheng himself wasn't in on it? Did he piece it together immediately from remembering seeing jiang cheng berate wwx for not carrying a sword, a thing he should've known he couldn't do? Or was it not until later, maybe the fake yunmeng bros fallout, or the REAL fallout when Jiang Yanli died? Or was it still the news of Jiang Cheng going around and asking everyone to unsheathe subian that made him realize that oh my god this stupid bitch had no idea the whole time.

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #wei wuxian #wen qing #jiang cheng #mdzs headcanons #mdzs meta #<- tagging both cause it's like... in between #i don't think this is clear-cut canon i'm theorising but i'm also not just throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks #i am looking at the wall very carefully to see what places are the stickiest #the concept jgy thinking jc just. let wwx put his core in him and then didn't protect him from the fallout.#would really color their relationship like he would not show it but ohhhh there'd be resentment there!#yeah no sect leader jiang he's NOT letting jin ling go alone on a nighthunt with you he might not get back with all his organs intact!#i do think it's more likely he did at some point realize jc had no idea tho

301 notes · View notes

that-sarcastic-writer · 1 year

Text

You Know Who To Call (Billy Russo)

Pairing: Billy Russo X F!Reader

Summary: You went on a date hoping to forget him, but Billy was right there to remind you who to call

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pls wrap it), p in v, creampie dom!Billy, Billy canonically likes it rough, possesive!Billy, protective!Billy, jealousy (both of them) choking, bit of breath play, dirty talk, language

WC: 3.5k yall are already used to it

A/N: why my horny ass decided to write this knowing damn well itll flop I've not fucking idea, all I know is that that manipulative borderline psychotic and homicidal fuck can fuck me six ways till sunday so, I wrote it. Might write more, Billy has a lot of potential. So if you're one of two people are reading this, enjoy :)

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

You really should’ve known better than to come to the one bar you knew he often went to. Especially when you were then with another man, on a date. But in your defense, you never talked about being exclusive. You were pretty damn sure he was fucking anyone he could get his hands on, and with a face like his, that wouldn’t be too difficult.

Or so you thought. Billy Russo was a complicated man, and you were yet to realize just how much.

You knew you were setting yourself up for failure the second you said yes to this man’s advances, knowing that BIlly was the only man in your mind. But you wanted to force yourself to move on, and have other options. Oh how mistaken you were. The second this man opened his mouth you were already regretting your decision. It began with him judging your choice of drink, saying something along the lines of 'I thought pretty women could only handle cheap wine' and it just went downhill from there.

You were constantly checking your phone, wishing time went faster, so you could at least say you stayed long enough to be able to leave without seeming rude. To say that your night was going to end rather disappointedly was an understatement. Maybe an hour went by when you were standing up, excusing yourself with the reason of having to be up early due to prior plans. And you thought that was it.

“Hey, the night doesn’t have to end so soon. We can head back to my place if you just want to get out of here.” And there it was. He stood up as well, crowding you in an instant, getting all up in your space to block you from leaving.

“I really can’t. Listen,” You took a step back to give yourself some room, “You seem like a great guy, but I’m not really feeling this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He scoffed in disbelief, his face slightly twisting with hints of anger as he stepped forward again, making you take another step back, “You led me on all night, made me buy you drinks and all you have to say is you’re sorry?”

“Listen, I wasn’t leading you on. And I didn’t ask you to buy me anything, you insisted,” You stared at him with disbelief, baffled that he would feel so entitled, “Just because I agreed to going out with you doesn’t mean you get to take me home.”

“Well I’m getting something, you can’t just leave me like this.”

You were already done with tonight, and you didn’t want to hear anymore of this. You simply shook your head and started to walk past him towards the exit, but he grabbed your arm with a grip so tight you audibly winced.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me you bitch.” He spat, pulling your body against his with a forceful grip on both of your arms. You groaned in distaste, turned your head away from him and shoved at his chest, but he didn’t let you go.

“Get the fuck off me.” You said loudly, tugging your arms against his grip, but his grip only tightened. You were about to start screaming when you felt a tug on your shoulder, your date letting you go so suddenly you stumbled back, right into someone’s chest.

“Get your fuckin' hands off her.” Oh.

You were confused, not quite registering what had just happened. Your date looked both confused and angry, but not at you, but at whoever just pulled you to his chest. And you only realized when you heard the man behind you speak. You would recognize his voice anywhere.

“Billy what—” You turned your head back to look up at him, your back still to his chest as he held your arm now. His dark eyes only met yours for just a second in acknowledgement, and oh he was pissed. He tore his eyes away from yours to look at your date, jaw tight and back straight as he stood behind you, like he was marking territory.

“Who the fuck are you man?” You date asked, anger lacing his words, but he didn’t dare move.

“Me?” Billy grinned slightly, his head twitching ever so slightly as he moved past you, his arm brushing your shoulder as he now stood in front of you, an arm behind his back as you gripped his hand tightly, preventing him from standing any closer to your date, “I’m just the guy that's gonna drag your face across the pavement if you ever get anywhere near her again.”

“Billy.” You said softly, you knew he heard you, but he otherwise ignored you.

Your date stood with both a shocked and angry look on his face, but he said nothing. Billy was a good half a head taller than your date, and he wasn’t a man you’d want to get into a bar fight with.

“Get the fuck outta here before I break your jaw.” You squeezed your eyes shut at Billy’s words, you knew he could get physical pretty quickly, and the last thing you needed tonight was to have to pull him out of a fist fight.

Your date stared at Billy for a long time, but he didn’t move a muscle, like they were doing this silent macho thing, see who backed out first. And Billy wasn’t exactly a man known for backing down easily. Your date ultimately surrendered, scoffing loudly as he shook his head.

“You can have her man. I didn’t even want to fuck that whore anyway.” He mumbled under his breath as he turned to walk. But Billy definitely caught his words, and with a clench of his jaw he lunged forward, mostly likely to slam your date’s face into a table, but you held him back, tugging his hand.

“Billy, hey.” You said his name loud enough to get his attention. He was facing you now, his hand coming to touch your face as he made sure you were okay. You said nothing, only taking a deep breath when you felt his touch. And it made you forget why you even considered sleeping with anyone else in the first place.

“C’mon,” Were the first words out of his mouth, his dark eyes locking with yours for a second before he was dragging you out of the bar by your arm. You sputtered, saying his name in protest but you never actually made any effort to stop him. He shot you a look of irritation regardless.

“Get in the car. Now.”

“I’m not getting in your car Billy.” You argued when he stopped in front of his car. He stared at you, and you simply folded your arms over your chest, giving him a defiant look that made his eye twitch.

He said nothing as he looked around him for a second, making sure no bystanders were walking by to get the wrong impression of what was going on. Then, he stepped forward making you back right into the side of his car, and one hand came to rest flat against the car door, trapping you between his much taller frame and his car. You took a sharp inhale when he leaned down and you jumped when his other hand grabbed the back of your neck.

“I’m not gonna say it again darlin’. Get. In the fuckin’. Car.” He emphasized every word, his nearly black eyes not once leaving your face he spoke. You swallowed hard, inhaling shakily when he forcibly moved you, his hand still on the back of your neck as he opened the passenger’s door.

You don’t think you’ve ever moved so fast in your entire life. You were sitting in his car faster than your brain could process it. Well so much for wanting to move.

It was like you were on autopilot, you walked right into his penthouse like so many times before. Only that this time, it wasn’t exactly all fun and games. You heard Billy slam the door shut behind him. You took a deep uneven breath, preparing yourself for the screaming match that was going to ensue before you turned around to face him. He was standing in front of you in three long strides, and you’d be lying if you said that the sight of him this angry didn't make you rub your thighs together a bit.

“You know that wasn’t necessary right? I didn’t need saving, and I definitely didn’t need you to bring me to your apartment.” You spoke first, but clearly, judging by the way his face twisted, it must’ve been a mistake.

“You shitting me? Of course it was necessary. You see the way he was grabbing you? Like he thought he owned you or somethin’.” He huffed, shaking his head at you.

“Sound familiar?”

He stared at you with confusion for a second, then he rolled his eyes at you, “That’s different and you know it.”

“Oh really? Tell me Billy, how is it different?” You asked rhetorically, hands on your hips and head tilted as you looked at him.

He shook his head, eyes not meeting yours now, “I just don’t know why you went out with some asshole, what were you fuckin’ thinkin’?”

You laughed dryly, running a hand over your face in disbelief, “What was I thinking? Well I don’t know, I just wanted to have fun with someone, see someone.” You caught the way his eyes flickered over to you again, and you could see the anger begin to flicker in his eyes, so you continued, “I mean, you’ve been doing it. You’ve been fucking Dinah Madani for weeks, so I thought I would fuck someone else too.”

Confusion and disbelief flashed over his face, his eyebrow furrowing as he ran a hand through his black strands as he tried to process the words that had just left your mouth, “What? I haven’t—” He laughed dryly and shook his head at your stupidity, “I haven’t fucked Dinah Madani. And I wasn’t gonna.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, face twisting with confusion and your lips parted as you tried to speak, “Billy, I saw you at the bar with her last weekend, I’m not fucking stupid.”

“Yes, I had a few drinks with her a couple times, and she did some training at Anvil, but I never fucked her.” He explained, sighing with irritation like he was explaining something to a petulant child, “I just needed some information from her, that was all.”

You didn’t even know what to say, you felt stupid, and a bit angry at yourself for acting without thinking of even asking him what had really happened. Because despite your confusing and unlabeled relationship, you had no secrets, and you told each other everything. You laughed in disbelief at yourself, leaning your face into your hand as you shook your head. Billy grinned softly, knowing he had gotten through to you. He stepped forward, pulling you to his chest by your arms. You looked up at him, lips pulled into a defeated pout that he leaned down to kiss softly.

“We still have a problem though.” He said as he pulled back. You frowned softly.

“What?”

“That you, darlin’, need to be reminded that if you wanted to be fucked, it has to be done properly,” His hand gripped your jaw, his long fingers sprawling over your neck as he held your face, “And if you want it done properly, you call me.”

His mouth was on yours before you could reply, his hand holding your face in place as he slipped his tongue. You whined softly as your hands found his perfectly slicked back hair, and certainly tugged it out of place. You didn’t know exactly when he hoisted you up on his waist, or when he carried you to his bedroom. But you did notice when he unceremoniously tossed you on his bed, your back hitting the mattress with a thud. You took a deep breath as you leaned on your elbows, watching as he pulled his burgundy jumper over his head, his jeans following the same fate on the floor before he was crawling over you. He crashed his lips against yours again as his hand lifted your dress over your hips. His thigh settled between your thighs and he brushed it against your clothed clit, making you gasp softly.

“Please Billy.” You said breathless, looking up at him with pleading eyes. His lips tugged into a smirk, thoroughly pleased by your begging.

“You want me to fill you up baby? Want me to fuck you into this mattess ‘til you forget how to talk to other guys?” He said into your ear, words coated with arousal as he ran a hand over your thigh, fingers squeezing your skin.

You nodded quickly.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

You swallowed thickly and took a deep breath as you tried to speak, his almost black eyes staring at you so deeply that you knocked the air right out of your lungs, “Please Billy. Please fuck me, I need you.”

The growl that rang in his throat was nearly animalistic, and he was flipping you over on your stomach in a matter of seconds. You gasped softly when your face hit the mattress and your arms were stretched out in front of you. Billy sat back on his knees behind you, one hand pulling your dress the rest of the way over your head, while the other tore your panties down your thighs. He took in the sight of you, all sprawled out in front of him, ass out and ready to let him take you as he pleased. He’d be lying if he said the sight didn’t shoot straight to his cock.

He spat on two fingers and without a prior warning, he pressed them against you, spreading the wetness over your clit. You gasped softly, the sound slowly turning into a quiet mewl as he drew quick circles over your clit. Though the sound quickly turned into a choked out cry when two long fingers slipped into your dripping core.

“Ooh fuck Billy,” You whimpered softly, your hands clenching the sheets as his fingers filled you.

He took in your sounds happily as he pumped his fingers gradually quicker. He buried them knuckle deep each time he slammed them into you, your whimpers quickly turning into moans. He scissored them open with each snap of his wrist, your core soaking the palm of his hand. He could feel it too, the way your walls tightened around his fingers, the way your thighs shuddered and your toes curled. And he had you coming all over his hand the second his fingers curled against that one spot that made you see white. His fingers slowed as you shook violently, and only then he pulled his fingers out. He left you empty so suddenly you lifted your head to look at him over your shoulder. You caught him sucking on his fingers with closed eyes for a long second, and the sight made you clench around nothing.

His eyes quickly opened to yours and he smirked as he tugged his boxer briefs down and kicked them behind him to join the rest of his clothes. He then leaned forward, taking himself in his hand as he positioned himself behind you. He rubbed the head of his cock through your folds a couple of times, coating himself in your slick. You whimpered again, your head falling forward as his name fell from your lips. He gave you a hum of acknowledgement and leaned over you, one hand pushed your head down against the mattress as the other lined up his cock at your entrance. Just as you whined at his forceful action he filled you, burying himself to the hilt with one snap of his hips. Your whine turned into a cry and your hand fisted the sheets as pleasure filled your body.

Billy gave a breathy groan of satisfaction as your walls clenched around him. He held the back of your neck, making sure you kept your head down while the other gripped your hip, holding you perfectly in place as he drew his hips back, pulling almost all the way out before he snapped his hips forward. And again, and again until he was fucking you into the mattress, and it was anything but gentle.

Your whines quickly turned into moans and muffled cries, and Billy always took particular note of the squeal that ripped from your throat everytime he hit that perfect spot. When it got hard to breathe, you turned your head so your cheek was pressed against the mattress instead, and Billy’s hand moved from the back of your neck to wrap around your hair. And he happily took in the pathetic sounds each of his thrusts ripped from you.

“Sound so fuckin’ pretty makin’ all those sounds for me.” The head of his cock brushed against your g-spot and another squeal of his name left your mouth, proving his point, “You think your asshole friend woulda made you cry his name like that?”

You shook your head as much as you could, with the position you were in, but he wanted to hear you say it, so he pulled you up by your hair.

“Say it.”

“No! Only you can!” You probably sounded so pathetic, you knew your voice was shaking. He gave you a grunt in response as he leaned his body over yours, his chest pressed against your back and his lips found the back of your neck.

“Didn’t think so.” He sunk in his teeth, sucking and biting that one spot in your neck he knew drove you insane, the pace of his pistoning hips never faltering.

The hand on your hair moved to the front of your neck, and the one of your hip also moved to your neck. He forced your head back, both of his hands holding your throat as he leaned down, lips capturing yours into a messy kiss. You could barely keep your lips closed long enough to kiss him properly. But he kept your head in place, and a guttural moan left his mouth when you pushed back on him as he fucked you, your ass meeting his hips.

“Shit, keep fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Fuck just like that darlin’.” He hissed, his fingers digging into the column of your neck most likely to leave bruises he’d brag about in the morning. “Fuck, you’re fuckin’ stupid if you think I’d want any other pussy when yours takes my cock so well.”

“Please, please Billy I’m—” You didn’t need to finish your sentence, he knew your body better than anyone else on this earth, he could feel the way you clenched his cock the same way you did his fingers, and he was pressing his fingers to your swollen clit in an instant.

“Come for me, do it now.” He groaned in your ear, moving his hand to the base of your neck as he held you to his chest, his fingers on your clit moving at the same pace as his hips.

It hit you quick, and fucking hard. You were shaking so hard you probably would have slipped right off his cock if he hadn’t been holding you. And his name fell from your lips over and over as you came all over him. And with the way your walls gripped his cock like vice, he wasn’t much further.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” His eyes rolled into the back of his head, curses sputtering from his lips as he gave you a few more thrusts before he held you down on his cock and spilled himself deep inside you with a breathy moan.

His head fell forward, dark strands falling over his face and eyes still closed as he held you, his quick and uneven breaths filling your ears. Your own head fell back on his shoulder, eyes also closed as you reached back and your fingers brushed over the shorter hairs on the back of his head. He gave you a quiet hum, lips pressing against your neck briefly in a nonverbal praise before he pulled himself out of you, your mixed releases dripping down your thighs. He maneuvered you both into a spooning position, him behind you and you pulled flushed against his chest. Neither of you said anything for a little while, simply laying in comfortable silence as you both fell back into normal breathing.

“Hey,” He mumbled into your ear, and you half nodded in acknowledgement, “You know that if you ever, ever, need anythin’ you call me. No one else.”

You bit your lip, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, lips tugged into a sly smile, “Yeah. But y'know, I might need another reminder, just to be sure I don’t forget.”

Billy smirked, in the back of his head wanting to take you all over again for merely suggesting it. He gripped your jaw and pressed a hard but deep kiss to your lips before saying,

“Oh trust me baby, you won’t wanna talk to anyone else after I’m done with you.”

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #billy russo imagine #billy russo

1K notes · View notes

fallow-hollow · 6 days

Text

take you home

…ft! chilchuck tims x male! half-foot! reader

…tags! fluff, pining, confession, dates, mentions of drinking, post-canon

…word count! 1346

…notes! i fully agree with the fandom consensus that chilchuck is a closeted bisexual

Chilchuck was a pretty prominent union leader on the island, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he’d do the same when he moves back to Kahka Brud to set up shop.

If you’re a half foot in the area, especially one looking for work, it’s pretty much impossible not to know Chilchuck.

No matter your field, he’s a great guy to go to for making connections and financial advice in general.

The first time you talked to him was about negotiating for a contract with a potential employer, but honestly, you’d always sort of admired him from afar. Hard working, sharp-witted, not to mention good looking.

“What?!” You nearly jumped at the man’s exasperated shout, being that he was fairly close to your ear. Chilchuck agreed to help you take a look at one of the contracts you’ve been offered, so you were currently letting him take a look at a copy. This, of course, led to the man peering over your shoulder, which didn’t help your absolutely hopeless crush on him. Not that you were complaining, though.

To make it even worse, he even rested his elbow right on your shoulder to point something out on the paper. “They don’t even include consequential damages litigation here! No way are you going to be tricked into being liable for their lost profits!”

Not turning your head due to your own embarrassment, you merely looked at him in your peripheral vision. “So, what do you think I should do?”

“Wellll….” As he deliberated on your question, the man leaned away from you, allowing you to turn your body towards him more. “If you’re dead set on working with this employer, I’d say negotiate as much as you can. On your own, you can get brushed off easily, but if you need…” he wore a smug grin whilst rubbing under his nose with his index finger. “I can put in a good word for you.”

And if you’re a half-foot, the guy is most likely taller than you. It’s noted that if the entire canon party were half-foots, he’d be taller than even Laios.

By this point in the timeline, I also imagine he’s patched things up with his family, but not in a romantic relationship with his ex-wife anymore. They’re friendly and see each other regularly, and she and his daughters even tease him about putting himself out there again.

From conversations you’ve had with him, you’re more than aware he’s been married before and has kids, and that doesn’t deter you from seeking a relationship with him at all. In fact, if you ever meet his daughters, you’ll likely get along well if you’re as amiable with them as you are with their father.

“I like him,” Puckpatti would declare the moment you left the room. “He seems sweet! You definitely need somebody like that to coax you out of your whole crab apple act, Papa.”

“It’s not like that!” He would instantly retort, causing his two more outgoing daughters to giggle. Even Meijack, albeit not as boisterous as her sisters, had a hint of an amused look on her face.

“Yet.” Flertom winked. “If you ever need some tips to speed up the process, you really shouldn’t be afraid to ask!”

The mere offer turned the man into a stuttering mess. “Stop that or I’ll— I’ll tell your mother!”

For a moment, Meijack’s eyes flitted to her father’s face before retreating back to the side. “She already told us she knew you swung that way.”

Chilchuck would’ve downright screamed if not for your return. “Hey guys, what’d I miss?” He dared not turn around, lest you notice how flushed he’d become in mere minutes.

Puckpatti, with a look so innocent that you could hardly believe she was tormenting her father just moments before, clapped her hands together and grinned. “No, you came at just the right time! I wanted to ask more about how you and Papa met!”

Chilchuck has never dated another guy before, so he doesn’t have a lot of experience in that field. Honestly, since his wife and he were childhood friends, I’m not sure if he’s dated anybody else at all. Most of the guys he knew well were coworkers, drinking buddies, or both, so emotional connection wasn’t always a priority.

Your friendly attitude and respect for his craft already drew him in, plus your little acts of affection drove him absolutely crazy. Give him a hug as a greeting and he’s doing everything he can to resist melting. Could a person really be this sweet with no ulterior motive? Someone like you has got to be even rarer than even the most valuable treasures.

More likely than not, you’d be the one to actually ask him out. You may need to repeat yourself when you ask him, though, cause the man might just die of shock.

Holding up the poster for the ‘couple’s night’ at the bar you frequented together was a bit of a nerve wracking experience, if you were being honest. Watching the other man’s eyes squint and scan over the text, you grinned and asked,

“Would you want to go together?”

For a moment, Chilchuck didn’t really know what to make of your request. You asking him to go out for drinks with him was a totally normal thing between you two, but why were you showing him that ad? After a minute or so of trying and failing to make the proper connection, he grinned and nodded like he’d figured it out.

“Ahhh, so you’re one of those people that’ll pretend to be a couple with their friend to get discounted drinks? Not really a thing I do, but since it’s you, I’ll consider it.”

Hey, why did you look so dejected when he said that? That’s what you meant, right?

Right?

“No, I meant…..” your eyes left his face in favor of lingering on the floor. Those words combined with your expression finally made it all slide into place, and the poor man could only blurt out with a feeling of intense guilt,

“Oh, oh, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t know you were asking—!”

You did end up going together that night, and it was pretty fun, too.

As a partner, Chilchuck is focused on providing stability. As much as he can act like a sleaze sometimes, he doesn’t seem like he does a lot of casual dating. He’d probably feel too old for that kind of thing either way.

When you’ve been together for a while, he may even offer to share finances and move in together. He says it would be “economical” and all, but you can also tell he clearly wants to be with you daily, and that makes you happy.

Protective as all hell. When he gets a little tipsy, he may get snappy with anyone he even thinks is looking at you the wrong way.

“Hey!” From beside you, you heard your lover’s voice slur. “You got a problem with my man?”

A sigh escaped your lips. “Chilchuck, he’s just collecting the empty glasses.”

Your words must not have either not reached him or not even affected him, because he continued to glare up at the waiter with a hazy, unfounded suspicion that truly only a drunk Chilchuck could possess.

A hand on his waist pulling him into your collar made quick work of sating him, a smile gracing your lips when he groaned into the fabric of your shirt. “We’ll leave soon, okay hon? Soon we can go home.”

Briefly, his half lidded eyes opened wider if only to look up at your face as if you were an illusion, something too good to be true.

“I get to take a pretty thing like you home with me….?”

Lord, for such a serious person, he really could make you laugh sometimes. It was probably just the lighting, but you hoped that the redness of his face really did intensify at your smile as you gazed down at him.

“You can every single night, Chil. Always.”

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck tims #chilchuck tims x reader

77 notes · View notes

sleepingdeath-light · 11 months

Text

stoic but mischievous mistress hcs ; claude & sebastian

requested by ; anonymous (02/01/22)

fandom(s) ; black butler

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | main cast | anime only

character(s) ; claude faustus, sebastian michaelis

outline ; “Hello! I'm so sorry if requests are closed, if they are feel free to ignore this, but if not. Could you please make HC for Claude &/or Sebastian in a contract with a reader as serious and calm as Claude, but reader always manages to (and gets a kick out of) make them fluster by tricking them in to accidentally show or confess their attraction/affection for her? I love your writing <3”

warning(s) ; canon typical references to violence

Claude Faustus

the two of you clicked extremely well due to your similar demeanours — even more so than with his previous contracts as he wasn’t forced to put on any sort of act in order to please you as his master

it was one less thing to focus on whilst enacting all of the civility and violence that you required of him and that much he could appreciate

he takes great pleasure and pride in watching how you respond to the lesser mortals around you — always so infuriatingly calm and using perfect curated words to burn them

you’re sadistic and stoic and calm and cruel — the perfect person to be in control of a demon from hell

but you’re also infuriatingly observant and know exactly how to have him wrapped around your little finger

you know that he has a distinct fondness for you and sees you as a potential mate

he knows that you know this

you know that he knows

and yet he still falls for your tricks every time, always desperate to prove himself (driven by that damned instinct of his to show off to a mate)

he’ll leap at any given opportunity to prove himself to you: menial busy work, dispatching enemies, tending to your every whim

and he knows you get a kick out of seeing him being so willingly, over the top, subservient

and he hates it

no he doesn’t

but he goes along with it every time because no matter how much he despises feeling so vulnerable

no matter how much it makes his skin crawl when his mouth runs off with a compliment or confession before he can even think

no matter how weak you make him feel

it’s worth it to be able to see one of those rare smiles grace your features (though he’d never admit to being so sentimental)

Sebastian Michaelis

sebastian is incredibly blatant about his attachment and affection for you — openly and unabashedly flirting you through his actions and his words

it’s rare that you’ll give him anything more than an eye roll or a blank stare, but it’s those rare moments that he lives for

the times where you freeze and your eyes widen, calm and stoic demeanour shattering at your feet as you process a particularly lewd remark

the times where you’ll crack a small smile or laugh at something that he’d said

the times where you’d, without even looking at him, return his same energy and flirt back

calling him ‘darling’ and ‘handsome’ as you send him away

and laughing behind the rim of your cup when his spirits lift and his eyes light up

because for as much as he loves how calm and intimidatingly stoic you are, he gets a kick out of making that facade crack

of making you react and seeing your more playful side

even if it means putting his ego aside and making a fool of himself

even if he has to make himself submissive to you — more than his contract demands

like when you tricked him into calling himself your mate in front of company by playing into his ego — just barely managing to hold a straight face as he scrambled to correct himself

flustered for the first time in his long, long life

yes

sebastian was very fond of you indeed

#sleepingdeath #female reader #fluff #fluff hcs #black butler fluff #kuroshitsuji fluff #sebastian michaelis fluff #claude faustus fluff #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #claude faustus x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader

405 notes · View notes

polliwoggers · 1 year

Text

been struggling to draw lately so i went through some older stuff of mine and found this, only to realize i never posted it. i don't imagine anybody's still doing stuff for this weird social media-clan au thingy anymore, now that the meme of it has died down, but anybody's free to these names for whatever uses they want, if they want them :)

bonus lore to get it out of my head:

Yarrow-whisker was the previous medic before Quarrypaw, who has yet to gain their full status as a medicine cat in their absence

Geckopaw and Prairiepaw are siblings. Yewtail is only a so-so mentor at the best of times, so Foxfire effectively mentors them both. However, Prairiepaw has swooped in to support Yewtail when they decide to do something stupid and unsustainable on multiple occasions. they really shouldn't have been granted an apprentice tbh. i recently re-read Fire and Ice in the original warriors series so the parallels to Graystripe being a poor mentor to Brackenpaw are intentional

Skypelt came out of retirement to mentor Duskpaw, since they serve such similar real-life purposes. Skypelt doesn't understand everything their apprentice says or does but is generally supportive of such a similar application

Marsh-singer, Whitestep, and Thymeface are all siblings, and are collectively the youngest of the warriors (not accurate to the actual ages of the applications, but eh). to say they are all total gossips would be an understatement. they're also really interchangeable and forgettable. like the Runningwinds of apps.

depending on how positively you want to view the whole "reincarnation" trope some of the canon warriors books have, you could say that Tickpaw is a reincarnation of Musiclight. Otherwise, they just look really similar.

all of the "Cats Outside of Clans" cats are kittypets, with the notable exception of Furzebark, who is a banished rogue with a concerning amount of influence on the Clan(s?). maybe there's a whole band of rogues who are based on insidiously/surprisingly influential applications or online entities! various appstore/playsotre applications could fall under this category, as well as like. roblox, apparently. which is beyond weird to me since that's a game and not a wider application, but it got scarily profitable during lockdown, so...

Redpaw was Yewtail's sibling, but died during their apprenticeship. Probably to the same thing that killed Gravelpounce, but i have no idea what that would be

Flaxflower is generally considered WAY too old to still be alive (since the real internet explorer died a bit ago by now), but since he'd "find a way to be late to his own funeral", he has yet to kick the bucket.

the whole twittypet drama is EASILY the juiciest gossip the clan has had in ages, ESPECIALLY the half-clan checkmark-kits. in-universe, im interpreting the poor management of twitter that's been driving it into the ground irl as a negligent cat owner unintentionally driving their pet to spend more time outdoors with other cats (namely, dashclaw) to get away from them, which resulted in kittens. drummed-up anti-kittypet sentiment aside, many clan cats looking in on the situation just feel bad for her.

Vinewatcher is the most consistently "present" of the StarClan spirits, but is also the most consistently unhelpful. numerous potential prophecies later turned out to just be inside jokes of theirs they decided to continue rehashing into the afterlife. Quarrypaw, having not gotten much experience identifying what makes a legitimate prophecy yet, finds this exceptionally annoying behavior, and would like them to stop. They do not.

#my drawings #tumblrclan #twittypet #warrior cats #warriors #this got way longer than intended oops

472 notes · View notes

slipperzipper · 3 months

Text

Rescue (Heimdall x Reader)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| angst turned to comfort/fluff? Reader saving Heimdall from his canon ending, established relationship, Could be seen as romantic or platonic, Let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 4.1k!

| Disclaimer!: Descriptions of Injuries and Blood (burns, missing limbs, etc), minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start

You wouldn’t have expected to be here, but yet here you were.

Kratos and Freya venturing to Vanaheim to retrieve her brother was the goal, as long as stopping Heimdall from potentially killing Atreus. Gjallarhorn was the only thing needed from the Aesir. You thought you could come and help in case anything else had gone wrong.

But when Kratos turned back from his promise and started strangling the weakened god, you followed them just in time to hear Mimir shout out pleas for the god killer to stop and think. Fortunately you barrelled straight into Kratos, sending him tumbling before turning around and traversing to the side where his arm was missing.

You fell on your knees. Wrapping an arm behind his shoulders, forcing him to sit up, while you grabbed his free hand and grasped it as a sense of comfort in his near death state. His blood started to stain your clothing but that did not bother you right now, right now the only concern you had was Heimdall.

You didn’t fail to notice how Heimdall’s left hand came to his throat, as if to feel how bruised and put a barrier between him and anyone else that might try to strangle him. His harsh breathing could be heard through short wheezes and gasps.

You could see Kratos grabbing Mimir’s head before standing tall. You heard Mimir quip about how if you weren’t here it would’ve been a lot worse, you couldn’t help but agree.

You rip a spare sheet of cloth off of your own outfit, using it to clear the blood of the golden god’s face, now his eyes didn’t seem as pink as they were. His face wasn’t perfectly cleaned but it would have to do.

“Do you plan to come with us to retrieve Freyr and his camp?” Kratos’ voice rumbled out from his chest.

“Do you mind if we do?” You reply with a much quieter tone, only for him to ‘Hm’ out before he stepped away. Only to wait for you when he finished busting a wall of various spears and long logs of wood.

You redirected your attention to Heimdall, he was staring up at you. “Are.. are you really going to make.. me go with you?” His voice was slowly gaining back its usual tone and sound, but not as quickly as you liked.

“We’re going to make things better. Better for the both of us, and if we don’t start now..” You trailed off, trying to think of the right thing to say but everything you thought would result in him being less than pleased with you, but you had to do the right thing.

“Heimdall, your father has made everything miserable for everyone. He makes you miserable. The sooner you realize that, the quicker we can make our lives better. We can make Asgard better” Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you looked at all his features.

His eyes were definitely the first thing people would notice about him, if not his intricately done hair, and how messy it was from normal. His hand was gripped towards yours like it was his lifeline and you couldn’t help but feel how textured his hands were. Not as rough as a warrior’s usually was around the nine realms but detailed enough to know the difference.

You soon tore a strip of fabric off yourself and wrapped his stub, to prevent any more blood loss. It wouldn’t do much but for now it’s all you could do. All he did was stare, stare at you with beautiful magenta eyes. After ‘fixing’ up his arm, you could only stare back.

Heimdall was slow to respond but he eventually replied in a way you didn’t expect.

“You should’ve let me die.”

It took you moments until Kratos grunted again to let you know it was time to go. You sighed before getting and pulling Heimdall up with you.

He stumbled when he stood up but with little stability in his legs, he decided to tough it out. You wanted to argue that it wouldn’t do him any good, but he only insisted.

You held his shoulders with an arm as the two of you ventured forward, only being a few short feet behind. The natural flora and forestry did not help distract from both Heimdall’s injuries and the burning building that only burned brighter the more time passed.

Once you found Kratos standing near a ledge, you parted from Heimdall for a short moment to see what the god of war saw. You saw Atreus, the sweet young boy you’ve grown to know through various interactions, letting Hildisvini lead the way as Freya helped Freyr escape.

It reminded you of Heimdall’s condition, but you couldn’t help when Atreus waved at you, you waved back.

“Hey, a little help?” The young god proclaimed before following after the three more experienced warriors alongside him. “At least the rescues going well” Mimir’s accent was heard, following that up was Kratos’s grunt.

You looked back to Heimdall and fortunately he was still standing and he was right behind you. Grabbing his shoulders again as you followed Kratos more under flora and alternate paths that ultimately lead to the same place. You heard the voices of the rescue team explain how Freyr was hurt in the wreckage, you heard Heimdall wheeze a little bit at it. The two of you continued to venture

You noticed how much strength he was losing by the second. His steps were getting slower and slower and you knew if he were to continue like this then he wouldn’t get anywhere.

“Heimdall, you and I know you can’t continue like this.” You speak out, stopping Heimdall in his tracks by walking in front of him and planting your hands on his shoulders. Making him look at you.

“I can continue- now let me.” The golden god spoke before trying to step to the side of you. You didn’t let that happen, instead you forced him to piggyback on you. Getting comfortable while grumbling quietly, Heimdall sat his chin on your head and locked his arm around your neck for security.

You started walking with the newfound weight on your back. Venturing further, You heard Heimdall small moans of hurt every few times you stepped. Eventually you heard the god of war shout ‘TO ME! FOLLOW!’ and the constant quips of the Vanir God or “Sizzles” as Heimdall liked to call him.

You immediately picked up your pace and started running towards them. You demanded that Heimdall hang tight as you started to move your legs faster and quicker to try and reach them. You can hear the sounds of the wild Gulons chasing after them, You were only a few feet above them, you could easily hop off the terrain but the wild dogs were in the way.

You noticed that Kratos was swinging his axe with one hand and holding Freyr with the other. Once Kratos slashed the last Gulon you’ll hop down.

“Oh, hey up there!” Atreus called out your name, effectively letting everyone know that you were ,in fact, here and carrying the injured Aesir god on your back.

“What are you doing with Heimdall?” Freya shouted as she shot an Einherjar in between its eyes, effectively putting down the reanimated corpse. You explained that Kratos spared him and that he was coming back with them. Only to hear a groan from Freyr.

The wild dogs were eventually cleared out of the way and you jumped off the ledge, almost breaking your ankles in the process but that would be a problem for later. You joined the group and were right behind Kratos.

“Well looky here! The famous Heimdall on the back of a ‘commoner’, who would’ve thought?” Freyr jokes after he glanced up at both you and the mentioned god.

“yet here you are, on the shoulders of a brute.”

“The brute that kicked your ass. Ha!”

“Then let’s see you challenge him, hm?”

“Can you two quit talking?” Freya asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. You couldn’t help but agree. Atreus then pointed out the Archer Towers in which the boy’s father quickly disposed of them. Heimdall did a small eye roll at how quickly the action was taken.

Atreus eventually ran ahead of his father to take out the further Einherjar.

“Hi! I’m Atreus, are you okay?” As the two weaved in between each other, Frey responded with a ‘Hi! No!’

“Hi Heimdall!” Atreus greeted as he struck a couple of Odin’s army with arrows. Heimdall couldn’t help but mutter under his breath and reply with a dry ‘Hello’ after you weakly elbowed him.

“How much farther do we have?” You shouted before readjusting your hold on Heimdall’s legs, soon stomping on the head of an Einherjar and heard a sickening crunch. You heard Heimdall give a curt pat as a small ‘good’

“That’s what I’m asking!” Freyr quipped with a small laugh. You saw Kratos slam his body and crushed a wild Gulon into a tree and effectively murdered it. The blood stained the tree but there was no time to look further at it as you saw Hildisvini ahead.

Freya as her hawk form came flying by as vines wrapped around the surrounding trees. The dark elf known as Beyla came zipping past you and Kratos, her husband was nowhere to be found.

“Watch your right!” Heimdall yelled in your ear as he directed his body mass to the left. He was trying to help you redirect yourself out of harm's way. You merely dodged the incoming tree thanks to the partner on your back.

“Just a bit farther!” Freyr gleefully announced with a raised fist. He seemed the only one to be happy right now.

“Finally, we’re almost there.” Heimdall spoke only to you since you were the only one to hear him. You couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Hang on just a little longer-” You say but unfortunately luck was not on your side. The extra trees Freya managed to knock down blocked your way, the first tree that slammed down in front of you was twice your size with just the width alone.

“Father!” Atreus then called out your name, catching the attention of the aforementioned god. Panic started to bubble up, your eyes frantically searching for another possible exit. The only way out seemed to run through the wild woods.

“Go on without me! I’ll find another way!” You informed them with a raspy voice. The air pumping through your lungs made your throat dry, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting out of this damn place alive.

You turned your body so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash. Sprinting through the trees as angry Einherjar follow so closely, their loud yells of speech and the arrows whipping past you and hitting into trees

The trees were blending together, the wildlife seemed the same. The once (somewhat) familiar area was now unknown as you ran in an unpredictable pattern. Your feet crushed anything that dared to be under it. Whether it be snapped twigs, tiny animals that you failed to avoid, or failed arrows that tried to impale you.

One of the arrows managed to scathe your leg. Causing a gash to start bleeding as soon as it made contact with your skin. Another arrow made a nice slice into your other leg as well, nearly giving them matching marks. Now your legs were burning even worse from all the running and now the incoming scars.

“Keep going! There’s a river up ahead!” Heimdall ordered in your ear. His legs wrapped tighter around your waist while you readjusted your grip on his legs. Getting him up higher so that your legs had more room to move.

As you tried to hurry yourself forward like what Heimdall instructed, you felt a blast of Bifrost explode near your feet. You panicked and quickly swerved, fumbling your feet before you corrected yourself. Only to be shot at again and again. This time it was at your back and arm.

You cursed to yourself while you tried to move unpredictably. The Bifrost blasts that had missed and hit the surrounding environment were actually proved in your favor when they slowed down the Einherjar with fallen trees and plants uprooting and causing a tripping hazard.

At the end of the tree line you saw it, the river. You would have to jump the rushing, turgid currents and then you have to continue running until you found a safe haven or somewhere the undead army couldn’t get you and Heimdall.

“Watch out-!”

The previous plan was thrown out when at the river’s bank, your leg was suddenly in the blast of Bifrost, causing it to shake in an untrained way and make you fall forward. Falling into the water and not too long after you and Heimdall were trying to swim, Your arms climbed upward in the water before breaking through it and gasping for sweet, sweet air.

You soon found Heimdall gasping like you. Although with less buoyancy due to a missing body part. You managed to grab hold of him as the rushing river took you down faster than you realized.

What made the situation worse, was that there was a dip in the water. It was a damn waterfall. As soon as you felt your body slip down you started to scream, your grip tightening on Heimdall as you fell to your inevitable death.

__________________________

The first thing you felt was sand.

Sand?

You flexed your fingers along the sand, soon pushing your head up to see that you had washed up on a shore. The river was just at the edge of your feet, and your clothes were soaked beyond drying soon. You also happened to notice that the leg closest to the bifrost blast that caused this predicament was almost entirely exposed and very much damaged, you internally groaned at having to deal with this.

You picked yourself up with a slight wobble in your legs, your legs felt like bloody, poorly, bundled twigs as you took your first steps. You felt alarmed as Heimdall was nowhere to be seen. You started calling out his name before deciding to look around.

Based on the setting, you were still in Vanaheim and luckily weren’t kidnapped and/or murdered by the Einherjar. You were just fortunate that you didn’t drown in the initial waters. As you ventured, you soon heard a groan.

You soon hustled to see who it was, avoiding some of the random items that float onto shore. Weapons, shields, parts of barrels, and body parts. Carefully avoiding the dismembered parts and debris, you managed to get to your person.

Heimdall face down into the sand just like you were and a small blood pool under his ‘arm’. Hustling over to him you help him up.

“Do you happen to know where we are?” Heimdall asked with a cough, previously covering his mouth.

“I have no clue, I was hoping you had an idea.” You admit. You slipped your hand around his and gripped. You felt a grip back, and it gave you a little smile on your face.

“But first, I think we need to stop your bleeding.” You mentioned, you can see a small scowl on Heimdall’s face before continuing to follow you.

“I can heal it with Bifrost. Don’t insist on collecting miniscule plants to help me.”

“Then how come it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet?” You ask curiously, you didn’t want to sound sarcastic but some of that unwanted tone slipped out.

“Because it requires my full attention and concentration.” You released an audible ‘oh’ at the very simple explanation, Heimdall only rolled his eyes in what you hoped was a playful way.

“How come your bleeding hasn’t?” Heimdall sarcastically countered. You had almost forgotten about it, if it weren’t for the pain every time you stepped.

“I don’t have any bifrost powers like you do, nor do I have anything on hand to heal myself.” Heimdall was uncharacteristically quiet after that.

You sighed before trying to think of something. How were you possibly going to reach Freyr’s camp?

It was at least multiple days of walking, and that was without break. Maybe there was a sign of Freyr’s camp somewhere? Some old structures to help you have an idea of where you were.

Freyr’s camp was in the direction the sun set. The sun was already setting and traveling at night was not the best idea. So the best idea was to set up your own, albeit small, camp. First thing you did was gather stones, placing them in a circular pattern.

You had set the stones on a dry, grassy patch just shy of the beach. It would be better instead of sitting on the grainy sand.

Then you ventured towards the nearby woods, Heimdall didn’t seem to mind as he observed more of his surroundings, copying what you did previously.

The woods were packed. Thick trees every couple feet apart from each other, the wild flora captivating your eyes while you collected specific plants and organisms for your injuries and small pieces of wood for a fire. Although one flower caught your eye.

A bright purple one with glowing spores. It was much like the bright red ones you have seen exploring Vanaheim but this was so clearly different. It called out to you. You figured it could be a decent gift for Heimdall to maybe brighten his mood.

Pulling your knife out, you quickly snipped the flower’s stem. You had dropped the bundle of wood in your arms just for it, and having no other place to put it, you slid it comfortably behind your ear before returning to the camp.

“There you are, I was starting to worry you got eaten by something.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the assumption, it was possibly one of the more funnier things Heimdall has said to you.

“I wouldn’t die that easily, or at least I hope so.” Your hands worked in order to prepare the fire. You searched yourself for anything to make starting a fire easier, but with no luck, you decided to start hand drilling.

It took a while and your hands were sore but there was fire going and you and Heimdall were warm.

“What is that behind your ear?” Heimdall’s voice curiously asked. The question reminded you of the original intent. Sitting somewhat next to each other, you sat while you nervously prepared yourself.

“Oh!” You removed the flower before gesturing for him to take it. “It’s for you, it reminded me of you anyway so I thought-” You stammered your way through the conversation, flirting with the infamous golden god was extremely harder than you thought.

Instead of flat out rejecting you like you kind of expected, he gently took it from you. He quietly observed the pretty petals you gazed upon earlier. The pistil still glowed brightly as it did before. You were still glad the flower looked as pretty as it did earlier.

Heimdall slowly rolled the stem in between his fingers, looking at the pretty plant plainly with what seemed to be little care.

“So you thought to give me a mutated flower?” He inquired, and your heart had immediately dropped. Of course he wouldn’t like the flower, of course he’d think it was a weak attempt to flirt with him. Of course-

“It’s a beautiful gift, thank you.” His tone was tender and it made your tender heart stutter. Soon silence comfortably blanketed over the two of you. The environment provides a comfortable background echo throughout the spot from the crackling fire to the sound of calm waters.

You couldn’t help but stare at Heimdall’s once-arm, (the god had his eyes closed so he could probably still read your thoughts but you hadn’t remembered that) the mostly reddened stump with only the top of his tricep and upwards remaining.

You wanted to so desperately help the healing process. You also noticed the long cut on his cheek, he was just a mess in general.

His hair was also not in his preferred style, some strands coming loose while some braids remained surprisingly. His hair was still beautiful, and the flower behind his ear accentuated that fact. You can’t just linger around while Heimdall had to slowly recover. It didn’t feel right.

“Heimdall, please, let me help you.”

Heimdall had broken his concentration to look at you, he was silent until he shook his head. “I told you that you do not need to help, I can heal it on my own-”

“But wouldn’t it heal faster if I added a remedy or two in it?” Quickly interrupting the god, Heimdall sighed

“It would but it wouldn’t be necessary, and no, just because you have the means doesn’t mean you can”

“Heimdall, let me help please, it's only fair after you saved me from getting crushed and blown up by Bifrost!”

Heimdall could only rub his eyes with his hand before replying a meager ‘Fine’, You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself to find something that could resemble a bowl. It didn’t take long before you found something.

An Einherjar helmet, the eye holes were fortunately before the helmet formed instead of just being holes in the strong metal. You washed it in the shore’s bank thoroughly before returning to Heimdall.

Sitting cross-legged, you start mixing flora such as Lamb’s Cress and Red root. Mixing it with two of your fingers so that you could carefully apply it, you wouldn’t want to miss a spot. So the helmet glowed on the inside, a bright yellow one to be exact.

“I’m going to lift your sleeve, you ready?” With a quick nod, you lifted his posh sleeve and quickly got to work. Slathering the medicine on the trauma, you could hear Heimdall hissing and groaning and trying not to move in place, you definitely knew how awful it was.

It was over before both of you knew it. You slipped his sleeve back down and set the Einherjar helmet down, “Now you can concentrate on using Bifrost.” You smile before moving yourself further so you could have room.

Heimdall only rolled his eyes and reciprocated the smile.

You soon pulled your pant legs high up to tend to your wounds. Heimdall was quietly watching as you analyzed your injuries.

The first thing you noticed was the Bifrost burn on your mid calf and downwards. The flesh there was stingy and hurt to touch or even look at. It spanned out in sharp points and then round points, it still bled every time you flexed your leg as well. The cuts you had gotten from the arrows were deep, they tore the skin there with ease.

Maybe you could borrow some of the Aesir arrows sometime, they were mighty harmful. The gashes were still relatively okay, you wouldn’t be getting an infection anytime soon.

You released an annoyed sigh as you prepared the ingredients to help mend the burn. Adding more of Lamb’s Cress and Red root to the concoction. “I could hold the helmet for you if it would make this,” He nonchalantly gestured to your burn ”easier.”

You thanked him by handing him said helmet. The golden god merely held it as you worked your ‘magic’. Gracefully dumping some of the product on your wounds, wanting to jump away from it while you applied it with either a hiss or curse.

As soon as you were done with the helmet, you threw it far. Or at least as far as you could from your position. Finally, you could rest without worrying about anything right now. Worrying was for tomorrow. Laying down on your back you started to relax.

The sun had set and night could be fully seen. The stars above twinkled like they never have before, maybe you should come to Vanaheim more often. The fire crackled every few seconds just to add onto the effect and you loved it, despite the situation you could still see the beauty in it.

The sound of shuffling and you found that a new weight was on your right. The watchman of the Aesir had lain beside you. You could feel his fingers ghosting yours as if he wanted to hold your hand. You decided to take the initiative and interlock fingers with him.

“Any particular reason why you decided to lay with me?” You ask, tilting your head to look at Heimdall. The Aesir man only turned to you, stared you in the eyes, then turned his back to staring upwards.

“I like your company, that is all.”

The response made your heart grow warmer, so you weren’t all too bad in his eyes. (Ignoring the fact you saved his life of course) You whispered a goodnight to him before shutting your eyes, you hadn’t realized how heavy they felt until you’ve closed.

The last thing you remember was Heimdall gently squeezing your hand before you drifted asleep.

#heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #x reader #gender neutral reader #heimdall #god of war #god of war ragnarok #gow heimdall #atreus #gow ragnarok #injuries #cw blood #cw violence

110 notes · View notes