#warriors was trying to do him a favor with the tears

[heartfullofleeches]

Would yandere emperor feel threatened if the beast reader took care of has a bigger pecs than he has?

0121.

A common rule - by law of the arena and its imperial tyrant fighters were stripped of their name and sense of identity as soon as they became a pawn in his game. The only hopes of regaining even a fraction of their self was to fight and earn a new title to wear by the insatiable crowd and its wicked master. The beast in question had done its all to claim new face, and its place as an opponent retained for champions in the ring. A noble warrior predating its imprisonment in the emperor's roster with the strength and might to prove its worth, and claim what it had lost.

Thought the beast had been given another name - in this time the emperor saw only one title fit as he enters its cage-

Trash.

"Stop it!- Please!"

Hysterical in your hopeless cries, you squirm against the beast's chest as its weighted tongue draws heavy over your cheek. It licks at the drying blood caked into your skin, trying to restore the washed shine it held when you enter to no avail. You wince from the coarse, sandpaper like texture of the invasion muscles, but are unable to swallow the laughter that ruptures from your throat as nuzzle it nuzzles your face with its nose - fur tickling your sensitive flesh.

What lingers of the emperor's decrepit heart falls deeper into despair as your hands sink into the squishy muscle of the beast's pectorals in your attempts to flee. Your face remains pinned to its chest as it holds you down with one arm, cooing - as if hushing a fussy child. In scale to its massive size you did appear as little more than a doll in its large arms. How you ever managed to care for a creature of its mass was beyond you, but its willingness to accept your presence and aid was beneficial.... Most of the time.

"I already told you I have to take another bath after this whether you clean me or not. You're still bleeding, let me bandage the wounds first."

The beast huffs, licking at its minor injures as it shoves your head back down on its chest - nearly suffocating you before you're able to turn to a better agile. If you knew any better it would be the emperor's breasts causing your loss of breath, but for some bizarre reason you refused your place in his bed. Many have tried to kill, and even succeeded to do so in prayer for even a second of his time. You had it readily available at any point, yet you outright rejected his more than generous offers. You belittle him.

The emperor clears his throat, tapping his foot against the stained floor as your eyes fall in his direction. The beast reluctantly releases you as you silently beg for freedom, growling lowly at the authoritive - making a barrel between you with its tailp. Good. You had enough sense to know that when your king is presence such nonsense and attempts to make him jealous would not be tolerated.

"Your highness...."

The emperor clicks his tongues. "Ten minutes. I want you out of here by then or the next time I return it will be with a firing squad."

The emperor turns on his heads and storms away with his head held high, clinging onto the shreds of his dignity till he crumbles at the end of his bed as it shatters in the privacy of his bedroom. He cups his exposed pecs peaking through the silky fabric of his robes and seethes spite through his teeth as he curses your reluctant nature.

"My image is that of a god's! How dare you make me question my worth in this way. I'll have that dredge you favor skinned and turned into my new coat for making me feel this way you awful, cruel human."

Heavy bangs fall on his door as guards crowd around.

"Your highness, is everything alright?!"

The emperor screams through hot, angry tears. "0121... I want 0121's head on a fucking platter and at my door by nightfall!"

"Your highness.... You have made it law that we are to refuse your order if your voice goes over a certain decibel as you are too emotional to think rationally."

"I am your king! Do what I say or I will have you all hanged!"

Soft whispering becomes muffled by the door. The emperor can recognize one of the voices better than the rest.

"The caretaker has agreed to use your chest as a pillow if you spare the beast's head."

The emperor dries his face and pulls his robes to his shoulders as he stands. He races to the door where you stand with your arms folded - dragging you inside his room without warning.

"Order revoked."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere emperor #yandere drabble

[dearstell]

𝗜. 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗝𝗘𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗦

𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗘𝗦

🎧

Family jewels masterlist | back to navigation Parings: Sully family x reader, jake sully x daughter!reader Word count: 792 Notes: I hope you guys like this!! Sorry it took so long and sorry if it's short, also if you have requests please send them in (i beg you) Taglist: @lorre-verie @eywas-heir @damiiworld @arianapjs @arminsgfloll @buterccup @ifuckinghatemathrahhhhhh @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @inluvwithneteyam @il0vejj @neteyamforlife @ducks118 @ssc7514

🎧

"[Name], Lo'ak, Neteyam, come with me. We need to talk," Jake said with a cold expression on his face. He led his three kids to a secluded area at the corners of the cave.

"What the fuck were you guys thinking?" He said in a harsh tone.

"Sir—" Neteyam started but then was quickly cut off by his father, again.

"You allowed them to do this, weren't you thinking? Not only that, you joined them."

"Sir, I take full responsibility for this, I'm sorry. It will not happen again."

"Yeah it better not. Now go." He said harshly, pointing to the direction of the tent they kids sleep in.

[Name] always hated this, her bringing trouble and Neteyam being the one to take the blame. Why did he blame himself? It's not his fault, it's never his fault. Why was he acting like this?

No one in their family has been the same since the return of the sky-people. Kiri practically lived in the healer's tent treating the wounded, planning and organizing funerals for the warriors that had fallen due to the war; they rarely saw her out. Neteyam was always in some important meetings with Jake. Lo'ak was always out in the forest doing stuff that would get him in trouble. Tuk became quieter, avoiding conversations and mostly keeping to herself.

[Name] buried herself in her iknimaya training hoping that the day that she was dreaming of as a young girl would finally arrive, or she would be out, causing havoc amongst the clan. Why is she doing this? She doesn't know, was it to perhaps attract attention from her parents? To anger her dad? Or maybe she wanted to get hurt to finally feel loved?

Is this a call for help? No, no it can't be, she doesn't want help, she doesn't want people to know what's wrong with her when she herself doesn't know it either. She should be the first one to know her own problem.

They were all in a bad state but her parents, god, her parents were worse, far worse. Her mom was more agitated as days passed by.

Her dad changed drastically, the arrival of his old enemies brought back the marine in him, he always had guns attached to him; it was as if the second he dropped that gun his family would be killed.

They fight more too. Fights between married couples are normal, they'd have a disagreement, they fight, they make up; it's a cycle. But this one isn't normal anymore.

They try to hide it from the kids but it's just so obvious. They've been avoiding each other for over a week. They talk less and less. Their fights can be heard from outside their tent, Neytiri shouting at him angrily and Jake fighting back.

They put on a charade in front of the people—that they are a happy family, staying strong and finding light in the darkest hours.

"[Name]," a voice spoke up, snapping [Name] from her thoughts, she looked around to see both her brothers gone, "you're not listening again are you?" Jake accused.

"No I'm—" she started but was cut off by her dad. What is it with him and talking over his kids?

"Eywa help me, she's a lost cause." he mumbled, rubbing his nose bridge.

"Can I leave now?" she said in a whisper.

"Just go." Jake sighed, pointing to the tent the siblings all slept in.

Tears were threatening to leave her eyes as she walked back to the tent. Though it was mumbled [Name] heard it loud and clear. She knows that he didn't favor her like Kiri and Tuk, she knows she disappoints him though he won't say it out loud, but to say she's a lost cause? It was like a dagger was stabbed through her heart.

She entered their shared tent and saw all her siblings sleeping soundly, except for Neteyam.

"[Name] are you okay?" he asked, noticing her teary eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine just...just the dust, it got to my eye." [Name] replied. Neteyam knew that it was a blatant lie but decided to let it go, though what he saw was a strange sight. [Name] never cried, she usually sucks it up and moves on.

[Name] did not get an ounce of sleep that night, she spent the whole time thinking about their current situation. How could her dad say that? Was she that bad of a daughter? Did he hate her that much?

What the sully family was and what it is now are so different you would think it was two different families. The once happy family has now fallen down. Like dominoes, bringing the others down with them. Such a pitiful thing to see.

#jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #dad!jake sully #jake sully x daughter #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #lo'ak x reader #kiri x reader #kiri x sister!reader #avatar x reader #avatar: way of water #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #DearStell

[azsazz]

Cupid's Chokehold (Part 5)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it’s a little hard to explain what you’re trying to do.

Warnings: Weapons, blood.

Word Count: 2,147

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Notes: I can't stop saying how in love with this fic I am 😫 Please enjoy. 💙

_________________________________________

“Eris.”

Azriel is a mask of deathly calm as he addresses the Autumn Court male with the mischievous smirk on his pink lips. His amber eyes are wicked, prideful that he’d seemed to catch the oh-so amazing spymaster of the Night Court off guard. And with a beautiful female no less, he thinks as his gaze flicks to yours where you’re peeking around the shadowsingers flared wings.

He’d immediately pushed you behind him at the sound of the intruder, hiding you behind those thick rubbery, membraneous limbs.

You knew better than to touch, no matter how badly you wanted to. With the sun shining down through the forest you could see every scrape, scar, and injury he’d endured throughout his lifetime, slivers of pink glowing red in the warm rays of the sun.

It made you ache to trace one with your finger, curious as to what each was from.

You wonder if Azriel remembered how he’d gotten them. He’d been a warrior for centuries and you knew that came with forgotten battles, training, second-nature tactics that he may not be able to pick one scar out from another.

And speaking of scars…his hand is wrapped tightly around the hilt of that same knife that had been pressed up against your throat the first time you’d met. He seemed to favor this one. In fact, you hadn’t seen him without the cobalt-stoned blade even once.

The intrusive thought is in your head before you can even stop it, cheeks going red as you wonder if the shadowsinger uses it for anything more than self-defense.

“And who is this absolutely stunning female you’ve brought to my lands?” the heir purrs, taking his time looking you up and down when Azriel reluctantly pulls his wings back. The grip on his knife tightens and he swallows the feral growl threatening to tear from his throat.

“I’m (Y/N),” you introduce, and Azriel wants to show you how proud he is with a kiss when you continue, using the story they’d had you telling the rest of their family. “From the Dawn Court.”

Eris reaches out for your hand, ever the gentleman, but as soon as your delicate one takes his he’s sliding the knife from up his sleeve into his free hand, twisting you around and pulling you harshly against his chest with the tip of his blade pointed underneath your chin. Your weapon and arrows clang to the ground at Eris’ crushing grip, the only sound in the forest.

Azriel hadn’t seen it coming in his angry haze, had just thought Eris was being Eris, annoyingly charming prick that he is. He tenses, and you’re not even sure he’s breathing, shadows dancing in his eyes and at his feet, restless to strike.

The Autumn lordling leans down to whisper in your ear, a caress of flames that has you cringing away, the sharp tip of his knife piercing your skin easily.

“Unglamor yourself,” he hisses.

Your wide eyes are locked on Azriel, who doesn’t dare look away from Eris no matter how badly he wants to. His heart pounds in his chest and his rage roars in his ears, so loudly that he doesn’t catch the heir’s words to you the first time, his shadows relaying the message as his mind screams at him to protect, protect, protect.

You won’t do anything Azriel doesn’t tell you to. You’re about to respond to him, let him know that you have no idea what he’s talking about, but the shadowsinger gives you a soft nod of his head, and you shiver as your glamor disappears.

Your wings appear, pinned tightly behind your back. Eris’ brows furrow but his hold on you tightens, while Azriel’s breathing picks up again at the sight of them, purely white and feathers perfectly fluffed. They rest around you like two crescents, pulled in firmly at your waist, like the shape of a heart behind you.

All you need is a halo and you’d be set.

He doesn’t like the way that the heir’s eyes skim across your wings, assessing them with a twitch of his brow before his downturned mouth curls upward wickedly. The hair on the back of Azriel’s neck stands at the sight, his stomach twisting as Eris speaks.

“These are not Dawn Court wings,” he traces the blade across the ridge of your wing. You don’t dare move, lest the icy metal slices you. You’re frozen against him, wracking your mind for any of the fighting moves Azriel’s taught you from the training you’d had but nothing, it’s absolutely empty in your head, the fear gripping you whole.

“A fox can always sniff out a liar when he sees one,” Eris continues, eyeing the weapons at your feet. It confirms his suspicions and he lets out a bark of laughter that has you flinching, hissing as his razor sharp blade slices through a feather and the thin skin beneath it.

You all watch as the quill drifts slowly towards the shadowsinger on a gust of crisp Autumn wind. It lands on his shoulder but he’s hyperfocused on the blood seeping from the wound on your shoulder.

You’re utterly terrified now, flowing blood gleaming golden in the fractured light.

Ichor.

“I know exactly what you are, Cupid.” Eris sneers, spitting your species with hatred. His grip tightens on the arm he had pinned behind your back and you’re full on panicking now, struggling for air as your heart beats out of your chest. You can’t move, limbs locked up in terror, trembling as you wrack your brain for answers.

Azriel can hardly stand the sight. He’s beyond furious, kicking himself for getting so easily distracted by your beauty. And now you’re hurt, bleeding liquid sunshine and trapped in the clutches of a male he despises, and seems to know what you are.

“Cupid,” he warns, a low growl cutting through your racing mind. It’s all he can do for now. He doesn’t want to make a move towards the heir with you in between them, you’ve already gotten hurt enough because of him. 

You grab onto it, watching as the Shadowsinger takes a visible breath, chest expanding, shoulders rising and falling as he exhales. You realize it’s for you, matching his breath to calm your pounding heart. It helps a little, though your heart is racing for a different reason now.

“Let her go, Eris,” Azriel commands. His wings are tucked so tightly behind him that they ache. His shadows slither along the forest floor, ruffling the leaves as they swirl around your ankles.

He hopes it’s as reassuring as he thinks it is.

“With pleasure,” the Autumn Court male’s voice crackles with fire as he shoves you away into the awaiting arms of the shadowsinger. Apparently the lordling has realized that he still needs to be on the good side of the High Lord of the Night Court and that killing one of his guests would not be a brilliant idea. “Your kind aren’t allowed in these lands.”

“What do you mean?” Azriel asks, clutching you tightly to his chest. He can worry about getting your weapons later, still sitting in the brush at the lordling’s feet. You’re shaking in his arms and all he wants to do is winnow you back to safety, but if Eris knows what you are when the Night Court has never heard of such a creature, it’s his job to find out.

And the sadistic part of him is enjoying the way you’re clinging to him, fingers buried into his leathers, the brush of your armor against his chest with every heaving breath you take.

He hates the wicked grin and smug look on Eris’ face. He wants to punch it, kick it in for what he’s done to you. Azriel hates feeling like he knows less than the cocksure male before the two of you.

“Oh, you don’t know, do you?” he flips the blade in his fingers with such grace that even Azriel’s eyes narrow. “And what could I possibly gain from telling you, spymaster?”

“I won’t kill the female in the woods you were with, if that’s what you mean.”

Eris blanches, knife faltering in his grip.

Just when he’d thought he bested the Spymaster…not today.

He doesn’t question, just begins explaining, face contorted in distaste and nearly smoldering in his spot.

“Do you even know what a Cupid is, shadowsinger?” Eris asks, and at Azriel’s threatening look he shrugs, continuing. “Cupid’s used to be a part of the Autumn Court long ago.”

Even your brows furrow at his explanation. You hadn’t learned of this growing up.

“The fairest of the deathless Gods,” he exclaims dramatically, sourly. “I recognized you by your wings first,” the auburn hair atop his head bounces with life as he nods towards you. Instinctively you tuck them in closer, like he might wound your delicate limbs again.

You know Azriel’s looking at your blood and you swallow harshly, knowing that you’re probably going to have to answer to Rhysand for all of this.

“While you may pass as someone from the Dawn Court to others, Love, you do not to those in Autumn.” He says your nickname like a curse and Azriel’s hand tightens on your waist.

“Get to the point, Eris.”

Eris simply rolls his eyes and you wonder if he’s stalling, letting the female he was cuddled up to get as much distance between the two of you as she could. It wouldn’t save her from Azriel if he chose to seek her out but you could at least admire a mate for wanting his love to be safe.

Too bad Eris doesn’t know what you were really here to do.

“Her kind used to be citizens of the Autumn Court,” he waves his hand lazily, as if this story is common knowledge. “Though they were removed and forbidden to return once they started illicitly shooting the citizens. They claimed it was a message from the Mother herself or something…” he trails off, toeing at your weapon with a grimace, ignoring the glare you shoot him.

It is, you want to hiss so badly, but a part of you is tired from having to explain this.

“The High Lord at the time dealt with them how he saw fit,” the fire in his eyes glows blue at the admission and you shudder, shrinking slightly away. Azriel picks up on it immediately, letting his shadows curl around you for comfort.

“He killed them,” Azriel answers and Eris nods, eyeing you from the side of his eye.

“Yes, though it seems there had been some that escaped.”

They’re both looking at you now and you stare at the glowing stone in the center of Azriel’s chest. You’d known nothing of this.

“The Peregryn’s,” Eris continues, “They’d fled to the Dawn Court, and once they’d begun sleeping with the fae there and having babes their powers did not descend. A weak gene at that.” A ghost of a smile.

“Few remain now, often hunted and killed for sport or put to worse use. Cupid’s were once said to be Gods, but no one knew for a fact…” his fiery eyes set flames across your wound as he examines the drying blood on your wing. When his gaze meets yours again there’s a hint of a vile smirk on his lips, “I guess now we do.”

This is too much to process, everything he’s saying. How had you not heard this lore before? All of this time you thought your kind had always come from the lands they lived in, on an island off of the coast. You never knew they’d evolved into something…more

“It is she who lights the flame of love in the hearts of Gods and men,” Eris says, a dismissal in many ways. “I’d watch out if I were you, shadowsinger.”

The lordling steps away, turning to return back to his home, or maybe check on the scared female he’s been spending more time with as of late.

Eris hopes he hadn’t scared her, he was worried about anyone seeing the two of them together in fear of his father finding out, and now the dreaded spymaster of the Night Court knows, as well as the Cupid he was taught were extinct.

His father would have a field day should he find out.

“Hey foxhole,” you call in a burst of confidence. Maybe it’s because of Azriel next to you, pressed up against you like your own personal safeguard. Eris spins on his heel with a snarl, rude retort on the tip of his tongue but you cut him off with your own, “Without me you’ll never find your mate.”

His pale skin turns ashen with realization, the fires in his eyes smothered by your words.

You and Azriel are gone before he can even speak.

#azrielxreader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel/you #azriel/reader #azsazz #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #cupids chokehold #cupid #eris vanserra #azriel

[astrronomemes]

PERCY JACKSON AND THE LAST OLYMPIAN: STARTERS

a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 2009 Rick Riordan novel, Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian. change & alter as needed.

"He's trying to be nice to me, which is almost worse."

"So, hypothetically, if these two people liked each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl, huh?"

"So I guess you guys have to go save the world now."

"You can't count on friends. They will always let you down."

"They don't show you stuff like that in The Little Mermaid."

"He's a pretty nice guy, but you should always keep one hand on your wallet when he's around, and do not, under any circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it."

"If I die, I die. I can't worry about that, right?"

"Are you still having bad dreams? Headaches?"

"I should never have told you about that."

"You run away from things when you're scared."

"You could honor [name]'s memory by fighting with us."

"You can't prevent a prophecy."

"[Name], at least be safe. Promise me you'll be safe."

"If you ever need a warm place to sit and a home-cooked meal, you are welcome to visit."

"You are a good hero, [full name]. Not too proud. I like that. But you have much to learn."

"They don't serve very good enchiladas in the wilderness."

"As I recall, in the old times we almost died a lot."

"Excuse me, but if you're going to kill me, could you just get on with it?"

"With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later."

"You'll do well, [name]. Just remember your strengths, and beware your weaknesses."

"My family hates me. They don't want me. I ran away."

"I tell you what, [name] — you're pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you."

"Knives are only for the bravest and quickest fighters. They don't have the reach or power of a sword, but they're easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy's armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling you're pretty clever."

"You're part of our family now. And I promise I won't let anything hurt you."

"Can we go back to the battle now? I want to do laser mode again. That was fun."

"You should've saved him when you had the chance. You're the only one who could have."

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?!"

"[Name], this is serious! You are not going to loot a candy store in the middle of a war!"

"Just be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. ...I mean, because we need you for the battle."

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, kid? Or are you just extra stupid?"

"Don't I get a kiss for luck? It's kind of a tradition, right?"

"Didn't I kill you already?"

"You're cute when you're worried. Your eyebrows get all scrunched together."

"You are not going to die while I owe you a favor."

"You would have done the same for me."

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

"We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later."

"Oh, demons aren't so bad. You just have to keep them well-fed."

"Your courage does you credit, [full name]."

"The children of the gods must find their own way."

"So it was for my own good? Growing up on the streets, fending for myself, fighting monsters?"

"If I know anything, I know that you must walk your own path, even though it tears my heart."

"I'll bonk him on the head harder next time."

"I don't want him to hurt you anymore."

"And you'll understand if I keep hoping there's a chance you're wrong."

"I didn't know you could fly a helicopter."

"Everybody keeps telling me to sleep. I don't need sleep."

"You know what would help this boy? Farming. Six months behind a plow. Excellent character-building."

"On second thought, I'll be inside."

"That's what I do. I help my friends."

"He promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt."

"Well... sure good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror."

"You and me, that wasn't part of it. Our fates aren't intertwined. I think you've always known that, deep down."

"Is it too late to join the party?"

"Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"I hope that was a monster I just killed."

"I survive all those battles, and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock?!"

"You were like a brother to me, [name]. But I didn't love you."

"I hope... I hope you know I'm really proud to  be your friend."

"No hero is above fear, [name]. And you have risen above every hero."

"Nobody's planning to kill us so far."

"Make us a city for the ages."

"It's just... I've got a lot of life left to live. I'd hate to peak in my sophomore year."

"[Full name], I have had my doubts about you, but perhaps... perhaps I was mistaken."

"[Full name], you might just teach us a thing or two."

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp starters #roleplay starters #dialogue prompts #dialogue memes #dialogue starters #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #rp memes #roleplay memes #sentence memes #sentence prompts #sentence starters

[toweroftickles]

Mini-Fic: Tulin Tickles

I completely 100% blame @otomiyaa for this. 😂 Here I was working on normal things, and she went and reblogged an old Tulin post that got my brain working. So this is not great and was spit out very quickly. Lol

The warm Hebra summer wind blew through Tulin’s crest as he nocked an arrow into his Swallow Bow. This was his last shot…he had to make it count. His tongue poked out of his black beak, and he squeezed one eye tight…the wooden bullseye, scarred by dozens of arrowheads, bobbed up and down on a Korok balloon, 200 yards ahead.

“Come on, Tulin, you’ve got it!” Zelda cheered him. Link tossed her a glance that playfully asked “Whose side are you on?”

“Heck yeah! I’m the best archer in Rito history!” declared the young avian, cocky as always. One last cheeky wink at the competition, and then he took off.

Wings flapped. Claws pulled at taught string. The arrow fired off like a rocket through a spiraling wind, and time seemed to stand still. The target was dancing quickly in the air. With a loud and vibrating THUNK, the arrow struck home…

…on the target’s outside edge. It pulled to the side just in the nick of time to avoid a bullseye.

“Ohhh, that was so close!” Zelda announced. “Sorry, Tulin, that’s 30 to 29…Link wins again!” She dove toward Link excitedly and pecked him on the cheek. Tulin’s face fell.

“Awww, maaaannnnn….” he grumbled and kicked the dirt, pouting. All he wanted was to be a great warrior, just like his dad…and Link. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, it never felt like enough. Teba always told him to “take it easy” or “you’re still a child” or “don’t try too hard” and other boring parent stuff…still, nothing excited him more than tearing holes in the sky with his bow. Why, just imagining all the upcoming practice he’d have to do…it quickly turned his frown into a determined grin.

“Well…I’ll get you next time, Link; you just wait!”

Link smiled and nodded at him, and even flashed a thumbs-up for good measure. Tulin returned the favor…he couldn’t possibly stay grumpy with his friends. But as he turned to retrieve his arrows, he didn’t look where he was going, and clumsily bumped right into the princess, who appeared in front of him as if from nowhere. She didn’t seem to mind, though…she was smiling down at him, her head framed by hanging streaks of golden hair, and she was giggling like a schoolgirl who knew a dirty secret. Tulin looked up into her eyes.

What’s she up to?

"Heehee! Remember the rules, Tulin…”

Oh no.

“…the loser has to pay a penalty.”

When Rito became nervous, their whole bodies prickled like fuzzy pinecones as their feathers stood on end. And at that precise moment, Tulin looked like a very fuzzy pinecone indeed. His eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"W-wait...hold on! We don't have to..." The young Rito stumbled backward away from the princess, stammering, seemingly having forgotten that he could fly. She was slowly walking toward him, hands tucked behind her back, her sunny smile hiding evil intent.

"I'll train EXTRA hard for next time, and...a-and...yike!"

Before he could flutter his wings away, Zelda grabbed Tulin by the shoulders and pushed him down into the high grass. He tried to squirm out of her grip, but his leader plunged her fingertips through his feathery coat and wiggled them up and down, pinching like crab claws under his arms and all over his belly.

Oh no.

"Uhuh-HAA!! *hic* Ah HA-HA Ha-Ha Ha-Ha!! *gasp* Aw...vnnn...ffffHA-Ha Ha!! Huh-Heh HA!!" Tulin's chipper voice kept cracking, his hysterical boyish laughter peppered with shrieks and hiccups as he struggled wildly. He was flapping around like a...well...a Cucco with its head cut off.

"Heh! Your giggle is contagious, Hn-Hn Hn!" Zelda cooed sweetly, lost in her own joyful snickers. She was loving every second of this. “Heehee! Awww, Link; he's sooo ticklish...”

"Luh…Link, HA-HA HA! M-make her stahahop!!” Tulin’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and they hurt from smiling. He hated this…why wouldn’t Zelda stop treating him like a baby? Surely his closest friend, his big brother, the Hero of Hyrule, would rescue him. Surely…right?

No such luck. Link was laughing too. Instead of helping, he knelt down and rummaged through his travel pack, ever the sovereign’s obedient knight…the gears in his head were visibly turning. Out of his supplies he pulled a strange, squirmy object and tossed it near the tussling knot formed by his two friends.

It was a green Lizalfos tail.

The severed appendage, unaware its owner had died, suddenly snapped like a whip and coiled itself around Tulin’s right ankle. It felt cold and craggy and squeezed too tight. Was it trying to snare prey for a non-existent mouth? Tulin couldn’t say…

…he was too busy cracking up. The tip of the tail was flicking back and forth and tickling his foot. He was laughing so hard he’d almost gone silent. Tears stung his eyelashes.

"Hhhhuh, Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha! *gasp* Heheh...NGHa-Ha Ha-Ha HAA Haha-Ha!! H…Hehehelp! Uncle!!!"

But then, out of nowhere and quite instinctively, Tulin was startled to remember something: his Vow.

A huge, cold gust of wind blasted from his flapping wings. The Lizalfos tail ripped from his leg and careened far into a field beyond, and the princess of Hyrule was thrown into the air with the force of a Hinox arm.

She cried out in surprise. Link immediately hopped up to catch her, and although his arms were at the correct height, he misjudged the distance. Zelda’s butt crashed right into his chest cavity, and the wind was knocked completely out of him. He choked, eyes bulging, unable to breathe, and the two crumpled into a heap on the knoll.

Spurred by a mix of shock, guilt, humiliation, and a sore stomach, Tulin sat up in the grass and stared, jaw hung open.

He wanted to be mad. He wanted to huff and pout and not talk to either of them for a day or two.

But looking at Link and Zelda sprawled on top of each other like that, all Tulin could do was laugh.

**************

#tulin of rito village #totk tulin #tulin #zelda totk #tears of the kingdom #totk #link totk #zelda tickle #tickling #tickle blog #tickle #tickling community #tickle fic #sfw tickles #sfw tickling community #sfw tk blog #sfw tk community #sfw tickle community #sfw tickle blog #tk content

[pinkanonwrites]

Seeing that you are familiar with FFXIV. Maybe we could have the Twst Housewardens react to a WOL-MC? Since this is a magic school maybe how would they react to some of the Caster classes if you can. If that's not possible then then ignore the classes react part

No problemo! I ended up going with Summoner because that's the caster class I know the most about (the most being literally any, I'm a filthy melee DPS main and doing other stuff is scary). This also ended up being not really shippy, I hope that's okay.

GN! Reader

You have to be, without a doubt, the most skilled mage Riddle has ever seen in his lifetime. And ooh does that drive him up the wall. You can cast magic willy-nilly, without even a second thought about blot as you summon your strange little creatures to do your bidding? And just what exactly is a "Mothercrystal?" Sometimes it feels to him like you're speaking a foreign language, with all your talk of primals and egi and things and places his well-read brain has never even heard of before. At the very least he can rest safe in the knowledge that you're rarely, if ever, using these tremendous powers to get into major trouble.

You kind of creep him out a bit to be honest. Not like you actually scare him or anything, he just thinks it's weird how gung-ho you are about solving everybody's little problems. Skipping all over campus with your freaky, floating little monsters in tow, with way too much energy for someone who's just been sucked into a new dimension from their own. For the most part he does his best to steer clear of you, as he learned from the first few times he asked you to run an errand for him instead of Ruggie that you'll soon come knocking on his door asking for some sort of favor in return. Leona isn't a favors kind of guy, so it's easier for him to just avoid you.

As per usual, the first thought to cross Azul's mind is "How can I monetize this?" But what Azul will soon discover is that it doesn't matter what sort of obstacle, fetch-quest, or impossible puzzle he can throw at you in a contractually obligated agreement to try and swipe your powers, because somehow, by the grace of a goddess from a literal other dimension, you're able to blast past them all with ease. You make him want to absolutely tear his hair out at every turn, and there's next to nothing he can do about it.

Finally, someone who appreciates what the Warrior of Light has to bring to the table. Kalim is like your own personal cheerleader, he's utterly amazed by everything you can do and are capable of. His favorite pastime is sitting cross-legged on the floor with you in the Scarabia lounge area, carbuncle sleeping in his lap, as he fires off question after question about all the things you've done and seen in your homeworld. When you tell him that this isn't even the first time you've dimension-hopped before, that's when he's certain you've got to be the coolest, most magical mage he's ever gotten to meet.

For the most part, Vil seems to be pretty indifferent to you. He acknowledges that you have some very spectacular skills in magic and summoning, even more so than the most adept students at the academy, but Vil isn't the type to grovel or lower himself to try and gain the friendship of people in power. So if you seem to have no interest in him, he will have little in you. If your glamours transfer over to Twisted Wonderland however? That is a completely different story. He can't help but be curious about your magicked-in fashion, your strange armors and elegant robes of fine design. Tataru would be flattered by all Vil has to say about her excellent craftsmanship.

Nope nope nope nope nope. Idia knows a protagonist when he sees one, and you are a cookie-cutter protagonist by every sense of the word. And the last thing he wants to do is end up as another lame background NPC in someone else's hero's journey. Try as he might though, he can't keep the complete distance he wants because Ortho thinks you're so damn cool. So friendly too! He keeps trying to meddle and get you to meet his older brother and it's starting to give Idia some serious anxiety-shakes. The only thing he's interested in is your carbuncle. A little glowing fox-kitty that you can summon to snuggle at any moment's notice? Sign him up for that!

You fascinate Malleus in a way that he didn't even know he could still be fascinated anymore. For the first time in his life he's meeting someone who might generally outrank him in every sense of power... and he kind of loves it? You're so odd, so overwhelmingly powerful yet so eager to lower yourself to help in even the smallest and most insignificant of circumstances. He's never met someone as humble as you are in his life before, and it's delightfully refreshing. He has plenty to ask about the world from which you hail, and is willing to offer plenty in return, fully safe in the belief that you are the type of person to never, ever try and turn it against him. You are far too virtuous for something like that.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts imagines #leona kingscholar imagines #azul ashengrotto imagines #kalim al asim imagines #vil schoenheit imagines #idia shroud imagines #malleus draconia imagines #my writing

[tblsomedoodles]

Dee couldn’t really understand what Leon went through when they were separated as kids. He thought he understood when he was sent back to his dimension from his Pa’s, but even then it wasn’t truly the same. No, Dee didn’t understand until Leo sacrificed himself to keep the Kraang in the prison dimension. Dee felt complete anguish, sinking down to his knees as he stared at the sky where Leon, his brother, his twin, just was. The technodrome was broken and falling from the sky, buildings were broken and on fire, but the only thing Dee could do was watch that one spot.

“Leon,” he muttered, his entire body shaking. “Leon I,” the fear and anguish grew until a switch flipped in his head. Crisis mode had kicked in. “We’re getting you back,” he muttered, his mind going a mile a minute. He knew dimensional travel was possible, or else he wouldn’t have ended up with his Pa. He also knew that dimensions had what he considered keys. One of those keys is what sent him home in the first place. Sure the key he used was himself, as he was fine tuned to this dimension. So if he could figure out how to find a key in reverse, how to pick something out of a place and bring it back where it belonged, he could get his twin back.

No, that would be too complicated and take too long. Maybe it would be better to focus on dimensional travel in the first place. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he had been trying to figure out dimensional travel since he arrived here. He knew how Uncle Don made the portal to get him here. He knew it enough that he had perfectly recreated it, though for some reason it didn’t work. Either something was missing, or he needed a key. Would a personal key work, or did it have to link to a dimension in the first place? No, if it was personal then he would have been able to go back to his Pops. So he needed a dimensional key. Did the prison dimension have a key? Would one of the Kraang count since they were there so long, or would the Kraang just go back to where they were originally from? If there was a piece missing, something other then a key, would that be easier to find? But what could it possibly be? After all, Uncle Don’s portal would turn on even if Dee wasn’t in the room, so it had a power source. The power source had to be something different here, so what could it be? What did this dimension have that his Pop’s didn’t? What was that unique thing that dictated the realm of possibility?

Then it hit him. Mystics.

“Mikey,” he gasped, turning in time to see Mikey lift his hands, firm determination on his face. Tears fell down his cheeks as he strained, trying to make something happen. At first, nothing happened. It was just Mikey standing there, and Dee watching with all the hope in the world.

‘You are the most powerful mystic warrior the world has ever known,’ Casey had said, and while Mikey didn’t get his powers back until everyone else did, that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Usually Dee wouldn’t believe in something he couldn’t prove, but if believing the near impossible helped the odds tip in their favor, he was going to hope with everything he had. He needed his twin back. He needed him more then anything else.

“Mikey, it’s over,” Raph said, and Mikey shook his head.

“Leo never gave up on us, I’m not giving up on him,” Mikey declared.

“You can do it,” Dee whispered, only loud enough for himself to head. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, he bolted upright as yellow electricity crackled over Mikey, pooling into a circle just in front of his little brother’s hands. The wind whipped around then, as that circle crackled and started to grow.

“Whoa. Mikey, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop!” Raph exclaimed, as the two brothers ran to the youngest’s sides.

The circle began to grow, but as it did, jagged yellow cracks spread up Mikey’s arms, chipping off in places into scattered light. Dee for a moment wanted to tell Mikey to stop. That risking one brother for another wasn’t going to be an answer. He had turned to say it too, when Raph put a hand on Mikey’s shoulder, the cracks transferring up him as well.

‘Of course,’ Dee thought, ‘shared energy!’ he put his hand on Mikey’s arm as well, staring at the growing circle. The energy hurt more then Dee had the words to say, but he was determined as well. If Mikey did this, if this portal opened like it should, then they could save Leon. It was a possibility, and the odds were high. ‘Mikey can do this,’ he chanted in his mind. The energy built up over him and he gritted his teeth. ‘We can do this!’ The energy hit a tipping point, when a different sensation kicked in. He always felt it as the tapping on keyboards. The feeling of gears running against other parts. A mechanical, technological drum that meant his Ninpo had kicked in, igniting his own mystic powers. A glance at Raph proved that his powers kicked in as well.

Then, the portal opened wide, showing Leon floating in an abyss. Leon said something Dee didn’t even hear, and Raph reached in with a projected arm, grabbing hold of Leon and pulling him towards the portal. Kraang appeared shortly after, heading after Leon and the portal, and Dee acted without even thinking. He twirled his bo, summoning a large projection of his drill, sending it rocketing towards Kraang, hitting him directly. He pushed it off quickly, but it gave them just enough time to pull Leon through, Mikey slamming the portal shut right before he could get through.

Everything was silent, before Dee launched himself at his twin. “You’re back! You’re here!” he cried, clinging on tight.

“Yeah, I am,” Leon couched, looking around. “Eww! Are we in Staten Island?” Their other brothers jumped in on the hug, holding just as tight as Dee was. “Okay, okay,” Leon coughed, “please let me go, this is agony.” Mikey and Raph pulled away, but Dee only loosened his grip. “Come on Dee, I’m fine.”

“You are not!” Dee snapped, looking his twin in the face. “You are not fine! Don’t you dare even think of doing that again! I almost lost you! Do you know how that feels? Of course you do, you lost me!” the words poured out of Dee’s lips moments before his brain processed them, and he paused, looking Leon in the eyes. “I… we can’t lose each other ever again.”

Leon nodded, a small smile on his face. “We won’t.” He looked like he had more to say, but he flinched, eyes squeezing shut. “As much as I would love to chat, I definitely need medical treatment.”

Dee processed, and then nodded. “Yes! We need a way back to the lair. Mikey, Raph, can either of you page Splinter or April? Maybe they can help?”

“Already on it,” Raph responded, walking off to talk into his comm.

“What can I do?” Mikey asked, and Dee’s eyes darted around.

“Collect weapons. You and Raph lost yours when we landed, it would be smart to find them.” Mikey nodded and dashed off, combing through the rubble to find his nunchucks and Raph’s sai’s. Dee turned back to Leon, looking him over. He noted blatant signs of broken bones, as well as numerous cuts and bruises. “Leon, you’re going to hate this, but you need a doctor.”

“No!” Leon snapped, looking at Dee with pure panic on his face.

“Yes,” Dee pushed. “I will be right there. They are not going to separate us for a moment okay? I will be right there, but we need to know what all of the damage is. I need to know what bones are broken, and how deep the gashes are.”

“We can’t go to a human doctor,” Leon reminded, and Dee nodded.

“I know, but we can go to the hidden city. They will know how to handle our anatomy. Please, do this for me?” The two twins stared at each other for a while, before Leon gave a very small and scared ‘okay’.

April, Casey, and Splinter showed up soon after in a van.

“Where do you get a van?” Raph asked, and April smiled.

“It was big and still had key’s. We figured it was either this, or my tiny car that may or may not be broken.”

“You stole it?” Raph gasped.

“Don’t think about it son,” Splinter sighed. “You have Leo, he needs medical, so he needs to be able to lay down.” Raph grumbled, but opened the doors before carefully picking up Leon, laying him down in a seat.

“He has agreed to go to a doctor in the Hidden City. We have to get him x-rayed, so that’s where we’re going,” Dee informed his family as he climbed into the van, sitting on the floor in front of Leon, holding his hand.

Raph, Casey, and April ran to help Mikey find the missing weapons as Splinter stayed behind, discussing logistics with Dee, like where they were going to enter the city, and how they were paying for the visit. Dee was never happier that his hobbies paid him.

When the family finally returned home from the doctors, Dee pulled Raph aside. “I am not leaving Leon’s side, but I don’t think we can safely fit in one bed, and we can’t really move our beds in the first place. I don’t know how to fix that situation so I was hoping you could help.”

Raph, even looking as exhausted as he was, smiled. “Of course! Just give me a bit.” Dee nodded and Raph went off to do his task.

“I’m starving!” Mikey declared. “Casey, come help me in the kitchen.” Casey tried to protest, but Mikey grabbed his hand and literally pulled him away.

“I’m going to go help Splints,” April added, heading back to where the group had come in, leaving Leon and Dee alone in the atrium. Dee leaned against his twin, letting out a heavy breath that had been stuck with him since Leon disappeared.

“We’re home, and you’re still here,” he said quietly, and Leon nodded.

“Yes I am.” Dee nodded and took another big breath.

“Yeah, you are.” The purple turtle paused, and closed his eyes. “I felt like someone was digging nails into my chest. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt, and I couldn’t even keep myself from crying. It was the worst pain I have ever dealt with… It was worse then when Pop threw me through the portal back here.” The silence following Dee’s words hung heavy. It was the first time Dee had really talked about when he returned to this dimension. “Was this what it was like when you lost me?” he added quietly, unsure if Leon would even hear him.

Leon had heard him though, and nodded. “It was like losing a large part of myself. We’re twins Dee, always have been. You started where I ended, and I started where you ended. Losing you was like losing half of myself. I never, ever, want to go through it again, and I thought I had when we were separated in the tunnels.”

Dee nodded, closing his own eyes. “Is that why Casey had an unexplained bite mark?”

Leon chuckled nervously. “Yeah, it was. I didn’t mean to, I just panicked.”

Both turtles paused, before saying “We are never splitting up again,” at the same time, causing both to laugh.

“Never again,” Leon promised, and Dee agreed.

“Never again.”

Ten months later, after the Kraang incident had been entirely cleared, Dee, Leon, and Mikey stood in front of a newly rebuilt portal structure. “Are you sure you can do this?” Dee asked Mikey, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course! Your portal does all of the hard work remember? I’m just here to make sure the portal makes the right shape.” Dee nodded and shook his hands, clenching and unclenching them into fists.

“Are you ready for me to meet your Pops?” Leon asked, and Dee let out a heavy breath and a chuckle.

“It’s more am I ready for my Pops to meet you, and yes, yes I am.” Dee pulled a leaver on the portal and watched in wonder as it came to life, creating a swirling sphere. Dee had previously placed his Pop’s sai into a slot in the portal to help key it to the right place, and he eagerly watched as the portal began to clear. He blinked, and found himself staring into the common room of his family’s lair. “It’s there,” he whispered in amazement, and watched his Uncle Don enter the room, looking at a device in his hand, oblivious to the portal. Dee bounced twice in excitement before grabbing Leon’s hand, pulling him through the portal.

“Uncle Don! Uncle Don, I’m home!” Dee shouted, not even caring that his sudden shout had caused his uncle to drop what was in his hands.

“What? Dee?” Uncle Don blinked a couple times before lighting up. “Dee! You’re here!” He gasped, before yelling “Raph get in here! You have a surprise!” as loud as he could.

Dee waited, bouncing with Leon’s hand squeezed in his own. He watched as a turtle came out of the kitchen, and finally let go of Leon’s hand to rush over, grabbing the turtle in a tight hug.

“Dee! You’re home,” Pops gasped, holding Dee in an equally tight hug.

“I’m home,” Dee agreed, “and I brought my twin with me.”

aww! The twins being there for each other is so sweet! This is amazing!

Thank yoU!

#asks #tmnt #rottmnt #adopted donnie au #ficlet

[heirsofdiscord]

Wretched

FFXIVwrite prompt #7: Noisome | 1746 words Hurtful or noxious to health; unwholesome, insalubrious.

Both of Molyneux’s twins were known to be a bit much. If one were to guess by meeting them, Daxue would be more readily chosen as the worst of the two. He was a cantankerous man who didn’t have time for people below his intelligence. Which, considering he could easily get academic recognition from Old Sharlayan if he had the patience to stay there for more than a month or two, was most people. But if one were to catch his attention or prove themselves worthy of respect anyway, he could be quite cordial.

He also had a strong moral center which was something that could only dubiously be said of his twin.

Selene ─ name of a fairy, named for her mother, named for the moon ─ had a way about making people feel at ease around her. She had many friends and other connections that would talk highly of her. She was the sort of woman you went to when you wanted to have a good time. Partying was a sort of specialty. She was not, however, someone you wanted to trust or you’d find yourself in a world of hurt. Especially if one was a girl she found pretty.

Selene’s favorite woman was any woman Daxue had a relationship with. Keeping in mind that Daxue had been in love with the same woman since he was six. That woman though had recognized the threat in Selene’s advances and had rebuffed her just as readily as she rebuffed her brother. “Relationship” in this context was not restricted to romantic ones but extended to just about any woman who was in Daxue’s life be it platonically or strictly business.

Now, Selene was not romanceless. She’d tried to have real relationships with women. She did feel affection and even could love them wholeheartedly. The problem was she found that sort of thing kind of boring at best. Annoying at worst. Her various girlfriends would learn on her, their heads on her shoulder. Selene would be overcome with the intense want to wrap her hands around their delicate necks and squeeze.

Metaphorically speaking only, of course. She wasn’t like her parents; one of the infamous Warriors of Light and the Witch of Doma. Selene just had a particular adoration for things that shined and glittered. Nothing was better than tears. Angry tears, sad tears, didn’t really matter. Though happy tears were a bit weird. Who cried when they were happy? She also liked bumping into them afterward. Selene would wave to them cheerfully and the way their faces would coil in rage or shock or renewed despair. Couldn’t do that if they were dead.

Of course, not all girls were into her and she certainly wasn’t into men. There were other ways to pull the rug out from under them and Selene was an expert in that too.

Selene had managed to catch Daxue’s editor while she was en route to his office apartment. She’d just been shooting the breeze with her when she noticed the way she was favoring her hand was weird. “Thom left you finally huh?” Selene said as if to be sympathetic “,y’know I didn’t want to say anything but he seemed kinda upset with you last time I saw you too.”

Laticia could have acted angrily but she was a meek woman who up until a week ago, was content with her peaceful life. Selene had to give it to her though. She held her own trying to keep her tears in and gracefully excused herself. Laticia had business elsewhere she’d forgotten about. She still walked rather hurriedly back down the corridor she’d come.

“Thom is dead, you idiot,” Daxue’s scathing voice called.

Selene turned to see him standing in the doorway of his apartment, looking at her with the usual judgemental look. They’d both inherited their eyes from their mother; pale and cold. But where Selene’s hair was off-black blue, Daxue’s was an off-white rose. That had made him special, he’d told her so once when they were children. She’d dumped her paints on his hair while he’d slept that night. It was much prettier then.

She grinned at him innocently from behind her sunglasses “,I know.” If she cared about people, she could have been a damned good detective.

Daxue rolled his eyes and walked past her after Laticia with the intent to smooth things over. Selene wasn’t going to let him off easily though and followed after. If breaking people was her favorite hobby, provoking Daxue was her occupation. “Mom said─”

He spun on her, slamming his hand into her shoulder to keep her anchored where she stood. He was a bit of a weakling and Selene wasn’t a half bad fighter. “I have a question for you.”

“Oh?” Selene’s mouth curled with amusement.

“What are you going to do when you finally manage to kill me?” Daxue asked, seriously.

Selene considered, just as seriously. Their fights were childish squabbles once but had escalated in recent years. It was the reason why Daxue had left home when neither of his sisters had. Selene hated her family but she also loved them. But not Daxue. Daxue was something else entirely. She knew he felt the same of her. Sometimes she thought the only reason they weren’t making an actual go at the other’s life was because their parents were dead. But after that? All hats were off.

She grinned toothily at him “,think I’ll throw a party.”

Selene dreamed about it that night. Daxue lay below her, empty eyed after she’d strangled the life out of him with her own two hands. It had felt good in the moment. Then she was overcome with the feeling that she’d fulfilled her purpose. No. She’d failed her purpose. So utterly and completely that some cosmic force that governed their lives was soundlessly screaming at her. It all came spilling out. Everything that had made her her slipped out of her and bounced off the floor. An avalanche of gems and other sparkling things but she couldn’t see them. She was a hollow empty thing, forsaken and unloved for all eternity.

“Couldn’t hold it together for two seconds, huh?” Daxue’s corpse mocked her. His glassy eyes staring at her. Staring at nothing.

She’d woken up in a panic. It’s wasn’t that the dream scared her but she was feeling very much unlike herself. Or more that herself was split into two selves and one was very very wrong. There was a voice that wasn’t a voice. A voice that should have been her voice but she identified it as “Mother” but it was not her mother. It ─ and there were no better words for it than It ─ said to her in a way that was not words but was comfort that she’d not need to worry. She’d never ever be able to beat Daxue. This certainty did not comfort her.

Selene ripped out of bed and raced down the halls in a walk more hurried than Laticia. She didn’t really know what she was looking for until she threw open the doors to her sister’s room. Alicia sat up in bed, her face already alert. Powder blue hair, grey skin; she looked like her father’s daughter even if the Viera wasn’t actually related to the Elezen by blood. Had Alicia had words to speak she’d ask her what was wrong but her inability to speak outside certain situations or fully express her emotions on her face were her only flaw as far as Selene was concerned. She’d threw herself at her and Alicia caught her in an embrace.

Stupid perfect Alicia. She was warm and bright and so loving. Her penchant for justice was unerring where the rest of the Molyneux’s could wibble and merciful when they were unforgiving. She was also safe where their parents were not. Gently petting Selene’s hair while she cried into her shoulder, making a noise she supposed was supposed to be a comforting hum. She couldn’t do this with anyone else and not feel guilt and shame. If there was anything she hated about Alicia is that she had to be so perfect and so loved. She was following in their father’s footsteps and the apple of his eye. Daxue was his mother’s son in all ways. They were alike too much and clashed often but there was love and respect in their fights. Selene was only Selene’s.

She hated these nights when she didn’t feel like herself and the house didn’t feel like a house but a monster that didn’t care for her. It had been normal once, she thought. Montresor had had it built for the comfort of his wife and thus it was made with all the love and adoration he had for her. Then something had creeped up and into it when they were children and it could be so strange. These nights the other her was too strong to be ignored and sometimes Alicia was not here to keep her safe. She’d need to go out into the forest and do something inexplicably violent that could only be her and only her lest she disappear into the thing that wasn’t her.

Much like her uncle; Lochlann. The only other safe person in her family and the one she related to the most. He was her uncle by her grandmother but not her grandfather and thus had no Molyneux blood in him but was no less odd. He certainly stood out among them. He was loud and chaotic where the rest of them were all quiet and contemplative. It was always a whirlwind of happenings when he’d come to visit them but all his strangeness was at the cost of his mind. His thoughts were so hard to tear away from his work because it was the only thing that kept him tethered. Selene was always worried the next time she’d see him he’d be completely lost in his thoughts unable to acknowledge her. She knew by her father’s worried gaze that he feared the same.

She feared that this was the fate of family that were unwanted or unnoticed by the house, by the thing that lived in their blood and coiled in her body like it wanted to escape her. Her thoughts wandered to the dream and it occurred to her she did not know whether that was better or worse than fulfilling any purpose it had had for her. 

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #cwwrite #CH:Selene Molyneux #CH:Daxue Molyneux #CH:G𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔏𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔰 ♣ᵀᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ♣

[mirage-of-the-virtuoso]

Damn it... not again...

"Commander!"

Chrys was struggling to breathe, the pain in his chest blossoming from his fatal wounds. It was mostly his throat that felt shredded.

On the ground, a familiar sight of bloodied petals.

No.

Not again.

He won't pass out again. Not this time.

As he hyperventilates, trying desperately not to cough up more petals and flowers, the charr surrounding him were shouting his name, his title, anything to get a response from the choking mesmer.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Smodur growls, annoyed at the scene. "Don't tell me he's faint-hearted."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Efram growls back. "You want his help, then spit in his face when he does!"

"Do you want to win this war or don't you?!" The Iron Imperator stares at the sylvari, who's still coughing up blood and petals. "We have no time for weakness and frailty."

"The Commander is going above and beyond to help save the charr!" Rytlock angrily spits, fur standing on end. "The only thing you've done is kill more charr!"

"We don't need traitors in our armies!" Smodur huffs. "It'd be much faster kicking in the door and tearing through the Frost Legion with war machines. All of this negotiation has only gotten us nowhere."

"Because you put a knife in our only bargaining chip," Malice hisses. "But what's done is done. We can only move forward."

"Finally, some sense around here." Everyone glared daggers at the Iron Imperator.

Crecia looked around, then swore loudly; in the commotion, Chrysallus had disappeared. "Damn it, where did he go? He's in no condition to fight."

"If he wants to get himself killed, at least he'll take a few Dominion with him."

"Will you think beyond yourself for more than five minutes?!" Rytlock spat. "If he dies, this war is as good as lost. No one else is capable of slaying an Elder Dragon if Jormag wakes."

"Someone needs to talk to the Commander. Get him to calm down." Crecia met eyes with everyone in the area. "We can't let him do anything stupid."

"I'll see if I can track him down," says the Ash Imperator. "He can't have gotten far."

Some time later, Smodur had finally wandered off to the waterfalls near their base. He wasn't expecting to have a rock thrown at his face, nor was he expecting to find the culprit be the MIA Pact Commander, who's still in the midst of a coughing fit. It's a miracle he managed to sneak off.

Then again... he is a mesmer.

When Smodur leaned over Chrys to roll him over, the charr was met with the sylvari swinging blindly with a dagger. When did he get a hold of that?

The charr pins him to the ground and growls, "Get a hold of yourself, Commander!"

Chrys's chest heaves, and he finally coughs up a fully formed flower, bloodied from shredding his throat. He weakly rolls onto his side, still coughing up a petal or two before it ceased.

"What the hell- is this a Sylvari thing?" Smodur asks, his voice much less abrasive at the question.

Chrys bitterly chuckles. "No. Apparently it's just me. I have yet to find another that suffers through this."

The charr helps him sit up. "Is it some type of sickness?"

"...no." He looks at the imperator before looking away with another cough. "According to my mender, it happens when my body can't handle the stress. The only other time this happened, it was when Mordremoth was still alive."

Smodur at first looked annoyed, but considering the rarity of these stress-induced coughing fits, he had to give the sylvari credit for trying to fight through the pain.

"You surprise me, Commander."

Chrysallus looked up, his face full of suspicion.

Smodur said, "Fighting a war outside your own so seriously that it induces the same sickness as fighting an elder dragon that traumatized your entire race? Never would have expected that out of another. Do yourself a favor. Don't let it happen again." The mesmer looked annoyed as he clarified, "We can't afford to have one of the main leaders and warriors out of commission. We have brief intermissions between attacks, we take advantage of them. For you, that means slowing down and taking a breather. We have enough bodies between us and the Frost Legion to stall until then."

"Is this your attempt at compassion?" Chrys asks, chuckling hoarsely at Smodur's 'orders'. "It's appreciated, for what it's worth. I expected any other charr to find me, much less you to talk to me."

"I'm of the belief that tough love gets you places that diplomacy won't. Someone has to be able to do it, and I doubt it's the other imperators." It was strange hearing someone other than an honor-bound charr laughing at his commentary, much less a sympathetic race like a sylvari. But there Chrysallus was, laughing all the same.

"Suppose so." The mesmer lays there on the ground. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to help me back to camp? Unless you prefer me crawling and dragging myself there."

He has an odd sense of humor, cracking jokes at a time of weakness. Maybe they could get along a little better.

Chrys was shocked when Smodur picked him off the ground. "Maybe if you stress yourself out this bad again, I'll make you crawl back after chucking you into the water."

"If it gets that bad again, I wouldn't blame you."

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

When they made it back to the others, Malice and Crecia smiled at the pair before the sylvari was passed off to Braham and Rytlock. Smodur barked, "What are you two staring at?" as the members of Dragon's Watch checked on Chrys.

Having successfully convinced the Iron imperator that they have a peaceful enough relationship, Chrys toys with the dagger in his hands. He needs to do damage control. While he despises Smodur with a fiery passion, the Legions currently can't afford to lose too many of their remaining leaders.

Smodur being as stubborn as he is, he's already a dead man. If not by Ryland, then by one of the "traitors" who took issue with his demands and actions.

Until then, Chrys can play civility. He can play nice enough and get what he wants. After all, how do you fight the dragon of persuasion if you easily fall victim to the manipulation of those around you?

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

There were knives stuck in the trees later, daggers being seen in close proximity to each other. Looks like someone was doing a little target practice. Knowing the Commander's odd little quirks, some believed it was Chrys's handiwork. Others were concerned about his allegiance in light of these suspicions.

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

Ryland shot Smodur.

This comes as a surprise to no one, but they are in a panic nonetheless. He's basically hired muscle in this whole arrangement. Then again, Chrys doesn't know enough about charr politics and culture, so he doesn't comment on it unless asked.

Being shot for disrespecting a peaceful parlay, in Chrys's eyes, was a justified reaction. It was only because he had to maintain a sense of composure and diplomacy that he didn't assassinate Smodur himself. It sure was tempting though.

This wouldn't have happened if Smodur had any sense of tact and self-control. If he could have seen past Ryland being "the enemy", they could have saved both Ryland and Cinder from their fate.

A cough or two escapes him, feeling nauseous again. A few coughs later, more petals were revealed in his hand. He tossed the evidence of his pain into the nearest fire.

He can't afford to be seen as weak, as broken under the pressure.

... Damn the consequences. He'll rest when the job is done, or when he's dead again. There's no other option.

#crystal echoes: chrysallus #ibs spoilers #pact commander chrysallus #ibs era: chrysallus #takes places in drizzlewood coast. sometime between cinder being stabbed and smodur being shot #put a read more thingy to make it take up less space

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 9

Gif by @criston-cole

It had been almost an entire month since Laena’s funeral when father comes to tuck her in.

“Father used to come tuck us in before he left on his voyages.” He says as he tucks Ghar in as well. “I remember how much me and my sister cried when he told us he was going to the Farman Islands.”

“Is something wrong?” She asks him concerned.

He was acting strange, he had been acting strange since his sister died, but tonight he is acting as if he may never see them again.

“No, Aem, I’m fine. I’m not dying, besides you already claimed Silverwing, so Helaena’s prophecy cannot come true.” He says as he lies down on the empty side of the bed.

Usually, it’s Teora who sleeps on it, but father sent her away.

“I was your age when I claimed Seasmoke. Rode him and went after father to show him, but I didn’t know how to command Smoke to land so father and I just shouted at each other until mother came and taught me how to do it. Did you know he made the Seasnake with enough space on the deck so mother could land Meleys on it?” he is sad, and him telling her these things is far better than him sitting all alone chest deep in the ocean.

No chance of drowning and dying here.

Aemma only nods in response.

“I am going to the Stepstones with Qarl to fight.” He says and Aemma wished he hadn’t said that.

He wants a warrior’s death, to enter the Isle of the Blessed knowing he died fighting.

“Will you take Seasmoke?” Aemma asked. He always takes his dragon, if he takes Smoke he won’t die.

“I don’t know yet; he has grown as lazy as his mother. Maybe he just wants to stay with his family, raise his four children and watch the stars with his grandmother.” he laughs, but its a sad thing that makes his eyes well up with tears he’s trying not to shed.

It wasn’t manly for him to cry for his sister so he had stayed in the beach to cry with no one’s judgement.

He said grandfather did that when his mother died. Didn’t think the world would go to shit in the time he needed to mourn his sister.

Even said a curse word tonight, Aemma wonders if he even noticed he said it.

“I can’t let you go without---” the princess says getting up from bed and going to her box of ribbons. She takes out the bluest of her ribbons that she embroidered herself during her lessons.

The seahorses were crooked and one of the dragons missing the third head, but she had been waiting for a tourney so she may give it to father or Harwin or Ser Erryk.

“The highest of honors, my favorite princess’ favor.” He said looking at the crooked stitches.

“It’s not my best work, but when you come back, I will give you one that’s better.” Aemma said quietly.

“No, this one is special, Aem.” He smiles sadly and holds it tightly in his hand. “This one was given to me by the princess I love more than anything. Its worth more than all the treasures in the world, but there is a way to make it more precious.

May I have a lock of your hair for good luck, Aemma?”

And she sits still as he gently cuts a lock of her hair and ties it with his own hair tie.

“Can I come see you off when you go?” she asks when he kissed her goodnight and was already by the door.

“You can follow me as far as Tarth, sweetling.”

Those were the last words her father ever said to her.

----

“It’s missing a head this one.” Qarl points to the dragon right in between Aemma’s name and family name.

“The Seahorses are missing hoofs and the falcon is missing it’s moon, good thing she will be a queen not a seamstress.” Laenor says as he prepares the last of his things.

They are to make it look like Qarl robbed him and then killed him in his father’s great hall.

He should leave the ribbon, but he doesn’t.

“Do you think she will hate me?” the man asked his lover.

“Better she hate you for living than hate you for dying, my love.” His lover answers as he knocks over the bag of sapphires and takes a handful. “If she is anything like my sisters, she will hate Rhaenyra for remarrying so soon.”

“If they don’t do it now, they will assume the baby is a posthumous child of mine.” Laenor shook his head. “Besides, Aemma adores Rhaenyra, she would never hate her.”

“She will if she thinks she and Daemon killed you. I am telling you, this is a bad idea.” Qarl drinks the last of the wine. “Are you ready to die, my dear Ser Laenor?”

“Ready as will ever be.” Laenor said as he closed the secret passageway behind Qarl.

----

“Aemma, my love.” Mother is choking back her tears as she wakes her.

No.

No.

It couldn’t be, Aemma had done everything to stop Helaena’s vision from coming true!

“You are lying, I claimed Silverwing not Seasmoke. He can’t be dead!” Aemma cries out.

“I am so sorry, sweetling.” Mother tries to hold her, but Aemma pushed her away.

Father cannot be dead.

“Aemma!” mother shouts as she runs after her.

Aemma doesn’t stop running until she reaches where Maester Kelvyn puts the bodies for the Silent Sisters.

“He’s dead, Correy burned his face, but its him.” Daemon says as he shows her to where the body is.

But she isn’t listening, Aemma is too busy searching for the pocket in his jerkin where he put her ribbon and the lock of her hair for good luck.

It’s empty.

“This isn’t him. He’s not dead.” She tells them and all of them look at her as if she were insane.

“He is gone, Aemma. His squire was there, he saw him die.” Grandmother holds her back.

“No, he’s not dead. Earlier I gave him my ribbon and he asked for a lock of my hair. He put them in his pocket when he left, his pocket is empty.” She points and the Rogue Prince looks at her with a hint of fear.

The prince lies and everyone believes him, “Correy may have stolen them and kept them as trophies, he was fond of keeping such trophies during his time in my service.”

Why is he lying? Qarl liked collecting things of value, like jewels and weapons and coin. He’d never steal hair.

“She will need guards, the Greens must be behind it, they want us weak. We know what Larys Strong did to his father and brother.” Teora quickly suggests after saying a prayer for her nephew.

“You are right, little sister, but I do not think we can blame the Queen’s party for everything that befalls on the men in Princess Rhaenyra's life.” Vaemond nods and looks at the Rogue Prince with suspicion.

Had he noticed his shiftiness too?

“My husband is dead, your nephew was murdered tonight. My children have lost their father, now is not the time for your accusations, my lord,” mother reprimands him as she comes to say her goodbyes.

“I loved Laenor, you may not believe me, but I loved him and would have never hurt him.” Her mother says and Aemma knows she is not lying.

“I am not accusing you, I am accusing him.” Vaemond spits in Prince Daemon’s direction. “It wasn’t enough to kill Laena, you had to kill Laenor as well. I see you for what you are---”

“Enough!” Corlys shouts. “My children are dead, my son’s murderer has escaped and you stand here accusing the wrong people. I will hear no more of it.”

Father’s funeral is scarcely over when mother weds Daemon Targaryen.

Aemma refuses to attend it.

#aemma velaryon #asoiaf fanfic #house of the dragon #someone will remember us fic #oc fanfiction #asoiaf au #laenor velaryon #hotd fic #rhaenyra targaryen #fyeahhotdocs

[mxanigel]

Where do I start with this fic? Born as a one-shot inspired by my first-ever Awakening run (which has since spawned an entire worldstate), I wanted to explore a Warden who survived the Battle of Denerim but didn't romance any of the DAO companions. I used my first-ever Warden as the initial inspiration, but Neri Surana is ultimately quite different from that character.

My beloved demiromantic pansexual agender arcane warrior, ice mage extraordinare and Arlen of Amaranthine. They carry the weight of their Circle past and the burden of having battled through the Fifth Blight. Neri rejected Alistair's advances but also forced him to be king alongside Anora as queen. They were wholly unprepared to fall for Anders, and they refuse to name their feelings… until it's too late.

This story has been challenging for me to write from Neri's gender dysphoria to their imposter syndrome (too much like me) to their eagerness for sex but discomfort with romance (not at all like me). But I adore them. I love their journey and their growth. And I promise I'll post another chapter in the not-too-distant future.

An emotion I won't name

Rating: M Word count: 47,493 [ongoing] Relationship: Anders/Warden (also Felsi/Oghren and Sigrun/Velanna) Tags: Agender Character, Banter, Companionable Snark, Angst, intimate medical attention, Explicit Consent, LGBTQ Themes, Smut, Self-Doubt, Politics, Blood and Violence, Anders Positive, Found Family, Gender Dysphoria

Neri Surana: former Circle mage. Hero of Ferelden. Warden-Commander. Never been in love (probably), never sought it out (definitely). But after an unexpected kiss from Anders, Neri can't stop thinking about him, and they aren't ready for what those thoughts imply.

If I never enter the Fade again, it’ll be too soon. First my Harrowing, then that blighted sloth demon’s domain in the Circle Tower, then saving Connor. All of which happened before facing a bloody Archdemon. Then again, given my luck in life, perhaps I should’ve expected that investigating darkspawn activity in Amaranthine would somehow send me back into the Fade.

A trip preceded by finding tears in the Veil. I’m not anywhere near ready to wrap my mind around that. Our subsequent journey through the Fade closed those tears. I think. They were gone by the time we returned to reality, and that outcome has to be good enough for now.

Exhausted and wounded, I trudge through the muddy courtyard of Vigil’s Keep, Anders and Sigrun and not-Kristoff-but-Justice in tow. With the rush of battle long faded from my system, I’m all too aware of my fellow mage’s presence. Shit.

Then I spot a slender figure standing next to the well. Maker, not Aura, not now, not before I have time to consider the ramifications of a Fade spirit taking over a Grey Warden’s corpse—

Of course Aura sees us, of course she confronts us, of course she runs away heavy with grief, of course Justice wants to do something for her. Later. After rest, healing, washing up. Later.

At the Keep’s front steps, the private has nothing to report. Thank everything still good in this world that there are no new errands or favors or crises for me to handle.

“Neri, are you all right?” Anders murmurs near my ear as our small group slowly climbs the stairs toward the throne room.

He’s too close. My heart pounds, and I glance at the wall. “Tired. Been a long few days.”

“Fair. Exploring the picturesque scenery of the Blackmarsh would exhaust anyone.” He rests a hand on my shoulder; I fight not to grimace. “Want me to take a look at you?”

Fuck, yes. I’m shocked by the intensity of my own thought. One I can’t admit aloud, definitely not in front of others—especially not Anders himself. I try to shrug off his touch. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m just tired. I promise.”

[Read the full fic on AO3]

#da fanfic #dragon age fanfic #anders #anders x warden #neri surana #da awakening #OTP: what's unnamed still connects us #first person POV #somehow this fic gets steamy at times #my writing #noctilucent cloud creations

[bokettochild]

WIP WEDNESDAY!! >:))) If you’d like to participate, Bo! <3

Sure thing!

This is from a little comfort fic I'm writing myself, but I'm open to sharing

Fetch quests were both the best and he worst in Legend’s experienced opinion. When they were quick and convenient, a quick ‘round up my stray dog’ or ‘bring me an ingredient’, he didn’t mind. More often than not he’d already found what was wanted on accident and may or may not have been trying to find the owner as was, because some stupid part of him couldn’t let go of Uncle's insistence that if you could feasibly help a person, you should. The old knight had often said it brought good karma of some sort to help people when they needed it, but in Legend’s opinion, as much as he loved his uncle, the words were a bunch of hog wash. As far as he could see it, the only kind of karma currently making any moves in his life was the sort that nearly killed him (or actually had killed him, despite it not actually sticking) too much for him to put any stock in the old advice.  

 Still, he found himself helping where he could, and somehow or another that had landed him shivering his face off, cursing Ravio for stealing his last and only scarf months ago, cursing the blasted pair of pants someone had lent him which rubbed over old scars and irritated his skin so freaking much, and hardly did anything to fight the stinging chill that pushed past the rough fabric to bit at his legs, and to curse fetch quests in general because run around ones genuinely sucked!  

 Still, their informant, like most in his experience, wouldn’t give them anything of aid to their actual, save-the-world-because-something’s-trying-to-kill-it-again quest until they had first grabbed some item or other for him. Legend didn’t care what the blasted thing was (it was a fishing pole of all the stupid things to have on a blasted mountain of all places) but they finally had it and were actually headed down and he was just...so ready to collapse into an inn bed and fall asleep.  

 Granted, based on his experience for the last several days, it wouldn’t be a kind sleep, and granted, his pillow would be a bit damp because like it or not he couldn’t stop from tearing up when they all settled down and Time let his pups curl up on either side of him and Wind sprawled over Warriors’ chest while the captain read him poetry in a thick, lilting accent and Four settled against Skys back and Hyrule did whatever he pleased that made him most comfortable and....  

 Legend was just sore, he swears. His aching joints and cold bones were the only reason he’d sit up biting his cheek raw until they’d all drifted off and then finally let himself sag into place. His pillow wasn’t even all that damp anyway, just cold. He’d trained himself not to cry years ago, knew it wouldn’t help his case any when half the world already saw him as a weak child who’d spent half his life curled up in bed and sick to the point of near death. Crying didn’t help anything.  

 But by Lolia’s moon he wanted to actually be able to cry.  

 But crying was pointless because it did no favors and just made all the aches worse, besides also making his throat raw and his eyes hurt (not that his vision wasn’t currently swimming out at random times anyway) so it really wasn't a bad thing.  

 Especially since they would give him away.  

 It was... irritating.  

 On one hand, there was a part of him that huffed in a self-satisfied manner as they neared the base of the mountain. No one had noticed and that meant he’d done a great job of keeping his issues to himself and not opening himself up for the bloody irritating business that was letting people in and trying to process all the shit in his mind. On the other hand though; no one had noticed.  

 The more bitter part of him wished that they would.  

 The practical part of him hissed back that it would do no good.  

 Both parts were arguing very violently, not with each other but with his heart which wanted very much to agree with both (because depending on people meant being crushed when they left you to bear things alone, but he’d been bearing it so long so was it really so bad to ask for help?) when Time spoke up from the front.  

 “Watch yourselves, this is where Four slipped earlier.”  

#ketto's wips #lu legend #linkeduniverse #linked universe

[amorficzna]

I mean, I gotta ask for "shadowheart sad."

I was hoping to share from this one - I was in my feelings for this one, and was also thinking about Shadowheart's sudden lack of/uncertainty around her identity. How she wants to love fast and hard but how it ends up hurting her in the end, because she doesn't know herself yet, what she wants or needs. How those first memories of love will be painful but something she will carry onwards. Most of the meat of it is here - I'm still pondering about expanding and/or posting eventually.

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

Moonlight fills her body like an empty cup, one that threatens to spill and topple over with each step forward she takes in Her light. Now that she can, she loves hard and she loves fast, even though she will crash and burn, even though it will leave her empty afterwards. She will not - cannot - stop. Like a dying star heading for the Spine of the World, ever empty and torn apart.

First she will love the wizard. But he will be too shrouded in his words, jealousy and uncertainty tainting her for it. She doesn't know what he means behind pretty promises, ones that change and shift like the Weave around his fingers. Ones that crumble like cinders when the Weave sings his sweet name, Karsite and his belladonna promises giving him evermore than she could with her thick tongue.

Then it will be the gith warrior. She dances how she fights, and speaks to her in the ways she knows - in brutal touches and furrowed brows that remind her of Mother Dearest in her ebony tower. Her neck is purple but she comes back for more. But not even the bruises stay on her moonlit skin as the gith finds a new target - Vlaakith herself. Shadowheart will know, by then, that she cannot compete with a goddess, whether for favor or for fight.

Her heart is next devoured by the sharp teeth of the vampire spawn, his grip on her tight as he sucks her dry from neck to toes, until she thinks she can be nothing but cold and dead once he is done with her. And even then he will not love her. He will shield himself from Cazador’s whipping words behind her body, and only once he devours seven thousand more will he give her a sweet kiss that she can do nothing but refuse.

The Grand Duke casts a wide shadow across his son, Mizora’s overlapping and elongating it until Wyll is swallowed whole by them. He is sweet, she thinks, until his father talks through him like a puppet, his lips moving but the voice of Ulder speaking through the soft lips she thought she loved, once. It will be okay, she thinks, because he will forget her, once he is a Duke in his own right, the shadow of Mizora fading and the silhouette of Grand fitting him snugly until she cannot recognize him.

Karlach she will love till the end, but even that is not enough to fix a heart that cannot be mended. Instead, Shadowheart will be covered with her ashes, and she will weep until her cheeks run dark with her kohl and the pinpricks left of what is Karlach. The rest she will try to gently catch between her open palms, but they will not hold her heart any longer.

She will disappear after that, before they celebrate, before they each rip apart the planes in their own ways. Before she sees how they feast and sup and tear bread like they will tear bodies and cities and words between them.

For her, these are all of her memories, but for them it will be but a mere blink of their eyes that slowly fades with time that she will disappear. Yet here she will find her first steps and her loves and her first tears. She will have no choice but to remember each of them, five swords piercing her heart in beautiful agony with each step forward she takes.

#bg3 #shadowheart #my beloved #writings

[hey-michael-young-history]

Two Parent Home Part 2

Kuai Liang and Hydro have a conversation. (the idea of sorrow smelling like rain and petrichor comes from @mcbethins)

“What is it like?”

Kuai Liang frowned but his eyes remained closed. “This time is dedicated to meditation, not conversation, Mitsunari.”

He realigned his focus but the boy spoke again. “It’s Hydro. And Lì-Yán said that I should ask you these questions.”

He didn’t respond to that. Kuai Liang had a habit of not responding when Hydro mentioned her. 

He decided to have a little fun. “So… she’s like us, right? Exactly like us. If we made a baby, do you think the baby would be like us too?”

Provoking one’s opponent was an easy way to gather information. Hydro concentrated and knew that even though Kuai Liang remained silent, his pheromones were growing in intensity. They were filling the room at uneven levels. He must be trying to contain them. 

But they were not angry, as Hydro thought they would be. They carried the dampness of rain. 

He felt uneasy, as though he’d made a misstep. Queasy and anxious. 

Finally, Kuai Liang smiled wryly. “You have overstepped and now your Omega instincts are reprimanding you.”

“I didn’t do anything but ask a question,” Hydro argued. 

“Though I am not an Alpha, you are still socially submissive to me,” Kuai Liang explained. “And by upsetting me, your guard has been raised and you are remorseful. You will continue to feel this way until you have my favor again.”

Socially submissive? Your favor? Hydro turned down his eyes angrily. It was bad enough that he was an Omega, but the suggestion that he was the lowest Omega on the totem pole was infuriating. He was Lin Kuei. 

But… but so was Kuai Liang. He was an elder of the Lin Kuei now, even older than the elders of Hydro’s time. And he was Sub-Zero’s brother. Hydro still struggled with the idea that not only was Taiga his superior, he was the grandmaster. 

His stomach suddenly tightened and twisted. Hydro kept his back straight even though it felt like his spine was tingling. His stupid big mouth. He wasn’t even interested in Lì-Yán. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” he mumbled. 

“Apology accepted,” Kuai Liang said. He smiled, a little more gently. “Good job.”

Good job. Hydro’s face heated up and he didn’t trust himself to say anything. Relief spread through him quickly, like he’d just had an hour-long massage. This was not good. How could he be a warrior if he was so fucking submissive to everyone around him? It was bad enough that his ice didn’t work, now he was restricted by this?

He was flooded with sorrow and now he could smell himself. That heavy petrichor scent dampening the room. 

Fingers were on his face, wiping… tears. Hydro looked up to see Kuai Liang’s scarred face. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and touched the scar that ran from above his eyebrow to his cheek. 

“You are still a warrior,” the older Omega said, gently taking his hand. “You will be able to face any Alpha that challenges you.”

“How?” Hydro demanded angrily. “Why do you even care?”

Kuai Liang closed his eyes. “We are Lin Kuei. More stealthful than the night.”

“More deadly than the dawn,” Hydro finished. He exhaled, shoulders sagging. “Why am I so tired?”

“You are experiencing many feelings all at once. You were cyberized and even before that, you were taught to never reveal your true face. Emotional regulation is tiring,” Kuai Liang explained. 

“How do you know all of this? You don’t know what it was like,” Hydro snapped. “Being dragged to that hellhole, just to be beaten, mocked, and rejected. Having your soul ripped from your body and shoved into a machine where you aren’t even you.” 

He recalled Bi-Han’s glare and Lì-Yán’s fear when they saw him and clenched his teeth. “To be used as a mindless tool. And then, as if it wasn’t bad enough, your body decides to fuck you over and make you the lowest person on the totem pole. How could you know what that’s like!?”

He didn’t fit in, in this world, just like he didn’t fit in, in his. Hydro exhaled and held himself, desperate not to cry in front of a Lin Kuei elder. Why didn’t he just die? Why was he here? When was everything going to just stop?

Kuai Liang pulled him against his chest and dammit, why did he smell so good? He smelled like jujubes and lychee but also warm. Like marshmallows, a treat Hydro hadn’t had since his original life in Japan. 

Tears leaked from his eyes and a vibration built in his throat again. The fucking purring. 

A deeper purr rumbled in Kuai Liang’s chest and it, along with the sound of his heartbeat and his pheromones… Hydro’s eyelids sagged. Damn it. He had gotten upset and was being put to sleep like a child again. 

Before the world faded, he looked up at Kuai Liang. His eyes were closed but Hydro was surprised to see tear tracks on his face.

#ALL OUT WAR!? #kuai liang #mk hydro #mk omegaverse #kuai liang the dad #just as awkward as his own father

[dragonbanexxi]

The Dragon Queen

Not Canon Compliant!!!!!

Jaehaera Targaryen x Aegon III Targaryen

Chapter: 7 Jaehaera

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“You think you can just waltz into our city like you and your savages did not steal from us yesterday morning?” The Great Astapori Master says in a pompous drawl as he leans back into his seat.

Jaehaera noticing the chair the master was sitting on, was made of gilded gold and of dried woven bamboo shoots. Such craftsmanship had to have been made in the far east. Moraq, maybe even Yiti.

Regardless Jaehaera was finding that if all goes well, the golden seat would leave with her.

“I’ve come to strike a deal with Great Master.” Her pearly smile seductive. Her lilac eyes simmering in the sunlight.

The man in front of her began to smile as well. Reacting to her subtle seduction.

The Astapori man’s gaze trailing down her body. Jaehaera gracefully tossing her hair behind her shoulder to show off her collarbones. Teasing the slightest amount of cleavage.

If only Alicent Hightower could see her now. Her pious grandmother would faint at the sight her little Haera acting like a harlot. The feel of cringe was scanning down her spine. In another life perhaps Jaehaera would have been more like her grandmother. A faithful follower of the Seven. Yet Alicent Hightower isn’t alive anymore and Jaehaera has to do whatever it takes to survive.

The Green Princess hiding her cringe well; the Astapori man is responding well to her coyness. Having the man in a snake like trance would work in her favor.

“I’m interested in buying your unsullied.”

And just like that the trance was broke. The Great Master spluttering in shock before turning serious once more.

“You cannot afford my unsullied girl.” Sneering the word girl. As if he wasn’t just eating her up with his eyes seconds ago. Jaehaera keeps her cool.

“What makes you say that your greatness?” Feeding into his ego. Responding to him as if he were some king. She needs him back in her trance to pull this heist off.

The Great Master legs widened just the tiniest bit. The Princess understanding that her flattery was working even if the man was trying to hide it.

Remembering the words of the late Khaleesi Barha whom Jaehaera burned alive; “Tears aren’t the only weapon women have girl, the best ones are between your legs.” Jaehaera may have hated the late khaleesi, but in many ways Barha spoke with truth. Boasting that all men were slaves to their desires. One just had to morph themselves into the object of their greatest desire. The late Khaleesi could have had any man she wanted eating from her palms. All it took was a sultry twinkle in her eyes and a pouty mouth.

Jaehaera ever the student observed the woman thoroughly, and learned a trick or two.

“Currently you don’t even have not even one hundred Dothraki in your hoarde and most of them are women and children.” He scratched his beard, eyes once more on her cleavage.

“You wouldn’t even be able to buy twenty unsullied warriors with what you have.”

Jaehaera leans back in her seat now. It was time for her to offer up the secret weapon.

“I have something else that might interest you.” Her valyrian sultry, as she smiles once more at the ugly man.

A thrill it was to see a man twice her age hesitate.

The eyes never lie, and his black eyes were ready to risk it all for her. Desire clouding his better judgment. His breathing quickening as Jaehaera lightly grazes her collarbone with her dainty fingers.

The Master failing to hide the want of her, asks “What do you have to offer?” His voice breathy.

The Westerosi girl smiles coyly “I have three dragons.” All she heard was the deep inhale from man.

“I’ll trade you one of them.”

“Two!” The man demanded.

“ONE!” Her eyes Harden. “They’re still babies so they’ll be easier to train.”

The man growling in disdain but agreeing nonetheless.

“Also I want my Dothraki girl back. The one with the golden eyes.” This brought out a sneer on the man’s face.

“Why? You’re already trading your savages for my unsullied.” He spats.

Jaehaera smiles seductively once more. “She’s pretty, I like pretty things.”

Not a complete lie. Jeena was pretty but there was no romantic feelings between the too. The Green Princess just needed to see if Jeena was alright, unharmed. Jeena was deeply in love with Yorroh and he with her.

Jaehaera really wanted it to come across as provocative and leave the master ruffled with suggestive thoughts.

“Very well… return at noon.” Was all he said as he got and left.

What he didn’t see, was the smile Jaehaera had on her face resembling a sly fox. A conspiring twinkle gleamed in lavender eyes. The power coursing through her veins was intoxicating. Divine feminine energy, she muses in her mind… was proving to be addictive.

“Ser Robert remember to bring the chair with us when we’re done.” Says the Green Princess oddly cheery.

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I wish to clarify that Jaehaera will not be a clean cut character. She will do things she knows she shouldn’t do, but it’ll be for the greater good. Next chapter will also be a Jaehaera pov! Thank you guys for being so nice to me! ❤️

#aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen x aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #jaehaera x aegon iii

[woodsfae]

Howdy all! I've been having a rough last few days week month year life time lately, and yesterday when I burst into tears after Partner asked me if I had a certain tax form, I knew it was time to sit my ass in a hot springs and stare at trumpeter swans. So I did! And it was great. I'm so very lucky to live in a place where I have a dozen hot springs within two hours' drive, and exceedingly lucky that one of my favorites overlooks a pond full of beautiful waterfowl. So now I am refreshed, still cigarette-free, and ready to watch more Babylon 5!

Babylon 5 S01e13: By Any Means Necessary First Previous

Table of Contents

Very Ominous Title.

Remind me never to work in cargo receiving. That looks awful. They’re really busting their cojones trying to process everything down there.

Collision?? Eeeeeeeee yikes no this is bad looking.

Industrial accidents are generally very bad. I physically recoiled from the screen. Probably I’ve read one too many graphic descriptions of trainyard squishings.

G’Kar finds out the G’Quan Eth was destroyed when the Narn ship’s cargo bay was destroyed - it’s interesting that the Narn language also follows Q with a U.

The cargo staff is working triple hours?! Fuck no, get a union and some more staff. And lowballed construction installed low quality chips. Looks like this is going to be a Working Conditions and Unionization episode. I’m a Union Person through and through. Bring it on.

The G’Quan Eth must be related to the Holy Days of G’Quan that Londo is tormenting him about. And it’s a flower! And Londo Mollari has one, duh. Love their hatred for each other. It’s always entertaining.

Earth won’t fund a higher budget for Babylon 5 safety (how like a government). So the cargo crew are striking! Well done. The words “illegal strike” should enrage everyone, automatically. And motivate them to strike, too.

They’re lucky if they get a four hour turnaround after working a double shift. ye gods. I was already on their side, but now I’m trying to figure out ways to go agitate with them.

Maybe don’t ask Eduardo to be the coolest head. His brother just died. Garibaldi is acting very coplike again, he’s rapidly losing his Limp Dishrag (affectionate) status.

“Look, you’ve made your point and Earth Central will be made aware of your grievances. There’s nothing else you can gain by continuing to strike.”

Baby, those are the magic words that let the workers know that their strike will Hit Em Where It Hurts and Guarantee Change. Don’t back down now.

“You get us decent pay and equipment and hire enough workers to do the job safely, then we return to work. Not a minute before.”

fuck yeah.

🎶I don’t need a rational to sing the International 🎶

Mollari is having a blast tormenting G’Kar, and I’m having a blast watching it!

Honestly I wanna try this G’Quan Eth hallucinogenic. Mollari’s a fuckhead but I think he’d be fun to trip with.

Senator, you know what looks even worse and sets an even worse precedent than striking Dockers Guilds? Your Shining Star of Diplomacy falling down around your ears and killing off your Dockers, of whom you already don’t have enough.

Orin Zento, their best “labour negotiator,” sounds like a union-buster. Fuuuuuuck noooooooo.

🎶 there is power in a union 🎶

I hate Orin Zento already. Such a smarmy shitface.

“I’ll kill [Mollari] with my bare hands! By my [????] there’s nothing to stop me! Sinclair can only kick me off the station! He might even thank me.”

pfffft bahahaha. So good. And Na’Toth’s entire mien for the whole ragefit. So good.

G’Kar: “We all believe in something greater than ourselves, even if it’s just the blind forces of chance.”

Na’Toth: “Chance favors the warrior.”

God I love her.

Gonna figure out how to get onto Babylon 5 and kick Zento’s face in. Blaming the accident on the Dockers, if only by implication? Going to squish his face like a grape.

Well done scruffing up Sinclair. He looks exhausted.

“Beg your pardon Commander, but if someone pushed you, wouldn’t you push back?”

That’s damn right. The state and corporations commit violence against the workers every day, but we’re always blamed and told that violence isn’t the answer once we can’t take the constant violence on ourselves any longer.

Hoping Sinclair refuses to order the soldiers under his command to obey Zento’s orders to attack the civilians. It is bonkers to me that the state is like “yeah let’s side with nonpersons and attack the civilians with the military; that’ll definitely make them loyal and dedicated workers!”

I’d watch a whole tv show about Ms Neeoma Connelly.

The lungs on Ivanova!

Lotta “unfortunately”s being thrown around by people who won’t be in any danger during the conflict.

The Senate has sent replacement workers. Keep em as additional ones, boom, half the problem solved.

Sinclair coming through and being highly pendantic about what “by any means necessary” covers.

“You should never hand someone a gun unless you’re sure where they’ll point. Your mistake.”

This episode should have been called 48 Awake: Sinclair Never Did Get That Nap

alternatively, Sinclair Interprets Regulations and Religion Creatively

The most utopian thing in this show so far: the Senate disagrees with Sinclair’s decision but are letting it stand since public opinion is on the Dockers’ side.

It’s Zento’s choice to feel embarrassed. What does he care if Dockers are paid more? He can claim he was supportive of the move and boost his negotiating reputation further.

hell yeah sci fi unions.

on to the next!

#babylon 5 #neeoma connelly #union! #unionizing #Spotify #woodsfae b5