#also - the one on the right is named Cobalt and the one on the left is named Dove :)

[neverinadream]

I P I C T U R E M Y F U T U R E W I T H Y O U

Summary: Your first trip to Jupiter has you and Christian discussing a future you could enjoy together.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes & Yes

Song Inspo: Share Your Address - Ben Platt

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, fluff, boyfriend!christian, archaeologists!reader (self indulgent because HISTORY), dom!christian, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl...), praise kink, degradation kink, public sex, boat sex (???), hair pulling, slight choking, teasing, begging, thigh riding, oral (female receiving), fingering, checking in, aftercare, talks of marriage, talks of the future, the reader comes from a big family (that's my own self indulgent right there, sorry), not proofread

Notes: so this essentially could act as like a prequel of sorts to my dad!christian piece (which can be found here). also, the smut was going to be a lot longer but unfortunately i could get it to flow right, so i ultimately gave up on adding more. feedback is always appreciated, like please it let's me know if i'm doing it right. the end is clunky, i know, you don't have to tell me. anyway, enjoy!!

With one hand left on the wheel, the other creeps around your waist, his fingers hooking around a belt loop to pull you close. A giggle pushes past your lips as you shake your head. "Two hands on the wheel, perhaps?" You suggest, feeling his hand slip inside the back pocket of your denim shorts.

He casts his eyes in your direction, the ghost of a grin printed on his lips and a playful glint in his eyes. "My hands are right where they need to be," he replies, chuckling as he catches you rolling your eyes. You mumble something under your breath about him being cheesy, but he doesn't quite catch it. He's too distracted by his wandering eyes.

"Eh, eyes front and centre, buddy," you jab your finger softly into his side, causing a low 'oof' sound to fall off his lips. He had been taking not-so-subtle glances at your chest since you had changed into the bikini. It was a new piece purposely purchased for your first time staying at his place in Jupiter, so seeing you for the first time in this new cobalt blue set was driving him crazy. He wanted his hands on every single part of you. "I don't want my first time on a boat to end with us capsizing because you've got the hormones of a teenage boy who has just discovered the ancient art of wanking," you joke, shaking your head.

"Oh, I love it when you speak dirty to me," he counters, chuckling once more as you give him a not-so-amused stare.

He sighs happily. This was all he had wanted since the start of your relationship a little over a year ago. You and him, together, in a place that made him happy. He wanted to bring you to Jupiter on his last summer break, but you were hesitant about meeting his parents and the rest of his family so early into your relationship. Amd he respected that. But now his family loved you; you were close with his sister, his brother asked more questions about what you were up to than he cared to ask about Christian, and his parents regarded you as one of the family. He almost didn't like how well you got on with his dad, mainly because he was the target of many, many jokes.

"What's today's 'Fact of the Day'?" Christian asks, pulling you even closer to his side.

"Let's see," you hum, leaning your head against him. 'Fact of the Day' was something Christian had come up with. It was a way for him to learn something new and exciting daily. "Christopher Columbus probably wasn't at fault for introducing syphilis to Europe," you tell him, peering up to see him looking a little bewildered, "you know, the guy who supposedly first discovered the Americas."

"What do you mean supposedly?" He quickly asks, frowning as he quickly glances down at you. "I thought he was the guy who discovered the New World?"

"Well, technically, it is now believed that Vikings had landed on American shores long before Columbus ever did," you explain to him, placing a chaste kiss against the side of his chest, "but back to syphilis, so shortly after 1493, when Columbus and his crew sailed back to Spain, there was an epidemic all across Europe, with many historians and archaeologists buying into the Columbian theory, that Columbus and his crew were to blame for this outbreak. And the evidence for this theory comes from the bone lesions believed to be a result of Treponemal diseases like syphilis found on the skeletons of Native Americans who had died before Columbus's arrival."

Christian tried to follow along as best as he could. He learnt quickly that you tended to get excited talking about all things historical, often speaking at a pace that was sometimes hard to keep up with. One minute you could be rambling about one topic, and whilst he was just getting to grips with that first topic, you could've already moved onto a second topic.

"But they weren't to blame?" He asks, aiding you to stay on topic.

"No," he light-heartedly chuckles as you shake your head enthusiastically, "well, not necessarily. More recent studies on skeletal remains, some that are as early as the 14th Century - so before Columbus - have similar lesions on them, which suggests that there were already strains of syphilis in Europe."

"That's it?" He asks, quickly glancing at you, "that's my 'Fact of the Day'?"

"Yep," you pop the p, "that's your 'Fact of the Day'."

He leans over to you and presses a kiss on your cheek. "You look fucking gorgeous, by the way," he whispers into your ear, slipping his hand out of your pocket to cheekily squeeze your bum. You jump a little, gasping as you do. There must have been something in the air because you had never known him to be so handsy. And you were more than well aware that you weren't far enough away for his neighbours not to see. "I always love seeing you in blue," he continues, all movements of the boat ceasing as he takes his hand off the wheel.

"Christian," you warn, checking over your shoulders, but clearly he doesn't seem to mind displaying his affection for anyone to see.

His hands rest on your bum, gripping your cheeks as he pulls you against him. His mouth has found its way onto your neck, kissing you gently and creating a line of small doses of affection from the top of your neck down to where it meets your shoulders. Pulling away, his face hovers in front of yours, his lips within touching distance of yours, just begging to be kissed. A smirk tugs on his lips when he catches you taking glances at his lips, but he leans forward, omitting the teasing for now, and kisses you.

You pull away, whimpering as he latches his lips back against your neck. He was rougher this time, nipping and sucking at your neck and soothing the sting with his tongue. "Chris, people can see us," you give him a second warning as you feel one of his hands slipping between your shorts and your bikini bottoms.

"And?" He mumbles, kissing along your shoulder.

"Christian!" You gasp, not hiding the giggle that rumbled in your throat. This wasn't like Christian at all. "What has gotten into you today?"

"You weren't complaining about it this morning-"

"And this morning, we weren't at the risk of being reported for public indecency," you interrupt him, wiggling in his grasp as you feel his fingers tugging on the string of your bikini, "or probably something worse."

He whines, scrunching his nose up as he hides his face in your shoulder. "It's this bikini, baby," he mumbles, wrapping the end of the string around his finger, "it's driving me crazy." You bite your bottom lip, suppressing another whimper as he leaves another hickey on the base of your neck. You would have a lot to do a lot of work tomorrow to hide these from his parents. "I just want to take it off," he begs, pulling away to look at you, "please, baby?"

"If you think the top looks great, wait til you see the bottoms," you tease him, wrapping your arms around him, "they're so tiny."

"C'mon," he groans, "don't tease me like that."

"Take us somewhere more private, and maybe I'll let you take a peek." You giggle as the excitement lights up his eyes. He was like a kid on Christmas morning, giddy and ready to unwrap his presents. You being his present, that is. "What are you waiting for?" You raise your eyebrow. "This boat isn't going to move itself."

His fingers played with the cobalt blue strings of your bikini bottoms, wrapping and unwrapping the ends of the bows around his fingers, as he listened to you talk about the current book you were reading. It was a piece on the most impactful archaeological discoveries to date, which he knew you would know more about than he ever would. That's what you wanted to be - an archaeologist.

When you first met Christian, you had just graduated with a degree in Archaeology and Anthropology. You were like a breath of fresh air to him in a nightclub stuffy with people who only wanted to get close to him because of his profession. He spent most of the night getting you to talk about your degree and never once did he have to talk about football. And now, over a year later, you had a Master's and would be starting an internship in October.

And Christian couldn't be more proud of you.

"Christian?" You find him staring into space as you turn to look back at him, leaving you uncertain if he was listening to you or not. "Christian?" You repeat his name, giggling as you wave your hand in front of his face. He blinks, giving you a half-smile as his eyes catch yours. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Course I am," he replies, dipping to kiss your shoulder, "you were..." He pauses, squinting his eyes and scrunching up his nose as he tried to remember what you were rambling about. "You were talking about old fruit!" He says a little too loudly, with the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Okay, I'll give you that," you giggle, twisting back to kiss him. In essence, you had been talking about old fruit. You had been talking about the discovery of the remains of fruits, nuts, and meats found in the Colosseum. To you, it was exciting; it told you about the types of snacks attendees would've eaten.

You sigh happily, feeling his chin resting on your shoulder. "You're so smart," he affectionately says, wrapping his arm tighter around you, pulling you closer to his chest. His beard tickles as he nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing over the hickies he had left earlier. "I hope our children are as smart as you," he says, but your neck muffles his words.

"Our children?" You hear him curse under his breath like he shouldn't have said that out loud for you to hear. His arm loosens and eventually releases your waist as he pulls away from you, leaning back in the chair. "Christian?" For a brief moment, you're back on your feet, turning yourself around to face him. But he isn't looking at you. He has his eyes pointed to the ground, with his hands running idly through his hair. "Christian," you hook your fingers under his chin, "what do you mean 'our children'?"

He shakes his head, his cheeks flushing red. "Just forget I said anything."

"Forget it? Baby, that's a hard thing to forget," you tell him, sitting yourself down on his lap, your legs straddling either side of his thighs. Looping your hands around his neck, you brush your thumbs soothingly against his jaw. "You think about having kids with me?" You question him, giving him a small smile as he nods. "How many?"

"Three, just like my parents," he answers almost instantaneously, "but the opposite way around: two girls and a boy." He holds onto your hips, dragging you further up his lap until the end of your knees have hit the backrest and your chest is pressed against his. "I know we've only been together for a year, but these are the things I've been thinking about," he confesses, waiting anxiously for you to say something. Anything. "When I think of the future, I can only picture a future that has you in it."

"And what would their names be?" You ask, still inquiring about the imaginative children he had come up with inside his head.

"Whatever you wanted them to be."

Your cheeks burn with cheerful warmth as you crack a bright smile. Suddenly and all at once, you had fallen in love with him like you were falling in love with him for the first time again. Your grip on the back of his neck tightens, pulling him towards you as you leant forwards to crash your lips upon his. He kisses back, letting a hand drift away from your hips and cradle your face. The love you had for him poured its way into the kiss, leaving you both feeling light-headed and needing to take deep breaths as you pull apart.

"Do you have any idea of how much I love you?" You ask, your cheeks beginning to ache from all the smiling.

"I might do," he chuckles, tracing soft circles against your cheek.

"I'm gonna need more than three kids, though," you lean back, letting your hands drift onto his shoulders and down onto his biceps. He gives you a look that says, 'oh yeah?' "Of course," you nod your head, "I'm one of seven, remember?" Of course, he remembered. He almost didn't believe you; the thought of you having four brothers to impress and two sisters to win over frightened him. But luckily, they love him. He surprisingly fitted in with your often hetic family. "I want a house full of little ones."

"You're not joking, right?" He asks, a flicker of doubt plaguing his happiness.

"You said it yourself, Christian; I can only picture a future that has you in it," you reply, kissing both of his cheeks, "it just took for you to say it for me to see the picture clearly."

He hooks his fingers under your chin, beckoning you closer, mumbling, "come here," as he leans in to kiss you. You gave into the kiss, whimpering against him as you felt his tongue gently exploring your mouth. The two of you become glued together, melting into the other's embrace and desperately clinging to the other simultaneously. But he's the first to pull away, with a chest heavy considerably to help him catch his breath.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he says breathlessly, admiring your face and body as he leans back. His arm extends to touch you, tracing his fingers gently between your breasts and down the centre of your stomach, stopping below your belly button. His touch leaves goosebumps to prickle your skin, making your eyes close as you enjoy the tingling sensation. "How did I get so lucky to find someone so beautiful on the inside and out?"

"It's that bank account of yours," you joke, winking at him, "it's just so attractive." He makes you gasp, grabbing your arse with his free hand and lightly slapping it. It was like a little warning to watch what you were saying. "Come on, you thought I was attracted to you because your eyes look like honey under the lights?" You ask, running your fingers down his chest. "Or because the sun brings out a constellation of freckles across your face? Absolutely not." You scrunch up your nose and shake your head. "Nope, that could never be it."

He chuckles, sitting up as he snakes his hand around your neck, using it to pull you closer to him. "Whatever it is," he mumbles, raking his eyes up and down your chest, "it means I get to have you." A shot of pleasure tingles down your spine as you watch him lick his lips, his eyes pulled down towards your chest once more. "All of you," he speaks in a low voice, "fuck, sweetheart, it's just begging to be taken off."

"Then what are you waiting for?" You cock your brow. "Take. It. Off."

You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne and the traces of the sunscreen you had to fight to put on him this morning as you whimpered against him. He flexes his thigh and pulls you down harder against him, rubbing your throbbing clit against it, aiding you as you roll your hips. "Fuck," you curse, hearing him hiss as you tighten your grip on his biceps, leaving crescent-shaped indents on his skin.

"No, no, sweetheart," his hand wraps around your neck, pushing you away from him, "let me see that pretty face of yours." He smirks, taking in your swollen lips, the hickies on your neck and chest, and eyes darkened by desire. Seeing you like this had his mind racing and his dick twitching. "I didn't tell you to stop, though, did I?" He raises his eyebrow, tapping your hip as an incentive to start moving again. "C'mon, ride my thigh like I know you can," he encourages, aiding you as you resume your previous movements, "keep making a pretty mess on my thigh, baby."

His hand reaches around, grabbing you by your arse, squeezing at your cheeks, and setting a pace he now demands. You whimper his name, but he can barely hear it as it spills from your lips. "Louder, baby," he chuckles, releasing his hand from your neck, "let all of Florida know." His hand drops down to your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple whilst dipping his head to pay attention to the other. "Let all of Florida know just who's making you feel this good, baby," he encourages, dragging his teeth across your nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue.

Your hand fists in his hair, tugging his curls and gasping his name as he latches his lips around your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud, grinning as you arch your back, trying to push as much of your chest as you possibly could. "Fuck, feels so good,' you whimper, grinding yourself faster against his thigh. It was there - your second orgasm. So close that you could almost touch it. "Close," you manage to tell him, pulling him off your chest and bringing him closer to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and moves against yours, ultimately giving up all control.

He nips at your bottom lip, giving it a gentle tug as he pulls away. "Not yet, baby," he denies you the chance to cum, shaking his head and smirking as you whine. Pressing his finger over your lips, he shushes you, stopping your attempt to defy him. "Stand for me," he instructs, shuffling to sit on the edge of the seat, fixing his shorts as he does so. "God, these really are fucking tiny, aren't they?" He finally removes the matching cobalt blue bikini bottoms, tugging forcefully on the strings and snatching them away from your body.

"I did say so," you mumble, lifting your left foot to rest on the edge of the seat.

"You did, didn't you?" He mumbles, hooking his arm under your thigh. You sigh, rolling your head back a bit as he kisses the inside of your thigh; his beard scratching against you feels nicer than it should. "Come here," he beckons you closer, hot breath hitting your core as he tightens his grip on the top of your thigh, pulling you into him. He hums when he finally tastes you, licking from your dripping entrance to your clit. "Beautiful," he looks up at you, groaning as you look back at him.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling on his curls and moaning as he pays close attention to your clit. He switched between licking it and sucking it, listening closely and smirking every time you'd pull on his hair or moan a bit louder for him. "Just...That...Fuck..." Your chest heaves as you struggle to speak. The words were on the tip of your tongue, ready to praise him, but you couldn't do it. He rendered you speechless.

"Got something to say, sweetheart?" He teases, replacing his tongue with his thumb, applying deeper pressure as he rubs your clit in circular motions. He kisses the top of your thigh and kisses both hips. Your hips were a particular favourite feature of his. He always wanted to be touching them. "What were you gonna say?" He asks, rubbing his fingers at your folds, letting you drip over them. "Tell me what you were gonna say," he bargains with you, teasing your entrance with the tips of his fingers, "and I'll let you cum."

"Or, stop me if you think this is too radical, you could just let me cum," you bite back, using your other hand to wipe yourself off his chin.

"I could, couldn't I?"

"Yes, you should."

He shrugs his shoulders, pushing his fingers inside you, chuckling at you shudder and gasp at the sudden intrusion. His tongue returns to your clit, working together with his fingers to play you like you were an instrument and wrangle the music out of you as he curls his fingers, brushing his fingers against the sweetest parts inside you. Gazing up, he finds you with your head hung back, your swollen lips parted to pant and moan his praises, with your eyes squeezed shut. He loved to watch you come undone. To witness your state as you teetered dangerously on the edge, ready to let go and jump.

"Let go for me," he encourages, dragging you back onto his lap, his fingers still pressed inside you. You straddled his lap, grinding your clit into the edge of his palm, and hiding your face in his neck. The coil in your stomach was unbearably tight. If it became any tighter, you were sure you would physically break. "That's it," he groans as you accidentally bite down on him, his neck muffling your moans as you finally come undone on top of him, "be a good girl and just let it all out. Soak these fingers again for me, just like you did for me earlier. Show me who I belong to." He peppers your shoulder with soft kisses, groaning louder against you as you squeeze around his fingers. "Fuck, you might just break them, baby girl; you're squeezing them so tightly."

You lazily cradle his neck, kissing over where you had bitten down, travelling up his neck until you meet his jaw. "Jesus," you giggle, feeling a wave of post-bliss giddiness wash over you. Your body tingled, and your legs were sore, but you craved more. "I want more," you mumble against him, kissing him as you turn his head to face you.

"More?" He raises his eyebrow. "Think you can take another finger?"

"I don't want more of your fingers," shaking your head, "I want you to fill me up, baby, make me feel nice and full."

"And I would love to give you what you wanted," he replies, retrieving his hand from between your legs and running it up the small of your back. You could sense there was a but coming. "But," he chuckles as he catches you rolling your eyes, "I don't have anything on me."

"What? No secret stash of condoms on here?" You tease, planting a quick kiss on the corner of his lips.

"Unfortunately not, princess," he shakes his head, hooking his fingers under your chin and drawing you closer to kiss him. It's slow and sweet, unlike the others you have been sharing. You had the time to savour it. He caresses your bottom lip as he pulls away, gazing at you with warmth in his eyes. "Do you want my shirt?"

"I want us to christen this boat, " you joke, dipping to kiss each of his shoulders, "but since you're so adamant about using protection, I'll guess I'll just have to wait until we get back to the house." You watch his expression change, his features softening as he realises the meaning behind your words. "Oh, there it is," you giggle, tapping the end of his nose, "figured it out yet?"

He clears his throat as his cheeks blush bright red. "But we've never...you know...before."

You rub your thumbs over his blushing cheeks, finding them to be so endearing. "What's the matter?" You tease him, already laughing before you can get your words. "Scared you'll be repeating your prom night all over again?" He leans his head away from you, his eyes slowly closing as he brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What did you say it felt like again?" You continue to tease him. "Thirty seconds?"

"I'm beginning to wish I had never told you that," he chuckles and groans simultaneously.

"At least you didn't send the poor girl to A&E with a condom stuck in her vagina," you confess, still feeling weak on your feet as you stand up. His eyes snap open, giving you a look that matched the rest of his confused expression. You roll your eyes as he attempts to stifle his laughter. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Mr Thirty Seconds," you give him one last jab, leaving to search for his shirt.

"And who says I haven't already done that?" He calls after you, adjusting his shorts as he stands.

"Done what?" You call back, hearing him approach from behind.

"Christen the boat?"

You managed to swallow your laughter, but a smile still twitched on the corners of your lips. "Because I know you, Christian," you tell him, pulling his shirt over your head, letting it cover most of your upper half, before spinning around to face him. It was no secret that you were his first girlfriend in a very long time. He was open about it to you - just like he was aware of your past relationships and flings. There were no skeletons in the closet or dark, nasty secrets that had to be kept hidden for the sake of the safety of the other. That just wasn't you. You were two very open books. "The only other women who have been on this boat are your mum and your sister," you deliver the punchline, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"And now you," he mumbles, circling his arms around your waist to pull you closer, "the most important woman in my life."

"I like the sound of that," you whisper, just managing to get the words out before he kisses you again. You fist your fingers into his hair, trying to stay steady on your feet as his arms squeeze around you. In that moment, you were the air he was breathing, his only source of oxygen and a chance at eternal life. It was an intensity you hadn't experienced before, but it made you aware that were his everything.

And you were.

From the first time he kissed you, he was hooked - addicted to the electrical spark he felt every single time he kissed you. He knew no one else would ever make him feel the same as you do. From that day on, he knew he would follow you to the end of the earth.

One hand drifts away from your back and traces the outline of your jaw as he pulls away to look at you. You were a vision of beauty, and it left him with a warm, fuzzy feeling like butterflies fluttering in his stomach. "Can I ask you something?" He asks, almost whisper-like. There was no better time for him to ask.

"Anything."

"Will you marry me?"

F O O T B A L L T A G L I S T

@shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @greykitkepa @thoseboysinblue @mountpulisic @dinonuggiesforliferz

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic x reader

[jellazticious]

Your characters are so shaped

Mine telling us who those main four are?

I assume this is about Light Plague so

boop!

Here's them coloured because it's been long since. Just a TLDR because I think I'm rewriting them again

Names from left to right, Mortimer Tacre/Dr Morter, Cobalt Roussel, Tastriphe/Plague Kiwi, and Tak the Oracle

Morter is one of the oldest members of the Scorchers. Now, "The Scorchers" is the unofficial name of the forced mercenaries in the bunker. The name came from the first generation Scorchers using flamethrowers. Anyway, Morter used to serve as a pure resource gatherer until he nearly dies fighting off one of the mutations and loses his head. He was revived by miracle but now he has to live with a mechanical head where whatever's left of his face and brain remains. Since he could not go to the surface because of his recovery, he then became a doctor for until he's well enough to go up again.

Cobalt is the newest addition to the team. Reason? His adoptive father, Crimson Roussel, have died with debt and one of the only ways he believes can get rid of it is to willingly be a Scorcher under 131. 131 is the name of the organization that protects the survivors of Palethos, and Palethos is the name of the bunker. Morter acts as Cobalt's mentor through this whole thing, he even was the person that manages his artificial eyes and mechanical arm prior to getting hired.

Plague Kiwi, also known by his name, Tastriphe Liet, goes along with Morter with being one of the earliest members of the Scorchers. He is the most competent fighter out there but nerfed for being a stubborn lone wolf that may or may not kill whoever he's teamed up with. Other than being a Scorcher, he is also a bounty hunter. There are other survivor societies in TLP but most of them do not get along with each other. Hunters are paid by the people inside the Tower of Corpses if they provide their targets. Targets are either criminals or people accused of being one, but frankly the people in that tower don't care, the hunters will catch them for their entertainment either way. Now that his jobs are mentioned, lemme also mention the fact he's a sentinel angel who have lost his divinity when he learns what it is to be human, to be as rightfully angry as one. His original name is just Tatriphe until he meets this orphaned little girl he took under his wing. He added her surname to his name. You can assume the worst because ofc he's going to lose this child and that moment is the point he does become human.

Tak the Oracle, I'll admit, I have NOT written them as much because originally it should be just the three but like

actually wait, I don't remember when I designed Tak- Man this bitch is a mystery even to the author 😭 ANYWAY No one in canon knows where Tak and their weird asf kid, Tikki, came from, they just showed up one day and let people be known that the parent have visions of the future. Some believe and some don't, but it is how it is with "weirdos". Somehow Tak invited themself and Tikki inside the establishment and managed to speak directly to Admiral Helicross about possible futures to look out for. The Admiral acts as if Tak has been officially added despite no one hearing news of it but no one dares question the Admiral's choices. Tak is a member of the gang, and frankly, the most useful out there. The mask is a facial prosthesis by the way, their face is severely burnt from an unknown accident. Tak is a Scorcher but unlike the other three, they are not assigned for upper division exploration as much.

#Yes Tak is getting another redesign #The Light Plague #Dr Morter #Cobalt Roussel #Plague Kiwi #Tak the Oracle #Jella Answers #I drew this

[cardierreh15]

Goddess of the Moon

A lil sumn, sumn for Kinktober. (No, I have no special list lol I’m just doing whatever tickles my brain) I hope y’all enjoy! 🧡🤎

***I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Death , Gore , Blood , Monster Fucking 😌 , Cunnilingus , Doggy Style , Size Kink (kind of? He’s pretty fucking massive) , Breeding Kink , Cursing .

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Selene/Goddess (Black!Plus Size Female)

Description: Selene goes on a trip to Minnesota with her friends when something life changing happens.

Word Count: 4.1K

One Shot

She sat in the cold interrogation room, bouncing her knee vigorously as her arms were folded across her chest. She was gently rocking back and forward, her body riddled with goosebumps as she tried to warm up. 

Her head snapped up at the door to see two gentlemen walking through. It was then when she felt a strange shift in the room. A different kind of aura. One that reminded her of the horrors of last night. 

One of the men was bald and wore glasses. A clean shaven face. He wasn’t as tall and stocky as the other. He looked regular and mundane. But he was decently handsome. 

The other stranger was tall with thick messy curls that rested atop his head. He donned a thick beard that seemed to hide the beauty of his features but also, it enhanced them too. He had broad shoulders with big and sturdy arms to match. 

‘I-I’m sorry… you said that I could leave Mr. Harper.’ 

‘I know. And I do apologize just.. hear me out alright?’

Afraid that they’d tell her that she had to stay a little while longer, she held her breath; digging her own nails into her flesh. 

‘This is Detective Marshall. He is here to hear your story.’ 

Just as she thought, she scoffed as tears brimmed her eyes in frustration. ‘I told you guys my story 3 times already! Is this what you do to people?! Continue to torture and traumatize them until there’s nothing left?!’ 

Detective Marshall glanced over at Commissioner Harper as he tried to piece and put his words together accordingly. 

‘I understand Ms. Carson. But we are all under the impression that there is a dangerous murderer around and—‘

‘Wh-Did you not listen to me?!’ Her voice began to crack, ‘There’s no murderer! Just a big…’ she waved her hands around; trying to exaggerate the size of the beast, ‘Humanoid wolf running around killing people! I know what I saw OK? I’m not crazy!’ 

Commissioner Harper let out a gentle sigh and nodded, ‘You’re right honey. You aren’t. Just let my Detective do his job ok? He is the best at what he does. He just wants to listen.’ 

Her reddish eyes stung vigorously as she looked over at Detective Marshall before he gave her a gentle nod. His bright cobalt blue eyes were somehow… familiar. 

‘Al-alright. I suppose it’s okay.’ 

Harper let out a silent breath in relief and pat his Detective on the shoulder, ‘Go easy on her.�� He mumbled before walking out of the room. 

The room was quiet for a few moments after Harper left the room. He’d placed the clipboard down on the cool metal table and sat down in his seat. 

He looked over at her, noticing little details about her that somehow made her familiar to him. The beauty mark above her full lips and another on her left cheek. Then there were her hazel eyes. Deep and dark crevices and patterns made them so unique… and again… very fucking familiar. 

He finally spoke up, blinking away ‘I know this is a rough time for you. But you have to tell me what’s going on so I can help you. What is your name?’ 

She reached over and grabbed a Kleenex tissue and blew her nose. ‘Selene Carson.’ 

‘Well, it’s nice to meet you Selene. I am dreadfully sorry that it’s under these circumstances. My name is Walter. I understand that you’re not from here, is that correct?’ 

She nodded slowly as he began to write down on the clipboard. ‘Yes.’

‘OK. What state, City are you from?’ 

‘Atlanta, Georgia.’ She mumbled as she began to chew the inside of her lip again. A thing she did when she was anxious. Her eyes fell to his hand that gripped the pen as he wrote on the paper. 

‘And why’d you come?’ 

Selene let out a gentle yet shaky sigh as she looked up at the ceiling. She was just so tired of these questions. ‘Year vacation. Every year around my birthday we go somewhere and disconnect. Try to enjoy the little things in life and Mother Nature. It was my idea. To come here.. they didn’t even wanna come here! They—‘ she whipped her tears with her thumb, ‘They wanted to go to Wyoming again. God I should’ve listened.’ 

Walter looked up at her and a great deal of grief shrouded him. It was like he was going through what she was going through. Feeling her feelings. Something he never experienced before. Not even with his ex-wife. 

‘It’s alright, Selene. We’re going to get to the bottom of this I promise.’ 

She nodded as she sobbed into her tissue. 

‘Alright. The stupid questions are over… tell me what happened.’ 

Selene swallowed her sticky spit in her mouth and sighed, ‘Well…’ 

***

The girls were sitting around the fire, snuggled up in their thick winter coats as they roasted some marshmallows. 

It was quiet for a little moment; they’d just finished a conversation about how things were when they were little girls. All the shit they use to get into and damn near give their parents heart attacks. Now they are all grown up. 

Heather was about to marry her boyfriend of 3 years. Adaline had just started her dream career of being a computer Engineer. Kelly had just got a hefty raise at her job and Selene had finally bought her dream house back home in Atlanta. 

The girls were literally living their dream lives. And they all had one another… 

But soon it’ll be taken away from them. 

‘Girls… I know we all had a busy year. And our money has been going elsewhere. But I want y’all to know that I am so grateful that we all made the time to take this trip together.’ Selene smiled softly. 

‘Of course girl! You’re our best friend!’ Said Kelly.

‘And it’s your birthday! Just because we’ve taken upon big changes in our lives doesn’t mean that we still can’t make time for one another.’ Adaline added as she reached over and gave her friend a pat on the shoulder. 

‘I know. Just —can we all promise.. that we’ll never stop doing this together? That all our traveling will be done within this group?’ 

The four girls laughed in sync before Heather put her fist out, extending her thumb and pinkie. ‘That’s a promise I can get behind!’ 

The other three girls extended their right hands and did just the same, wrapping their pinkies into the thumbs of their friends. 

After a little while longer of snacking on s’mores and singing silly childhood songs, they all agreed that it was time to hit the sack. They had plans to see the mountains tomorrow at Whale Lake. It was sure to be packed with how gorgeous the weather was going to be. 

3 hours later… 

Selene was having trouble sleeping. She didn’t know if it was because of the excitement that pumped through her like adrenaline or simply because she never came down from that sugar high. 

So she sat up in her tent, checked her phone to see that it along with her AirPods were fully charged. 

‘How about a little walk? Maybe one of the girls wants to go with me?’ She said to herself. 

Pulling her boots onto her feet, jacket over her back and gloves over her hands, she unzipped her tent and stepped outside. 

She was immediately met with the silvery brightness of the moon. ‘Luna… my you are such a beauty tonight.’ She said softly as she placed her hand over her heart. Selene could never understand why she always had this pull towards the moon or anything night related. Other than the fact that she was born at night, nothing else truly made sense.

After sharing such an intimate moment with Luna, she quietly crept over to each tent. And each one had their own snoring song. The girls were out for the count. 

‘Well, guess I’m on my own.’ She shrugged as she shoved her AirPods in her ears and ventured into the woods. 

Selene walked for what seemed to be hours. She caught pictures of nocturnal animals. Bunnies, some doe and bucks, frogs and just the aesthetic of the woods. With all of the nature walks she’s been on, this was all the basic stuff. She wanted something that would stand out to her! Something she could brag about at brunch tomorrow. 

Suddenly, she tripped and fell over a rock as she tried to adjust the brightness on her camera. 

‘Oof!’ 

Luckily, she was able to save herself without injury but not so much her camera. ‘Awwww no!’ She whimpered as she began to scramble up the broken pieces. She kissed her teeth, ‘Dammit! And there goes $3,000. Fuck.’ 

As she picked up her trash, the glistening snow caught her attention. A pair of large paw prints made a statement in the snow. 

The sheer size of it made her heart sink. She saw wolves up close in Colorado at the rehabilitation center. Their paws were owned by pups compared to this monster. 

Turning on her phone’s light to help her combat the darkness, a dozen more paw prints circled her. The image made her sick to her stomach. It was here! It was stalking her like prey. Or so she thought. 

Her heart began to race in her chest, slowly backing up as she did her best to pull herself together. ‘OK Selene. We’re just going to head back to camp. Pretend like none of this had happened.’ 

She inhaled and exhaled slowly to help calm herself down. But that’ll mean nothing pretty soon. 

Doing her best to clear her mind of the troubling thoughts that she’d seen, Selene walked back towards the camp in a hurry. Her headphones were away for the sake of her own safety. 

Suddenly, blood curdling screams echoed through the woods. 

Selene dropped the destroyed camera and dashed down the abandoned path in a hurry. 

‘HEATHER!’ She called out as she pushed and fought the twigs, and bushes that dared to stand in her way. ‘KELLY! ADALINE!’ No answer. 

No matter how fast she ran, she felt as if she wasn’t running fast enough. Because soon enough, the screaming and wailing had come to an eerie stop. 

Damn near tumbling down a steep hill, she balanced herself before she fell at the base of it. But she didn’t let that stop her. She pulled herself up and continued to run. 

‘KELLY! ADA! HEATHER!! Fuck!’ She cursed as the cool air burned at her lungs and throat. She could barely breathe but she kept fighting. 

The brightness of the coals had illuminated the area. And she saw things she never thought she’d witness. 

The tents were clawed, splattered and painted with blood and gore. 

‘Oh my god…’ she placed a hand on her stomach as her knees grew weak. Tears filled her eyes as they landed on torn pieces of body parts and insides. The cool autumn air smelled of pure iron and blood. 

It was then when her insides betrayed her and her stomach began to feel queasy. 

Squatting down, she threw up everything she ate and drank. Her palms gripped at the snow as her vile stained it. 

***

Selene bounced her knee once again as tears just fell down her face like waterfalls. She kept her eyes away from him, unable to look anyone in the eyes because she just felt so shameful. ‘I—I—…’

‘It’s alright… take your time.’ Walter reassured her. ‘Can you tell me what else happened?’ 

It was then when she looked over at him. The goosebumps had returned once again when she thought about the events that came afterwards. She then glanced down at the paper, noticing how he’d written just about everything. There was no way anyone would believe this story. Let alone the next part. So she did her best to spare the next part. 

But he persisted. 

Walter looked down at the paper and then back up at her, ‘I don’t have to write down the next part if you don’t want me to.’ 

Selene sat there silently before looking away once again. 

‘Selene… I promise you can trust me. What you say now, will stay between us.’ 

Her sad eyes glanced back over at him then, the double sided mirror before she looked at him again. ‘You swear.’ 

‘Hope to die.’ 

She swallowed her spit and sat up straight, lacing her cold hands together before resting her upper body atop the table. ‘It didn’t stop there.’ 

***

Selene slowly picked herself up off the ground, sobbing as she did her best to find her footing. But she just collapsed once again before Heather’s mangled body. ‘He—Heather?! Please!’ She called out for her friend as she gripped at her corpse. 

‘HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE! HELP ME!’ She wailed before a soul crushing, realm bending scream erupted from her body. But little did she know… it was more of a call. 

She was too busy trying to process the deaths of her beloved friends to notice the rattling of the trees and the stirring of the wind. 

When she was able to pull herself together, she pulled her phone out of her pocket to see that it was cracked. ‘Shit.’ She whimpered before tossing it to the side. She then stood up and began to rummage around in their tents to find their phones. Fortunately for her, all of the phones were in great shape… but there was no service. 

‘GOD-DAMMIT!’ She screamed as slammed all three of the working phones into the snow. Allowing her anger, sadness and blame take hold, she stomped on the electronics. Damn near turning them into confetti pieces. 

‘Oooh this is all my fault! I’m so sorry girls.’ She sobbed. ‘We weren’t even supposed to be here, this is all my fault.’ She cried and sniffed. 

After moments to allow herself to grieve, a shift of energy breezed through the air. It caused even her hairs to stand up on her skin beneath her coat. She didn’t feel safe. 

Shortly after came a low hungry growl. Then, she felt a hot breath on the back of her neck. She remained still in her spot like a statue. 

Her lips trembled as more tears filled her eyes and fell down her icy cheeks. She then closed her eyes as she prepared to meet her maker. But like a fool, she took off running and immediately regretted the idea of doing so. 

The beast howled behind her before it began to chase her down. And it didn’t take long! He swiped at her ankles which caused her to fall face front. 

Trying to scurry to her feet, the beast grabbed her ankles and yanked her back towards him. 

‘NO! NO! PLEASE! NO!’ She hollered as she tried to find anything to hold for leverage. But nothing. Just the snow and the leaves. 

When the beast quickly flipped her over, she laid there trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. But she did take in this opportunity to take in all of its details to the best of her ability. Though she couldn’t see the figure clearly, the moon graced him with a silhouette. It had jet black fur, bright blue eyes and an elongated snout. It growled down at her, revealing its large canine teeth before its frightening tongue licked at his grill.

A wolf. If she’d ever seen one. But this wasn’t an ordinary wolf.

Staring up at the creature in fear, she immediately snapped her head away as it leaned in to capture her scent. It’s wet nose tickled her cheek and ear. Then, it nestled itself in her curls. 

When the beast pulled away, it howled at the moon. Shivering, she slowly looked up at it once again. Ironic enough, the creature probably has to be the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Suddenly, something about it made her feel… safe. Like it wasn’t there to bring her harm. 

The wolf then rests its snout on her lower belly, letting out small songs of howls onto her. It caused her entire body to vibrate. And all she could do was watch until she build up the courage to speak. 

‘What— what are you doing?’ 

Then he began to let out little whimpers as if he were trying to speak. He kept doing this until something distorted rumbled in his chest. 

‘Heat. Imprint. Heeeat.’

He began to pant as he placed his paw onto her chest and pressed his weight into her. 

‘Unnff! Can’t. Breathe.’ She choked out before he removed his paw and split her coat down the middle with a single claw. 

‘Why are you doing this? Please stop this!’ 

And he clawed at her shirt, revealing her sports bra that held her perky breasts. Then, the tips of his talons grazed all the way down to the middle part of her cargo pants. 

‘Heat. Breed. Imprint. Heat.’

He croaked out once again. But, the word breed was off putting. It caused her eyes to grow before she quickly tried to roll over and crawl away. But he used his free hand to grab her wrists and pinned her down. 

‘Don’t. move.’

She nodded slowly as he easily shredded her pants to pieces. Then, he nuzzled his snout between her warm thighs. She wanted to kick away but that would just piss him off. So she just laid there, allowing him to do whatever it was that he wanted until this nightmare was all over. 

‘So. Warm.’ He growled, ‘Need. Taste.’

Selene began to squirm a little as he spread her thighs and snapped the core of her panties, exposing her delicious flower. 

The beast leaned in, huffing and sniffing as her pheromones caused his nerves to tingle. He couldn’t wait any longer. The beast finally rested it’s long tongue against her slit and licked up to her clit. It was a taste test. He wanted to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. 

She tasted better. 

Selene let out a generous moan as the creature went to work on her pussy. Curling, folding and flicking its tongue for her. ‘Ooh.’ She shuddered out. With the warmth of ecstasy and the being’s body heat, she felt nice and cozy. 

Her heart raced in her chest as her mind tried to understand what the hell was going on and why her body just gave in so easily to this being. Her body began to tense up and her toes began to curl as he flicked his massive tongue sloppily against her womanhood. 

Her eyebrows tugged into one and her eyes drifted crossed. ‘Aah! Oh my go—‘ The poor girl was so close already. It was as if he knew her body! The things that drove her wild, ‘YES!!’ She cried out, her clit throbbing at the blissful orgasm and abuse. Her small hands clawing at the air above her. 

Satisfied with her taste, the beast licked her sticky nectar off of his snout and let out another howl, this time shorter than before. It caused her to jump at the sudden call. Then, he began panting again. He was in dire need. 

He released his tight grip on her wrists. Now she was able to see him clearly. He had to be twice her size! He was burly and prodigious as if he were probably the King or a pack leader. Thick dark hair donned his shoulders, arms with a thick patch across his chest. Selene’s eyes roamed from his chest to his abdomen that resembled the torso of a human. It had trapezius and toned muscles. So defined and detailed even in the darkness of the night. Then she noticed the ripped, bloodied shorts he wore. There was no way she was looking at one of the most infamous beasts of all time. 

A Werewolf. 

He licked along her cheek before pressing his snout into her there. She couldn’t help the giggle that left her lips before she looked over at him. 

‘What is your name?’ She asked softly.

He growled before flipping her over on her stomach in a hurry before pulling her up to her knees, snatching off the remaining of the torn fabrics that she wore. ‘Ooh!’ She gasped at the sudden movement. 

Looking behind her, she watched as his heavy paws stumped around her. ‘What’s wrong?’ It was then when she noticed his big bushy tail wagging excitedly behind him. ‘How fucking cute!?’ She thought. 

He said nothing, just let out a loud huff before his wet nose pressed against the back of her thigh. Behind her, she could hear the tear of thick fabric then a warm heavy member rested on her rump. 

‘Smell. Good.’

His nose sniffed along her warm, sepia brown skin. Her scent clouded his brain like a drug. He began to whimper softly as he licked at her shoulder. 

No longer frightened to death, Selene closed her eyes as she pressed her back against him. Begging him without using her words. It was strange. She felt like she’d ingested a bunch of Tequila. It made her feel carefree and sexy. What did he do to her?

‘Selene.’

Her eyes flashed open at the sound of her name but before she could react further, he’d began to sink his thick shaft into her pussy. A sharp inhale left her lips as he stretched her to fit himself in. She began to grip the snow beneath her once more, ‘UGH!’ He was massive! 

He began to huff and growl once again until he finally nestled within the home inside of her, bottoming out completely. Her toes curled as a familiar numbness shrouded her body. Her nipples hardened, her clit erect and throbbing. 

‘Uhhh!’ She wailed as she quickly got adjusted to his enormous size. A few strokes and he was sending her to pound town! Using her body as he saw fit and she was having a damn good time. 

Selene’s face grew warm, her eyes rolling back as she took his monstrous cock. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ She mewed out as his large hands held onto her waist tightly, ramming his member into her warm abyss. 

She reached behind him, placing her small hand against his lower abdomen. He was so warm, so strong. If she were to end up like her friends after this, what a beautiful death it would be. His sharp claws gently stabbing into her smooth, brown skin. Careful enough not to puncture and rip her to pieces. 

At this point, Selene completely forgot about the fact that he actually knew her name. 

But that much didn’t matter when such a beauty of a beast was using you like a personal flesh light. 

He let out hungry grunts as drool fell from his lips upon her back. ‘Breed. Goddess. Breed. Selene.’

‘Oooh my fucking god yes! Uh huh! Fuck me!’ She begged as he began to pump his hips harder and faster. Her sweet, innocent moans were no more. Instead they were turned into filthy cursing and carnal screams as she came over and over again like a desperate little whore.

Soon enough, his whimpers and grunts became constant and his thrusts became demanding and rugged. He let out an animalistic bark before he settled his dick deep inside of her. Coating her soft, spongy cervix and walls with his cum. He howled as she began to throw her ass back against him. Milking him for every drop. 

Finally, when he pulled out his member, he collapsed into the snowy ground, exhausted. But he whispered, ‘Imprint. Breed.’

Trying to catch her own breath, she collapsed right next to him. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Partly because he was truly the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen (even though he did murder her friends…) but she couldn’t understand these codes. What was he saying to her? 

‘No name… Selene. Imprint.’ 

***

‘Look you’ve got to believe me OK? Throw me on the damn Lie Detector test! It really happened!’ 

Walter sat across the room, his eyes glazed over with shock and disbelief. He couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her. In fact, he believed her probably more than anyone else. 

‘Uhm… you said he didn’t have a name? Did he say anything else about himself?’ 

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head, ‘No. Just he kept saying “Breed. Imprint.”. I kept asking what it meant but he just couldn’t seem to put the words together?’ 

He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it really her?! His Goddess?! Was she really his soulmate, his imprintee? A lot of nights he couldn’t remember things but he remembered this one clear as day! 

Walter blinked and looked down as he could hear her moans, begging and pleading in his ears. He cleared his throat before glanced back up at her. 

‘Did he— did he say anything else?’ 

Selene looked over at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She grew defensive, ‘Why?! Ain’t like you’re gonna believe me anyway.’ She looked down into her lap, a somber look upon her gorgeous features. 

He looked back up at her and let out a gentle sigh. ‘Selene, I probably believe you more than you believe it yourself.’ 

It grew quiet for a few more moments before he spoke up again. He had to confirm it for himself. ‘What did he say?’ 

She bit into her bottom lip before she left out a huff. ‘Mine.’ 

‘Mine. My Selene.’ 

It was probably safe to say that Walter was not only spooked but grateful. It was unfortunate what happened to her friends. They were in the way. But he’d never tell her that. 

Trying to piece together the words, his heart answered before his mind could. 

‘It’s you.’ 

#henry cavill #henry cavill x black reader #walter marshall #Henry Cavill x black!female oc #Henry Cavill x black!female #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x black!oc #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #Walter Marshall x black!female #Walter Marshall x black! #Walter Marshall x black!female oc #Walter Marshall x black!oc #werewolf!walter marshall #werewolves #kinktober #werewolf #Walter Marshall!Werewolf #Werewolf!Walter #time zones #time zone #time zone problems

[agentrouka-blog]

The rulers of Tarth are called "the Evenstar" and "Evenstar" is the famous nickname of Arwen in LOTR. Does this mean that Martin is pointing out Brienne and Jaime as the Arwen and Aragorn of ASOIAF ? Since Brienne will eventually become lady of Tarth after the death of her father Selwyn. But Brienne is also a blonde warrior lady like Eowyn. Should either parallel be seen as meaningful ?

Hi there!

I am not a LOTR expert by any stretch of the imagination, so I wouldn't be able to give you a credible answer on the finer details of that nickname within those books.

(I do, however, doubt that it's meant to imply a parallel between this couple and Jaime and Brienne, mainly because they don't share literally any other parallels with these characters either jointly or separately, that I can think of. Eowyn comes closer, but that doesn't make Jaime any kind of Aragorn.)

An interesting I thing I found after a cursory search is that Arwen got this nickname in reference to the world as they knew it nearing its end. If that's true, then that's rather melancholy, but it would fit with the general theme in ASOIAF of upheaval, endings and renewal, best summed up by Leaf, one of the children of the forest:

The gods gave us long lives but not great numbers, lest we overrun the world as deer will overrun a wood where there are no wolves to hunt them. That was in the dawn of days, when our sun was rising. Now it sinks, and this is our long dwindling. The giants are almost gone as well, they who were our bane and our brothers. The great lions of the western hills have been slain, the unicorns are all but gone, the mammoths down to a few hundred. The direwolves will outlast us all, but their time will come as well. In the world that men have made, there is no room for them, or us." (ADWD, Bran III)

This imagery of the setting sun is matched by the concept of the Evenstar and both of these indicate endings.

Something often overlooked is that Cersei shares this imagery, too.

All hail his lady mother, Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent, Light of the West, and Protector of the Realm." (AGOT, Sansa V)

Also in reference to Tywin, her father:

By the time they left Maegor's Holdfast, the sky had turned a deep cobalt blue, though the stars still shone. All but one, Cersei thought. The bright star of the west has fallen, and the nights will be darker now.  (AFFC, Cersei I)

Warden of the West, in the westerlands, the Lannisters in all the glittering golden light are still associated with the finality of the sunset and evening.

The evenstar and the morning star both actually refer to the same thing, though: the planet venus, all depending on its visibility in the night sky. It was also historically referred to as "lucifer", which can be translated as "lightbringer", the name of the sword forged by Azor Ahai, which is a hugely ambivalent tale in the books and resonates with both Dany's dragons and several special swords named in the series. The powerful weapon as a mark of a hero or a knight is a central theme in the series, and GRRM is begging us to look closer at what is truly heroic and what is merely a show of power or conceit.

An interesting twist here is that Brienne's House and island of Tarth is equally ambivalent. Their arms are sun and moon both. And their seat has an interesting predecessor associated with a significant knight.

 The Sapphire Isle, as some call it, is ruled by House Tarth of Evenfall Hall—an old family of Andal descent that boasts of ties to the Durrandons, the Baratheons, and more recently to House Targaryen. Once kings in their own right, the Lords of Tarth still style themselves "the Evenstar," a title that they claim goes back unto the dawn of days. Many of the folk of Tarth, highborn and low alike, claim descent from a legendary hero, Ser Galladon of Morne, who was said to wield a sword called the Just Maid given to him by the Seven themselves. Given the role that the Just Maid plays in Ser Galladon's tale, Maester Hubert, in his Kin of the Stag, has suggested that Galladon of Morne was no rude warrior of the Age of Heroes turned into a knight by singers a thousand years later, but an actual historic figure of more recent times. Hubert also notes that Morne was a royal seat of petty kings on the eastern coast of Tarth until the Storm Kings made them submit, but that its ruins indicate that the site was made by Andals, not First Men. (The World of Ice and Fire - The Stormlands: The Men of the Stormlands)

Evenstar and Evenfall vs. the Morning. Obviously, there's a hidden history there that may be as interesting as the more recent connection of House Tarth to Duncan the Tall, another noted knight. But clearly, we are seeing a tension here between evening and morning. Brienne is the daughter of the Evenstar, but must she be an evenstar herself?

Given Brienne's connections to knighthood, to Galladon whose story she tells in AFFC, it may well be that she herself represents that renewal, a shift from evening to morning. Where the story of Duncan is one of disintegrating ideals, Brienne represents the choice to uphold them. She chooses to take up Duncan's abandoned arms, commissioning to have them painted on her shield:

It was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father's armory. She remembered how she'd run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star. (AFFC, Brienne II)

Which GRRM goes out of his way to associated with finality and endings:

She had made a better job of it than he could ever have hoped for. Even by lantern light, the sunset colors were rich and bright, the tree tall and strong and noble. The falling star was a bright slash of paint across the oaken sky. Yet now that Dunk held it in his hands, it seemed all wrong. The star was falling, what sort of sigil was that? Would he fall just as fast? And sunset heralds night. "I should have stayed with the chalice," he said miserably. "It had wings, at least, to fly away, and Ser Arlan said the cup was full of faith and fellowship and good things to drink. This shield is all painted up like death." "The elm's alive," Pate pointed out. "See how green the leaves are? Summer leaves, for certain.  (The Hedge Knight)

The falling shooting being likened to death is another interesting nod to the comet that lights the sky through much of ACOK. The one that heralded the birth of the dragons. Death.

It is the tree that represents life here. Given this context, Duncan's arms may not be her final arms.

A parallel in terms of imagery, knighthood and even history, may be House Dayne. Much like House Dayne (of Starfall) has an ancient origin and a fancy special sword named Dawn, you could argue that it has fallen from grace, the last "Sword of the Morning" (named so for the star constellation only visible before dawn) having been killed after guarding an imprisoned teenaged girl dying from childbirth. That's not knightly honor. Gerold Dayne is called "Darkstar" and describes himself as "of the night". He does not carry Dawn. Ham-fisted metaphors, no?

This is all my convoluted way of saying that no, I don't think this nickname is meant to tie Brienne and Jaime to Aragorn and Arwen, but rather part of a broader metaphor for disintegration and renewal, especially in association with knighthood, all expressed through Brienne herself.

Brienne, caught between Duncan (evening) and Galladon (morning), represents renewal, life, the way forward.

Jaime lacks this imagery entirely. He's no Aragorn. He's walking into the sunset with the Light of the West.

#brienne of tarth #star imagery #sunset imagery #metaphors #knighthood #true knights #false knights #anti braime #<- for filtering

[theblackphoenixwritings]

𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝟖 - 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕: 𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏

-𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔/𝑨𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒐 -𝑨𝑼/𝑾𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟑

The midday sun was relentless. Under his hat, Marius was suffering from that heat. The sheriff's star on his chest twinkled; it seemed not to fear that heat at all. The boy leaned against his chest, still sleeping. Marius had covered his head with a piece of cloth he had found in his saddlebag. They had stopped to rest at least two hours earlier. The boy had not said a word, for a long time, but his dark eyes had followed Marius' every movement.

From preparing a small fire, to boiling water for coffee and heating a tin of beans. Marius was the kind of sheriff who prepared himself carefully when he left his home; life as a lawman had taught him that he had to be ready and able to take care of himself, and to never take anything for granted.

Marius noticed that though he was subject to that scrutiny the boy did not move away from him, rather,attached to Marius, he remained seated with his face resting on his knees. Marius, after bringing a plate to the boy, widened his eyes, in front of him, that plate was empty in an instant. Marius gave the whole pan of beans to the boy and stood staring into the fire. It was not going to be enough for that small meal of beans to plump up that gaunt boy, who seemed to have a well-placed body for his age. The boy continued to stare the whole time he ate. A little later when the pan returned to his hands Marius noticed that there was still food, shook his head and handed it back to the boy, who tilted his head:

" Eat, it will take months of proper meals to get you well, I, on the other hand, will not starve, not in the immediate future." the cobalt blue eyes of Marius stared into the dark ones of the boy, who uncertainly smiled at him. He's a fighter if after all he's been through he remembers how to smile pertly Marius, handing the boy the canteen of water. After drinking the boy passed the canteen back to Marius, who passed a little water on a cloth and slowly began to wipe the boy's face. To his surprise the boy not only did not move but closed his eyes, letting Marius clean him.

"I don't have any clothes to give you, but I can buy you some from the tribe of Teskhamen. You'll have to be patient; we'll get there toward evening, I hope." The boy stared at the clear, vast horizon and nodded.

" Come on let's get on the road, I don't want to be on the road while it's dark," and Marius shivered as he thought back to the creatures he encountered in the canyon. The boy clutched Marius' duster to himself and stood up ready to resume the journey.

"Look, I understand that you don't want to talk about it and also that a lot of what you saw and was done to you, I can't even imagine. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. Although you seem to know those creatures and I could use to know more. But for now I'm content if you at least tell me your name." Marius tried to speak softly, sounding out his words well, not wanting to disrespect the intelligence of the boy, who seemed more than simply astute, but he did not know if he knew his language or understood it. In fact, only gestures and glances had been exchanged, and the boy had not spoken except for those words he had whispered as he fell asleep in Marius' arms.

The boy stared at him in amazement, and Marius felt like an idiot.

"I don't know if you speak my language."

"Of course I speak it," was the boy's lashing reply.

Marius brought his hands to his hips, and glanced at the boy, who closed his mouth in a thin line.

"Good. At least we've cleared that up, I'm Sheriff Marius and you are?"

The boy stared at him and his eyes became sad and shiny, Marius immediately regretted the tone of his voice.

" I don't remember my real name and I don't like the name they gave me."

Marius sighed, well it was more than understandable, but he could not call the boy, boy right ?

" Okay, tell me something you like and let's see if we can find you a name that makes you happy."

At that moment a CRAA made itself heard, both turned toward the noise. At the top of a risen sapling a raven was watching them, its feathers shiny and black, its eyes intelligent and alert. Marius stared at the beautiful animal, which bent its head forward toward him.

"Crows are messengers from the spirit world, for the Indians, they believe they are the holders of universal wisdom, those who protect us from the forces of evil," Marius murmured, remembering Daniel's lesson and how beautiful and full of life his purple eyes were. A pang in his heart darkened his thoughts for a moment.

"What did you say?" asked Marius of the boy, he had vaguely sensed his voice but not what he had said.

"I said it look a little like God," said the boy.

"You're not some kind of fanatic are you? Because I already have one in my town, and the bastard leads the town church, raises people against the natives, is a goddamn racist, and a sower of discord. Not to mention that he preaches poverty and mercy when he lives in luxury and in the employ of the biggest landowner in this area. And all this is good and holy in the eyes of his God." Oh that was more than a thorn in Marius' side was a whole bramble.

"Then his God is not my God. I have been afraid of God for so long, I was taught to fear Him and to be contrite and to bow my knees and my heart before Him. I always followed what they taught me, but God never answered me. But when I raised my head to seek Him in the sky, among the stars and prayed to Him like this, He sent me you, and salvation."

The raven cawed again, as if approving those words. Marius stared at him indecisively about what to do.

"Well there was a guy, in Cripple Creek, he was a good man, a worker, died in peace God rest his soul. He used to say his name meant, He Who Loves God."

The boy's eyes sparkled, the crow cawed again. Marius had learned not to believe in coincidences.

"Amadeo." and the silence that followed those words seemed like that of someone who has waited his whole life for something.

"Amadeo," the boy said confidently, then walked briskly toward Marius's horse, Wise, which was waiting serenely not far from there. Marius put out the fire and looked again toward the raven. The elegant animal glided close to a boulder beside Marius, its black eyes the mirror of infinite knowledge. They stayed like that for a little while, then the raven flew away. Marius finished tidying up the supplies. He gathered up the bias, and started toward his horse. The boy stood still beside Wise and scanned the horizon. Marius approached Wise and settled the last few things, before checking the saddle and reins. The winchester was in place, and on the opposite side in a similar case was kept the bolt-action. Great rifle-accurate, and reliable.

"You'll need a machete," said the boy as he continued to stare at the horizon. Marius remained interdicted.

"A machete?" God damn it. The boy turned to stare at him with his dark eyes.

" Fire, silver, and cutting off the head, nothing else kills them, but the sun, and what's left, their ashes must be scattered or they reborn." Marius blinked in disbelief, had he understood correctly?

" Damn hell," were his words as he shook his head and mounted Wise, then pulled the boy up as well, Amadeo,settling his head back on Marius' chest.

Marius gently spurred Wise, who immediately obeyed the command and started down the road to their destination.

#marius/armand #marius de romanus #armand #AU #Western AU #Wester AU PART 3 #my writing #VC

[yanphobia]

Cleithrophobia - Chapter 7

Cleithrophobia: The fear of being trapped.

Pairing: Yandere Male Drider OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, Spiders, NonCon Touching, Possible NonCon (depending on reader’s interpretation), Implied Female Reader (although it doesn’t really factor too heavily into the plot), Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 6  Index Chapter 8

Author’s Note: Aaand it's the beginning of the end! Thank you so much for your support! (p.s. this is for your viewing pleasure)

This story was inspired by cobalt-sphinx's Drider x Reader from Quotev.

The door slammed shut behind you as you entered your cabin. You took off your gloves with a bit of difficulty because of how hard your hands were shaking. Deep breaths, you reminded yourself, in, one, two... One would think that, after having so many throughout the years, panic attacks would get easier to deal with.  

They were becoming more frequent, too. After you ended your friendship with Mars, your life became much more simple. Wake up, complete your chores for the day, rush to drop Mars’ dinner off at your spot and go to Laura and Stan’s house for dinner. You refused to have anything else to do with him, but you did keep up your end of the deal out of fear of his violent threats. The night after your argument, you heard him approaching as you were quickly leaving down the path, and you kept walking as he called your name. That was two months ago and you haven’t seen him since. Good. 

So you kept your routine, every day the same, and you began to feel stifled. There weren’t much in the way of friends in this area, and you were too tired after working all day to really make the trek into town anyway. Any hobbies you tried to take up couldn’t keep your focus. The familiar feelings of being smothered that you had felt before you came here were slowly returning. You didn’t want to live like this, but you also couldn’t leave because of your deal with Mars. 

This situation is the cause behind the panic attacks. You felt so trapped, so helpless, and the impending breakdown was getting closer. Right now, you just had to talk yourself through it, and try to relax. Shadow had become a nightly visitor to your cabin who also helped you through your attacks. You held him close and focused on your breathing until your heartbeat began to calm down. Eventually, you were able to. You grabbed Mars’ meal for the night and quickly headed out to leave it out for him. 

You kept your thoughts light as usual but were shaken from them when you felt something soft and wet under your foot. Looking down, you saw a rotting slab of beef. The colors had changed from red and white to black and yellow. You retched as you wiped your boot on the damp grass. This was when you noticed the smell, but the strange thing was that it was much stronger than it should’ve been from one steak. You investigated the spot where you had always left his food and were shocked to find many steaks in various stages of decomposition. You hadn’t noticed that they were here before. The snow was in its final stages of melting, with only a few small patches scattered around. Maybe they were hidden underneath it? But in all honesty... you hadn’t been paying attention, either. You would usually stand on the outskirts of the clearing and chuck the steak into it, not really bothering to see where it landed. A bit petty, perhaps, but well deserved. 

But looking at all of this meat, you had to wonder... was Mars even still here? He did mention moving around to different spots, once. Or maybe he died? Spiders didn’t typically live through the winter. You weren’t sure if that were the case for his species but looking around you could see that the webs he’d placed there were extremely old and practically dissolved to nothingness. It was obvious – he hadn’t been there in ages. 

You laughed. You laughed so hard that tears came out of your eyes. And you laughed as you leisurely strolled all the way back to your cabin. All this stress you had been under, all for nothing! It had felt like you had been wearing invisible shackles, weighing you down so for long, and they’ve had been suddenly removed. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this light and free!

That night, humming to yourself as you chopped up what would’ve been Mars’ steak in your kitchen, you turned to Shadow and held up the pan-seared meat. 

“Are you hungry?” 

--- 

“[Y/N]?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Is everything alright?” Laura asked as the two of you feed the chickens. 

“Uh, yes... I’m fine, thank you for asking.” 

“Are you sure? You seem very... distant, lately.” 

The recent events had caused you to think about the state of your mind. The panic caused by the thought of being trapped in a routine that you hated... it wasn’t normal. You had wanted to believe that you had just needed a change of scenery, but you were only now admitting the truth to yourself. It was pure self-sabotage. You had already identified it to be a fear of commitment, and that was the first step. But constantly running away was not an acceptable way to live your life. You needed to find a way to cope with your fears. The right thing to do now, you imagined, was to make peace. 

“Uh... Laura? Can I talk to you about something?” 

She stood from her hunched position, dropping the feed back into the feed bag, and wiped her hands off on her thighs. She motioned you over to the porch. 

“Let’s sit somewhere comfortable.” 

The two of you sat while you explained your situation to her. You knew in your heart that you needed to return home, to apologize to everyone that you’d hurt. Whether or not they accepted it was entirely their choice, and you had no right to demand that they forgive you, but you needed to at least make your regret known. You needed to see someone who could help you look inside of yourself and examine why you feel and act the way that you do. You needed to make a change. 

“I love you both so much, and I hate the thought of never seeing you again, but-” 

“-But you need to do what’s right for you.” Stan had finished. At one point, he found the two of you on the porch, and you briefly recounted the conversation to him. 

“Exactly.” 

“Child,” Laura began. “We’ve known from the very beginning that this would happen. We understood that, but we’ve been waiting for you to understand it.” She moved to hug you. “You’ll always have a place here, but right now your home needs you!” 

The two of you squeezed each other close for a bit as you blinked back your tears. When you pulled back you saw that her eyes were wet, too. 

“Now,” she began, “let’s make these last few nights here be good ones! What do you want for-” 

The three of you jumped as you heard a deafening crash. The sounds of glass breaking and metal crunching reverberated throughout the farm and caused many of the animals to start making distressed noises. You all stared at each other in shock before rushing to the source of the sound. Stan cursed and Laura cried out when they saw what lay before them. 

Your car and Stan’s truck had been parked side by side. But now, laying perpendicular across them both, was the massive tree that you two had always parked under. The roofs were caved in and the hoods had crumbled under the weight of the trunk. They were utterly destroyed.  

“No,” cried Laura as her tears began to fall, “No! Stan, what is this? We can’t afford to fix this!” 

Stan stared in disbelief at the scene before him. “That tree is... old. It’s been there since I were a boy. The winter weather... that rotted it. All it needed was a little bit of wind- just a bit- to knock it over. We should’ve... we should’ve had it cut down years ago. God dammit! Why didn’t we do that?!” 

He rambled on as he tried to justify it to himself. Dread spread throughout your body like a disease and settled in the pit of your stomach. You stared down at the gravel beneath you. You didn't want to look around and notice that there was no wind today. You didn’t want to look at the tree. You didn’t want to see that it had been uprooted and not tipped over. And more than anything else, you did not want to look at the entrance of the woods. 

#yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere stories #yandere male #yandere #yandere fiction #drider oc x reader #yandere drider #drider x reader #drider #terato x reader #terato #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #cleithrophobia

[storm-breaker7]

I would absolutely kill for a Chuck Hansen x reader fic, literally anything comfort if you could

Hhshhdwmejejb

Yes ma'am I would to. Right away. *Salutes* (trauma and comfort- but what's the difference?)

A/n: So first rq! So excited! 🐢😀 I hope you like it ma fren, I will slave away until this is done. Also BC you didn't specify I will be doing a gn reader just so everyone is included! ❤️ And the dog is named chip in honour of my passed dog.. he's been gone for awhile but I feel this is the best way to remember him, just giving him small cameos for my fics.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff, Aussie slang (oh no), a creepy snake kaiju (idek please tell me if you find anything! Please!)

'That Dream Again'

---

I woke up at the blaring of an alarm, 'all yeager pilots report to the main hangar' the loud and annoying monotone voice repeated. Sighing I rolled out of bed and patted my small lab pup I named Chip.

He barked happily and I smiled at the tiny scruff. I walked to the mirror in my room and grabbed my jacket. "Alright get up you old hag" I joked smacking my older brother's leg, further more annoying him on this pleasant morning (I noted without a bit of sarcasm). He groaned and jumped off his top bunk and stretched.

"I'll see ya over there, your taking forever" I mumbled, grabbing Chips lead and taking him out of our shared room. I ran with the energetic pup all the way to the main hangar and puffed out a breath, watching Chip pant happily.

"What's the big fuss?" I questioned as a few more pairs gathered around. Looking around for confirmation, most shrugged and shook their heads. So no-one knew why we were here. Fun.

Soon enough my brother jogged in and then someone started talking. "Now, everyone, we have two kaiju scattering, it's early but we need at least 2 yeagers. Any volunteers?"

"This should be easy" My brother shrugged and put his hand up,

"Thank you, get in your yeager and get preped you two, we need you out asap."

"I'll take Chip back, meet me at Cobalt" I waved him away and took Chip on yet another run. When I reached the door I opened it and pushed him in, "Be good. Got it" I pointed my finger at him then shut the door. Running through endless halls to get to where I got suited up was not fun, by the way.

I heaved out breaths as I entered Cobalt, my brother chuckling and punching my arm, "Ready for me to look in that head of yours"

"Only if your ready for me to look in your dirty thoughts" I grinned, listening to the dude we dibed the annoying radio guy.

-Time skipith-

We scanned the water carefully as we continued to wade our way though. I felt something slithering around our legs and glanced at my brother,

"Why don't we go snake huntin'" I joked before activating the knife on my arm, stabbing the snake like kaiju, and an ear piercing scream rang out before the kaiju grabbed onto Cobalts' left ankle, on my brother's side.

The snake let go then quickly slithered up our legs and around us, squishing Cobalt as it continued up. I let out a breath as is wrapped around us, coming up on the left side of Cobalts' head.

I went to stab the kaiju but It squished more and then bit into the left side of Cobalts' head, ripping it open. My brother let out a yell of agony as we were ripped from our drift and I screamed painfully, the literal shock of everything on my left side sizzle like I was cooking.

I activated the pulse cannon, barely hearing myself say it over the loud ringing in my ears, and held it somewhat is the kaijus' direction before I fired... Multiple times.

I shot up out of my dream in a cold sweat, my eyes glossed over and Chip whining next to me. It was a few years back and now I was in Hong Kong with the last few Yeagers left. I haven't found a match ever since and Cobalt sits there to collect dust.

A knock at the door snaps me back to the real world. I get up and walk over, with Chip trailing close behind. As soon as I open the door max bursts into and him and Chip are already playing.

I smiled and opened the door fully, "Hi chuck"

"G'mornin', you look like shit." He smiled and greeted me before he noticed how tightly I was holding my brother's dog tags, "That dream again?" I nodded slowly closing the door behind him, smiling sadly. "Come 'ere" He mumbled opening his arms.

I shuffled over and hugged him, burring my face in his chest, trying not to cry on him. "'m sorry you have to deal with me" I mumbled into his shirt,

He started to rock me back and forth then slowly sat down on my bed, "Hey, don't worry. I've got ya"

"Thanks chuck" I smiled and squeezed my eyes closed, slowly letting myself calm down from the recurring dream I had.

"Don't worry, mate. I gotcha.. I gotcha" He mumbled still rocking us back and forth, rubbing my back slowly.

#storm7breaker posts #x reader #fanfic #Chuck hasen #pacific rim x reader #pacific rim #chuck hansen x reader #gn reader

[thelaundrybitch]

Jehannet Lore

Alright, Turtle Doves...

Here he is. In all his glory.

-> A big thanks to @post-apocalyptic-daydream for letting me use her Character Lore Template 🙌🏽🥰

💛An even bigger thanks to @leosgirl82 for all her help creating J💛

Reblogs only, please!

Artwork by @tmnt-tychou

Name: Jehannet

Born: May 22, 1986 (37 yrs old)

Place of Birth: Upstate NY in a private animal genetics laboratory

Gender: Male

Siblings: Basilio, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo 

Mate: Contessa, then Buttercup

Species: Mutant Turtle

Signature Color: Yellow, light yellowish-cream

Skin & Shell: Dark Olive Green, Brown

Scars: He has a huge scar on the left side of his neck where his carotid artery and jugular vein were gouged open by one of the warehouse wolves when he was 17.

Tattoos: Like all of his brothers, he has 6 miniature turtles tatted in a line from his wrist toward the crease of his elbow on his right arm. Each of the brothers drew a turtle to represent themselves before Don tattooed everyone’s arms. The newest tattoo he has is a tiny Buttercup next to his own turtle.

And, of course, he has the Jobiathan invisible tattoo on the back of his neck that signifies he is a Jobiathan Guardian.

Eye Color: Chocolate Brown

Height: 7’4”

Weight: 435 lbs (Including shell weight)

Star Sign: Taurus-Gemini cusp

Clothing: His signature piece is his yellow mask. He has a bracelet on his right wrist that looks something akin to a friendship bracelet—the colors are yellow, gold, midnight blue, cobalt blue, and purple. Hanging from the bracelet by a single golden thread is a small charm of a buttercup. He also wears a thin golden chain around his neck. Comfort is key for J, and he can usually be found wearing fitted joggers, loose-fitting V-neck tee-shirts, and a pair of sneakers. 

Weapon of Choice: Duel broadswords

Nicknames: J, The Perfect Specimen

Tactical Stats

Gear: J is the only one who doesn’t wear neoprene. They lost him once, and Don has made sure it won’t ever happen again with the Living Armor he created specifically for the youngest turtle. J wears gear that looks something like a knight would wear. The body and arms of it look almost like dragon scales, with huge plates on his shoulders and down the back of his shell. Thanks to Don’s smart tech, the armor will rise away from J’s body when it detects an incoming blow, to help absorb and deflect any damage. His pants are made from breathable hyflex kevlar and proteus fabrics. He also dons lightweight shin guards and knee pads. His feet are covered with a specialized waterproof, indestructible boot that laces up the front, hidden by the shin guards. The grip on the bottoms of his boots are Don’s specialty SmartGrips - a bio-cellular material that adapts to the surfaces of any terrain J may encounter on missions. 

Weapons: Bladed boomerangs. With these come a set of gloves made from the same hyflex kevlar and proteus fabrics used to make his pants. He also carries his broad swords with him for a while before he gets the hang of his new weapons. He lovingly refers to them as his “Bucks” because they give people a run for their money.

Position: J is Mike’s second in command. If something happens or there happen to be two missions running simultaneously, J takes on the leadership role. He is required to be a master in every weapon they have at their disposal. He’s also Don’s tech partner. With J having a brain as big as the genius himself, he can easily switch gears and take over if Don is hurt, or needed elsewhere.

Specialty: “The JAB,” as Mike refers to it. It’s J’s Alpha Beast. Something happened to Buttercup at one point, while J was present, and his alpha stepped forward to Take. Care. Of business. Nobody dared piss J off after that (except for Mike because Mike wanted to hone that beautiful hulking beast), or threaten his Buttercup. It’s an instant death sentence.

J is also an energy worker. He can manipulate a person’s energetic system - he tells those who question his abilities, and the realness of what he does, that he applies quantum physics to the living body, assisting in healing and aligning people to their highest potential. 

Hobbies/Likes: J is a writer. He’s been writing since his teen years and loves to dip into random fandoms, do a ton of research on said fandom, then write the most incredible fanfics that fandom has ever witnessed. He also enjoys art. A lot of times while he’s writing, he will stop and draw the scene, then continue on. He also likes to put little doodles along the edges of the pages when his brain is running a scenario to work out the details. J and Mike are absolutely double trouble when they are at home. Dancing like idiots around the lair together, wreaking havoc on their unsuspecting brothers, and teasing the absolute hell out of the all-too-serious Leonardo. J’s lot in life is to make people smile and laugh, and being able to get Leo and Raph to belly laugh has not only become his favorite activity, but also a constant mission. 

He is also currently learning to play the guitar, courtesy of Don. 

Background/ Additional Info:

Jehannet is named after a Renaissance artist, more commonly known as Jean Clouet. He was a miniaturist. He was named after Clouet because he is a carbon copy of Don - and originally, he was referred to as Little Dee.

Having been purposely created in a lab to be weapons, not all the turtle brothers are related. Basilio, Leonardo, and Michelangelo are full-blooded brothers. As are Raphael and Donatello.

They bred Raph and Don's father with Basilio, Leo, and Mike's Mother to create Jehannet, successfully creating “The Perfect Specimen.”

The project didn’t go as planned, however. This was because the human DNA used during the mutation process caused the turtles to have morals and a good conscience, rendering them useless to the benefactor. The scientists were told to “dispose of” the project - save one turtle. J didn’t make the cut and was dumped with four of his brothers, along with Splinter and a few other species, into some gaming woods in upstate New York to be used as target practice. Splinter, already a full-grown adult, collected the five little boys and helped them stay safe, eventually making their way to the city and into the sewers where they could grow up in a safer environment. 

J died when he was 17 during a training exercise with the Tactical team. Almost 20 years had gone by after his passing when Don was able to locate J on another plane of existence. With the help of a few of his big-brained friends, Don was able to build a portal to get J home again. 

Thanks to said attack, J’s vocal cords were damaged. But that’s ok, because it gives a sexy, husky quality to his voice. This giant turtle-man has a scratchy, more tenor-sounding set of vocals, giving him an adorable singing voice. He sounds like a good mix of Don and Mike.

This man is as fun and funny as Mike. He has as much passion and creativity as Raph. A brain that can overthrow Don in his own laboratory. And is as much of a lethal weapon as Basilio. J has more charm than Leonardo - Prince Charming himself - and his flirt game is strong. But he has eyes for his Buttercup only. 💛🌻 

Enjoying my work? Looking for more about J? Find my Master list HERE

~tags~

@leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83 @sharpwindow @drowninghell @mysticboombox @raphsweapondealer @post-apocalyptic-daydream @raphslovemuffin80 @chicchanmooshy @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @tmnt-tychou @fluffytriceratops @jurikyu-blog @xanadu-702 @pheradream15 @zombiesnips-blog @meowph-132 @lec743 @writinandcrying @sketch-and-write-lover @fyreball66 @turtlesmakemehappy @scholastic-dragon @knightish-knight @zprites @morning-sun-brah @dilucsflame33 @happymoonangel @hotredphoenix @8pmblackcoffee @androidships007 @truffle-draws-turtles

If you aren’t on this list, please let me know if you want me to tag you in my other work or if you prefer me to not tag you 😘

#thelaundrybitch #Jehannet #tmnt OC J #tmnt OC Jehannet #tactical J #tactical Jehannet #tmnt au #tmnt aged up

[niigata-division]

“Valor is stability, not of legs and arms, but of courage and the soul.”

Introduction

Seiji Tsukimoto, also known as Avenger in rap battles, is the chief of police for the Niigata Police Department and is well known for having no fear even in the face of adversity. While only seemingly joining the DRB to help his old friend Wataru Sasaki with his current case. Seiji appears to have his own reason for entering the Division Rap Battles. One that perhaps hits a little too close to home for him.

Seiji is a tall man in his late 30s with a well-built muscular figure. He has neck-length cobalt blue hair that is brushed back with his bangs parted on the left side of his face. He has toxic green eyes that have a stern look to them and a beauty mark under his right eye.

He wears a black suit with a white button-up shirt and a dark green tie. He also wears black dress shoes. For accessories, he wears a pair of silver studs and a set of gold lion cufflinks on his dress shirt. 

Outside of work, Seiji wears a black motorcycle jacket, a dark green t-shirt tucked into navy blue jeans that are secured with a black leather belt, and a pair of black work boots.

Name Meanings

Tsukimoto (月元) - Moon Origin 

Seiji (誠司) -  Truthful Govern 

Aliases

“The Lionheart”

Sir, Boss, Chief, etc.

Sei - Ayumu 

Papa - Yaeka 

Uncle - Sara 

Biographical Info

Gender - Male

Age - 39

Birthday - November 28th

Ethnicity - Japanese

Hair Color -  Cobalt Blue

Eye Color - Toxic Green 

Height -  199 cm / 6’6 

Weight -  260Ibs / 118kg

Star Sign - Sagittarius

Piercings -  Lobes

Markings - Scars on his left shoulder and right chest, Bullet wounds on his right torso, Tattoo of irises and lilies on his ribcage 

Family 

Father (Deceased) 

Mother (Deceased) 

Younger Sister (???) 

Wife (Deceased) 

Son (Deceased) 

Daughter 

Voiced By - K Dub Shine (Rapping)

Fun Facts

MC Name - Avenger

Occupation - Chief of Police 

Division - Niigata

Team - Valor Guard

Position - Leader

Favorite Food - Kitsune Udon

Least Favorite Food - Pickled Daikon

Likes - His Daughter, Drinking Tea, Working out

Dislikes - Reminders of his lost loved ones, His daughter hurt or in danger, People not following his orders

Hypnosis Microphone

Seiji’s Microphone takes the form of a black and dark green bluetooth earpiece mic that settles in his right ear.

His Speaker takes the shape of a giant silver statue of knight’s armor with dark green plumage sprouting from the helmet that when opened reveals a speaker. In its left hand is a sword ready to swing down while in its right hand is a shield with a speaker embedded in the middle of it positioned as if prepared to block an attack.

His rap ability, Shield, allows him to protect himself and his team from all attacks. However, the longer it's in use the higher the chance it fails.

Seiji’s rap centers on how chaotic the world has become and how he will without fear face the anarchy to protect innocent lives. He raps about how despite how many people he’s lost over the years he will always stand tall. He also raps about the love he has for his family and friends swearing to protect them until his final breath.

Personality

Seiji is usually seen as extremely serious, determined, and focused on leading the Niigata Police Department. He is capable of maintaining his calm expression at every time, even in front of an adversary. However, some consider his reserved personality a sign of coldness and disdain. He even has a reputation for having cold, judgmental eyes. Seiji never seems to waver or lose sight of the task ahead, barely allowing his dry wit and humor to appear. However, Seiji knows the world isn't as black and white as some people make it seem. His struggles during his childhood and time in the force have made him adopt a gray view of crime. 

Outside of work, especially while interacting with his daughter, Seiji’s seriousness abates and the more carefree, good-natured, and good-humored side of his personality shows up, giving many who only know him from work a surprise. He is fiercely protective of his daughter, whom he loves deeply. Seiji tries his best to be there for his daughter, especially as he's the only family she has left. 

What most people don’t know is how mentally scarred Seiji is. That he bottles all the pain and grief of losing so many loved ones along with the stress of running the Niigata Police Department and being a single father. Seiji is well aware of the fact that he can not take another loss and keeps almost everyone at arm's length. However, Seiji still holds on to a small piece of hope that one day the world will be kind to him just once.

Background

In a separate post coming soon. 

Trivia

Though he has entered the DRB to support his old friend, Wataru Sasaki, Seiji has his agenda for joining. After seeing a photo of [RETRACTED], he seeks to discover if they are who he thinks they are.

Seiji was once considered the worst delinquent in Niigata when he was a teen. Some of the crimes he committed back then were resisting arrest and assault.  

Seiji due to his lifelong friendship with Ayumu can speak fluent English and German along with his native Japanese. 

Seiji has been kicked out of multiple bars before not because of anything he did but because his wife constantly started fights with anyone who tried her. 

Seiji is skilled in Brazillian Jiu-Jitsu and Muay Thai even training the new cadets in the styles. 

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #niigata division #valor guard #seiji tsukimoto #character bio

[fenicenera83]

Day 3

Blue eyes

Armand knew more than well the blue of those eyes. They had haunted him for centuries, the memory of the deep blue when they were worried, or how they became richer and clearer when they were blessed with a smile, or when they looked like an ocean, that deep cobalt blue of passion, where he could drown in the sweetest of ways. He knew all their nuances, knew all the shades of the soul to which they belonged. In his darkest moments they had been the memory that had kept him alive; in his best moments they had been the cause of his joy. Then Armand had no longer been able to say or interpret those blue eyes with certainty. Perhaps, almost certainly, it had been his fear, resentment, or indecision that had convinced him of this. So much time had passed, between them and about them, all the time Armand had spent fearing love, all the time he had spent locked in the certainty that he would meet with rejection, that he could no longer call himself Marius's love, Amadeo, that name that had vanished, as if it had never been his own. Yet that name was the only one to which his soul truly responded. And every time Marius' blue eyes rested on him, the young man inside Armand to whom that name belonged stretched out his arms, desperate to reach again for that ocean that had been his salvation.And Armand had to chain him up, pride and fear and resentment were what resonated inside him at the sound of those chains. " Amadeo, Amadeo…" Armand closed his eyes, darkness was the only right thing for him and what he had become. Marius' radiant light was like looking from hell into heaven. And how strange it was to make such comparisons, and yet how true it was in his eyes, how simple and beautiful it was to linger in the past and in memories. There Marius was his, and there was nothing to separate them. And that cobalt blue, it enveloped him, made him safe, strong and beautiful, full of life and hope for the future. Everything had slipped away like sand in his hands, and he was left alone. In his torment it had been easy, giving in, in his succumbing, easy to believe that he deserved everything. When Marius had been snatched away from him, the beauty of the world had also disappeared with him, and it had been easy, oh so easy, to believe the darkness again.All the love, devotion, sweetness and passion locked inside him, in the ashes of the auburn-haired boy running happily in a golden palace. And those blue eyes, following him with love and adoration, happy that he was so strong, so determined and intelligent. Those blue eyes were proud and proud, that Armand was not only handsome, but that his soul was healing, that he was blossoming into the person he really was. Then for a long, endless time, there had only been that damn politeness between them, Armand was stuck, couldn't find the courage to ask and couldn't find the strength not to desire. Too much inside him was screaming and Armand was unable to give those screams any thought. There was no peace in him, how to give voice to that request? How to find his way home again? How to return to the one who was everything to Armand? And more time had passed. And those blue eyes continued to haunt him. Again and again.

And Armand was trying desperately, if only with small gestures, to figure out if indeed that cobalt blue ocean, was denied to him forever. And more time had passed. And everything had collapsed, and Armand had wished for death, until that moment he could always say, tomorrow, and live in memories, at that moment, there was no tomorrow, only memories. And memories were not like reflecting in Marius' blue eyes, it was not like seeing their color change, with the motions of Marius' soul, it was not like seeing their light, even if forced to look at it from afar. Armand had cried. Armand had drawn a thousand black and white sheets on a sketchbook he did not remember having. Each face of Marius in black and white, each time only the blue eyes, were painted with colored pencils. Blue on blue on blue. Stained with the red of his tears. Red and blue... Now clasped in strong, loving arms, gently resting on Marius's chest, between red and gold blankets and the blue shirt he wore, Armand had left behind him all the rest. No more chains, no more darkness, no more denial and resentment. Only love, everything he had never let go of and that was Marius'. Only his, as always.

#Marius/Armand appreciation week #Marius/Armand appreciation week DAY 3 Blue Eyes

[unprocione]

LEON SCOTT KENNEDY — CHARACTER STATS.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟷 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

NAME  :    leon scott kennedy. EYE COLOUR  :    a vivid shade of blue. HAIR STYLE  /  COLOUR  :    naturally an auburn brown, but often dyed a champagne blond. coarse texture, cut short with a curtain bang, precariously styled with exteme-hold hairspray. * HEIGHT  :    5′11”.  * CLOTHING STYLE  :    ranging between a leather-grunge wardrobe and business-casual. favors all shades of blue, grey & off-white, creme beige & caramel tan. favors midnight black leather or saddle brown leather. fond of leather jackets, some with woolen trim. wears sock-garters. traditional ties instead of bowties. pinstripe patterns or plain cloth instead of alternative or gaudy patterns. shoulder-holster harnesses. compression shirts. mock turtlenecks, long-sleeved or sleeveless. leather wristwatch instead of metallic, no pocketwatches. simple metal jewelry, silver, never gold. leather caps or baseball caps. fingerless gloves. no heavy makeup - minimal concealer & black eyeliner on occasion. nails blunt & clean or chipped black paint. italian suit styling, single-breasted two-button suit jackets with notch-lapels, often in cobalt or charcoal, creme or off-white interior lining, tapered trousers, undershirts range through off-white, pigeon-grey or cobalt. oxford shoes (no brogue) for suits, usually in midnight black, sable brown, or ombre leather for special occasions. most boots are fitted tight to calves, midnight black or sable brown with pointed toe and slight heel, also favours moto zipper boots. occasionally wears steel toe. lapel pins for formal events are usually a simple silver sword or the dso emblem, occasionally a silver american flag. unlikely to wear green, red, orange, or yellow. ears are both pierced. often either clean-shaven or with five-o-clock shadow.   * BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE  :    his moles. one above his lip to the left side of his cupid's bow, one below the left corner of his mouth below his chin and lips, one on his right cheekbone, one on the right side of his jaw.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟸 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

FEARS  :    abandonment; of being without support and guidance, loss of solid ground. leon is terrified of losing control of himself, of his body and his mind, not only after his experience with las plagas, but certainly exacerbated afterwards. leon is also a habitual 'clean freak' after multiple experiences of being in filth to the worst degrees, and has a serious distrust towards medical institutions.

GUILTY PLEASURE  :    leon is an alcoholic with argumentative tendencies who frequently indulges in one-night stands.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE  :    leon can’t stand dress code or uniform violations, improper cleanliness, or those with flippant demeanors showing a distinct lack of care, understanding, or concern for others in disadvantageous or unfortunate situations.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE  :    to scrub the threat of bioterrorism from the face of the earth, personal legal emancipation from his contract with the us government, to live in a world without constant fear of the next upcoming threat.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟹    :    𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP  :    bathroom. vomit. check firearm. brush teeth. aspirin. unlock bedroom door. coffee. treadmill. shower. dress. breakfast. it’s another day, survive, do it all over again tomorrow.

THEY THINK ABOUT MOST  :    what his life could have been, what other lives could have been, when does it end, will he be there to even see the end? what will it look like, will it be enough, will it satisfy him for all of this hell he’s endured to meet it, or will he always be looking for another threat, will he always be looking over his shoulder?

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED  :    do the ends justify the means? to who? / where does it end, when do we draw the line? / will i always be this angry, what do i do with all this anger? / i’m not too gone to come back from this, am i? / dead man walking. / always ready to run, always pretending i am not ready to run, even though there is nowhere to run to, no point to the running. / if you’re so lucky, why are you on your own tonight? / you survived. you weren’t meant to. live with that. / you lived where so many people died, and what have you done with your life to deserve it? / are you hurting the ones you love? so many glasses on the tabletop.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS  :    leon considers himself decently attractive with a good sense of humour (not so much) but he would say his best quality is his adaptability to a variety of circumstances, (which isn't bragging about himself; he actually gets this opinion straight from his interrogation & subsequent blackmailing by adam benford) usually in regards to capability with firearms, but also in regards to an ironclad will and not instantly going into shock and shutting down. this is half-true, leon is extremely capable on the field, and that's what he considers valuable, but in civilian situations, he’s not as in his element.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟺    :    𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒    𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES  :     single! he doesn't mind group dates, but rarely introduces his partners to his friends, usually because he doesn't stay in relationships for very long.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED  :     he would say respected if asked, but it would always be loved.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS  :    depends on his intentions. if he’s just going to bed with them, then beauty. something more? brains, although he wishes it could be just beauty, just so he wouldn’t have to explain why his life is such a downhill disaster and wouldn’t have to deal with the emotional turmoil from a partner capable of understanding his personal hell in detail and the effect of it on everyone around him.

DOGS OR CATS  :     cats. leon has a complicated view on dogs after being mauled in the raccoon city police department's parking garage, but he isn't as afraid of them as once was after freeing 'hewie' from the beartrap in valdelobos.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟻    :    𝐃𝐎    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

LIE  :     absolutely, more than he realizes, especially by convenient omission and selectively telling details but not entire truth, but he isn’t oblivious. leon lies to protect the government’s interests in multiple cases, and he does this often knowingly, but leon is also extremely good at tricking himself into believing his own lies until he’s not sure exactly sure himself what’s true, even after living through it himself. leon justifies his actions to himself or others through lies, omission of the truth, or misrepresentation of the situation. leon can lie about everything from how many drinks he’s had that night to us official involvement in raccoon city, even while under oath, which is serious considering the important moral weight he puts on justice and retribution for acts of injustice.

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES  :     conditioned and trained into reliance on his government handlers and into filling a demanding government role; he’s so uniquely specialized to thrive in his situation, that leon wouldn’t fit anywhere else in society now without reintegration therapy similar to what long-term prisoners and career military veterans go through. leon portrays himself very confidently, and believes that he is self-sufficient as an individual, but would crumble almost instantly in reality if thrown into the deep end without warning, and become quickly lost and overwhelmed without someone to give him orders or direction. the thought of striking out independently, while a goal of leon’s, is a terrifying consideration.

BELIEVE IN LOVE  :     it comes and goes by the hour.

WANT SOMEONE  :     to pull him out of the fight, to share with a glimpse of normalcy.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟼    :    𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘    𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑…

BEEN ON STAGE  :     yes, as an ornament, as an orator, as a product, as a poster-boy.

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN  :     he would not recognize himself.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟽    :    𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.

FAVOURITE COLOUR  :     sapphire blue.

FAVOURITE ANIMAL  :     admires anything feline, favors lions & 'mountain lions'.

FAVOURITE BOOK  :      criminal mystery, likely with a noir setting. diagnosing him with sherlock holmes enjoyer.

FAVOURITE GAME  :     leon has a few favorites in recent times, but will not play anything with a zombie-apocalypse setting. metal gear, hitman, tom clancy's, and assassin's creed are a few of his favorite videogame series.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟾    :    𝐀𝐆𝐄.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE  :     july 10th.

HOW OLD WILL THEY BE  :      46 yrs.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟿    :    𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

I LOVE  :   cheap brandy. the reliability of structure. playing part in the dispensation of justice, law, & order. 

I FEEL  :    ensnared. exposed like a raw wound. restless & resolute.  

I HIDE  :    behind the lies, for the sake of peace, for the sake of stability. the exhaustion.

I MISS  :    what could have been.

I WISH  :    for an end. for a world without fear. 

tagged by :    @sanctamater tagging:    whoever would like to! :)

#» 🕊️ ﹕ the means only justify the ends. (study.) ❧

[theblackphoenixwritings]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓 - 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬: 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬/𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐨 & 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬/𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐀𝐔/𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟎

Thorne's silence rang like a bell inside Marius. They walked the road back to Cripple Creek together, he and Thorne in front and Amadeo and Daniel behind them. Thorne seemed locked in thoughts that distressed him, but it was as if he felt, that this was not the place to share them. The slow advance of the horses, brought them near the cemetery that stood just outside the village. Its flayed wall composed of stones that were crumbling, and irons that had bent under the scorching sun, were not a pretty sight to be greeted by. The large beech tree, now dry, cast its dark shadow over the small chapel, which was also in poor condition, only the graves were pultite and tidy, a sign that citizens were visiting their loved ones. Marius had repeatedly argued for the cemetery to be restored, but the answer he always received from the city council was that, that plot of land belonged to the Church, and only the Priest could ask for it to be settled.

And of course Santo had no intention of giving up the alms, which went into his pockets, much less to fix the cemetery. Another reason why Marius hated the man, another reason why Marius wondered why the faithful did not chase him away. Marius slowed his pace until Wise stopped at the cemetery entrance, Thorne left him with a gesture pointing to the sheriff's office, Marius nodded. Daniel stopped beside Wise and stared at the tall figure of Marius entering the cemetery. When he turned around an auburn-haired figure was running after him. Daniel struggled with the idea of stopping him, but then decided to let him go and silently walked with Thorne toward the village.

Amadeo caught up with Marius, standing still, his black hat resting on his chest, and his long blond hair blowing in the wind, his sad eyes staring at the name on one of the many tombstones. Amadeo stopped beside Marius and lifted his face toward him, he knew at once that there rested someone Marius had loved deeply.

"He is my father," Marius explained, without taking his eyes off the tombstone.

"Did you love him?" asked Amadeo, and not because he didn't know, but to give Marius a way if he wanted to tell him about his father. Amadeo did not want to see that distressed expression on Marius' face.

"Oh yes," Marius replied with a smile " Immensely, little one, he was my father, to me he was perfect, even when he wasn't," Marius said, bending his head to the side " One should not be perfect but concrete, dedicated and loving. Without mistakes, none of us learns what to do or how to right a wrong. It is much harder to be able to admit a mistake and apologize and try to be better, than to simply be perfect." continued Marius, looking at Amadeo with his cobalt blue eyes, Amadeo seemed to think hard about those words before nodding.

"It's good to have someone to push you to be better and to support you, even if they make mistakes, in the path you take." he concluded.

"What about you?" asked Marius " Did you love your father?" the question caught Amadeo by surprise and his black eyes stared in wonder at Marius' handsome face. Amadeo seemed to consider his words.

"Yes, I think so. I have never questioned my father except before my faith.I understand now though, a father would want a son to embrace the world by living, and not by deciding to immolate himself. I don't know what became of him, but I think he too, like your father, wanted to see me confront the world and not be swallowed up by it. Whether it was because of my faith or something else matters little. He wanted me to be better, because he knew I could be." A large gloved hand was laid on Amadeo's shoulders, and he clasped Marius.

"Do you want to say a prayer for both of us?" asked Marius. " But don't say it for the dead, say it for the memories and for those left on this earth with an example to follow." concluded Marius.

So as the evening wind, began to sway the dry branches of the beech tree and raise the dust, Amadeo's words embraced his and Marius' hearts and reached out to those who were lovingly remembered on this earth.

"Come on, little one, I need to talk to Thorne, I think there's big trouble on the horizon," Marius said, trying to hide his concern. Amadeo looked at him with the eyes of a boy who is looking at the one important person in his life.

" Do you think I can be better?" asked Amadeo. Marius laughed, a cheerful laugh, different from his usual low rough laugh.

" What about you little one? Do you think I can be better?" asked Marius in reply.

" Mh.... I think we can work on this together." winked Amadeo.

"Shut up," mouthed Marius, covering Amadeo's face with his hat. Amadeo's laughter resounded in the silence of the cemetery, cheerful and spontaneous.

They reached Thorne and Daniel who had settled in the sheriff's office. The pot of coffee was always hot, and a bottle of whiskey had been opened and left on the desk, on top of various papers and documents. Marius grabbed the whiskey bottle and took a long sip, before putting it back on the table and leaning against the large wooden desk, behind which Thorne was sitting. Daniel was sitting on a stool in front of the fireplace, which was lit; the temperature dropped a lot at night; if they were to stay there and get organized, the fireplace was essential. Amadeo sat quietly as close as possible to Marius.

" What were you doing at the canyon my friend?" asked Marius quietly as he tried to organize his ideas.

" I've been looking for you, things here have been falling apart fast, I was hoping to meet you on the way back. And before you take me back, I wouldn't have left town if I hadn't heard rumors of strange deaths, and God only knows what the heck is going on! I could only hope to find you, and I was extremely worried. Tom came here to tell me that a whole herd was found dead, and they can't explain how, Tom says it's an epidemic of I don't know what. The stagecoach arrived and there was no one on board Marius. The horses arrived, exhausted and sweaty, scared to death, but there were no people and not even John and Grey to drive it. There was luggage, weapons, even the day's newspaper and a pair of binoculars. But the people? Gone. The train only started arriving at night, and it looks deserted, no lights, no music, no voices, nothing. And a guy as pale as death itself drives it! Never seen him before. Jack has come to tell me that macabre sounds and mysterious noises are coming from the old mine. No one passes by there anymore. You can well understand, therefore my concern, when I did not see you come back." Thorne looked devastated and really confused by the whole situation. Marius exchanged a look with Amadeo and Daniel.

"What's going on Marius?" asked Thorne.

"If I knew where to start, but first of all please believe me, my friend, what I am about to tell you is absolutely true and I have seen it with my own eyes." And Marius told the whole story, the rescue of Amadeo, the escape, until his reunion with Daniel. The bewilderment on Thorne's face gradually increased to the point that he turned pale and brought a hand to his mouth.

"So tomorrow we have to go and talk to Mr. Carson and we also have to investigate about Santo and his church," concluded Marius, who was puzzled as Thorne began to shake his head.

" Those who attacked us in the canyon cannot be Mr. Carson's men," Thorne asserted decisively, Marius suddenly silent, unsure what to do.

" Really my friend, it's just not possible," Thorne asserted with conviction.

" And why is that?" blurted Marius, who was confused, by that confidence of Thorne's.

"Because he is dead, Marius. Mr. Carson is dead." said Thorne, staring into Marius's blue eyes.

" One of his people came, the second day since you left. He said that Madame Eudoxia, sent him to warn us, that Mr. Carson died of a strange illness, which took him to the grave in three days. Their whole estate is afflicted with this disease. Madame Eudoxia took over upon the death of her husband, and apparently managed to survive the epidemic. Now they are trying to contain it." finished Thorne, leaning toward Marius.

"Did this emissary come at night?" asked Daniel from his corner, continuing to stare into the fire. Thorne looked puzzled then nodded.

"Damn it!" blurted Marius, who calmed down when Amadeo rested his hand on his arm.

" That's not all my friend," Thorne continued," I thought this was the lighter side, but I understand you know something I don't." Marius sat down and stretched his legs under the desk, seemingly deep in thought.

" I had to take the worshippers out of the church." Marius looked up and stared at Thorne in disbelief.

"Saint had locked them all in, babbling that a prophet had returned and shown himself to him. He spoke of a blood queen who had come to rule the World and show the way to God. Things to make your skin crawl! He spoke of fire and flames and blood, offerings and sacrifices. People got scared, they started screaming. It was terrible. Santo looked possessed, spirited, almost unrecognizable. His eyes were those of a madman. Rachel's family stayed, and Donna's family stayed too. No wonder, you know how attached they are to the Church, but I thought they would understand that Santo is up to something extremely dark. But they want to stay." Thorne poured himself a cup of hot coffee." There now you know everything. So tell me what do we do?"

" Are the people in the church safe?" asked Marius.

"I don't think Santo has harmed them," Thorne added.

" Tomorrow I will try to talk to him, and in the evening we will scout out Mr. Carson's lands. And God help us all, if what I fear is the reality we should face."

#writing challenge #my writing #western au #marius/armand #marius/daniel #vc #western Au part 10

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

___________________

Chapter 24, yay!

Also, this is something I probably should have said a while ago, but if you have any questions about anything or just want to say anything to me please comment or ask me. I need more excuses to infodump, and I hate to leave anyone confused.

have a nice day!

___________________

Chapter 24: Refugee Camp

Entrapta, along with Hordak, Emily, Imp, and the former horde soldiers, raced down to the base of the mountain to the massive crowd. As they got closer the more faces they recognized from the Fright Zone, and they realized people from the news were there. Once they got to the crowd, they were bombarded by microphones, cameras, and people asking too many questions.

“Lord Hordak, where were you when Horde Prime was here?” “Princess Entrapta, how will you deal with the war refugees?” “Lord Hordak, why have you decided to live in Dryl?” “Lord Hordak, can you give an official statement on your views on Horde Prime?” “Princess Entrapta, can you comment on your relationship with Lord Hordak?” “Lord Hordak, what are your views on the treatment of the clones?”

As their cameras flashed and their microphones closed in on Entrapta the more nervous she felt. She quickly slammed down her mask and coved her ears as she backed away right into Hordak. He quickly noticed her distress and with her consent picked her up and pushed through the crowd. He tasked Emily with keeping the reporters and paparazzi away as they ventured further into the crowd of refugees.

The group entered the crude camp the refugees had set up. Canvas tents with the Etherian Horde insignia littered the field; small fires gave off plumes of smoke filling the atmosphere with the smell of wood fires. Whispers filled the air as the group weaved their way through the camp. Then Hordak heard the calling of his name.

He turned around to see Octavia, Grizzlor, and Cobalt running toward him. He placed Entrapta down on her feet.

“Lord Hordak, Princess Entrapta, we’re glad you are here,” Octavia said, slightly winded.

“There is no need to call me that anymore, all political powers I possess are gone. More importantly, what is going on here?”

“Would you two like the long answer or the short answer?” Grizzlor asked.

“Long answer.” the couple answered.

“When Horde Prime took over the Scorponi Kingdom almost everyone fled to the Crimson Waste. Once the war was over the people who didn’t want to stay in the Crimson Waste wanted to go back to the Fright Zone. Then when word came out that Scorpia was gaining the throne many, including us, decided to come here since we trusted Princess Entrapta, and now that we know you’re here it’s even better.”

“Why wouldn’t you want Scorpia as a ruler?” Entrapta asked.

“Many people don’t want someone from her family on the throne because of their… legacy,” Cobalt explained.

“What legacy,” Entrapta looked at Hordak.

“When her family was in power they were tyrants who oppressed the people, her great-grandfather was particularly cruel. He was quick to punish and drained the national treasury with all the parties he held. Many people did not like him so there was a rebellion that I got caught up in and one thing lead to another and I became the ruler of the Scorponi kingdom.”

“Oh.”

“Even with her family ties people were wary regarding her competence as a ruler,” Cobalt commented.

“I always hear good things about her.” Hordak expressed.

“She was ok. A little airheaded and one track minded.” Octavia explained.

“Maybe if she didn’t spend so much time with Catra she would have done better. Speaking of, what happened to Catra? I heard she got caught up with Horde Prime before joining the Princesses.” Cobalt asked.

“She’s in Brightmoon with Adora. Later she is going to the Fright Zone to help Scorpia rebuild her kingdom. That reminds me you three have been tasked with the aid in rebuilding kingdoms around Etheria.” The trio of former commanders exclaimed their frustrations. “I know it is not ideal, but it is ‘necessary to heal Etheria’. I will put you in contact with Queen Glimmer so you three can get a grip on what your jobs entail.”

“You know what, it’ll be fine. Let’s go get more people settled.” Octavia sighed.

“I need to call a meeting with the Drylian council members about this whole situation. Hordak do you want to come up with me?”

“No thank you, Princess, I’ll try to help down here.”

“Wait I have money on the line here so I have to ask, are you two dating?” Octavia asked.

The couple looked at each other with flushed cheeks. Hordak looked slowly over to the one-eyed woman.

“...yes.”

“HA, I knew it! Pay up!” The two men begrudgingly dug through their pockets and put a sum of money in Octavia’s hand.

“Wait, you three made bets on our relationship!” Hordak exclaimed.

“Not just us.” Octavia chuckled as she counted her money.

“You didn’t know?” Entrapta exclaimed.

“No!”

____________________________________________________

After making sure his door was closed, Hordak flopped down on his bed. Today had been one of the most exhausting days he has experienced. Even though it is not #1, it was certainly up there. He had divulged one of his deepest secrets to a crowd of people who were mostly former sworn enemies. Then he spent two hours picking a name and filling out paperwork. Then he spends most of his day helping former underlings set up camps. Sparking long, awkward conversations with everyone. All while trying to fight off nosey news reporters that seemed to spontaneously appear wherever he went. 

Well, it could have been worse. He could have been stuck in a meeting for the bulk of his day like Entrapta. Entrapta and the council members had decided to let the refugees stay and populate the land at the base of the mountain. All of the Drylian citizens lived within the mountains of Dryl. Seeing as The Crypto Castle was the only structure visible from the outside of the mountain, there was plenty of room for the new citizens.

When Hordak, Emily, Lonnie, Kyle, and Rohelio got back to the castle, Entrapta informed Hordak that tomorrow she and the council with the aid of some construction workers will be drafting plans for new buildings and roads at the base of the mountain. She also informed him she would be visiting Scorpia tomorrow to locate the data from their portal project.

She offered to let him come, but he said she should go alone since the Princess Alliance probably wouldn’t want him there. She also should have a chance to hang out with her friends. Besides, he needs to spend time with his brothers. He has been neglecting them for the past couple of days, not of his own volition of course. He has just been busy, that’s all. Perhaps he could take them out to get more clothes? I mean, they had been wearing the black underclothes Prime gave them and Hordak himself only have his overall and the black turtleneck he found. They are supposed to be learning independence and new garments should be a step in the right direction. Maybe he could borrow some money from Entrapta, and pay her back when his money eventually comes through.

Then his conversation with Frosta popped into his head, and he realized how much he has been neglecting the romantic aspects of Entrapta and his relationship. The last romantic gesture he made was when he confessed his feelings to her and that was a week ago. This was a woman worthy of worship and here he was squandering the time with his petty problems. Think of all the stress he has put on her with dealing with his needs. He needs to do something special for her. He needs to make up for all the problems he has caused. Something that will get her mind off of everything that has happened.

At this point, he was up on his feet pacing around his room. As the gears in his mind spun his eyes burned holes in the ground. Then he stopped in his tracks as suddenly he remembered what star system he was in. He snatched his datapad off of his bed checking tomorrow’s date and confirming the event that was supposed to take place tomorrow.

#spop #hordak #entrapta #entrapdak #she ra #hyperfixation #spop fanfic #fanfic #scorpia #lonnie #kyle #rohelio #grizzlor #octavia #cobalt #frosta

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

When You Least Expect It | Chapter VII

Moon Knight 2022 | Marc Spector x F!Reader | Steven Grant x F!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5,369

Total Story Word Count: 25,726

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | 

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On AO3 Here

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Latest chapter! Whew. It was kind of a lengthy one. Hope you enjoy it! 

OOOOO

You were tied to a pillar. Your arms ached from being held at such an uncomfortable position. Looking to your left, you saw Layla. The men who had captured her earlier had bound her to the column next to you. Her head was bent down, chin resting against her chest. You saw some blood smeared across her forehead. You couldn't tell for sure, but it seemed during her scuffle with Harrow's men, they must have knocked her pretty good. Frowning, you realized this was not the ritual room, or at least, not from Ammit's tomb. If your memory served you correctly, you were in the center chamber of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Not that you'd ever been, but you were always enraptured by Steven's re-telling of Egyptian history. His descriptive details were enough to paint a picture of what the interior might look like. Looking up, you saw the triangular formation of the walls leading up towards the ceiling. Also, a big give away.

When had you travelled to the pyramids?

The last thing you remember was watching Marc get knocked unconscious and dragged behind you.

Now that you think about it, you were feeling a tad groggy, and your mouth tasted like chemicals. Chloroform? How original. You shook your head, looking around the room. There was something familiar about it, but you couldn't understand why.

There were five statues at the top of the stairwell lined in cobalt and gold. A recent conversation sparked in your mind. You remember Marc telling you about the meeting he had with the council. He mentioned those statues. This was where the Gods convened and decided Harrow was not a threat to release Ammit.

Bet they were rethinking things now.

Wait. Marc. Where was he?

You gazed about the chamber, eyes darting around trying to locate him. Harrow's men were gathered around in various places inside. Now that you were paying attention, you saw some people dragging bodies off to the side. Upon closer inspection, you counted five. Oh no. Were those the council's avatars?  Harrow had taken them out. Looking around a bit more frantic, you didn't see the cult leader himself in your search for Marc.

In the center of the room, you saw Harrow's cane. It had changed. Gone was the outward representation of an ordinary handle. In its place was the head of a crocodile. The eyes of the croc were glowing bright violet, and the remainder of the cane itself was embedded into a stone block. The block had multiple hieroglyphic carvings wrapped around it from top to bottom. In a fleeting thought, it reminded you of similar imagery to something out of the sword in the stone.

If the sword were also a glow stick of death.

The hieroglyphics were flickering intermittently. The head of the Ammit was turned, facing the right side of the room. There were purple tendrils running along the ground and up the wall nearest the side of the stone block. The power emanating from the cane created a distorted field everywhere the tendrils were wrapping. Like a protective shield.

That's when you saw him. Black curls and strands of hair poking out from the corner of the stone holding Harrow's cane.

Not a shield. A cage.

Marc was lying on the ground, still out cold. You couldn't make out the rest of his body, but you hoped he'd be alright. He still had Khonshu's healing.

You couldn't call his name without drawing attention to yourself. There was only one guard close to you. You tested your bindings whenever he wasn't facing your direction. You tugged, flexing your arms forward and backward with what room you had left. No success. You bit your lip, feeling the back pillar with your hands. It was old, ancient, which meant it wasn't smooth. There were rough patches all around. If you could find an area within your reach, you might be able to cut your bindings with enough effort.

Moving your hands from left to right, you attempted to make a sawing motion with your wrists.

"Hey," one of the men yelled.

You stopped, standing ramrod straight afraid you had just gotten caught. You turned your head towards the voice and were relieved that the outburst wasn't directed at you.

The man addressed the group, jutting his head towards a lit corner hallway in the back, "He's coming. It is almost time. Put those bodies in the alcove."

With your back against the pillar, you noticed you were no longer wearing your backpack. Taking another moment, you looked at the ground, twisting to find your bag. Glancing up towards the men and then back down, you saw it. It was behind you, on the wall between you and Layla.

Making a mental note, you were formulating a plan, once you freed yourself.

As you turned back, you saw Layla was waking up. She peered up, looking disoriented. Turning towards you, her eyes widened when she saw you also bound.

"You okay?" you mouthed to her silently.

She nodded in response. Layla tilted her head, searching. You realized she was looking for Marc. When she swung her gaze back to you, you pointed your head in the direction he was laying. She couldn't see any of him from her perspective, but hopefully she would catch on with the huge purple field surrounding that area of the chamber.

"What the hell is that?" she whispered.

You pursed your lips, looking to make sure no one was paying attention to you both.

"Magical containment," you replied quietly.

"That's a thing?"

"Unfortunately," you said.

Layla tried to break free from her restraints, but didn't have any luck.

That's when you saw Harrow walk into the room. He was holding the stone statue of Ammit with him.

"Ladies, so glad you could join us. I think you will all be enlightened once Ammit has been freed from her prison," Harrow said, stopping to stand between the two of you.

"What did you do to Marc?" Layla asked, struggling against the pillar.

"Him? Oh, I assure you, he's fine. I am simply ensuring he doesn't interrupt our plans prematurely."

You noticed Marc beginning to stir, watching him roll over and bring a hand to his face.

"Please don't release Ammit. However you envision how things will go, they won't. Trust me, I've been through enough of these things to know," you pleaded with him, trying to buy Marc some time to recover.

Arthur moved his hands behind his back, walking over to stand in front of you.

"Your concern is noted, however, please forgive me if I don't follow your advice," he said.

Harrow brought one hand from around his back and grabbed something from his pocket. He pulled out an Egyptian carving knife. It had a gold hilt. You couldn't make out the engravings, but they were very intricate. Arthur stepped up you, leaning around your left side. You swallowed thickly as he brought the knife close to your body, but he moved his arm to your back. Your arms dropped down, feeling the zip ties fall away from your wrists. He shifted the knife into his other hand holding the crocodile statue and grabbed your arm with the other.

"I'm going to have to apologize in advance, but I need you for what comes next," Arthur said.

Your eyebrows raised at that, "You need me for what exactly?"

He didn't answer you, just pulled you along to an alter at the front of the chamber. Knowing nothing good was about to happen, you looked over to Layla and tried to point to your bag. She turned to gaze at the bag and then back to meet your eyes, shaking her head that she understood. You tried to twist out of Harrow's grasp, but he seemed stronger than normal. You continued to struggle every inch of the way. As you reached the alter, you heard Marc shout your name.

You whipped your head around, hearing his voice, "Marc!"

Marc looked to Layla, then to you. He tried to break through the barrier, but it just propelled him backwards onto the floor.

You grimaced. That probably hurt.

"Summon -," you started to say, when Arthur handed you off, only to have someone cover your mouth and hold you in place.

You put all your weight in the heels of your feet and pushed back. You were hoping to knock the guy off balance, but it only angered him. Agitated, he pulled your arm up at an unnatural angle. The motion caused a muffled cry to escape your lips, against his hand. Still struggling, you had limited options, so you bit the man's hand. He wasn't expecting it, which made him remove the hand from your mouth.

"The suit. Marc, it's nightfall," you shouted.

Harrow had just placed the statue of Ammit on the ground in the center of the alter. He stood up and motioned for the guy holding you to move you forward to him. You saw him give a sparing glance to Marc before facing you.

You watched, as a panicked expression took over his face, before summoning his ceremonial armor. As Marc fully transformed into Moon Knight, he pulled out his blades and ran towards the containment field.

"You're going to regret doing this," you glared to Harrow.

He just smirked at you, a knowing look on his face, "No, I don't believe I will."

You averted your eyes away from him and back to Marc. As his shoulder connected with the barrier, the tendrils swirled and kicked him back.  It didn't work. He couldn't get through. That's why Harrow wasn't worried about Marc. The power contained in the cane was strong enough to stop Marc from getting out even with Khonshu's armor.

"Harrow - don't do this," Layla echoed.

"Arthur stop," Marc said.

Harrow reached for your hand, tugging one of your arms forward. He flipped your hand over, palm facing up.

"This is going to hurt," Harrow said.

He raised his knife up in his free hand and sliced your palm. You cried out in pain, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp. You watched as the blood bubbled up and poured out from the wound, dripping onto the floor of the alter.

"No!" you heard Marc's agonized yell.

Harrow brought your hand and held it over the statue of Ammit. Blood droplets fell onto the statue, coating the top half.

"I could have released Ammit without you. But given the knowledge of how rare you are and what you are capable of as a soulmate - your blood with only make Ammit even more powerful upon her arrival into this world," he explained.

He let go of your hand and then crushed the statue with his foot.

"Khonshu!" Marc shouted, frantically trying to find anyway to break out of his confinement.

A spiral of energy whipped around you. There was smoke billowing up from the broken statue and violet colored energy forming in the air above Harrow. You watched as Ammit revealed herself on the steps to the entrance to the chamber. Harrow's men were so shocked and awed by the appearance of Ammit, they let their guard down. You saw your opening and gently removed your arm from the guy holding you. Enraptured from her appearance, all of the followers, including Arthur, took a knee.

You stealthily crept into the shadows and made your way over to Layla. You searched for something, anything to free her.

"To whom do I owe my gratitude?" Ammit said, she was pacing back and forth on the landing.

"A humble disciple my goddess, to which you owe nothing." Harrow replied, bowing his head.  

"Your scales lack balance."

"I understand. I had hoped my penance would correct that, but I see now that is not possible. Do with me as you wish," Arthur humbly answered.

Under a broken piece of stone, you managed to find a sharp edge of rock. Picking it up, you crawled over to Layla using the shadows of the chamber to hide you.

Ammit had decided Arthur would be his avatar even with his unbalance.

You made it over to Layla and saw Khonshu had appeared behind the pillar you were just tied up at. Ignoring him for now, you broke the bindings holding Layla's hand together with a sold hit using the rock. Layla scooted around hiding behind the pillar with you.

"This is all very bad. Is there a plan?" Layla asked, rubbing her wrists to put some circulation back into them.

You moved your jacket away and tore off a bottom strip of your shirt to wrap your bleeding hand in, "There's part of a plan?" You made a see-saw motion with your injured palm, once you finished bandaging it.

Layla gave you an incredulous look.

"Hey - I'm doing my best under the circumstances!"

You jutted your head for Layla to follow you to your backpack.

"Khonshu, can you keep Ammit busy while we try to free Marc?" you murmured out.

"I can distract her, but will need Marc Spector in order to re-bind Ammit."

You pulled your staff out of the bag.

"Layla, Khonshu is going to distract Ammit. Can you get to the stone block and get Harrow's cane? Removing it, from it's place, should lift the containment field holding Marc and Steven," you explained.

"Yeah, I can get to it, but what about Ammit's disciples?" Layla questioned.

You stood up and activated your staff, "I plan on being the secondary distraction, hoping to draw enough attention away so you can get to Marc."

"Be careful."

"You too," you said, before turning to address the King of the Night, "Khonshu, you enjoy making dramatic entrances, why don't you go first?"

He peered down at you and nodded before swiftly disappearing in a swirl of smoke.

You and Layla leaned out from the pillar to catch Marc's bright eyes. He was making animated movements with his hands. You think it was an attempt to tell you both to leave, but that sure as hell wasn't going to happen. You both just rolled your eyes at him, knowing it was a futile effort. Like you were going to actually leave. You snorted. Ridiculous man.

You saw Khonshu re-appear, standing tall with his staff in hand, facing Ammit and her newly anointed disciples.

"Khonshu, time has been cruel to you," Ammit said.

"Indeed," he stated.

Khonshu moved towards Ammit. Harrow finally stood up as well as the rest of the people in the room.

"I cannot allow you to proceed," he continued.

You saw Harrow glance around, realizing you and Layla had vanished from his sight.

"Find them," you heard Harrow speak.

Great. Okay Khonshu, anytime now.

The men started to spread out in the chamber.

"Oh Khonshu, you are low on faith," Ammit spoke sadly.

"You never learn," Khonshu replied, raising his staff in defense.

Ammit growled at Khonshu, then attacked.

"Now!" you said.

You raced out into the middle of the chamber, staff held at your side.

"Grab her," Harrow said, pointing at you.

A group of four came running towards you. As they got closer to you, you raised your staff and brought it down to the ground. The impact reverberated against the ground and the force sent the disciples flying backwards to the floor. Another one of chosen had spotted Layla halfway to Marc.

"Don't let her get to that cane!" Arthur shouted.

You sprinted to intercept them from getting to Layla, but you were blasted with energy mid run, the hit throwing you away from the fight. Your back slammed into one of the columns near the staircase.

"Ow," you mumbled, picking yourself back up.

You surveyed the room and Khonshu was not doing well against Ammit. His staff had been dropped and they were tumbling around the room. Neither one truly gaining the upper-hand, but Khonshu was weakening. He needed help soon. Twisting around, you noticed Layla was now fighting against several men. She was holding her own, but it still left Marc trapped. He was pacing anxiously, occasionally trying different areas of the barrier to see if he could get out. But every time he tried, it would knock him back.

Staring straight ahead, Arthur was walking lazily to you. Confidence exuding in every step he took.

Marc was shouting your name again. You turned to him, stepping backwards slowly as Harrow was approaching.

"Get out of here," Marc yelled.

"I'm not leaving you."

Harrow shot another bout of energy from his hand. This time you were ready. You brought your staff up and held down the center button. A shield came up protecting you from the energy surge. The magic was intense, it was so powerful it caused you to skid backwards. It took almost all of your strength to hold the staff level.

You bent your head down trying to concentrate. There had to be something you could do. Think, think, God dammit. You gazed at Marc, watching him in his Moon Knight armor.

An idea came to mind.

A leap of faith. You had to take a leap of faith, if you were to really believe you were somehow connected as soulmates.

You gritted your teeth and pushed back against Harrow. The shield bounced his energy back at him, knocking him unsteady. With that opening, you checked to make sure Layla was still okay before darting towards Ammit and Khonshu.

"Khonshu! Bad timing for conversation, but I need to know something," you said to him, dashing past a few disciples. You swiped one of them into unconsciousness with your staff, not stopping along the way. "If soulmates are connected to an avatar, do they possess the ability to summon your armor?"

The Moon God punched the crocodile in the face before answering, his breathing slightly labored.

"It has never been attempted before. It could be possible for a brief period of time, but it would not heal you from injury. The armor would recognize you aren't my true avatar and eventually reject you."

"But it's possible," you stated.

"At what cost," Khonshu said, before Ammit barreled into his mid section, knocking him to the ground with a rumble.

You saw Harrow still focused on you and jumped out of the way when another energy bolt was released. The energy hit one of the statues, causing it to crumble. You were breathing heavily and had made it to the top of the stairwell, with a clear view of Marc.

There was chaos everywhere. Layla was forced to backtrack and she disappeared down a hallway, a few of the group following her.

Looking at Harrow, he just raised his arms up from his side, "You cannot win. Ammit will reign supreme and all will be judged."

You had no clue if you could wear Khonshu's ceremonial armor, but you had to try. Taking a deep breath, you shifted your eyes to gaze at Marc. There were so many thoughts running through your head, but you tried to clear them all away and just focus on him. Let everything else fade away.

His face covering had been removed, revealing his face. His expression said everything. He was angry and confused, feeling helpless that he couldn't do anything.

Inhaling noisily, you stretched out an arm to him. You locked eyes with his and felt your entire body thrum with energy.

Summon the suit. Summon the suit. You kept chanting to yourself.

You could do this. You just had to believe.

You closed your eyes and concentrated. You could feel the energy building in your body, singing through your veins. There was incoherent noise around you, but you ignored it all. You listened to your body, when you thought the energy had reached it's peak inside your body, you opened your eyes and tugged your arm back with a jerking motion.

Gasping, you felt a power flow through you. A burning sensation started creeping behind your eyes. Your body became rigid. When you opened your eyes again, you saw the armor unravelling from Marc's body and winding itself around you. You looked down at yourself once the armor finished wrapping around you. You felt stronger, lighter, with endless amounts of energy. Your eyes felt like 200 watt lightbulbs. Jesus, is this how Marc and Steven feel when they put this on?

You gave yourself a quick once over. The suit you wore was very similar to Marc's. There were a few subtle differences. The cape attached to your back was hooked on your left shoulder and draped down, connecting to the belt on your right hip. The angle forced the cape to appear as a crescent moon. Your arms were also sleeveless. You had gloves on that matched Steven's Mr. Knight suit and wrist braces that came from Marc's outfit. Then the upper part of your arms had two golden braces on either side. They appeared to be made out of the same material as the blades. Each arm brace encased your arm with a raised crescent moon emblem attached to the front.

It worked. It actually worked. That meant it was true. Being told you're someone's soulmate is one thing, but now. Now, you're actually seeing visual proof. You flipped your hands back and forth, marveling. Oh, shit. Okay, I believe. I believe.

You looked to Marc.

His jaw had dropped, gaping in a stupefied expression. Like, he couldn't quite believe what happened. He started to move forward, but stopped himself when he realized the barrier was still up.

"Well, now this - this I was not expecting," Harrow crooned.

"What can I say? I was feeling epic," you light-heartedly joked. You slowly walked, one foot crossing in front of the other. Keeping your movements precise, you and Harrow began to encircle one another.

"I'm almost disheartened to have to kill you now," Arthur said.

He struck first, driving forward. He tried to land a punch to your face, but you side-stepped, easily blocking him. You kicked out from behind, creating more distance between the two of you.

Harrow's men gathered around you, all poised to strike. You weren't going to use Khonshu's blades against. You didn't want to kill anyone. No matter the threat level. You twirled your staff in front of you, bouncing one end on the ground to launch you into the air. You did your best to aim and land on the block holding Harrow's cane, but you were hit from the side, knocking you short. Your staff rolled away as you tumbled over on the ground from the hit.

Groaning, you felt your body ache. Right, no healing. You need to hurry up and get to Marc.

The chamber started rumbling.  You saw Ammit throw Khonshu into the far-side wall. Yeah, that'll make the pyramids shake.

The disciples were closing in on you and your staff was too far away. Dusting yourself off, you had no choice but fight them hand to hand. Alright, let's see what this suit can do. Dodging from side to side, you blocked, punched, kicked trying to get an opening to reach Marc.

You definitely weren't built for this. As much power as the suit provided, you were still woefully underprepared. You were able to fumble your way well enough, but they were still coming. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harrow smirk at you and motion to a smaller group to follow him out of the pyramid.

As you were still fighting, you saw some of the suit starting to unravel. Oh, no. You were running out of time.

With a flurry of kicks and punches, you focused on knocking the remaining bunch unconscious. You landed one punch a bit too hard and sent one of the guys flying across the room into a wall. Oops. The others stopped to eye you cautiously. You just shrugged.

"What? It's new," you said, "Who's next?"

They all converged on you at the same time. You crouched down and swiped your leg out, taking the closest guy to you out. Then you jumped up and grabbed the next one, wrapping an arm around his neck, forcing his body to be placed in front of you. You kicked him into the next attacker, causing them both to fall to the ground.

There was one left. You eyed your staff. You swept the floor with your cape, flipping to pick up your staff from the dusty ground. The disciple anticipated your move and dove towards you, but you were able to roll out of the way. You took your staff hit him in the back as he flew right by you. The force of the hit knocked him out.

The chamber was quiet all of a sudden. All that could be heard was your breathing. You surveyed the room. Ammit and Khonshu were gone. Not wasting anymore time, you ran over to Marc, climbing up the engraved block holding Harrow's cane. You grabbed onto the croc's head, getting ready to pull it out when a burst of energy hit your solar plex, throwing you off.  

Pain erupted in your side. You looked down to see what happened. The armor was still in tact. Getting up, you jumped onto the stone block again.

"You okay?" Marc asked.

"Peachy," you sarcastically answered, "Let's get you out of here, yea?"

You reached down to grab a different part of the cane, but stopped. You noticed some of the glowing pieces that were imbued with power missing. You didn't have time to give it much thought, but knew if you grabbed it again - you'd most likely get thrown across the room a second time. You'd like to avoid that. You've been tossed around enough today. You pulled two blades from the centerpiece on your chest instead, and used them to leverage the cane out. When the cane hit the floor, it disappeared as if teleporting away.

The field of energy dissipated, releasing Marc.

"Hey you," you said, running up to him relieved. You pulled down the cowl from your face.

You saw more of the suit unravelling in different places.

Marc met you halfway and put you in a bone crushing hug, cradling the back of your head with one hand.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again."

"I'm sorry," your muffled into the crook of his neck.

Marc pulled away reluctantly to look at you. There was a small shift in his eyes.

"Wow, you look amazing!" Steven said, an expression of awe appearing on his face.

"Thanks Steven," you blushed.

There was another shift.

"Steven's right, you look...good," Marc said giving you an appreciative look, "How did you end up wearing the suit anyways?"

"Soulmates."

"Right, wow. Okay, had almost forgotten about that."

"It's a limited time deal. The suit is rejecting me as Khonshu's avatar," you said, pointing to the wrist where the suit was coming undone. The unravelling had reached the upper half of your arm now and parts of your legs.

"You need to stop Harrow and Ammit, and I'm going to get Layla. I think she's okay, but there were guys chasing after her. It's possible she made it outside," you said.

"So how....," Marc trailed off, motioning back and forth between your suit and himself.  

With your hands on your hips, you hummed in thoughtfulness. Thinking back on how you summoned the suit, you tried to figure out how to send it back to him.

Suddenly, you had a thought. Smirking at Marc, you figured the suit gave you enough confidence to try what you had planned.

Cocking his head to the side, Marc eyed you wearily at your abrupt change, "What?"

"Do you trust me?" you asked.

"Yes? What does that have to -"

Upon hearing his initial answer you grabbed Marc by the lapels of his jacket, kissing him, effectively cutting off his reply. You threw all your emotions into the kiss. No more hesitation, no more dancing around what they may or may not be. Marc stumbled into the kiss, but recovered admirably. He responded in kind, burying one his hands in your dark locks, while running his other hand up your back.

You felt the armor leaving your body in full force now. The material underneath your hands of Marc's jacket shifted. You finally broke off the kiss, breathless. You watched the remnants of armor leaving your body and finished materializing on him. It was quite the sight. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. Now, bright, white eyes stared back at you.

Marc felt around his body making sure the armor was actually there.

"Did you just transfer the ceremonial armor to me via kiss?" he questioned, disbelief coloring his voice.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time. It was worth a shot," you shrugged, grinning at him.

"Fuck, baby. That was amazing."

You laughed at that.

"Yeah, wasn't half bad," you poked at him.

A large crash sounded on one of the sides of the pyramid. Stones started falling from the walls and ceiling.

"You should probably - " you motioned for him to get going.

"You need to get out of here," Marc said, gripping your arms lightly.

"I will, let me find Layla, and we'll high tail it out of this pyramid."

Marc seemed to hesitate, but nodded at you, "Okay, but not a minute more, alright?"

"Deal."

With superhuman speed, Marc flew out of the pyramid, cape flapping out revealing the shape of his crescent moon.

The rumbling had subsided some, but now you could heard screaming coming from the open pathway that led outside. You started walking forward in the direction of where you last saw Layla, but stopped when you felt an intense pain in your side again. Shifting your light jacket out of the way, you finally saw what Khonshu's armor failed to reveal. Those missing pieces from the cane. They were embedded in your lower abdomen. Like shards of glass slicing into your skin. Groaning, you're not sure why you hadn't picked up on it earlier. Must have been all that adrenaline coupled with the suit.

Fuck. Khonshu had warned you that you wouldn't heal.

You limped over to your abandoned bag.  Lifting it up with your foot, you grabbed a strap in reach, so you wouldn't have to bend down. You rummaged around for some bandages. When you were ready, you reached down with one hand bracing yourself for the pain that would inevitably come from removing the shards. As your hand touched one of the pieces, your whole body jolted in pain, dropping you to your knees. Tendrils of energy wrapped around your hand briefly before dissipating. Oh, shit. You couldn't get them out. It's like they were magically attached to you. There was blood seeping out of the wound too. You put one hand on the ground to catch your breath, wincing every few seconds.

You bit your lip. You couldn't stay here. You needed to find Layla. Appraising your injury, you weren't severely bleeding, but there would be blood loss over time. You just hoped Marc and Khonshu would be able to defeat Ammit and Harrow. Khonshu was probably your only saving grace to getting these shards out of your body. Sighing in resignation, you took the bandages in your other hand and decided to wrap them around your midsection to help slow the bleeding. You stood up once you finished, wheezing from the effort. Checking, you saw your staff was still attached to your hip. Good, at least you don't have to bend down again.

Swallowing several times, you fought back the nausea building in your stomach. You pushed down all the pain, setting a determined look on your face. Time to find Layla and get the hell out of here before this whole place comes crashing down.

OOOOO

#moon knight #moon knight series #marc spector #steven grant #layla el faouly #arthur harrow #khonshu #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader

[feyresdaughter]

A Court of Wings and Ruin, chapter 66:

Frowning at the mirror, I braided my hair and shrugged on my jacket, hissing at the movement in my shoulder. Another day or two, and the pain might be minimal enough to wield a sword. Maybe.

We are not talking enough about the fact that Feyre caught an ash arrow when she rescued Elain???

I quietly asked the nearest camp-mother to dig up some platters of food for my sisters . Elain was likely starving, and I doubted Nesta had eaten anything during the hours we’d been gone. The winged matron only asked if I needed anything, and when I told her I was fine, she just clicked her tongue and said she’d make sure food found its way to me, too. I didn’t have the nerve to request she find some of Amren’s preferred food as well. Even if I had no doubt Amren would need it—

Pls, the way Feyre thinks about gettim them all food 😭 she's so mother

Long-limbed creatures like shards of ice given form stalked past, tall enough to plant the cobalt-and-silver banners atop various tents; wagons were hauled by sure-footed reindeer and lumbering white bears in ornate armor, some so keenly aware when they ambled by that I wouldn’t have been surprised if they could talk. White foxes scuttled about underfoot, bearing what looked to be messages strapped to their little embroidered vests.

Not gonna lie, the winter court sounds amazing

My brows rose. The human girl— Briar— was with them. Now tucked beneath Viviane’s arm, face still bruised and swollen in spots, but … smiling timidly at the Winter Court ladies.I spoke before she could get the first word out, “You gave Briar over to them?” We fell into step back toward our own camp. “Az explained the state you found her in. I didn’t think being exposed to battle-ready Illyrians would do much to soothe her.” - “And the Winter Court army is much better?” - “They’ve got fuzzy animals.”

Viviane is also very mother. And the fuzzy animal comment is VALID

Mor glanced sidelong at me. “You did a very brave thing in saving Briar.” - “Anyone would have done it.” - “No,” she said, adjusting her tight Illyrian jacket. “I’m not sure … I’m not sure even I would have tried to get her. If I would have deemed the risk worth it. I’ve made enough calls like that where it went badly that I …” She shook her head.

I love Feyre so much 😭

"And when I saw you two vanish … I had this thought, this terror, that I might not get to see you again. To make things right.” - “I said things I didn’t really mean to—” - “We both did.” She led me up to the tree line at the border of both our camps,

When I tell you I love them

She leaned against a towering oak, foot tap-tapping on the ground. “No more lies between us.” Guilt tugged on my gut. “Yes,” I said. “I— I’m sorry about deceiving you. I just … I made a mistake. And I’m sorry.”

“I don’t love Azriel.” I remained perfectly still. Listening. “No, that’s not true, either. I— I do love him. As my family. And sometimes I wonder if it can be … more, but … I do not love him. Not the way he— he feels for me.” The last words were a trembling whisper. “Have you ever loved him? That way?” - “No.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “No. I don’t … You see …” I’d never seen her at such a loss for words. She closed her eyes, fingers digging into her skin. “I can’t love him like that.” - “Why?” - “Because I prefer females.”

Idc what you think about this plot I LOVE that Feyre is the first to know

"— I am stronger than him. It was … It was the idea of being bred like a prize mare, of being forced to give up that one part of me …” Her mouth wobbled, and I reached for her hand, prying it off her arm. I squeezed gently as tears began sliding down her flushed face.

I LOVE MORRIGAN

“Her name was Andromache. And she was … so beautiful. And kind. And I loved her … so much.” Human. Andromache had been human. My eyes burned. “But she was human. And a queen— who needed to continue her royal line, especially during such a tumultuous time. So I left— went home after the last battle. And when I realized what a mistake it was, that I didn’t care if I only had sixty more years with her … The wall went up that day.” A small sob came out of her.

I literally can't imagine how hard that must have been for Mor. Ugh, I wanna hug heeeer

I squeezed her hand once more. “You’ll tell them when you’re ready. And I’ll stand by you no matter what. Until then … Your secret is safe. I won’t tell anyone— even Rhys.” - “Thank you,” she breathed. I shook my head. “No— thank you for telling me. I’m honored.” I said quietly. “But I understand. And, again … when you decide the time is right, whether it’s tomorrow or in another five hundred years … I’ll have your back.”

Everybody deserves a friend like Feyre Archeron

“What?” she asked, coming to my side. “I was just thinking,” I said, smile growing, “that whenever you’re ready … I was thinking about how much fun I’m going to have playing matchmaker for you.” Mor’s answering grin was brighter than the entirety of the Day Court.

FEYRE ALREADY PLANNING TO PLAY MATCHMAKER

“If I end my life defending those who need it most, then I will consider it a death well spent.” Lord Devlon, for once, nodded his approval.

Pls that is so hot of Cassian

“We’ll need all the strength we have to fight Hybern,” Kallias said carefully. “Wasting it on winnowing humans—” - “It is no waste,” I said. “One life may change the world. Where would you all be if someone had deemed saving my life to be a waste of time?” I pointed to Rhys. “If he had deemed saving my life Under the Mountain a waste of time? Even if it’s only twenty families, or ten … They are not a waste. Not to me— or to you.” Viviane was giving her mate a sharp, reproachful glare, and Kallias had the good sense to mumble an apology.

We love Viviane in this house

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #feyre archeron #feyre archeron supremacy #feyre cursebreaker #feyre darling #high lady feyre #feyre #feyre acotar #feyre supremacy #pro feyre #morrigan acotar #mor acotar #morrigan #feyre x mor #mor #the morrigan #cassian acotar #viviane acotar #acowar #a court of wings and ruin #winter court

[awesomefroggy]

The Mighty Nein's MtG Decks

Because apparently my current niche is oddly specific headcanons and also @fluffmonger asked. These are all gonna be commander decks because that's what I play. @qumulox helped too.

Fjord- Galea, Kindler of Hope. Equipment tribal to the max, with all kinds of Hexproof this and Protection from [COLOR] that. He has strong feelings on deck composition and ratios, and he's very meticulous about it. He keeps everything in Dragon Shield sleeves and Boulder boxes color coordinated with the deck's colors, and he's had the one same UltraPro playmat for years and doesn't see why people change them.

Beau- Yuriko, the Tiger's Shadow. Just to be rude as hell. You'd think she'd have a monk deck, but they're too slow and don't pack enough oomph. Beau will claim she just tossed it together, but in reality she spent hours on EDHRec and Reddit pulling together an optimized list. She's got one of the schmancy premuim leather mats that's cobalt blue, but she balances out the bougie by using $3 UltraPro sleeves.

Caleb- Yes. That isn't a card name, Caleb is just 100% your deck brewing buddy who never keeps a deck longer than two meetups and is constantly noodling with something new. Sometimes it's aggressively potent. Sometimes it's trash. Sometimes he makes a Group Huh?? deck just for shits and giggles. But you can always count on him playing on a pristine cat themed playmat, and his Satin Towers are somehow always immediately damaged.

Veth- Grenzo, Dungeon Warden. Full aggressive red/black that is just mean (and she thinks it's funny to use the Goblin Rogue). Flood the board with dudes, and as many sacrifice spells as needed. She throws Treasure mechanics in there for funsies and uses buttons as the tokens. She doesn't sleeve her deck or use a playmat, if only to watch Caleb wince as she riffle shuffles.

Jester- Toski, Bearer of Secrets. Jester has a squirrels deck because of course she does. She also makes decks based on the art, and they're much better than they have any right to be. The sleeves? Custom printed with Traveler art. The playmat? She did her own rendition of the cover of Tusk Love and got that custom printed too. Jester also paints custom card alters.

Molly- Nymris, Oona's Trickster. His whole theme is just stacking his deck and doing card tricks with anything that has Flash. The whole deck is either foil, Secret Lairs, and/or whatever he finds the prettiest, but also he keeps the whole thing in Pokémon sleeves he traded a kid for and he plays on a Vanguard mat that got left behind at a shop. The deck is in a sandwich bag and he never bothered to get a tube for the mat. Side note, Molly is 100% the type of person who has a very nicely proxied Black Lotus in a penny sleeve with a staple through it just to fuck with people.

Caduceus- The Gitrog Monster. This firbolg can play so much Golgari. It's all life, death, the land, pulling things from the graveyard, building from what you sacrifice. Caduceus keeps his cards neatly in nice mint Dragon Shields and a pretty wood and resin box he found on Etsy. He plays on a cloth playmat he found there too.

Kingsley- Zacama, Primal Calamity. Kingsley made a dinosaur deck in Ixalan and was set for life. He also threw a treasure subtheme into his just for giggles. Kingsley picked some anime sleeves for something he'd never heard of before because he thought it was hilarious, and his playmat was swiped from a freebie bag of Playmats Long Lost at a game shop. A habit that goes across souls? Keeping decks in a sandwich bag.

Yasha- Oloro, Ageless Aescetic. It's just a numbers game. Yasha really only plays because her friends do, so she just gains life until she gets bored and starts slamming people with Aetherflux Reservoir. She's got a beautiful mat that is a print of Jester’s flower mural, and she's got awesome lighting bolt sleeves.

Essek- Sen Triplets This man is not here to fuck around. It's just hard control all the way down. He's got a Grand Arbiter Augustin IV in there "because it's synergistic." Listen man. Essek Thelyss is that rude bitch who rolls up with a leather gaming bag, a vermaloc purple heart deck box and a purple leather playmat and custom sleeves and has the nerve to turn his nose up at your UltraPro mat.

#cr meta #Mighty Nein #Oddly specific headcanons #But I do love them #mtg