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targaryenrealnessdarling · 13 days

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Blood of My Blood

Summary: Stuck between duty and passion, she is given no choice but to yield to the game Aemond wishes to play | Words: 4.1k~ | Warnings: a lot of talk of illegitimacy, hatefucking, dubcon, incest (character is implied to have strong features), p in v sex, baby trapping, forced marriage

Can be read as a stand-alone or as a part two for The Blood is Rare!

His fingers tightened around her arm, the pressure a mix of anger and possessiveness. He forcefully ushered her across the threshold of the chambers she once called home, back when she resided there alongside the Hightower children. The worn flagstones caused her feet to stumble, while her forearm throbbed with bruises from his grip. She shot him a glance filled with both hurt and fury.

“You cannot treat me like this,” she spat viciously.

Aemond merely stepped back, his expression unyielding. "You are to be my wife. I'll treat you as I please."

Before she could reach the double doors, they slammed shut, brass fixtures rattling as Aemond hastened to secure her inside. Despite her feeble attempts to push back against the doors, her fists bruised from the effort, he locked her in without hesitation.

“They will come for me!” she screamed in protest, “unlock this, at once!”

Locked within the confines of the chamber, her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and defiance. She paced the room, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and retribution. Outside, the distant echoes of footsteps and murmured voices hinted at the presence of guards or servants, but she knew she couldn't rely on them for help.

King Viserys was dead. And Alicent Hightower planted her son on her mother’s throne.

As the hours dragged on, her frustration grew with each passing moment. She tried every possible means of escape, but the sturdy oak doors remained firmly shut, sealing her fate within the chamber. Her mind raced with thoughts of her family, of the kingdom thrown into turmoil by the sudden death of King Viserys. And now, with Aemond's revelation of his family's plan to anoint Aegon on the morrow, she realised the true extent of the danger she faced.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing outside her prison. The door creaked open, and Aemond stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. She studied his face, and saw he looked slightly withered and tired, covered with a mask of coldness.

"We have much to discuss," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "But first, you must understand the gravity of the situation."

She eyed him warily, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon will be crowned tomorrow," he explained, his tone solemn. "And my family has plans for us as well."

Her stomach churned with dread as she listened to his words. "What plans?"

"A marriage," he said simply, his gaze unwavering. "In the traditions of our ancestors, to solidify our alliance and secure our place in the new realm."

Her mind reeled at the thought of marrying the man who had imprisoned her against her will. But she knew that in the game of thrones, alliances were forged with marriages as much as with swords.

A tension-laden silence filled the chamber, thick with unspoken words and unyielding resolve. her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed her options, acutely aware of the consequences of her decision. The memory of their clandestine tryst, a moment of forbidden passion she dared not admit she had enjoyed, lingered in the recesses of her mind, adding an unexpected layer of complexity to the situation.

"I will not be your pawn," she said, her voice trembling with defiance.

A flicker of anger flashed across Aemond's face, but it was quickly replaced by a cold mask of indifference.

"You have no choice," he said icily. "You will marry me, for the good of our families and the realm. Just as Daeron will wed a Baratheon girl, to secure-"

She shook her head stubbornly, her resolve hardening with each passing moment. "I will not be forced into a marriage I do not want."

Aemond's gaze narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Do not be foolish, mandianna. You have a duty to your family, to the legacy of House Targaryen. You will marry me, and you will bear me heirs to secure our place in history."

But she refused to be swayed by his empty words. "I will not be your broodmare, and I will not be shackled to you for the rest of my days," she declared, her voice trembling with righteous indignation. "Not when you have already taken so much from me."

Aemond's expression darkened, his features contorted with anger. "Do not speak to me of what I have taken," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You gave yourself to me willingly, and now you will suffer the consequences."

She swallowed thickly, her pride blurring the edges of what she knew was the truth.

“He is no King of mine.”

A heavy silence settled over the chamber, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a shroud of defiance. Aemond's eye blazed with fury, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed as if he might shatter his teeth with the force of his anger. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them palpable. The threat of declaring treason hung heavy.

Finally, Aemond broke the silence, his voice cold and menacing. "You dare to defy me," he hissed, his words dripping with contempt. "You would betray your own blood, your own family, for the sake of your misguided principles?"

She met his gaze head-on, her chin lifted defiantly despite the tremble in her limbs. "I will not betray my mother," she declared, her voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at her insides. "You speak of blood after years of declaring me and my brothers alike your sole distaste.”

Aemond's nostrils flared with barely contained rage at her words, his eye narrowing into a slit as he took a step closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. "Do not presume to lecture me on matters of blood," he seethed, his voice a low growl that reverberated through the chamber. "You may share the blood of House Targaryen, but you lack the fire that defines our lineage."

“Careful, Uncle,” she whispered, her voice tinged with fury, “I am as much Targaryen as you.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Aemond's features, his gaze faltering for a moment before hardening once more into a mask of disdain. "You may share the name, but you lack the strength and resolve to wield it," he sneered, his words like a lash that cut through the air between them. "You are nothing but a weak, insignificant girl who fancies herself a dragon."

Her jaw tightened at Aemond's cutting words, her resolve hardening as she refused to let his insults diminish her spirit. "Strength is not defined by the size of one's flames, Uncle," she retorted, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

Aemond's lip curled in a mixture of anger and begrudging admiration. Despite himself, he couldn't deny the fire that burned within her, the same fire that had characterised the Targaryen bloodline for generations. "You have spirit, I'll give you that," he conceded, his voice low and grudgingly impressed. "But spirit alone will not save you from the realities of this world."

She held his gaze, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she felt the tension between them crackle like lightning in the air. Despite their antagonistic exchange, there was an undeniable chemistry that simmered just beneath the surface, a primal attraction that neither of them could ignore.

As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Aemond took another step closer, his eye darkening with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "You may defy me, niece," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "But deep down, you know that we are bound together by more than just blood and duty."

She felt her throat close up, her body betraying what she wanted him to believe about her. That she recoiled at the mere sight of him. That she could not bear to be within the same quarters. That she hated him.

And all of it was a lie.

She would not have given herself so freely to him in that darkened alcove if she truly loathed him. And yet her pride marred the truth.

“You will be my wife,” Aemond stated, his voice devoid of negotiation. It was a command, wrapped in the certainty of his position, a reflection of the harsh realities of their lineage and the role they played in the ongoing struggle for power.

Her reaction was a mix of defiance and disbelief. This was not the offer of a partner, but the demand of a prince used to being obeyed. Yet, even as the words hung in the air between them, she could not ignore the complex web of emotions that tied her to this man. There was no love in this arrangement, but there was something else—something harder to define.

“You speak of marriage as though it were another battle to be won. I am not spoils of war to be claimed.”

Aemond’s eye, ever so piercing, momentarily hardened, hinting at the turmoil beneath his princely facade. His hand flew out, gripping her jaw as he had done that steamy evening, clutching her skin in his long fingers - a warning.

“Come with me, willingly or not. It is your choice, niece.”

Her eyes locked onto his with a fierceness that could rival any dragon's gaze, attempting to sear his very soul with her stare. Yet, in defiance of the forceful hand upon her jaw, she wrenched herself free, her breathing heavy with indignation. The so-called choice he presented felt like a cruel jest, highlighting the absence of any real agency she possessed.

The machinations of the Greens had cornered her into this union with Aemond, rendering any thought of escape futile from the outset.

Their wedding was a somber affair, marked more by the exchange of solemn vows and cold, resentful looks than any semblance of joy or union. Throughout the ceremony, her thoughts wandered, detached from the grim proceedings. And when the final blessings were about to be pronounced, she turned abruptly, her last vestiges of defiance carrying her away to the solitude of her quarters.

The sense of betrayal that churned within her was overwhelming, a treachery not only to her mother's cause but to herself. The disappointment her family would feel loomed over her, a burden more oppressive than the iron crown could ever be.

Moreover, the realisation that this marriage was orchestrated merely to secure an heir, to bind her bloodline to Aemond's as a political safeguard against total war, was revolting.

Standing alone, she tried to steady her trembling hands by focusing on the wine cup she held, just as Aemond's footsteps halted behind her. She braced herself for an encounter she dreaded, yet his next words took her by surprise.

“I shall bid you goodnight,” he said simply.

She spun around, half-expecting to confront a man prepared to enforce his will regardless of her consent. Instead, she met his gaze and found something unexpected—a reflection of restraint and perhaps a hint of understanding.

In that moment, a complex array of emotions coursed through her, challenging her perceptions and forcing her to acknowledge the intricate layers of their predicament.

“I will not lay with you tonight. You do not wish it.”

Her guard, so meticulously maintained, began to falter at the honesty in his words. "And what of tomorrow?" she asked, a tinge of cynicism threading her question. "When the sun rises, will your sense of duty not dictate our interactions?”

"It likely will," he conceded, the corners of his mouth turning down in a grimace. "But tonight, you've had enough battles to face. I won't add to them."

The silence that fell between them was filled with a tentative understanding, a fragile thread connecting two individuals caught in the crossfire of political machinations and familial obligations.

Yet, she was acutely aware that Aemond was not a mere bystander in the unfolding of these events. And it would be a mistake for him to assume she would quietly acquiesce to their circumstances.

Throughout the following day, Aemond's absence hung over her like a shadow, his presence felt more in his lack than in actuality. The dread of uncertainty twisted in her stomach, her mind conjuring scenarios that left her restless and wide-eyed, staring at the chamber doors until the early hours. The knowledge of her new status as his wife did nothing to ease her apprehension. It only highlighted her vulnerability, the potential for him to assert his marital rights in a way that robbed her of any semblance of control.

Yet, despite her fears, Aemond remained absent, his intentions opaque, leaving her to grapple with the anxiety of anticipation alone. The silence of the night was broken only by the distant, powerful beats of Vhagar's wings, a sound that resonated with ominous foreboding. She watched from her window as the great dragon, with Aemond upon her back, vanished into the stormy clouds that brooded overhead.

When Aemond returned to their chambers, it was not the composed prince who entered but a man storming in, soaked to the bone, his demeanor radiating tight, barely controlled anger. The storm outside mirrored his internal tempest, the rain that clung to him a testament to the chaos that seemed to follow in his wake.

His sudden appearance in the dead of night, the way he moved with a predatory grace, charged the air with a palpable tension. She could see in his expression the fracture of a man who had lost control, his ego bruised by the events that had transpired, a dangerous edge to his anger that made her heart race.

In that moment, the dynamics of their relationship stood on a knife's edge, the events of the night poised to define the course of their future interactions. It was a test of wills, a confrontation between power and vulnerability, where the choices they made could either bridge the gap between them or widen it into an insurmountable chasm.

"Aemond," she began, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to choke her words. "What has happened?"

He halted mid-pace, turning towards her. The flicker of the candles reflected off his wet face, casting shadows that made his expression all the more inscrutable. "The game has changed," he said through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

Her eyes traced his movements, every nerve alight.

“What game?” She dared to ask.

Aemond's gaze was steel, the kind that cut deeper than swords. "The game we're all pawns in—the game for the Iron Throne." His words were heavy, laden with a darkness that seemed to suck the warmth from the room.

“Aemond, tell me plainly. What have you done.”

Her voice was terse, but it trembled.

There was a hardness in his gaze, a glint of something fierce and unyielding.

"Luke," he finally uttered, his tone laden with a severity that chilled her to the bone.

In that instant, clarity and horror crashed over her like a wave. Luke was gone, his life extinguished in the brutal game of thrones that spared no one, not even the innocent. A gnawing question arose within her: Had her mother been informed, or was she, too, left in the dark until now?

The realisation that Aemond, now her husband, had been responsible for her brother's death sent a shiver of fear down her spine. The man standing before her, cloaked in shadows and rain, was no longer just the prince she had been bound to in a marriage of convenience. He was a killer, capable of extinguishing a life—a life she had cherished. Luke's laughter, his teasing smile, the memories they shared, all extinguished in a moment's violence. And if Luke, then why not her?

Aemond's demeanour shifted, perhaps sensing the change in her perception. "You fear me now," he stated, not a question but a flat acknowledgement.

She took a cautious step back, her mind racing. The man before her, powerful enough to command dragons and armies, had shown he did not shy away from kinslaying. "I believe I ought to" she countered, her voice a whisper of defiance.

He paused, and in that silence, the harsh reality of their situation seemed to settle around them like a cloak. As Aemond moved closer, intending to assert himself, she couldn't suppress the instinctual urge to retreat. The space between them, filled with the unsaid and the undone, seemed insurmountable.

She could not help the stark whimper that escaped her when his fingers formed a fist in her hair at the back of her head, pulling her unyielding face up to meet his, his angered breath spilling over her face.

“You believe I would harm you.”

How could she not? She thought. He had so often shown a calm, quiet anger. And unleashed it all within a short afternoon, with Luke's body somewhere at the bottom of the sea surrounding Storm’s End.

“You dare to question this when you have murdered my brother,” she spat back at him.

Jaw clenched, Aemond raised his other hand to his eye patch, quickly ripping it off to reveal to her what was beneath it. The angry red scar extended from his forehead to his cheek, jagged, clumsy. And where his eye would have been was raw, a bright sapphire sitting firmly within the socket, forboding.

Of course, she knew what Luke had done, but she had never seen him like this. Fear gripped at her skin, and a strange throbbing between her thighs at the way he looked over her like this. Thought she attempted to now show that on her face.

Her expression must have mirrored poor Luke's mere hours before, as her new husband gazed down at her, his demeanour terrifyingly calm.

“You defend your little bastard brother after how he has maimed me?”

“Aemond, please-” she pleaded, only moving away an inch before her husband tugged her back, tighter.

“Your brother was of no use to this realm. But you,” he spat, one hand tucking up her skirts and then meanly digging at her hips, “I need your sweet little cunt for my heirs, mandianna.”

She felt her mouth go dry, unable to say a thing. She whimpered again when he used his grip on her hair to turn her body around, keeping her back towards his chest, his fingers slipped along her jaw, as if to communicate that he could wrap them around her throat at any moment.

Aemond was sitting on a knife’s edge. And she dare not tilt him in any particular direction. Equally though, she dare not admit to herself that it was exciting in a most forbidden way.

“You are my wife,” he murmured quietly, sliding her small clothes down her thigh, flourishing with gooseflesh, “and who am I to deny her her duty?”

She suppressed a yelp when her hands lay flat on the table, her breasts pressed hard against the oak as she felt Aemond's rapidly growing harness at her backside where he was rucking up her skirts.

Though she tried to wriggle free of him, one hand at the nape of her neck with undeniable strength was all it took to remind her how much smaller she was than him. How difficult it would be to resist. Does she just go through with it? Let her Uncle, her brother's murderer, take her like a common whore whenever he wishes?

She could envisage no escape, and as ashamed as she was to admit it to herself, she could do nothing but submit. At least there would be some pleasure.

She jolted as his slender fingers parted her folds with a click of her essence coated his digits, dragging his touch from her opening to her overly-sensitive bud.

“See how wet you become for me still,” he murmured, pressing his chest against her back, broad body caging her in, “though I am the greatest sinner in the realm, your body still begs for it, sweet niece. What does that make you?”

“Kepus, please-”

“A traitor to your own kin?” He whispered, exhaling shakily when he nudged her legs apart an inch and slipped the fat head of his cock between her arousal-glistened folds, disappearing into her without effort.

Her lips parted, a quiet moan slipping past at being split onto his length. And though little time had passed since their first tryst, she still felt the sting and girth of him as if it were.

Aemond groaned deeply, at the feeling of her sucking him in so willingly, her walls greedily tightening around his length.

“Or loyal to your kinslaying husband?” He added huskily.

How was she to respond when the air was incessantly pushed right from her lungs at every snap of his hips? The table legs creaked against the floor and her breasts ached from being pressed down to the oak by the tight grip of his fingers around her nape.

She wanted to say that he was brutalising her, taking what he wanted with no care for her pleasure, but even that wouldn't be true. Aemond's rhythmic grunts came hot against her ear as he rutted into her, his hand kneading the flesh of her buttock in one hand, grasping tightly to allow himself deeper access to her.

She felt as if she was betraying herself, moaning the way she was. And Aemond certainly did not miss a thing.

“Stubborn little cunt - saying you don't want it but I can feel you begging for my seed -”

The mocking tone of his voice had her clench around him, humiliation clawing at her skin the more Aemond speared her onto his length in quick rhythmic movements. Her moisture coated his shaft, his pelvis painting the inside of her thighs with it in the heat of their passion.

Aemond looked down between them, his fingers leaving red marks on her buttock the more he gripped. Both hands drifted either side, pulling at her supple flesh to watch the way her cunt took him, his lips parted in appreciation of how he disappeared into her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling so boneless that she did not attempt to wiggle away when he was no longer holding her down. Instead her fingers curled over the table for stability in a desperate plea to ground herself from the hot, tight feeling building every time his cock hit her fleshy, wet end.

And just when she was getting used to the feeling, Aemond pulled her hips back to him, elevating her hips and slamming into her at an angle which brushed against that deep, sweet place inside her.

A tingly, warm sensation fluttered up her spine, “kepus-”

“-fucking say you want it-” he murmured between breaths, pulling her onto him quicker the close the became to completion.

She bit her lip, if anything, using the last bit of her power to not give him the satisfaction of thinking she did in fact want it. So she remained silent, which only made his thrusts more aggressive and assertive.

“-I’ll give you my seed, watch you grow fat with child - and just when you think it's over, I'll fuck another one into you-”

Her nails dug into the oak, scraping painfully, lips parted in a soundless scream as she felt that wave of warmth and bliss crest, unable to control the way she fluttered around him.

Aemond strained, words caught tightly in his throat as he spilled inside of her, pulling her hips flush to him as if to mold himself to her irreparably. She shamefully felt herself tremble, her release still sending dull shockwaves through her blood as Aemond remained seated firmly within her.

She thought of her family. And how they would come to hate her for what she had become, allowing the man who had killed her brother to take her like this. She surely thought they would no longer see her the same with Aemond's child in her belly and tied to him by marriage.

Tears threatened at her eyes, two feelings at war with one another, shame and pleasure.

She whimpered when Aemond pulled his softening cock from her, a rush of warm spend spilling down her thigh in a way that only exacerbated her humiliation.

“You will write to your mother and tell her of your loyalties.”

Aemond spoke so coldly in between soft pants, it was as if he was hardly the man she had known a few moments ago. It has always been like this. But in a way, it is what made him exciting. Unpredictability was as much exhilarating as it was terrifying.

A notion she held to as she glanced at him, his good eye hooded and blown wide and black with lust and the sapphire glinting in the orange glow of the room as if bloodthirsty.

The game had to be played. And if this was the way Aemond wanted to do it, then so be it.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

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autistichalsin · 3 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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mydearlybeloathed · 10 months

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𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: following their fellow hero’s death, the remaining seven have to face their decade long feud at the grave.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heroes of olympus x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

masterlist

The last thing any of them wanted was to go to the funeral. It wasn’t that they didn’t care; to say that would be the biggest lie any of them would say. No, they didn’t want to show up because the grief they felt was too great. Y/N shouldn’t have died, not when each of them had unsaid words to say to her.

Yet each demigod sucked up their sadness, dressed as nice as they could, and made their way back to Camp Halfblood, where Y/N was to be honored that evening.

It’d been seven years since the Second Giant War, and five years since any of them had met face to face (the exception was Percy and Annabeth, who'd gotten married just before the seven’s falling out). The great heroes of Olympus were nothing but a campfire tale at this point.

Jason was the first to arrive. Silently he stood at her grave, his throat burning with the floodgate of tears he held back. Years ago, when he’d first arrived at Camp Halfblood with no memory of his old life, he found Y/N sitting here with a book.

He’d learned very quickly that it wasn’t smart to disturb her when she was reading…

Under the shade of the big oak tree sat a girl, all alone save for an open book. While the other campers hung out with their siblings and friends, playing varying games and sports, she seemed perfectly content under her tree.

He wasn’t trying to be a creep, but Jason couldn’t help but watch her from afar. He’d seen her in action during last week's capture the flag game. Y/N had scared the shit out of him when she’d come running at him with a sword; Looking back on it, Jason swore he saw death in her eyes.

So when Jason found the angry warrior girl who’d almost skinned him alive trying to get his team's flag looking so peaceful with her nose in a book, he became curious of her.

Annabeth was quick to warn him against going up to her. After he insisted on getting to know her, she grinned and said, “Fine, it’s your death wish.”

It turned out that she was right.

“Umm, hi. You’re Y/N, right?” Jason asked when he was standing in front of her. She wasn’t quick to look up from her book, an eyebrow raised as she sized him up.

“Yeah,” she said, unenthused. “And you are?”

“Jason Grace.”

“Ah. Son of Zeus. I’ve heard about you,” she said, her eyes drifting back to her book for a moment. “Is there something you need?”

The boy scratched at his neck, trying to look casual and not terribly awkward. “Not really. I just remembered you from the game last Friday. You almost maimed me.”

A small grin pulled at the girl’s face, but still, she seemed eager for him to leave her alone. “That was you? Heh, sorry. I’m a tad bit competitive.”

He was about to compliment her sword skills when the grin fell from her face and she looked back to her book. “Listen, you seem nice, but I’m kinda busy in case you can’t tell. Please leave me alone. Thanks.”

And that was the end of that conversation. The next time he held a conversation with her was after his quest to free Juno. She was certainly more kind when she wasn’t in the middle of reading, that was for sure.

The more he got to know her, the more he appreciated her love of books. On more than one occasion some random fact from a seemingly irrelevant fantasy novel saved their asses.

Sighing deeply, Jason rested a blue flower that he’d picked earlier on top of her headstone. He sat down in front of it, finally allowing himself to cry over the loss of his dear friend.

Next was Percy and Annabeth.

Hand in hand, they approached the site. It was on the edge of camp, on a hillside that looked over the cabins. It was surrounded by trees, and Y/N’s favorite flowers were planted all around.

Annabeth stopped at the treeline, her eyes landing on the headstone, and the blond boy kneeling next to it with his head in his hands. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to cry, that she’d cried enough, that crying wouldn’t change the fact that she was gone.

But then, the burning in her throat grew all so worse. Her Hand flew to her mouth, and she choked on a sob. Percy turned, her stationary figure tugging him back. Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes widening upon seeing the two standing there.

He wiped at his face, but his bloodshot eyes gave away that he’d been crying too. The silence was thick, mixing with the surrounding humidity, making the air difficult to breathe.

It’d been some time since they’d crossed paths. “Hey.”

Percy nodded. “Hey.”

Another sob choked Annabeth as she ducked her chin. “Oh, shut up! We’re awful people.”

Jason and Percy turned to her, shocked by her outburst as tears trailed down her cheeks. “What?”

“Every last one of us,” she cried. “She was the only one who tried to keep everyone friends, who could stand to be the voice of reason! And we all... we all abandoned her just because of a stupid argument!”

Before anyone could respond, the wind picked up, blowing their hair all around. Jason looked up, and his throat went dry at the sight of a giant bronze dragon lowering form the sky.

Leo and Piper appeared on its back, both solemn and silent as the dragon landed and they slid to the ground. Piper locked eyes with him, and she nodded without a word.

Annabeth just turned around, wiping furiously at her face. Meanwhile, Leo stared gaping at the grave, as though he hadn’t really expected it to be there. “She’s...”

“Yeah,” Jason snapped. “Yeah. She’s gone.”

Piper shot him a nasty glare as Leo recoiled into himself. “Back off.”

“Listen, I’m just--”

“You’re just not. Okay? Shut the hell up.”

The daughter of Athena whirled around and pointed form Piper to Jason, silencing them in an instant. “We are not bringing this here, to her grave.”

No one dared to bite back. Percy rubbed circles into her shoulders, hoping it helped.

Next thing any of them knew, another figure appeared, closely followed by another. Frank and Hazel, walking at least seven feet apart from each other in awkward silence.

Hazel’s eyes made it to the headstone, and she lost all her breath. Her knees started to give out, and Leo was the only one who thought to run to steady her against him. She buried her head in his shoulder, though not a tear fell. Something about the redness in her eyes said she’d run out of tears.

Annabeth felt a burn of anger rise up wihtin her, and with her hands fisted at her sides, she began again in a broken voice, “We can barely look at each other! We... We left her alone, after all she did for us. She died alone.”

Frank let out a shaky breath, his eyes on the ground. “Annabeth... what were we--”

“What were we supposed to do?” she spat back. Her hands were shaking. “Anything. She was a fucking daughter of Eris. The goddess of strife. She was the only one who tried to get everyone to fucking get along!”

Ten years ago, the eight Heroes of Olympus had gathered at Percy and Annabeth’s wedding. Frank and Hazel were newly separated, Piper and Jason too, and no one was really over how Leo didn’t hurry to come back after Calypso revived him.

It was,

“I bet you loved her attention! Was her head enough to make you forget us?”

“I had died!”

And,

“We were tricked into liking each other by Hera!”

“I loved you, Piper!”

Then,

“Why couldn’t we make it work? Why?”

“You know why!”

And finally,

“Stop fighting at our damn wedding!”

And in the middle of it all, there was Y/N. She stood between everyone, hands raised warily, as she tried to make everyone apologize. It didn’t work. She always blamed herself too; Eris kids only ever make things worse.

Nobody had had a kind word for another of the eight since then. After a while, Y/N stopped reaching out. She stopped trying to get everyone to meet up. She stopped attempting an intervention. She gave up.

And now she’s dead. Killed by a minotaur.

Percy felt it was payback.

In the thick silence, only broken by Annabeth’s heavy breathing and the occasional sniffle, nobody dared to say a word.

Until... “I...” Piper sighed. “I spoke to her. A week ago. She... she tried to get me to call Jason. I refused.”

She closed her eyes, embarassed and ashamed, but then Jason looked up, eyes wide. “She called me too. Asked me to talk to you.”

Leo began to tap his chest with one hand and wipe his face with the other. “Me too. She called me to call Jason and Frank.”

“She wanted me to call Hazel.”

“And me to call Frank.”

Every one of them had refused.

Annabeth just stared at Y/N’s grave, Percy mirroring her, their hands finding each others. “She wanted us to get everyone together, at camp... today. Oh, gods.”

Piper’s eyes widened like saucers. “You don’t think she...” She couldn’t finish.

“I don’t know,” said Percy, eyes unfocused. “I don’t know.”

Hazel shook her head frantically. “She wouldn’t. She was killed by a minotaur!”

Another silence took a hold of them and wouldn’t let go. One by one, each of them haunted by what ifs and worries, one by one they came to sit around the headstone.

Not another tear was shed. Hazel took the blue flowers all around and made anxious little flower crowns, passing them around the circle like some sort of machine, until Leo grabbed her hands and made her stop when everyone had a flower crown, a necklace, and a bracelet to don.

From across their little circle, Jason looked at Piper, finding her eyes already on him. He shivered, and she pursed her lips. He broke the silence first. “It was Hera... I shouldn’t have felt I had a right to tell you how to feel.”

Piper shook her head. “I shouldn’t have assumed we meant nothing to you.”

“Guys,” Leo blurted, plucking petals off his crown. “I... I should have rushed back to ya’ll the moment I could... but I was scared. I didn’t know if ya’ll would want me back.”

Hazel gaped at him. “Why wouldn’t we want you back, Leo?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was the eighth wheel, you know? I didn’t think I mattered to anyone.”

Percy cracked the stick in his hand. “You mattered the world to us... to Y/N.”

Frank nodded. “She was beside herself when you died. I’d never seen anyone so... so...”

“Hopeless,” Hazel finished, locking eyes with him before she quickly looked away. Something in Frank’s chest squeezed.

Leo’s eyes went somewhere behind them all, as if he’d never even played with the idea that he could mean so much to someone. None of them doubted, in that instant, that that was true, and suddenly they wondered for the first time if Leo was as all right as he appeared.

The sun continued its journey across the sky, now hiding behind the trees to offer the group some shade.

Out of the shadows, literally, came Nico and consequently, Will. Annabeth was the first to notice their new matching wedding bands, putting a light smile on her face.

For a moment, all the pair did was stand there, staring at the grave, not saying a word, before Nico tugged on Will’s hand and they were gone nearly as soon as they’d appeared. Everyone pretended not to hear how Nico broke the moment he turned his back.

Some time later, Chiron trotted up the hill, greeted each of them, and lade a laurel wreath on Y/N’s headstone.

Grover and Juniper came up soon after, but they too could only stand to look at the grave for so long before they turned back.

The seven remained, as though intending upon a vigil, in silence. Perhaps to honor her. Perhaps because no one knew what to say. One thing was clear, though, if nothing else: they were done fighting.

“I...” Percy spoke up, sniffling. “We...”

Annabeth took his hand. “Do you guys wanna come for dinner one day?”

She was afraid no one would answer, but almost immediatley Piper leaped at a reply. “Where’s your place?”

“Not far,” said Percy. “Still in Long Island.”

he squeezed Annabeth’s hand, shooting her a teasing look. She only grinned back. “And... well, uhm. We never got to tell any of you... thought it was always too soon--”

“What? What is it?” Leo demanded, on the edge of his grassy seat.

Annabeth and Percy locked eyes in a silent gleeful exchange, before Percy said, “We’re parents.”

Not a jaw was still shut.

“Dude,” Piper gasped. “What--Oh my gods.”

Hazel clapped her hands, a smile to bright that Frank buffered a moment. Leo pointed a thumb at the married couple and said, “Oh, you better bet we’re coming for dinner. Gotta meet tiny Jackson-Chase.”

Laughter bubbled up from the circle, and suddenly, the conversation wasn’t so muddled with bitter memories. Plans were made, silent apologizes given, and hope spread around.

It’d been just five hours since they’d first arrived, yet it felt as if a whole decade was occured. The decade they wasted.

So as each of them stood (Hazel offered Frank her hand, and he gladly took it, towering over her like he always had. Leo and Jason shook hands, before the latter pulled the former into a rib cracking hug. Annabeth wiped at her face, locking eyes with Piper, and threw herself into her arms.) they tried not to dwell in the simmering past.

It was the least they could do for Y/N, who believed they could forgive, even in her last days.

Which is why, hidden in the trees, shrouded by a cloud of mist, tears streaked down a young woman’s cheeks. Her lip trembling and her heart sang at the sight. Perhaps a child fo Eris didn’t have to ruin everything.

She wanted to run, to jump out of the trees before it was too late, to hug them at long last, but the grip on her shoulder made every attempt send shooting pains up her spine.

“It seems,” said Y/N’s mother. “You were right about them, my sweet.”

Y/N glared up at Eris, taking in a deep breath to calm herself. “Please. You’ve had your fun. Your hypothesis was wrong.”

The disapointment all over Eris’ face only made Y/N’s impatience grow. “I’m... surprised. I thought nothing could bring them together again.”

“You don’t give them enough credit,” said Y/N, a small smile gracing her face as she turned back to the seven.

“Or,” said Eris, brows raised. “I didn’t give you enough credit. Certainly, as my favorite daughter I thought for sure your death would only drive them further apart...”

Y/N didn’t like the calculated look on her mother’s face, like Eris was wondering what had gone wrong, and she tugged at her hold on her shoulder despite the pain it brought. “Let me go?

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll be hostile when they see you deceived them?”

The daughter shrugged. “A little bit. But after I explain that you forced me into faking my death for the sake of testing them, I’m sure all their anger will find a much better outlet.”

With a scant smile, Eris ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Good. Now run along. They shouldn't grieve any longer than they have to.”

So she did, sprinting into the clearing without much thinking, not even blinking at the unsheathed weapons that followed her swift appearance.

Breathing heavily, Y/N’s eyes scanned over her friends, still blinking away tears, as one by one their guards fell crashing down. She waved a little. “Hi.”

Hazel broke first, her weapon falling to the grass as she bolted at Y/N, nearly taking them both down with the power behind her hug. The rest didn’t take long to follow, wrapping their arms around you in a stuffy yet welcome group embrace.

“But... how?”

She could only look toward the forest, glaringly so. “Turns out I’m my mother’s disappointment.”

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funeral-grayy · 1 year

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What the fuck did you think you were doing? Parading around his penthouse in what you’ve considered a dress. You, Natsuo’s cute little best friend. You’d been following him around like a little lost puppy all night, clinging to his arm. You had no idea what you were doing to the man watching you so intently, how often he had to excuse himself so he could go adjust his hard cock in his slacks. It was one of the rare occasions his son attended one of these fancy hero parties and of course he had to bring you. Enji made it in his best interest to avoid the family house when he knew his eldest was around because that meant you were as well. You, the off-limits best friend. You were nearly half his age and all he ever wanted to do when he saw you was bury his cock so far into you, you’d feel it in your stomach. God, he’d even dreamt of you from time to time. He was so caught up in his dirty thoughts, when he looked up, you were gone and Natsou was conversing with a hero.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed and needing some time to yourself, you excuse yourself from Natsou’s side and start to wander around the penthouse. This was wildly different from their family home. Everything was crisp and clean, nothing out of place. You knew you were probably straying a bit too far from the party but your curiosity was getting the best of you. Most of the doors in the hallway were shut, with one at the very end of the hall being the exception. You looked over your shoulder quickly, eyes scanning the hallway but thankfully you were alone. You’d never been able to figure Endeavor out. Always so cold and short towards his family and fans, always so stoic. You quietly slipped past the open door and into what seemed to be his office. You trace your fingers along the smooth surface of his large oak desk, halting at an open, overturned book. The spine was old and worn, the title not familiar to you. Picking it up, you turn to lean against the desk and leaf through the pages.

“Are you lost?” A deep voice interrupted your snooping. You set the book back down on his desk and turned back around to face him. Ignoring the questioning look he was giving you, you dragged your gaze ever so slowly down his body. Fuck, you bit your lip as you took in how fucking big Endeavour was. He towered over you, and you were pretty sure he’d easily crush you if he wanted to. Your gaze continued down, over his ridiculously big pecks, god you wanted to squeeze them. You could tell that just one of his thighs was as big as both of yours put together. You could feel saliva fill your mouth, as your gaze flickered over his crotch. He was probably huge, there’s no way he wasn’t. Finally, after taking your time to check him out, you looked back up at him, a sweet smile on your face. The corner of his lip twitched as he refrained from smirking, this girl had some major balls, blatantly checking him out like that, he thought.

“No, I don’t believe I am. Just got a little side tracked is all.” Nosy was more like but you weren’t about to admit to snooping around his office. You’d only even been to the Todoroki family home, which he seemed to avoid most of the time. So of course his office piqued your curiosity. The interior design was very old fashioned and rustic. Everything smelt rich. You weren’t sure why you were being so feisty towards this man. Maybe because he wasn’t like the usual young men you went after. Maybe it was because if he really wanted to, he could snap you in fucking half and you’d thank him. This man was nothing but pure fucking muscle and you wanted to climb him like a goddamn tree.

Enji fought against the primal urge to pick you up and lay you out over his desk. Oh no, first he was going to have some fun and play around with you. You might be his son’s best friend but as far as he was concerned, you were free game while in his own home. He watched you as he took a step back, shutting his office door behind him and locking it. No one would be interrupting him. He removed the suit jacket he’d been wearing and tossed it in the black leather couch to his right. He began to roll up his white dress shirt sleeves as he approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. You knew you were playing with fire but by god did you want to be burned. You were transfixed with how good his forearms looked, now that both sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

“Has my son’s best friend always been such a dirty fucking slut?” His deep voice shook you to your very core, your cunt clenching around nothing. You had slipped out of your heels and was now perched on the edge of his desk. Raising one leg towards him, your foot gently stroked his obvious hardened length through his slacks.

“Has my best friend's dad always gotten a hard-on over women half his age?” You asked innocently, tilting your head to the side. He wrapped one of his hands around your ankle, easily moving it to the side while he placed himself between your parted legs now. The bottom half of your dress eased up your thighs and bunched around your waist as you opened your legs wider to accommodate his size. He immediately invaded your space, pressing his hard body into yours. One of his large hands reached up and grasped your throat, causing you to gasp in surprise.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” He squeezed the sides of your throat, not too hard but hard enough to restrict your breathing. Your eyes glazed over with lust as you held his stare.

“Why don’t you let me put it to good use?” You have no idea where this confidence and boldness was coming from, maybe the two glasses of champagne in your system or maybe you just weren’t afraid of this man like everyone else was. All you knew is that you wanted him and you would have him. The hand that was around your throat moved up to grasp your chin, his other finger coming up to press two fingers to your closed lips. You opened your mouth willingly, taking two thick fingers inside and sucking them. Drool dribbled down your chin as he pushed them deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them. He groaned at the realization that your gag reflex was nearly nonexistent. He swiftly removed his fingers, wanting to get this show on the road before his son noticed you gone.

“On your knees then, sweetheart.” He took a step back, allowing you to hop down from the desk. Your movement was almost instant, getting off the desk and dropping to your knees in front of the big man. You looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, the look going straight to his cock. One of his hands stroked your cheek almost in adoration but you knew better than that. “Such a well behaved girl, I might have to keep you after all.”

Your mouth watered as he began to undo his belt, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He chuckled as you lurched forward to assist him with undoing his pants, clearly very eager to have his cock in your mouth. He watched as your eyes widened and you audibly swallowed at the size of his bulge in his black boxer briefs. You hadn’t even pulled them down yet and you could already tell he was far bigger than anyone you’d been with but it was the thickness of him that scared you. Scared you but also aroused you, you could feel yourself growing wetter. Reaching forward, you gently traced the head of his cock, watching as it twitched. You continued to slowly tease him through his underwear, content with all his little reactions. Growing impatient, Endeavor slid his boxer briefs down his thick thighs, his cock springing free. Your first thought was how pretty his cock was. The head was an angry red and glistening with pre cum, more gushing from the tip and slowly dripping down his length.

Without further thought, you leaned forward and licked a long strip from the base all the way to the tip, humming as you gathered his pre on your tongue. You smiled up at the man who was having a tough time keeping it together, seeing him in such a weak vulnerable state was such a treat. You were used to the hardened shell of Endeavor, not this man before you trying to stifle his groans. Not wanting to tease him any longer, you immediately took him in your mouth. The strangled moan spurred you on. You lick and suck up and down his length, your tongue tracing the long vein up his shaft. You become a drooling mess very quickly, you're barely able to get most of him in your mouth. The hold on the back of your head tightened as he watched his cock disappear into your throat over and over again.

“What would Natsou say if he could see you now? His little best friend sucking his fathers cock.”

He gathered your hair in one hand and caressed your cheek with the other. It was so hard to resist just picking you up and fucking you senseless but he knew he didn’t have the luxury of time tonight, so this would have to do for now. He watched as tears streaked down your cheeks, god, how could someone be so beautiful like this? He wanted to ruin you, absolutely destroy you. Without much more thought, he held your hair tight and took over, fucking into your warm mouth. He could feel himself get harder, if that was even possible, as you took him deeper into your throat. Your jaw ached as you accommodated to his size, the lack of a gag reflux a blessing right now. You moaned as the tip hit the back of your throat and stilled, more tears running down your cheeks.

“Such a good fucking girl. Think you can handle me?”

Your words were gargled around his cock, more drool now dripping down onto the floor below.

“Oh sweetie, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

His words were condescending but god did they do something to you. The man above you grunted as he started to fuck your mouth, the feeling of your warm mouth welcoming him in. Your nails dug into his thighs as he picked up speed, the ache in your jaw worsening. How he was able to stuff himself down your throat was beyond you but you knew you wouldn’t be talking much after. You slurped and kicked around his length as he continued his brutal pace. Curse words flowed out of him as he mercilessly pounded into your mouth. He could feel his balls start to tighten as his impending orgasm approached. He knows he should feel embarrassed for cumming so fast but god, your mouth felt like heaven.

“Gunna cum all over this pretty face. Mark you as mine.”

He pulled out of your mouth and quickly jerked himself off, your spit and his pre covering him. You watched in awe at how his face contorted into pure bliss as spurts of his hot cum coated your face. He gave himself a few more tugs, wiping his cum covered dick head along your lip. God, he wanted to take a picture of you. Your face was completely covered in his seed, dripping down onto the floor. Reaching behind you, he grabbed some tissues and began to clean up your face. You were shocked with his gentle touch and softened features. It didn’t last long though, as if a flip switched he went back to his full height and stared down at you.

“Meet me back here at the end of the party.”

It wasn’t a question but a demand. The confused look on your face made him break composure and chuckle.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, did you?”

#enji x reader #enji todoroki x reader #enji todoroki #endeavor x reader #endeavor #bnha #my hero academia #yeeeeeesh #daddy enji #idk how i feel about this tbh #lowkey bad af #oop

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wheres-mylove · 26 days

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francesca | aemond targaryen x fem!baratheon!reader

Summary: Aemond battles duty and desire, torn between his brother's schemes and his own longing for Lady Baratheon. Inspired by Hozier's Francesca.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 0.6k

Aegon Targaryen was a man accustomed to having his desires fulfilled.

A master of getting what he wanted, he seized pleasure and delights for himself. What he didn't want, he also received. Always granted the privileges of a firstborn son. The vision of a crown he didn't deserve.

He didn't deserve the wife he took either, simply because he could. Because it pleased him to spite his brother. That fool only took. Took and gave nothing in return.

Aemond Targaryen was second in line to the throne. Second in line to make demands.

Second, second, second.

Lady Baratheon glided toward him, escorted by her father. The sept was silent, all attention focused on the radiant bride. And for a fleeting moment, Aemond could draw a breath and imagine that she belonged to him. That this wedding was not a farce.

She gave him a look that nearly knocked him off his feet. A mixture of adoration, hope, and timidity. He had to ground himself. Reality crashed upon him with cruel force. He felt like a pawn in a game he never wanted to play. It wasn't his day. It wasn't his ceremony. She was not his to claim, not his to cherish.

Aemond had been cruel before, but now he had really outdone himself.

“We should have Storm's End on our side. When the time comes, we will need every strength we can gather,” Otto Hightower declared, clasping his hands on the table. “Borris is a proud, stupid man. He'll agree if he imagines his daughter by the side of the future king.”

Alicent cast a uncertain glance at Aegon, who lounged on one of the chairs, seeming entirely disinterested in the whole situation.

“I thought the arrangements made for Helaena to be his wife were still valid.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Otto rebuked her sharply. “We must open ourselves to alliances from the outside.”

“Which one will I get?” the prince suddenly asked, as if struck by a certain thought.

“If the Baratheons have anything to offer, it's daughters. Whichever one you want.”

A grave, grave mistake.

Aemond barely heard the words of the ceremony. His heart hurt. A heart he should have gotten rid of before stepping into this building. She was so beautiful. He imagined her reaction when she entered the marital chambers. She wouldn't find the man she was marrying at the altar there. She would find Aegon.

Aemond is a proxy. A safeguard. So Lady Baratheon won't flee.

Aegon's back collided with the oak doors. But the impact failed to erase the smug grin etched upon his face. His brother's fiery gaze bore into him.

“Maybe I do love her? And I can't imagine any other by my side?” Aegon asked in a sing-song voice, not moving from the spot Aemond had shoved him into.

Aemond's patience wore thin, his voice a low growl of frustration.

“Stop it. You don't give a shit at all. This is just another game to you. And she won't agree to marry you. Not after how you treated her the last time she was here.”

Aegon's smirk widened, a gleam of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Oh, I know that. That's precisely why we need your help, dear brother. Our intended bride happens to hold you in high regard. And as for me, well, weddings aren't exactly my cup of wine. The feasts afterward? Absolutely. But the ceremony itself? Not my scene.”

Prince's tone turned ominous as he issued his ultimatum, a veiled threat hanging in the air.

“Refuse to assist, and I'll see to it that this marriage never takes place.”

Aemond felt the weight of obligation pressing down upon him, a heavy burden he could not easily shake off. They needed this alliance, and he was bound by duty to serve the case.

But now, oh now, now he felt something else. The stirring of rebellion.

He will claim her for himself. His lady born of tempest and fury.

How would she fear any hurricane when she embodied one?

And as for Prince Aemond, he had always been captivated by storms.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond targaryen imagine

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aboxofcereales · 6 months

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I’m slowly working on a piece of paper about changes in Wyll’s character between early access and game release, but I don’t really know when I’m going to finish it, in the process I’m more and more fascinated by potential story of Wyll’s parentage and their own story. Although mostly this is purely headcanon, but may I suggest the following:

There are few things we learn about Wyll’s mother during the game.

After stumbling upon Arabella in Shadow-Cursed Lands, a following dialogue may happen: “You've talked about your father, but not your mother. Why's that?” “Because there's nothing to tell. She died when I was born. As a boy, my bond with father was too deep to miss the mother I never had. Now, well - I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about my mother. What life would've been like if she'd lived.”

During romance scene in Act 3, Wyll says: “My mother always said the Wilden Oak's acorns held just a touch of wishing magic.”

There are two weapons, belonging to Ulder Ravengard, which describe some details about Wyll’s parents - Duke Ravengard's Longsword (can be found on Ravengard himself) and Ravengard's Scourger (can be found at High Security Vault 5 in The Counting House): Longsword: “Cradling his newborn son awkwardly, the Duke's face pulled into a rictus of misery. His love Francesca smiled at him, briefly, and died. He stared at her until the boy cried, and he told the boy it would be all right, though he himself did not believe it.” Scourger: “Duke Ravengard's father was the sort of man who works with his hands, and communicates in grunts. In his heart his son vowed to do better. But when Wyll was born, Ravengard felt a strange gravity that drew him away from his son.”

To sum up, what we learn in-game is that Wyll’s mother was named Francesca, she died giving birth to Wyll, Ulder loved her and their son, and tried his best to raise Wyll well.

Ulder’s parenting style deserve its own piece, but I think its obvious that he cares for Wyll deeply, though often failed to show it, acted to strictly, to righteously. Ultimately, it fall down on Ulder character, the “Murder in Baldur’s Gate” describes him as following: “Blaze (Major) Ulder Ravengard is the incarnation of militarism. The only beauty he appreciates is precision, and the only quality he values is utility. He believes that personal ornamentation other than military insignia is a waste. A meticulous man, he forgets nothing and forgives less. Ravengard has never married and has no interest in domestic matters. Someone might consider him handsome, if not for his constant scowl and many scars.

Blaze Ravengard is Marshal Abdel Adrian’s right hand man. He is both the second Highest ranking officer in the flaming fist and the warden of Wyrm’s rock. Ravengard’s soliders do not love him. They do respect his leadership, however, and pay for it with their obedience, which is exactly how Ravengard prefers things.

Naturally stolid and terse, Ravengard is slow to speak and make decisions in any arena expect the battlefield. Once he decides on a course of action, Ravengard is relentless in it’s pursuit. He believes the Flaming Fist is the Gate’s backbone and the key to the city’s strength.

With the Death of Marshal Abdel Adrian Ravengard has risen to the Rank of Marshal of the Flaming Fists.”

What’s interesting, its noted that Ulder Ravengard was never married, and the longsword description calls Francesca Ulder’s love, not bride or wife. This more then likely mean that Wyll was born out of wedlock, as Wyll is about 16-17 during the death of Abdel Adrian.

When talking with Counseller Florrick, when Wyll is reveled to be Ravengard’s son, he says “The circumstance of my birth is no matter of pride for neither me nor my father.” This may refer to Wyll’s birth leading to his mother’s death or the fact that Wyll’s technically was born a bastard. In the latter case, Wyll’s mom might as well have been a worker at Sharess' Caress, with whom Ulder could have had a one night stand, but its specifically stated that Francesca was loved by Ulder, and of what I read about the Grabd Duke he seems to be the man who would marry her out of duty and responsibility of getting her pregnant. So there should be another reason behind it.

There’s this banter between Shadowheart and romanced-Wyll:

“Someone of your social stature, Wyll, are they typically allowed to pursue their heart whims as they like?” “I don't have to ask for permission if that's what you mean.” “Really? I'm surprised, I thought dowries, alliances and old blue blood feuds might have to be balanced against your desires.” “I'm my own man, Shadowheart, in this sense at least.”

Wyll’s a hopeless romantic, who wishes for a happily ever after with her one true love, and Ulder apparently never minded the potential social status, despite him and Wyll being a high-ranking member of society.

Of course, Ulder’s marital status and Wyll existing can be explained by the fact that Wyll being Grad Duke Ulder Ravengard’s son was a part of the character rewrite. It was datamined before that originally was supposed to be a great-grandson of Duke Eltan, the founder of the Flaming Fist and a Grand Duke of the city of Baldur's Gate in the 1300s DR. And the bits of this storyline are still presented in the game: Fist Art Cullagh with his original writ of duty, signed by Eltan himself, pre-final part of Wyll quest taking place in the Iron Throne, where Eltan nearly assassinated.

Currently, House Eltan, the descendants of Duke Eltan, is one of the noble patriar families. The Forgotten Realms wiki states that: “The family held partial financial ownership of the Flaming Fist mercenary company. At one point however, they were forced to sell their interest to help pay significant debts they had incurred.”. Which I believe corelates with what EA!Wyll spoke of his father (the man saw any shining bauble he liked and took it, and my hand were ever so stinky or smt along those line).

So, what if Wyll is still Elatn’s great-grandson through hid mother? What if somewhere along 1460s DR Francesca Eltan, a granddaughter of a once Grand Duke of the city and a member of patriar family, met Ulder Ravengard, a son of a poor blacksmith and a mercenary of The Flaming Fist, steadily ascending through its ranks? What if Franceesca taught the stern and disciplined Ulder to dance, read to him her favorite stories and poems under the Wilden Oak, made him on other things then duty and order? What is if their time together resulted in Francesca getting pregnant with Wyll? What her family did not approve of the union due to Ulder being merely a mercenary, who hailed from the Lower City, or they wished to marry her off to someone who could aid with the family’s financial problems? What if Francesca ran away, hoping that the birth of a grandchild could convince her family to attend their wedding afterwards? What if Wyll’s love of dancing and dreaming came from the mother he never knew?

#baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #wyll ravengard #ulder ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll bg3 #wyll #in my mind ea!Wyll and gr!Wyll are the same person #just one was take in by the Eltans #and another was raised by his father #I just wish the game provided more contents for Wyll #and Ulder for that matter #there is so much more the could’ve done #gods

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 month

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Do you have any games that involve urban fantasy with less focus on fighting than something like Dresden or Shadowrun?

THEME: Urban Fantasy (Minimal Fighting)

Hello there! What I've got here is quite a mix, I wasn't sure how much violence you wanted (or didn't want) so I have a little bit of romance, a little bit of nostalgia, and a little bit of horror!

City of Mist, by Son of Oak Games.

City of Mist is a role-playing game of film-noir investigation and super-powered action. It is set in a modern metropolis rife with crime, conspiracies, and mysteries. The protagonists are Rifts, ordinary people who became the living embodiment of a legend, their Mythos. While your Rifts may seek to strike a balance between the mysterious nature of their Mythos and their mortal aspirations, the powers within them always threaten to tear their lives apart. They have unwittingly become a part of a secret world of clashing stories, and soon other legends will come looking for them with demands.

City of Mist is a combination of PbtA and FATE, giving your characters descriptive tags to use for both their benefit and their detriment as they go about solving mysteries in a supernaturally-saturated city. The primary theme of the game is mystery, and thus more than anything your characters will be primed for investigation. That’s not to say that there isn’t violence - but violence and fighting can be de-emphasized if the group is more interested in the mystery side of things.

Character Creation involves a combination of mundane and supernatural themes, as your character is endeavouring to strike a balance with the parts of themselves that they recognize (student, parent, office worker, ex-partner) and the parts of themselves that are hard to understand (mythical beast, deity, folktale, urban legend). What’s important to define is your daily routine, your personality, and what kind of supernatural powers you have.

This game isn’t explicitly anti-violent, but it absolutely provides you with ways to solve problems that aren’t violent, so I think City of Mist is worth checking out.

Scary Monsters & Nice Sprites, by Pammu.

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites is a narrative RPG about spending your night in one of the only clubs in your city that’s safe for creatures of the night like yourself. All you want to do is have some fun just like the humans do. Play a supernatural creature of choice, put some sick EDM on the speakers and get your game on!

This game works best for an even number of players, up to 6, and is GM-less. It combines urban monsters with flirting, dark clubs and hookups. Each of your characters will look for a partner by doing things that will appeal to the other players. If they like what you do, they’ll reward you with tokens, which you can spend to improve the atmosphere of the club. Fill another player’s intimacy meter, you’ve won them over, and the two of you decide how the night ends for both of your characters.

If you want a game about flirting and the magic of a nightclub, this is your game.

The Far Roofs, by Jenna Katerin Moran.

The Far Roofs is an original role playing system and bundled campaign using pens or pencils, paper, six-sided dice, ten-sided dice, playing cards, and a bag of letter tiles. It's complete in one volume: with this one book and the equipment above, you'll have everything you need to play.

As the story progresses, your characters will gain access to over 150 unique, narrative-focused powers developed and refined over the course of a decade for the Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG before being simplified and adapted for use herein.

The Far Roofs is still being Kickstarted, but Moran’s work on Chuubo’s Wish-Granting Engine produced a game that emphasizes wonder and emotional experience. The Far Roofs looks to deliver along the same lines, and the examples of play point towards investigation, social interaction, and magic powers. Jenna Moran is also known for her unique and evocative storytelling in her work, so I think it’s definitely worth checking out.

Lighthearted, by Kurt & Kate Potts.

Welcome to the magical 80s dream world of Lighthearted. You are a Prep, Jock, Geek, Rebel, or Outcast, like those kids in The Breakfast Club, except you are just about to start magic community college. Through play, we'll explore how you grow out of your high school cliques all while dealing with magical mishaps, college parties, vampires, and worse—finals!

Lighthearted is a complete tabletop roleplaying game that uses the language of film and television to reimagine the coming of age stories popular in 80s teen movies like Weird Science and Sixteen Candles, but with a modern fantasy spin. It's set in an alternate 1980s with fantasy elements weaved into the most outlandish bits of 80’s pop culture. There are fantasy religions mixed in with mall culture, dark magic cold wars, and magical glamours instead of plastic surgery.

This is a game of magic and coming-of-age, as you play first-year students at a magical community college. You’re off to the big city, and the big world - will you survive your first college party? Your first vampire?

The whole game feels like the neon lights of a vibrant night-life combined with the nostalgia of an 80’s film. Your magic is attached to how you feel, so as your emotions change, so will your effectiveness at certain actions. If you want a game that’s as light as its name, and you are seeking out rosy-tinted nostalgia, this might be your game.

Changeling: the Lost, by Onyx Path.

Once upon a time, they took you from your home. They promised you a place at their side, and meaning in your life, and they surrounded you with beautiful things. But the beautiful things were oh so sharp, and they laughed when you bled.

Day by day, they changed you. But day by day, your will grew stronger. On the last day, you smashed your way through the beautiful things and ran, not noticing as you bled or feeling as you cried.

You fought with courage and cleverness and took yourself home. Now the beauty and the horror are yours, to have and to hold and to live.

Welcome to once upon right fucking now.

So I’m familiar only with the 1st edition of Changeling, but as far as I understand, the setting and core premise of the game is the same in the 2nd edition. Changeling: the Lost is a game of fairy trauma. Your characters are survivors of a fae horrorscape, a place both wondrous and terrifying all at once. This game is solidly in the horror genre, but it contains within it a taste of the magical, and it’s also the reason I got into roleplaying in the first place.

As in many Chronicles of Darkness games, fighting is an option in here, but it’s not a wise option. Getting into fights pulls at your characters’ ability to understand the difference between our world and the world of Fae, it’s very easy to sustain supernatural damage that is hard to heal, and, well, sometimes it’s hard to tell who your real enemies are in the first place.

I’d say that Changeling is more of a political game than anything else. Your characters will have to dance through the highly literal wording of faerie pledges, and untangle difficult relationships between Courts that are both safe havens and potential beds of sedition. This is a violent game, but much of the violence possible in Changeling isn’t physical - it's emotional.

This Night On The Rooftops, by C.M. Ruebsaat.

This is a game about gazing out over the smokestacks after dark, with the wind in your hair and a friend at your side and a thousand lights of progress on the streets below.

This Night on the Rooftops is a collaborative storytelling game for 2-5 players about friendship, growing up, and revolution. You will play members of a gang of children in The City, a fantastic world of industry and dying magic, where witches labour alongside factory-workers to make ends meet.

This game looks slightly less modern, but it takes the fantasy aspect of witchcraft and places it inside an industrial city. The game uses a modified version of the No Dice No Masters rule set, which is excellent for stories that have an ebb and flow to them, managed through the use of token expenditure. This game is also GM-less, giving everyone at the table the same amount of control over what happens next.

Since the characters are a gang of teenage witches looking to make ends meet, this game doesn’t strike me as one that prioritizes fighting or violence. The city looks big enough to grind up the characters if they’re not careful, so they’ll likely have to find solutions to problems that don’t get them (or their dependants) in trouble. If the game is like other No Dice No Masters games that I’m familiar with, the group will also have a big say over which elements of the city are the most intriguing to them.

Partners: The Urban Fantasy File, by Tin Star Games.

Some murders are just elf defence…

Vampires are real, magic is real, elves are real - and murder is still very very real. This expansion takes you and your Partner down the moonlit streets of urban fantasy, where the dead sometimes get back up again but crime is still a mystery needing two heads to solve.

The base game for this, Partners, is a two-player mystery-solving game about a pair of detectives, a straight-shooter and a wildcard. You’ll need the base rules to play, but this supplement brings in dead elves, suspicious vampires, and other common characters in any urban fantasy genre. It can work as a one-shot, or as a series of episodes. If you want a game that's primarily about solving a mystery more than anything else, this is is for you.

Solacebound, by Sascha Moore.

Young monsters played at the boundary between the worlds. They slipped and stranded in a human city. Isolated and unwelcome, they search for each others help and a way back.

Solacebound is a GM-less Game for 3-5 people to play over a few hours. Search a sprawling, oppressive city for your friends, find out who is willing to give you a roof, bash back against authorities, cook together and console each other. Will you find a way back home before all passages close?

You are teenage monsters trying to find their way through an urban environment, in a place that is hostile to them. You survive by hiding out, finding each-other, and do things together to make sure you keep each-other healthy. Cards from a deck act as resources, but also as an oracle to help you describe the fallout of any given action, and the emotions that are attached to it. This is a game about metaphors, about what it is like to live in a place that fears you, so I definitely recommend making sure the entire table knows what this is about before starting a game.

You Might Also Want to Check Out

Subway Runners, by Gem Room Games.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #urban fantasy

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sugolara · 1 year

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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

Feat. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

A series. Book One

cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, updates thursday/sunday, slow burn, cross-posted on ao3, wattpad, qoutev

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge.

Inspired by, ''The Walking Dead''

(ongoing)

playlist!

" Space Junk - Wang Chung " Wolf - First Aid Kit " Into The Black - Chromatics " My Life In Rewind - Eagulls " Hush - Trills " Bad Before Good - Dayone " Run Boy Run - Woodkid " You're So Cool - Jonathan Bree " So Bored - Gorgeous Bully " Operations - Duster " Blue Light - Mazzy Star " Civilian - Wye Oak " Can't Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers " Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N' Roses " Skyfall - Adele " Struggling Man - Emily Kinney (original: Jimmy Cliff) " The Last Pale Light In The West - Ben Nichols " Up The Wolves - The Mountain Goats " Blackbird Song - Lee DeWyze " Be Gone Dull Cage - Kiev " Into Dust - Mazzy Star " Warm Shadow - Fink " Tomorrow Is a Long Time - Bob Dylan " Poison Tree - Grouper " Rhymes Of An Hour - Mazzy Star " You Are The Wilderness - Voxhaul Broadcast " Running - Delta Spirit " People, Turn around - Delta Spirit " The Lion's Roar - First Aid Kit " Pain - Boy Harsher " The Setup - Favored Nations " The Old Death - Ben Nichols " Revolution - Red Shahan " The Man Who Sold The World - Nirvana " Beautiful Mess - Balian " The Day The World Went Away - Nine Inch Nails " Mr. Splitfoot - Paris Motel " Empty Words - Bowery Electric " No Longer Making Time - Slowdive " Step Away from the Cliff - Blue-Eyed Son " Paradise - Silverberg " Take Care (To Comb Your Hair) - Ty Segall " Glad I Had a Friend - Galt MacDermot " Machine Gun - Portishead " Shadows of Planes - Duster " No Peace at All - Aldous Harding " Save Us from Ourselves - Digital Daggers " I'm No Heroine - Emily Wells " Salt in the Wound - Delta Spirit " It's All Right - Sam Cooke " To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra " 6 Underground - Sneaker Pimps " Edge Of The World - Dayshell " Bye Bye Bye - School of Seven Bells " Arsonist Lullaby - Hozier " It's All Over - Johnny Cash " The Stars Just Blink For Us - Say Hi " Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division " Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Guns N' Roses " Runnin' Down a Dream - Tom Petty " Fly Like An Eagle - Steve Miller Band " You Are Not Alone - Mavis Staples " Welcome - Harmonia & Eno ‘76’ " Hope We Can Again - Nine Inch Nails " outside - Oneheart " sleepless - Odyzon " Alesund - Sun Kil Moon " Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd " Don Abandons Alice - John Murphy " Wicked Game - Chris Isaak " Rule of Rose OST - Playing Airship " 1908 - Repulsive " I Shall Cross This River - The Black Atlantic " Easy Way Out - Low Roar

table of contents:

Season 1: Episode 1: Begin Episode 2: Not alone Episode 3: Gone but not forgotten Episode 4: You belong in this world Episode 5: Because all life is precious Episode 6: Musutafu, we'll meet again Episode 7: Izuku: I'd always thought there be more time

Season 2: Episode 8: During these two weeks Episode 9: Diopside, like your eyes Episode 10: For the first time in a long time Episode 11: Almost complete Episode 12: Determined to survive, stay alive Episode 13: Fear Episode 14: Katsuki: You are going to beat this world

Season 3: Episode 15: Away with you Episode 16: Three months ago Episode 17: Slowly withering away Episode 18: Don't die, not yet Episode 19: How long before I’m alone Episode 20: Nothing else to lose Episode 21: Shoto: Everything you would be will be gone

Season 4: Episode 22: Trouble Episode 23: For however long that'll be Episode 24: Searching Episode 25: The fallen city Episode 26: Stay who you are Episode 27: All together Episode 28: F/n: With you beside me

Season 5: Episode 29: Here Episode 30: Cruel Episode 31: Too loud Episode 32: Back on road Episode 33: All is lost Episode 34: Safe in your arms Episode 35: And so it begins Episode 36: At stake Episode 37: Sorry or whatever Episode 38: Familiar eyes

Season 6: Episode 39: A relief Episode 40: Upcoming trouble Episode 41: Never to easy Episode 42: To good for death Episode 43: Old memories Episode 44: A stroke of luck Episode 45: Be aware Episode 46: Bait Episode 47: A thump in my heart Episode 48: Belong to me Episode 49: One step closer (Towards you)

Season 7: Episode 50: Sorston Episode 51: Tenderness Episode 52: Here to stay Episode 53: The start Episode 54: Crushed Episode 55: Reporting to duty Episode 56: Good morning and goodbye Episode 57: An end to sorrow, grief & regret Episode 58: On the move Episode 59: Confirmation Episode 60: The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

Season 8: Episode 61: Not who you were Episode 62: Just you and me Episode 63: The Plaza Episode 64: The other side Episode 65: To be ready

to be continued...

Book two: To The One You Left Behind

taglist: @mikeyswifie @k0z3me @sky-angel101 @stevenknightmarc @nahwajinswhore @mn-0p @a-helen113 @azrral @mary-jinx @chixkadee @flowers-4-you

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honeybeefae · 2 years

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Cauldron Fated (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY SIX: MATING BOND

Summary// You considered Eris to be somewhat of a friend, having grown up alongside him in court and being there for him on the scarce times he confided in you. It just felt natural, and as you got older, it started to develop into a crush. He always held you at arm's length though, never dancing with you or joining you on morning rides, which left you with no choice but to move on. But when your engagement is announced at a ball a week later, Eris has a big problem with it…which leads to the discovery of something bigger than both of you.

(If I had the time I would have loved to expand this to a two-part series or longer, it has so much potential. This fic is 6711 WORDS. I am shocked and I really, really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. Enjoy <3 )

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, mutual pining, angst, repressed feelings, jealousy, mating bond, friends to enemies to lovers, soft meaningful sex

Being born into the Autumn Court as a high fae was a punishment worse than death. The constant backstabbing of court members, the unrelenting criticism from your parents on how you needed to be better than the next person, and the wicked games everyone played were enough for you to want to run as far away as possible. Every waking moment of your life was full of fake smiles and feelings to try and pacify the ones in charge.

But for you to grow a crush on one of the most dangerous men in the Vanserra family? To lie awake at night fantasizing about life between the two of you? It was like adding poison to the never-healing wound.

And yet here you sat, lying underneath a great oak while the leaves fell around you while reading some silly romance and picturing Eris rescuing you from a tower. It was pathetic, and you knew in your heart after many years of him keeping you at arm's length, that there was nothing between the two of you.

You had grown up with him, chased him around the castle as kids and taken lessons together as teens. Both of your mothers were close, and so were you, or so you thought. As the years passed and his mother had more children, Eris grew more cold and distant.

If you did see him, it was only in hallway passings or the occasional dinners and dances. Even then he would turn you down, not even meeting your eyes as you would bow your head and go off with your other friends while trying not to look back.

Sometimes he would talk to you for a minute, though it looked painful for him, and every time he did it would rekindle that dying flame in your soul. You had never yearned for someone like this. And as the hopeless damsel in your book swooned over the prince who had just picked her for a dance, you realized you were no better off than her.

“Is it good?” A low voice said above you, snapping you out of your daydream and making you jump in surprise. Your head turned sharply, eyes widening when you saw Eris leaning against the tree you were tucked away in with a smirk on his face.

“E-Eris!” You exclaimed, pushing up to your feet immediately to address him properly. He watched as you bowed ever so gracefully, head tilted down, before rising back up to meet his eyes. “What are you doing out here?”

“I needed to talk a walk.” He explained while looking up at the sky, mouth downturned. “Fathers can be rather irritating, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded in understanding, your hands fisting the sides of your dress. Everyone knew how Beron treated his sons and his wife. He had no qualms in hiding his distaste for them and you always felt bad when one of them got publicly beaten or humiliated, especially if it was Eris. Your father wasn’t half as bad as Beron but he was still overbearing and demanding perfection, never taking your opinion into consideration.

It was the price you paid for being a member of the court.

“I’m sorry he’s being a pain.” You say sincerely. Eris’s eyes turned back to you, some unknown emotion flashing through them before fading away. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Ha.” He scoffed, looking you up and down in amusement. “Thank you for the laugh, Y/N. I needed that.”

“What? You don’t think I could take on the old man?” You grinned, taking a playful fighting stance as you used to as a child. “If I remember correctly, I beat you plenty of times so I think I could handle it.”

It was silly, acting like this in front of him and being a fully grown adult, but it was rare that Eris sought you out for company and you wanted to make the most of it. If anything, at least get him to smile. That was all you wanted.

“Oh yes, you are very fearsome indeed.” He smiled, his body relaxing for the first time in months. You saw the change and couldn’t stop the butterflies that blossomed in your belly, especially when he licked his lips and shook his head at your juvenile actions. “The entire Autumn Court would quiver under your feet.”

“I’m glad we see eye to eye. Just imagine it, standing on the-” You said while raising your foot proudly, not noticing the large root directly in front of you. It caught the toe of your shoe and you fell forward, cutting off your sentences as the ground rushed toward you.

You braced for the fall but it never came, two strong arms catching you before you could smash your face into the cold earth. The force of your descent sent the both of you tumbling and Eris groaned when his back hit the ground, his breath catching in his throat.

The air went still around you as you realized your circumstances, your body pressed against his own as he watched you with uncertainty and worry. Both of you were sharing the same breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears, and you could have sworn he leaned forward slightly into your touch.

But when the sound of footsteps approaching hit his ears, he pushed you off without so much of a warning. You cursed softly as a tree branch scraped against your cheek, rushing to stand and brush yourself off without so much as a hand offered from Eris.

“Eris? Are you out here?” Someone called, peeking over the ledge above you. It was one of his younger brothers. He saw the two of you and smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something, brother?”

“Hardly. She wasn’t watching where she was going and ran into me.” Eris responded, his tone now cold as ice. “What do you want?”

His brother didn’t look entirely convinced but didn’t push the subject, moving his gaze from you to his brother. “Father is looking for you, or rather sending us to look for you.”

“I’m coming. Tell him I apologize for losing track of time.” Eris growled, barely looking back at you as he started to climb the stairs.

“I just am hurt you didn’t share the name of your new lover, Eris. I thought we were closer than that.” His brother taunted, leering at you which made your skin crawl. The situation had gone from the moment of your dreams to a nightmare in a matter of seconds and the sting of Eris’s dismissal was making it worse.

“Please.” Eris scowled, removing a leaf from his hair and looking down at you. “She holds no interest of mine any more than the peasant woman in the streets.”

It felt like he had just stabbed you and twisted the knife to get as deep as possible, his eyes full of cruelty. His brother laughed as they walked back towards their home while you sunk to the floor, hot tears burning your cheeks.

How could you be so, so careless with your feelings? Why on earth did you keep this candle of hope alive for someone like him, someone who obviously couldn’t stand the thought of you?

It was a harsh reality check and you felt like your entire body had been dipped in ice water. The trees rustled around you in a song you didn’t want to hear, burying your head in your arms as you pulled your knees to your chest. After all this time, all the two of you had been through. You had finally reached your breaking point.

Eris Vanserra was not the man you thought he was. He had grown to be like his father, a comparison you never thought you would make. It was time to grow up and leave childish dreams behind, and that started with him.

You wiped your eyes and nose on your sleeve, the book from earlier lying on the ground. It was open to the page where they get married, sealing their love with true love’s kiss, and in a fit of anger, you grabbed it and chucked it into the woods.

There was no such thing as happily ever afters in your world.

It had been a week since the incident with Eris and although it was getting better, you still found yourself moping around late at night. Time would heal the wound but as your mother stood behind you, styling your hair to perfection, you hoped tonight would speed it up.

“Oh, my darling, I am so glad you agreed so readily to Cadoc. When he approached your father I was sure you would have your doubts but,” She sighed happily, looking at you in the mirror proudly. “You knew what to do…for the family.”

“Of course, mother.” You responded almost robotically, the fake smile you have perfected over the years gracing your face easily. “I would do anything for our family.”

She turned you around and patted your cheek before gathering her things and leaving, calling over her shoulder to be ready to leave soon. As soon as the door shut you let out the breath you had been holding and walked to the large mirror, taking in your attire for the night.

The dress fit you perfectly as did the accessories, making you feel like royalty. It wasn’t every day that you got engaged so you might as well enjoy how you looked. Your parents had orchestrated a grand dinner to be held in the great hall of the Forest House to celebrate. An invitation was sent out to every single member of the court.

Of course, that meant the Vanserras were attending but you didn’t want to focus on that. Eris was in your past, worth no more than a speck of dirt on the giant emerald ring that rested on your finger from your fiance.

And if you were being honest, you could do far worse than Cadoc. He was an affluent member of the court, his father owned quite a bit of farmland, and most importantly you had never heard of him laying a hand on a woman. It was a low bar to be set but you would take him over someone like Aagun who proudly boasted of the bruises he would leave on his wife.

Someone knocked on your door and you took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and following your mother down the steps and into the hallway where your betrothed was waiting for you.

As you drew closer to the doors, you felt fear bubble into your gut, the weight of the situation dawning on you. You were about to walk into your engagement party, with a man you barely knew, and then in a month's time, you were to be wed. This was what you had been raised for, to be a wife and mother, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that what was happening was wrong.

Like you were going against fate itself.

But when Cadoc rounded the corner, his own parents flanking his sides, you knew you could not say anything. It would put your family at risk to deny such an advantageous marriage and embarrass them in front of everyone. You had to do this.

He stopped in front of you, his green eyes dull but soft, and lifted your hand to kiss. You smiled politely as you had so many times before, trying not to compare the way his touch felt to Eris’s. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” He complimented, not letting go of your hand as you both turned to face the doors that were about to open.

“Thank you, Cadoc. You look as handsome as ever.” You replied, the words tasting foul in your mouth. He gave you another reassuring smile just as the large, oak doors opened to reveal the two of you.

The sound of applause echoed around you as you let him lead you into the great hall, everyone’s faces blurring together as the lights shone too bright. You could feel the air get harder to breathe but you did your best to control it, smiling brightly as you finally arrived at your table.

“Thank you.” You murmured as he held out the chair for you, making sure you were comfortable before taking the seat beside you. Both of your families took their respective places and the feast began, music starting up from somewhere in the corner of the room.

You didn’t even wait for the server to finish pouring your glass before you all but snatched it and downed it one gulp. If you were going to get through this, you needed to be at least a little buzzed. Your mother shot you a glare and you apologized, placing the glass back down and turning your attention to the decorations.

It was beautifully decorated, all the colors of fall present with touches of gold. The candles were all lit, including the giant chandelier above your head, and it made the entire room glow like embers. You noticed how well dressed everyone was as well, though you were the only one in cream, and couldn’t help but think back to when you would attend these parties as a teenager. How you would think the bride-to-be was feeling, the excitement of wanting to be in her seat.

And the irony that now you sat, staring at the table of children, and envying their innocence.

A flash of red hair caught the corner of your eye and before you could stop yourself, you were now fully facing Eris. He was sitting at his family’s table, in the front of course, with a dark scowl on his face. All of the emotions you had been shoving down were threatening to rise to the surface, the memory of his wicked words bouncing around your brain.

So, with all the grace of the woman you were raised to be, you drew your lips into a tight line and turned away to face your fiance. Cadoc immediately turned to you and you took the opportunity to lean forward and give him a chaste kiss on his lips.

He seemed shocked at your boldness but fixed his face before anyone noticed, returning your kiss with his own. You could feel the eyes of everyone on you and you decided you needed another drink, the food now being served giving you an excuse to drink as many glasses as you wanted.

As the night went on you could feel your body relax, though the same couldn’t be said for your thoughts. You were having to consciously stop yourself from seeking out Eris and every time you stumbled, he was always glaring at you or Cadoc. It was starting to get on your nerves but before you could get too heated, or do something stupid, your fiance decided it was time to dance.

All the lessons you took as a child paid off well when it came to your ability to dance. The music made your soul feel light as you twirled in his arms, following his lead and smiling at the clapping of everyone watching. You were surprised at how well Cadoc danced, both of your bodies easily falling into line, and you started to think that perhaps your earlier concerns were just pre-engagement jitters.

That or the wine had really gone to your head.

As the song came to a close and you began to bow to him, you gasped as he pulled you into his body and kissed you deeply. You had no choice but to kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as your friends and other members of the court cheered you on.

Cadoc finally pulled back and blushed, letting you take a step back as another song began. “I’m sorry about that, Y/N. I got caught up in the moment.” He apologized, scratching the back of his head. You knew he meant it and although the kiss didn’t feel right at all, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“It’s fine, Cadoc. I promise. Shall we have another dance?” You asked, motioning to the other people who had joined the dance floor. He let out a sigh of relief and nodded, reaching for your hand only to grunt when he was not so gently pushed out of the way.

“Excuse me-” He began to say before you both looked up and saw who had done it. Eris was staring at him as one might stare at a sworn enemy, his eyes full of fury as he raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt?” Eris asked, already knowing the answer. You could feel the arrogance rolling off of him as he stared down Cadoc. “It truly was not my intention to break up such a happy couple.”

“What do you want, Eris?” You snapped, making them both turn to you in surprise. Cadoc looked worried, knowing you could easily be beaten for talking to him like that, while Eris seemed…hurt?

“I came to ask for a dance, if your fiance doesn’t mind.” He replies, barely glancing at Cadoc. When he went to answer you cut him off, the wine in your belly making it harder to control your emotions.

“If he doesn’t, I do.” You grabbed Cadoc’s hand and began to lead him away only to hiss when you were pulled back roughly.

Eris was fuming, his nostrils flared, and you met his rage with your own. He had no right to try and dance with you after what he had said. You knew he was doing this to get a rise out of you, to make you relive his words, and you were kicking yourself for not realizing just how cruel he had become.

Before the two of you could start an argument, you felt Cadoc let go of your hand. “It is no trouble, my lord. I was going to visit anyways.” He reassured while backing away, giving you a look that said ‘don’t do anything stupid’, and disappearing into the crowd.

A throat cleared in front of you and you let out a huff of frustration, facing Eris once more. He motioned to the group of dancers and you rolled your eyes, following his lead into the swarm.

The music was loud and dominating, much like the man before you, as he twirled you into his arms. You could feel his muscles underneath the flimsy silk of his shirt as you both battled for the lead. It reminded you of your dance lessons as children, neither one of you wanting to give an inch.

“Still a stubborn dancer, I see.” He said, smirking at the scowl on your face.

“I just don’t have the right partner.” You retorted, your skirts gliding between the both of you as the music began to pick up. “It’s why I am so glad to have Cadoc.”

Eris’s jaw ticked at the mention of his name, his hands tightening around your own as you spun around once more. When he pulled you back into his arms, he made sure you felt every inch of him, his head dipping down to your neck sensually. It almost made your knees give out, cursing your body on its weakness before you shoved away from him and went back into the proper stance.

“Don’t do that. Not here, not ever.” You warned him, trying to keep your voice low so as not to alert anyone around you. The last thing you wanted was for a rumor to start before your marriage could even get off the ground. “Do not act like you have a claim to me.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” His voice was teasing, his words making your head fuzzy. You couldn’t figure out what game he was trying to play, why all of a sudden he was acting like this of all places. “I thought you wanted me, my attention.”

And as the music reached a crescendo, both of you gliding through the mass of bodies, you realized what was happening. Eris was jealous. He knew your feelings, had known all along, and yet he only cared when you had moved on.

With the wine, the music, and the realization of just how fucked up this situation was, you couldn’t hold in your anger any longer. You pulled away from him forcefully, glaring at him with all the hatred you could muster. He looked taken aback by your show of emotions and you had to resist the urge to smack him across the face.

“Do not ever come near me again, Eris Vanserra.” You seethed, fists curling at your side as everyone continued to dance around you. “I hate you.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, turning sharply on your heel and storming past everyone and out the doors. Some people turned to look at you, whispering to each other, but you could care less. You needed to get away from everything.

The hallway was cool and dark as you started to run to your room, your heels clicking against the floor. You had to lift your skirts in order not to trip, not daring to look back in fear that he was chasing you. When you reached the staircase that led to your floor you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall.

Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes and threatening to ruin your makeup but you were powerless to stop them. You placed a hand over your heart as you tried to process what had just happened, knowing people were going to start looking for you soon. All you had to do was make it to your room.

Just as you went to peek around the corner to see if anyone had come out yet, a warm hand slapped over your mouth and drug you backward and into the darkness.

After a moment you felt your feet hit solid ground and the hand release you. You wasted no time in raising your fist and swinging at your kidnapper, your eyes widening when your hand was caught by Eris. He glared at you, your fist inches away from his face, and pushed your hand back down to your side.

“Where are we?” You asked loudly, taking multiple steps backward as you surveyed the room. He went to cover your mouth again to hush you but you shoved him with all your strength, not wanting any part of him to touch you. “I swear on the Mother if you try to touch me-”

“Will you be quiet?” Eris hissed, thinly veiled anger lacing his words as he glanced toward the door. “They are sure to be looking for you and unless you have an explanation for the dramatic exit you just made, I would think you should be thanking me for rescuing you.”

If there were ever a moment that steam could come from your ears, it would be now. Your vision turned red at the edges as you laughed in disbelief.

“Thanking you? Have you gone mad, or is that your ego grew so much that your brain got squished?” You raged, the fire that lay deep within your bones making its way to the surface. “None of this would have happened if you would have stayed far, far away from me. You have no right to pretend that all of a sudden I am everything you desire now that I have moved on from you.”

Eris took a threatening step towards you, making your back hit the cool wall behind you as he stared you down. “Is that then? You’ve moved on because some boy gave you a pretty ring and promised you the moon and the stars?” He asked snarkily, tilting his head as your eyebrows scrunched together at his implication. “Do I mean nothing to you?”

You swallowed the burning lump in your throat and raised your head up high, your heart breaking as you said, “No more than the peasant down the street, Eris Vanserra.” The words were not what you felt, not at all, but after everything he had put you through you were not about to give in to him when he realized what he wanted too late. This was caused by his actions, not yours.

He stood there and you watched the words sink in, your soul crying out as you saw true pain in his eyes. You were no better, your hands shaking as you pushed past him and made your way to the door.

“Y/N,” Eris called painfully, grabbing your hand before you could touch the handle.

You knew you should have snatched your hand back, should have opened the door, and never looked back, but you couldn’t. There was something in his voice, a desperation, that pulled a string in your heart you didn’t know existed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face him, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Don’t leave me.” He pleaded, sinking down to his knees in front of you. It was a sight you weren’t prepared for, to see the heir of the Autumn Court begging for you, and it made your eyes widen in disbelief. “I can’t lose you. I know what I have done, what I have said, cannot be taken back. I know that.”

Eris looked down at your hands, at how different they were, and took another steadying breath. “I thought I was protecting you. I did not want to subject you to the horrors of what my life is like, what my family is like, and so I did my best to keep you away.”

“I wanted to keep you safe but when I saw you with him, dancing and kissing like you had known him your whole life, I couldn’t stop myself.” You could hear the pain in his voice as he pressed on, looking up at you once more. “I acted out of spite. I thought I could endure it for you but I can’t, not with you not knowing the truth first.”

As he rose up, you let go of his hands, your brain trying to understand everything he just said. Eris had treated you like this to protect you from him and his family, wanting to keep you safe from what being with him would surely entail. It was a huge revelation and while your soul sang for the joy of the situation, you had one question that needed to be answered.

“You don’t hate me?” You whispered, your voice wavering in fear that this was all a dream.

He cupped your face in both hands, wiping away the stray tear that had escaped, and said earnestly, “I have loved you for my entire life, Y/N. My feelings for you have never waned nor faded, it is a love that the Cauldron destined and I have been the most ignorant fool to run from it for so long.”

As soon as he stopped speaking, you felt that same string from earlier tug you closer. It felt so real that it made you look down in confusion, wondering what it was. When you looked back up, Eris had an entirely different emotion in his eyes.

Hope.

“Can you feel it too?” You asked incredulously, the old stories of fated mates shimmering in your mind. It was considered a fairytale by most with how rare it was. Even you brushed it off as fantasy.

Eris nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I’ve felt it for a while, though I refused to believe it. I couldn’t understand what I did to deserve you as a mate.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your height, pressing your foreheads together intimately. Unlike with Cadoc, this felt entirely right. For the first time in years, your heart was content as he pulled you closer to his body.

“My mate,” You breathed, staring at him through your eyelashes as he gazed at you adoringly. “I cannot think of anyone more deserving of love than you.”

He closed his eyes, letting your words cleanse his body and give him the peace he needed. The room was quiet and warm as you held each other, sharing the same breath as you both basked in the radiance of finding your other half.

And when he brushed his nose against yours, you smiled and followed his lead into the kiss you had been dreaming of for years. His lips worked against yours slowly, savoring the taste and feel of your skin as your fingers threaded into his long, auburn hair.

With great care, he guided you backward until you fell onto his bed. You let out a soft laugh, smiling up at him and admiring the twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t shone since you were kids. He placed both of his arms beside your head and bent down to kiss you again, his hair creating a curtain around the two of you.

Your heart was doing cartwheels in your chest as you took a leap and deepened the kiss, licking his bottom lip shyly to see if he wanted more. Eris immediately opened his mouth for you, letting his tongue slide against your own as you moaned prettily underneath him.

The need you had for him to touch you, to claim you, was growing by the second, and if the tent in his pants told you anything, it was that he felt the same way. You gasped when his teeth caught your lip and tugged, a feeling akin to a branding iron filling your belly at the action.

“I want more.” You whispered, your chest rising quickly in small breaths. “Touch me, Eris, please.”

“Oh, how I’ve dreamt of you saying those words.” Eris purred, brushing a stray hair out of your face tenderly. “But I need you to understand what that means. If we go further, you will be mine, body and soul, no one else’s. Do you want that?”

You nodded and rose up to your elbows, making sure he held your gaze. “I’ve never wanted anything more. It’s always been you.”

Eris looked for any sign of doubt in your eyes but found none. He stood up straight and offered his hand, watching you take it without hesitation. “Then let me bed you properly.”

He pulled you to stand with him and turned you towards the giant hearth, the fire dancing for you as he began to undo the laces of your dress. Every graze of his fingers against your skin made you shiver in anticipation. You raised your arms and undid the pins in your hair and took out the jewels, letting your hair fall naturally.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N.” He murmured against your skin, tugging the sleeves down until your back and shoulders were bare to him. Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed up to the nape of your neck, his hands holding your hips as he undid the final lace. “Every inch of you.”

Your dress started to fall off of your body, and you didn’t stop it, the material pooling at your feet as Eris took a step back to admire you. The urge to cover yourself was strong, but he spun you around before you could even think about it, his eyes full of desire.

His hands were itching to touch you, to feel how soft your breasts were in his hands, but he maintained control. Tonight was about you. “Never in my life have I seen anything so bewitching.”

A blush rose to your cheeks at all the praise he was giving you, making your insecurities float away with the wind. You took a deep breath and reached behind you, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He bit the inside of his cheek as you followed with your panties, watching him as you slid them off to join the rest of your clothes.

“I believe it is my turn, my lord.” You tease, sounding more breathless than you would have liked. Eris smirked and opened his arms for you to start, his eyes never leaving your body as you began to strip him down.

It was hard to put into words how intimate this was. You had dreamed of doing this with him, spent many sleepless nights touching yourself to the very idea, but as you stood here, you were nervous. So many questions on if he would like what he saw, and what you did, were swarming around your mind.

Eris must have sensed your uncertainty because as you went to remove his pants, he stopped you, fingers tight on your wrist. “We can stop at any time, Y/N.”

“I know, I just,” You faltered, memorizing every scar and freckle on his chest before looking up at him. “I’m nervous it won’t be what you want. I won’t be what you want.”

He sighed and placed a finger under your chin. “I can see I need to do a better job at making up for my previous statements.” He pointed out, lifting you without warning and carrying you to the bed.

You started to protest, but he shushed you, kissing you lightly before letting his lips go lower and lower on your body. Every kiss felt like fire, your hips arching slightly when he arrived at your breasts. He wasted no time in lavishing them with attention, sucking and licking your nipples until they stood at attention.

“Oooh.” You moaned, a wave of arousal making your sex slick as he took in your every reaction. The entire time he was toying with your body he was praising you as well, telling you how wonderful you were and how you were everything he wanted.

As he moved on from your breasts, your stomach began to flutter in excitement. He nestled himself between your thighs and spread you open without warning, groaning as the smell of your arousal and the sight of your gleaming cunt made him feral.

“Do not take your eyes off me, do you understand?” He told you, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could eat you out properly. “I want you to watch as I make you cum.”

The words were filthy but made a tingle go down your spine, nodding in understanding. Eris smirked and then began his feast on you, immediately going for your clit. It was a pleasure that had you crying out his name already, your hips bucking against his face as he sucked it into his mouth and hummed to increase your heat.

“Oh my gods!” You moaned as he switched from your clit to your hole, licking up every drop of nectar he could. “Eris…”

“You taste fucking divine, Y/N.” He growled into your pussy, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs. His cock was aching to be free, to rut into you and spill his seed so that everyone knew you were his. Just the thought made him move one hand to shove down his pants so he could fist himself.

Your ears perked up as you heard him getting himself off, the visual making you even wetter as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth. He was going to make you cum soon, faster than anyone else had. You started to let out little moans and whines as you ground against his face, wanting this to last forever but also wanting to cum.

“Are you about to cum, mouse?” Eris taunted, his balls tightening as you cried out a small “yes!” He went back to your clit and flicked it over and over again, making the tip of his tongue just hot enough to send you spiraling into the best orgasm of his life.

“Eris!” You squealed, soaking his face as you threw your head back into the pillows from bliss. He burned the image into his memory as you reached up and started to pinch your nipples to prolong your pleasure, riding out the euphoria until you couldn’t handle the stimulation.

He sauntered up your body like a fox, kissing you forcefully so that you could taste yourself on his tongue. You met his passion with what strength you had left, grasping his face with both hands.

“Please, Y/N,” Eris panted into your mouth, kicking his pants the rest of the way off before rubbing himself across your slit. “I need you.”

“Take me, make me yours.” You commanded, spreading your legs further.

Eris looked down so he could watch himself sink inside you, the warmth and tightness of your cunt already making him want to bust. You groaned loudly at the stretch, grasping onto his upper arms as he continued until he bottomed out inside you.

Both of you were drunk on each other, the mating bond making everything feel ten times more intense as he pulled back out and slammed back in. The headboard rocked behind you, but neither of you cared. If anything it spurred you on.

“You feel, ah!” You whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as he lifted your hips with both of his hands to give himself a new angle. “Fuck me, Eris…”

He growled as your hands fell back to the bed, grasping at the sheets so hard he was sure you were going to rip them. The way your tits bounced as he fucked you was hypnotic, the firelight illuminating your sweat-slickened skin making you look like a goddess.

“All mine.” He swore, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he felt the first tingles of his orgasm in the base of his spine. “Forever.”

You nodded fervently, feeling another orgasm sneaking up as you watched him in awe. His muscles were rippling with each thrust, his hair stuck to the sides of his face, but what had you most fascinated were his eyes.

They were staring directly at you, pupils blown wide, and they were full of utter devotion. It showed you a man who would do anything for you, who would love you always.

And as you watched him throw his own head back in ecstasy, his throat bobbing as he began to fill you up, you knew you felt the exact same way. He was your mate, and you were his.

“Forever.” You repeated before chanting his name, your walls squeezing him unbearably tight as you came on his thick cock. The feeling of his hot cum made you crave more, clawing at his chest until he bent down so you could kiss him intensely.

Eris intertwined your hands together as he began to slow down, looking over when he felt cool metal on one of your fingers. It was your engagement ring. You were still coming down from your own high as he took it off and, without a word, threw it into the fire behind him.

“My mate.” He proclaimed into your neck, closing his eyes as he rejoiced in the words. You were his forever.

#acotar kinktober #kinktober #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x reader acotar #eris smut #eris x reader smut #eris x reader acotar smut #acotar smut #eris #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #smut

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saintvainglorious · 3 months

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Fics I Enjoyed in January

I was putting together a list of the best fics I read last year and was reminded of two incredible ATLA fics I read in February 2023 ((Never) Forget Who You Are by mindbending and up in the city (until the stars lost the war) by Madseason). Those two fics are absolute perfection and sent me down an Avatar: The Last Airbender rabbit hole this month.

I read an insane amount, for me, even more than I did last year in September/October, when I was chowing down Drarry longfics like a starving dog. There's approximately 993k words of fic in this rec list - if you assume the average novel is 90k, that's about 11 books!

half in the shadows, half burned in flames by r_astra Avatar: the Last Airbender | Gen | 4k | Not Rated

“They say you tried to kill the Firelord,” Hakoda says. "Why?" Zuko doesn’t know how to answer. Because I hate him. Because I love him. Because he wants to see the world burn. Because he knotted one hand in my hair and cupped flames against my face with the other. Because my mother is dead. Because my uncle is dead. Instead, he shrugs tiredly and says: “Someone has to.”

i am through finding blame by sokkaesque/@sokkagatekeeper Avatar: The Last Airbender | Gen | 6k | Teen & Up

Sokka was fourteen the first time he realized people didn’t apologize to him very often. Or, Sokka during The Southern Raiders.

a nation, held by snowdarkred/@snowdarkred Avatar: The Last Airbender | Gen | 6k | General Audiences

It doesn’t take long for the rumors to start. The Fire Nation prides itself on its civilization. It isn’t like the other, lesser, nations who throw their children away by sending them into war. They are to be protected, because children are the future glory of the nation. The crown prince is thirteen when his father burns his face in front of an audience of hundreds.

The Iconoclast by ranilla_bean/@ranilla-bean Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Suki/Zuko | 21k (WIP) | Explicit

After a protracted civil war, the victorious new Fire Lord sends a call for a new bodyguard across the four nations. A Southern Water Tribesman and a warrior from Kyoshi Island respond.

Life in Eden by WitchofEndor/@a-witch-in-endor Avatar: The Last Airbender | Gen | 14k | Not Rated

In which Ursa tries to be a better parent to Azula, and it doesn’t change very much. And then, quite abruptly, it changes everything.

While Mighty Oaks Do Fall by WitchofEndor/@a-witch-in-endor Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Zuko | 181k (WIP) | Teen & Up

The newly-crowned Fire Lord Ozai offers his firstborn son to service in the temple. This turns out to be a catastrophic mistake.

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor/@a-witch-in-endor Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Zuko | 60k | Not Rated

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them. Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

War Crimes by Lovely_Elbow_Leech/@lovelyelbowleech Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Zuko | 90k | Mature | Part 1 of All's Fair

Book one ends with two major differences: 1. Sokka went on the mission with Hahn (it did not go well) 2. Zhao survives the North Pole and that proves unfortunate for everybody (except Zhao, obviously). Imprisoned on Zhao’s war ship, Sokka and Zuko have to work together to survive. They are not very enthusiastic about this prospect. And they argue. A lot.

War Games by Lovely_Elbow_Leech/@lovelyelbowleech Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Zuko | 443k (WIP) | Mature | Part 2 of All's Fair

Sokka is aware that being friends with the enemy is going to bring complications, but he probably should have guessed that being friends with Zuko in particular, was going to be a bit like dunking your head repeatedly into a bucket of angry Fire Ferrets.

Below the Sun by CSHfic and VSfic Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Zuko | 25k | Teen & Up

Sokka is washed overboard while working on the fisherman's boat during the storm. He wakes on a deserted island. Or... mostly deserted.

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic and VSfic Avatar: The Last Airbender | Sokka/Zuko | 143k | Teen & Up

Chief Arnook never assigns Sokka to protect Princess Yue, so he goes to fight the Fire Nation with the other men. When the moon dies, and the ocean spirit takes its revenge, Sokka is caught standing on the deck of a Fire Nation ship. Sokka should have drowned… and he would have drowned, if not for a certain Fire Nation raft fleeing the North Pole. [An enemies-to-lovers season 2 rewrite, where Sokka is separated from the gaang during the Siege of the North, and travels the Earth Kingdom with Zuko instead].

#fic recs #fanfiction #atla #avatar the last airbender #zukka

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haveyouplayedthisttrpg · 2 months

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Have you played CITY OF MIST ?

By Son of Oak Studio

City of Mist is an urban fantasy detective game, based on a modified version of PBTA, where you play as regular people with powers from characters of myth, fairy tales, etc., its system for character creation is extremely flexible and allows you to make pretty much anything with minimal fuzz.

#tabletop rpg #ttrpg #usa #2010s #poll #poll time #city of mist #city of mist rpg

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fuokir · 1 year

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Aena Florence Cowell - Profile

◊ Basic Information ◊

▹ Gender: Female ▹ Date of birth: 19th of February ▹ MBTI: Defender ISFJ-A ▹ Nationality: British | Welsh ▹ Blood status: Pure-blood ▹ Wand: English Oak Wood | Unicorn Core | 14 ½" Length | Slightly Springy flexibility ▹ Nickname: - ▹ House: Slytherin ▹ Patronus: Red Squirrel ▹ Boggart: Dragon/Fire ▹ Amortentia: Juniper, menthol, lime ▹ Animagus: -

◊ Appearance ◊

Aena is slightly above average height. She has long blond hair, to be honest it's hard to say what color, her hair was once very burned out in the sun, I would call it a pearl blond, with a warm undertone. Violet eyes, in her favorite sly squint. A long, straight nose, it is very easy for them to get into other people's business. Freckled skin and two facial scars.

▹ Clothing style: Ready to dress up in anything, the main thing is that it be washed and ironed. She loves trendy blouses and comfortable shoes, otherwise she just wants to look neat. ▹ Accessories: Silver earrings. A brooch with which she secures a bow on her collar. ▹ Other distinguishing features: Two scars. First received before Hogwarts, her younger sister hit her with a candlestick in a fit of rage. This scar cuts through her upper lip. The second one was obtained approximately between 4-6 class step (I still haven't decided) in a fight with Aisha. This scar is located across the bridge of the nose.

◊ Personality ◊

Aena is a person who values connections very much, and, first of all, values her own comfort. She can come across as rude due to her bluntness, although she usually tries to choose her words. For close people, Aena is the figure of an older sister, patronizing and ready to help with deed or advice. She is still clueless in conversation, but it has its own charm. If you come to her in a bad mood or in tears, she will definitely coo around you and if words do not help, then be sure that you will be taken to have fun in Hogsmeade, even if Professor Weasley did not give permission to visit the village. Due to her rather reserved nature, it is very difficult to catch her own resentment or bad mood. As a rule, she suppresses bad emotions if the pressure on her is very strong. Cowell is inclined to break loose on someone, but more often than something (Ferdinand Octavius Pratt will never forgive her for his torn portrait that once hung in the Trophy Hall). Otherwise, she learned to live such moments in herself, not wanting to impose her problems.

▹ Traits: Self-confident, imposing, diligent, cunning, communicable. ▹ Likes: Feeling of winning, gift gifts to friends and family (she is one of those people who will see a wild flower, remember you and pick it to give), To speak caustically. ▹ Dislikes: Gobstones, hates all kinds of sweets and candies (childhood trauma). ▹ Good at: Chess, persuasion, remember things quickly. ▹ Bad at: Flying on a broom (she gets motion sick), to be tact. ▹ Hobbies: Board games, Herbarium, calligraphy. ▹ Fears: Fire, fatal disease. ▹ Ambition: Become an influential person in the magical world.

◊ Family ◊

▹Father: Ambrose Thomas Cowell ▹Mother: Lavinia Marjorie Cowell (nee Brown) ▹Sibling: Aeva Francis Cowell (little sister) | Darcia Arthur Cowell (little brother) ▹ Paternal grandparents: Bertram Caspar Cowell and Marjorie Rose Cowell ▹Maternal grandparents: They do not communicate for one reason or another / Aena does not know them, as much.. ▹ Other noteworthy relatives: Angus Beresford Cowell (uncle), Anna Rayne Brown (aunt), Victor Brown (cousin), Cain Beresford Brown (cousin, illegitimate son of Anna and Angus).

▹ Pet: Couple Mooncalfs and Jobberknoll ▹ Family home: Cardiff ▹ Blood Status: Pure-Blood ▹ Social standing: Middle class family, i guess... Aristocracy? ▹ Family background: The relationship between the Browns and the Cowells became very tense after the announcement of the engagement between Lavinia and Ambrose. Both Aena's parents were strong-willed and strong-willed, and although the families did not want this union, in fear that the newlyweds would quickly fall out of love with each other when they were drawn into the routine, this did not happen. The birth of Aena, the first-born, was not accepted by applause, the parents were still very young, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. it was also that Anna, Lavinia's cousin, and Angus, Ambrose's brother, were not careful and their families found out about their union. And although the Cowells, as a fairly young purebred family, were not well known, everyone whispered about the Browns. This angered the Browns and almost all ties between the families were cut off. This did not prevent the girl from growing up in love and care, even in some kind of permissiveness. Aena was a mischievous child. In particular, she adopted the confidence of her father, and inherited from her mother an unshakable determination. Of course her uncle Angus, who frequents them (living for a while with his brother and his family), also contributed. He was cunning, playful, witty and an excellent gambler. During the early years of Ambrose and Lavinia's marriage, he often stayed to babysit his niece while his brother and his wife worked at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It would be nonsense if, in the end, Aena did not learn to play almost as well as her uncle. Over time, her sister was born, and now not only Angus was the nanny, but Aena herself, because her sister turned out to be a completely restless child.

The Cowell family can be safely called an example of a healthy family, where everyone listens and hears each other. Where conflicts are not hushed up, but resolved. In their house there is always an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Family members value each other, they will never refuse to help friends and relatives. Her parents still work in a bank. Grandfather was an Auror, and her grandmother worked as a curse breaker. Her uncle Angus does not work anywhere, but thanks to his skill as a card sharper, he squanders money in all directions.

◊ Relationships ◊

It is difficult to write down with whom Alena is friends to one degree or another, since she tends to call a friend a person with whom she communicated a couple of times both of them at school. Anyway, she was the most frequent communication with Amit Thakkar, Aisha Werdy(oc), Grace Pinch-Smedley and Imelda Reyes. With the advent of the New Fifth Year, Aena's friend list has become noticeably larger! Since the fifth year, a new student has appeared in Cowell's inner circle (I would like to use a specific character, but I love many MCs so much … this is a difficult choice for me, in general, your character could be here !!!). Through the new fifth year, Aena became closer to Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. This was an interesting experience for Aena, who was very prejudiced against Gaunt due to rumors and stories from her parents. Although her parents did not want to appear biased, because they had also been the subject of all sorts of dirty rumors before, they were very afraid of ties with the Gaunts. Interestingly, thanks to MC, Cowell stopped communicating with Cressida Blume. One day, Aena managed to overhear a conversation between a newcomer and Ominis in the Hogwarts library, where the MC told in detail what he had read in a Gryffindor girl's diary. She also had a quarrel with Imelda for a while, Reyes was tirelessly talking dirty about the new one and Aena was so tired of it that she asked Imelda not to talk to her until it was all over.

Any more serious and romantic feelings were alien to Aena for a long time. Probably the culprit was gambling, through which she received joy and adrenaline. When she was strictly banned from playing within the walls of the school for as much as 2 years, for Cowell it was a global catastrophe. She was still holding small sessions of games in Hogsmeade, Aena could not find a place for herself and did not know what to do. She struggled with background anxiety for a long time, at some point losing any interest in games. Ominis became her distraction. They bumped into each other on the way to Hogsmeade, talking. Gaunt had another problem with his parents (and more problems with Sebastian), Aena had complete emptiness and disappointment in herself as a person (she was really ashamed of her actions). The Slytherins entered into a playful agreement, Aena helped the boy create the appearance of the life that the Gaunts wanted for him (minimal, but this, as it turned out, was enough), and in return Ominis was supposed to simply brighten up Aena's especially lonely days. And so, with slow steps, they became closer and closer to each other.

◊ little things ◊

Heather Mason - Silent Hill 3

Dana Scully - X-Files

Morrigan - Dragon age:Origins

Suki - ATLA

Princess Leia Organa - Star Wars

Rhaenys Targaryen - House of the Dragon

#hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #aena cowell #hphl #hphl mc #hp oc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc

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coffeehighallthetime-blog · 8 months

Text

I am kind, not Complacent chpt 1,{next}

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Word count: 4.9 k

Multi chapter

Heimdall gow x fém! Reader

hi all, this is a Heimdall x reader fic that I was inspired to write thanks to the very kind and talented @engardeitsme I want to thank you for reading my draft and encouraging me to share this with people.

synopsis: You are a little goddess of peace, alone for so long, fearing interacting with the outside world may just make things worse. odin hears of your existence and finds that you may be of use to him, but what will happen when he finds out that peace to you means freedom and fighting for what's right? what will he do as you, just a child, turn his allies against him? turn his son against him?

the reader will be a child for a few chapters, mute at times (spoilers) and the first few chapters will also be a back story before the events of Ragnorok, but we will get there as it is based on the game's plot! aka: Don't worry, there will be some adult pining as well, maybe smut??( idk what I'm doing) and you will see Atreus and Mimir, and Kratos and the rest of our found family.

please enjoy and let me know if you like this and want more because my plan is to write a pretty long story with multiple chapters and I enjoy positive enforcement :..)

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“Excuse me?” a timid voice whispered from the large wooden chest being hoisted between two winged warriors. The moonlight of Vaneheim shone through the keyhole, and YN could only guess the direction they were headed from her memory of the woods. She knocked on the inside of the box on the side of one of her captors. “E-excuse me?” she mumbled a bit louder, “ Um, where are we going? You shouldn’t take me too close to people. And I-it’s starting to feel a bit cramped in here-” A slam came from her left, cutting her off with a start and she held her breath.

“Shut your mouth, Serpent Tongue.” A voice of the Valkerie on her left boomed. YN sighed through her nose and sat silently, her little fingers squeezing into fists and resting on her thighs as she curled up tighter into the cramped chest. Her heart shuttered the farther they got away from her camp, and she could only hope that wherever she was going, she would be able to talk her way out of it and go back to solitude. It was best that way.

Suddenly, the marching of the two Valkeries stopped, and the rushing sound of wind and the screeching of ravens rang in YN’s ears.

The chest rattled, and sweeping darkness fluttered over the moon’s light streaming through the keyhole. YN shut her eyes tightly, covering her ears as the screeching and wings got louder and louder until suddenly there was silence. Not eery, or deafening, but somehow suddenly calm and warm. YN slowly uncovered her ears, willing her eyes to open even slightly. A warm stream of candlelight and the sweet smell of juniper berries and oak came from the keyhole. She slowly rolled onto her knees and peeked out to see where she had been taken. The room was vast and stacked from floor to ceiling with books. Scrolls lay sprawled across a large wooden desk, and she could hear a fire crackling to the left. The screeching of a chair’s legs against the wood floor took her attention, and as she tried to peek at who it was, she gasped; the chest being dropped about a foot onto the floor.

“All-father,” the Valkyries stood rigidly at attention, “We have captured the girl, as requested.” The bottom half of a blue robe, embroidered in intricate golden threads and beading was all YN could see come into view and she swallowed thickly as he stood only a few feet from where she was.

“Wha- she’s in there? The poor thing must be terrified, let her out at once!” He commanded, knocking on the top of the chest, “ I’m so sorry, dear child!” Odin apologized as the Valkyrie on the right unlocked the chest and both Valkyries lifted the top open. Inside, YN winced at the sudden flood of light and hid her face in her hands. Odin crouched down gently, resting his hands on the edge of the box. He waited patiently for the little girl to raise her head, peeking slightly at the man who just smiled down at her. “ I’m so sorry, child. I sent my valkyries because I knew they could be trusted with bringing you here unharmed, but I suppose I forgot to explain that you were to be treated as a guest,” he glared at one, “and not a suspect.” he glared at the other. They stayed unmoving, staring straight ahead. He sighed and turned his attention back to the little girl in the chest. “ You are here now, though, and you are safe now.” He said finally, reaching out a hand for her to grab. She stared at him for a moment and down at his hand, before slowly grabbing it and allowing him to help her from the chest.

“Thank you…” she whispered finally as she got her footing on the wood floor. She still couldn’t look away from their hands as she spoke again. “Am I… in trouble? I apologize if I’ve done anything to upset you.” she froze at the sudden booming laughter of the man in front of her.

“ Trouble? Of course not, sweet girl. But you are very well-spoken, may I just say!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“ You may call me All-Father.” he offered with a pat on her hand. She nodded apprehensively but responded in any case.

“Thank you, All-Father. You may call me YN,” she said instead, bowing a bit lower. Odin tutted and tucked a finder under the girl's chin, making their eyes meet.

“ Now, now. None of that.” he stood tall and with a wave of his hand, the Valkeries dismissed themselves, and YN and Odin were left alone in his study. Odin turned to walk back behind his desk and took a seat, ushering the girl to sit in front of him. She obliged, crawling onto the large chair and letting her feet dangle off the floor, barely able to see Odin over the desk. The man chuckled softly and leaned in closer, resting his elbows on a stack of scrolls. “Do you know why you’re here, YN?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, sir. But I hope I can help in some way, so that I may return home. It is best you keep me away from others.” Odin chuckled again, pointing at her.

“That. That’s why—quite the negotiator. You are very well-spoken, YN, and you are so small. Did your family teach you such good manners?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

“No sir, my family passed away long ago, I’ve been on my own for a bit now.”

“Hm… and how long is a bit?”

“ 3 years in the spring, sir,” she said a bit too quickly. She had been counting every day she had been alone since she could remember. She was truly just a tot when it happened. Only remembering the screams and the flame of her village burning to the ground. She remembered sobbing over her mother’s corpse and promising to never let any needless bloodshed happen again. She didn’t realize her grief was so strong it had cursed her with immortality and the responsibility to hold up her end of the bargain. And though she tried her best to learn and meditate, no one took a little girl asking them to stop fighting seriously. Godly rage in the hands of an emotional child caused more harm than good, turning entire civilizations into mindless drones. No bloodshed, but no soul either. She went into hiding soon after, thinking it better for people to fight for what they believed in, rather than being complacent.

“And you don’t look a day over 12 years.” Odin broke her out of deep thought and she only nodded.

“My… aging has slowed since my family has passed...” She spoke slowly, starting to understand the circumstances.”... you know who I am, don’t you, sir? What I am…” She simply watched as Odin stroked his beard, seeming to ponder what to say next.

“ I do…you are the young goddess of logic, strategy, protection…peace. You seek nothing but peace… And do you know who I am?” He questioned. YN paused for a moment, looking around the room before meeting his gaze once again, “ You are someone important… but I do not know beyond that, I am sorry…” Odin nodded again.

“ I am Odin, the All-Father. Kind of the Asir Gods. it is my job to protect Asgard and the rest of the 9 realms.”

“Odin…” The girl let the name linger on her tongue and realization made her go ridged. “Yes… Yes, I have heard of Odin… are we in Asgard? I thought it wasn’t allowed for people like me.”Odin laughed at this, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yes for our protection I have closed us off from the other realms. But you are a guest. You’ve been alone for a long time.” He stated.

“Yes, sir. I know nothing much outside of Vaneheim, and I have spent little time talking to people enough to understand what is happening in the realms. The easiest way to keep peace for me… is to keep space…”

“Mmh…” he hummed, hinting he wanted some elaboration. The girl nodded and continued,

“ I have found that when I speak… when I speak with people and I’m not careful… they become, uhm… empty?” she tried the word on her tongue, “they don’t act the same. Like ghosts just passing by each other. There is no war or hunger… but there is also no life…” she explained, starting to lose her train of thought. “I just don’t know what I’m doing…” she whispers finally. Odin nods and straightens himself to look down at YN.

“ I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a while, dear child. You seemed so alone, it was heartbreaking…Are you lonely?”

“Yes.” She spoke, without hesitation, not even quite realizing her own words until they rang in her ears. She stiffened in realization, but slowly relaxed into her seat, fidgeting with her hands. “Yes, I am…I don’t run into people much… and Skoll and Hati are a great company, but I miss… I miss my family…” she all but whispered at last, her lip quivering as she came to the realization this was the longest conversation she’s had in nearly 50 years. A blink of an eye in her immortal life, but long and unbearable just the same. She was, after all, only a child. Odin took a moment to listen and let the girl sit in silence before standing up slowly and walking up to her before crouching at her side.

“ I have been watching over you… and how deeply you care for every breathing creature around you so much that you find the strength to stay away is something deeply admirable. You are a very powerful, YN. And I think if you stayed here with me… I would be able to help you use your power to help Asgard build strong connections with all the realms, to create peace everywhere, without fear that you may be manipulating people with your words.”

YN looked up to meet Odin’s gaze and rubbed a tear welling up in her eye. The idea that she may be able to help so many people. May be able to stop needless bloodshed. And to do so without taking away people's free will. It made her heart thrum with hope for the first time in years.

“You think you can teach me?” she asked softly, rubbing under her nose. Odin smiled, resting his withered hand on her head. “Teach me to help people? To help build relationships and… and keep their souls whole?”

“With my help?” Odin asked dramatically, “ Absolutely.”

YN’s heart pumped fast in her chest and she couldn't stop herself from throwing her little arms around Odin’s neck, pressing her teary eyes into his shoulder. He stiffened, staring at the girl clinging to him, before relaxing with a chuckle and patting her back. She knew better than to trust strangers, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone.

“We will talk more soon, but now it is late. Let me show you to your room, There is a hot meal waiting for you, and we don’t want it to get cold now, do we?” He held her at arm's length by the shoulders and helped her whip her tears with the end of his robe. She could only nod as she tried to subside her gently sobbing and Odin stood tall, guiding her with a gentle hand on her head to the upstairs level of the lodge. It was mostly quiet, with gentle murmurs coming from a room here or there. The candlelight felt so calming and YN took this moment to just take in the grandness of the lodge.

“ It’s so big…” she whispered. Odin snickered and ruffled her hair.

“I suppose it is, isn’t it?” he stopped in front of a large oak door at the end of the hall with gold inlay and burnt carvings. He swung the door open to reveal and gently lit the room, Simple yes, but to YN? It was the picture of comfort. I fireplace in one corner, a large queen bed in the other piled with a stack of fine furs with a corner table. A bowl of stew steamed and being cooled by a light breeze flowing through the window. Finally, her eyes landed on two shelves, one full of books and one full of weapons.

“Weapons?” she looked at them quizzically. Odin simply nodded as he led her to her bed, pulling the small table closer so she could start eating.

“ yes. You will be taught to hone your brains, but every Asgardian god must learn to fight. It’s an unfortunate precaution. But it’s because I care so deeply for my family.” YN, swallowing a piping mouthful and staring at Odin with eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Family… me?”

Odin just smiled in return leaning town to tuck a stray hair behind the girl’s ear and kissing the top of her head.

“Get some rest, sweet girl.” With that, Odin walked to the door and bowed before taking his leave. As he shut the door and turned, he could see piercing pink eyes staring from the room across the way. “Heimdall?” he questioned, and was met by the embarrassed gasp of the little boy who had been caught red-handed. Odin sauntered over to the door and the door opened wider, revealing a young boy who looked about twelve, with a mop of golden blond hair and bright rosy sapphire eyes, freckles showing in the candlelight. The boy bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry, All father. I heard noises…different ones I mean.” He stated, not looking his father in the eyes. He seemed to wince now and then, as a barrage of noises and conversations pounded into his ears. Odin patted his head lightly and Heimdall looked up, trying not to show his nervousness. “Who is that girl?”

“A guest, Heimdall. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“A guest… do you think she can be trusted, All-father?” Heimdall looked nervously beyond his father’s figure, staring at the door and listening to what could be happening. There was the clinking of a spoon hitting the bottom of a bowl, the crackle of a dying fire, and a soft hum that seemed to soothe his trembling the more he focused on it. He looked back as his father chortled.

“ I suppose I’ll leave that up to you. She can be of great use to us as a mediator, and she seems eager to help if it means she can learn her powers. But only time will tell.” Heimdall nodded, wringing his hands together nervously as he spoke up again.

“ Do you think… we could be friends, All-Father?”

“Friends? My boy, I’m sorry but I can’t have you getting too distracted. It would be best if you could read her mind and be done with it. If only you were improving faster.” He tsked and Heimdall lowered his head.

“And besides,” Odin continued, “ She will have her own studies to focus on.” Heimdall’s shoulders drooped at the answer and he nodded, meekly. Odin sighed, pinching his temple in slight annoyance before putting on another smile and resting a hand on his Son’s shoulder. “Listen… I will introduce you two, and maybe I can have you two do some combat training here or there. This will allow you the opportunity to learn more about her; do some intel work for me, hm? But you have a very important role to fulfill, Heimdall, I can’t let you lose sight of that. Alright?” Heimdall perked up slightly and nodded.

“Yes, All-father. Thank you, All-father. I promise I won’t get distracted,” he bowed deeply and retreated behind his bedroom door. “Good night, All-Father.”

Heimdall spun from the door, his little bare feet carrying him to his bed where he tucked himself into his furs. He would learn more about the girl with the soft voice tomorrow.

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YN woke to the sound of bustling outside her door. She rubbed her eyes, listening to the heavy footfalls of leather boots and the clatter of daggers and axes dangling off belts. She took in the noise of people talking and shouting down the hall, the sound of sparing outside her window, and what sounded like staff calling out to each other while running errands. She rubbed her tired eyes, stretched her arms high above her head, and flopped deeper into the furs, opening her eyes to look at the ceiling. The more she listened, the more it made her nervous; the thought she was so close to so many people. Her lips pressed tight, she sighed through her nose to ease her nerves.

“ Just don’t try to fix anything…” She mumbled to herself. She didn’t know where she was and how long she would be here, and though Odin had been welcoming and explained that being locked in the chest was a gross misunderstanding, she couldn’t shake a feeling of unnerve hidden under the warmth she felt being in a soft bed and being fed kind words. She learned long ago to never trust first impressions, but being paranoid wouldn’t help either. She felt her body start to shiver but caught herself, frowning and smacking her cheeks lightly to knock out the nerves. “Everything will be fine.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ah!” she yelped and sprang up from her bed to see a maid had made herself comfortable in YN’s room. The maid paid no mind to the girl’s scream, simply walking over to the window to open it, letting a cool breeze in.

“I was wondering when you would finally wake up. Goodness, I only checked five different times this morning! The whole lodge is awake now and you are supposed to be at the training grounds in 30 minutes!” She was an older woman; round and soft with a simple dress that skated across the floor and a tattered apron covered in what looked like coffee stains and dust. She had rough brown hair with lightened streaks that showed her age. Crow's feet pulled at the corners of her eyes and she had permanent worry marks on her forehead. Despite that and her fast pace, she gave off a comforting aura that made YN feel safe. She hustled about, grabbing a shirt and a pair of trousers from a wooden cabinet, she set them on the bed and the girl's feet. “My name is Maliorn; you can call me Mal, Do not call me “maid” or I will smack you,” she warned. “Quickly now, grab these and come with me. I need to get you in the bath and dressed in 20 minutes.”

“Oh, ok, but-whoa!” The maid ushered her out of the hall and pushed her towards a grand bathroom. “W-wait I’m sorry I don’t understand can I at least-” YN yelped as she was shoved yet again.

“No time, we are far too behind for questions. Hurry, hurry, hurry!” YN felt eyes around staring at her, most likely because she was an unfamiliar face being corralled into a bath and trying and failing to get a word in. Before the maid slammed the door, YN saw bright pink eyes stare back into hers, the boy’s shoulders shaking in laughter at her. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she couldn’t do much but hide her face in her clothes. Mal huffed as YN simply froze and ushered her to the bath. “None of that now. I wouldn’t have to rush you if you had just woken up earlier. Clothes off please.”

“I didn’t know I needed to, I’ve never had a schedule before,” YN explained, pulling her nightshirt off over her head. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“Just Mal, dear,” Mal stated, picking YN up from under her arms and dropping her into the bath. YN gasped, shivering and trying to crawl out before Mal pushed her back and poured a pitcher of ice-cold water onto her head, grabbing shampoo.

“It’s f-freezing!” YN whined, shaking like a leaf as Mal pulled her sopping hair from her face and scrubbed any grime from it.

“Tch, well it would have been warm if you were awake when I drew it.” Mal teased with a smile, pouring another pitcher of water to wash the suds out. After a more thorough scrub down than YN would have liked, Mal pulled her out of the bath, tossing her a soft towel. “Hurry and get dressed. If you are quick you may be able to grab some bread from the great hall before I take you to the training grounds. Do NOT,” mal pointed a finger at the girls forehead “ go to the great hall alone. Find me and I will get you something to eat.” With that, Mal slipped out of the room, most likely to run off and take care of her other duties while she waited for YN to get dressed. The girl finally took the first deep breath since she woke up and pulled on her black trousers and green tunic, tying in the back around her waist to stop any bunching. She used leather straps to tighten the cloth of her shirt to her wrists, as well as her trousers around her ankles. She wrapped a final piece around her hair into a ponytail and ran off to try and find Mal.

YN ended up wandering into the great hall, The smell of fresh bread and lingonberry jam, sausage and lamb roast, porridge and honey, and even sweet almond cakes made her mouth water. She followed it to a main table, crowded by people nearly stacked on top of each other. Warriors in the morning were desperate to eat their fill before going off to train, and as a result, there were stronger warriors at the forefront hoarding food while others pushed against the table to grab at anything they could find. This caused fresh loaves, cakes, butter, and jam jars to topple off the table in a waste, causing more problems of ‘I was going to eat that!’ and ‘You owe me a new pair of boots, worm!’.

YN was able to dissect the entire situation and how it could be fixed, but shook her head. ‘No’ she thought ‘I can’t intervene on my first day. I just need to grab something and leave.’ With that, YN tried her best to squeeze between the crowds of people swarming the table to get some food. She huffed and tried again to move past the large lumbering bodies, her heart beating faster as the crowd’s shouting made her lose her bearings. She started to panic at the yelling and lack of space and gasped as she was grabbed by the hair and yanked to the side.

“Oy, I’m not done yet, vermin.” A man sneered down at her, his face caked in the oils of sausage links and jam. He spoke with his mouth full, sputtering food, and cackled as YN whipped her face from flying crumbs before turning back to his food. YN scowled, feeling something primal bubble up deep inside her. Letting her frustration get the better of her, YN took a deep breath before tugging on the leg of the einherjar who had grabbed her not a moment ago. He whipped around at her, snarling in annoyance.

“What do you want, you little rat?” the man sneered. YN blinked her big eyes and smiled up shyly at the hulk of a man.

“I’m very sorry, sir, but I’m having some trouble getting to the food table. Don’t you think it would be better if everyone simply took turns grabbing what they needed and then taking a seat?” Her voice seemed to echo and carry through the great hall like a song, and the shouting and clamoring started to quiet as people listened to her “suggestion”. The man in front of YN seemed to get clouded vision as he nodded slowly, his features relaxing as he finally swallowed his food and moved to the side so she could get to the table, others following suit, humming in agreement at the suggestion. The girl smiled and grabbed a loaf of warm bread, breaking it open and watching the steam ripple from the inside. She hummed as she slathered it with butter and jam and folded it back closed. Turning back, she bowed slightly at the crowd slowly surrounding her.

“Thank you, now I will take my leave and let someone else go. See? Isn’t that much better?” the girl asked with a smile, going to suck some jam off her thumb.

“Yes… You are right. So sorry, goddess…” She froze at the title, her thumb still in her mouth. She quickly popped it out and shook her head. ‘I did it again…’ she thought in a panic. YN swallowed thickly and waved her hands in the air.

“N-nevermind! It was a dumb idea, do what you want!” In a split second everyone seemed to regain their senses. The warrior she had spoken to blinked back his foggy haze and focused back down at her, glaring.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? I wasn’t done eating yet, you little runt!” She gasped as he reached out his arm to snatch at her, and yelped when she was suddenly pulled by her scruff from the crowd. She was all but dragged outside and whipped around to a panicked Mal, who grabbed her face and scanned her body.

“My goodness, are you alright?!” Mal sighed as the girl nodded and then put on a scowl. “I thought I told you to come find me. The great hall is no place for you to be going alone, they’re all animals in there. ESPECIALLY in the mornings! The bunch of heathens.” Mal scolded YN until she noticed the girl's shy form looking meakly down at her bread. She sighed and patted her head before putting a hand on her back and leading her towards the training ground. “Now now, no use crying over spilled milk. I’m glad you got something to eat, you’ll need it. Hurry and wolf that down while you can.” YN nodded and took a bite of her breakfast, humming at the soft texture of the bread and sweet jam. She looked towards the training grounds and focused on a small boy, about her age. His golden hair shimmered in the morning sun as he moved swiftly against his opponent, a large lumbering man with fiery red hair. The boy turned, feeling YN’s eyes on him, scowled as he met her gaze. The girl frowned in return. ‘What’s his problem?’ she thought, suddenly feeling anxious at having to interact with someone who held such obvious disdain on his face.

Heimdall clicked his tongue as he focused more on her, trying to hear her thoughts, but couldn’t focus when they were so far apart. He didn’t pay enough attention to dodge a blow to the back of the head from the man he was sparing.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, glaring up at his brother, “ Hey, I wasn’t ready!” he snapped. The young man rolled his eyes, tossing his hammer lazily in his hand. He was nearly seven feet tall and still growing. His hair was tied back in two braids and a bun, and the scruff of his beard was just long enough for a single short braid.

“Pay attention, brat. I have more important things to do than teach you how to swing a sword around. The least you could do is pay attention,” he looked down at Heimdall and smirked, “and stop making it so obvious you’re trying to read minds. It’s pathetic.” Heimdall gritted his teeth.

“I’m already more useful than you, Thor. All you’re good for is throwing your weight around!” he snapped back. Thor stopped tossing his hammer and instead harshly held it under his brother’s chin, making him strain to look up at him.

“Better than being a sniveling little monster who can’t even use his gifts without sobbing like a baby. Should I tell All-Father about a few nights back? When you wept for hours because “it was just too loud to sleep~” Thor made a mocking whimper as he impersonated Heimdall and his last episode. Heimdall shivered at the mention of the All-Father and what he would do if he found out Heimdall had been crying from the voices in his head again. Thor continued, “At least I do what I was made for. I can fight, and you can barely do that.”

“Yes, I can!”

“Oh yeah?” Thor looked over at the girl coming closer to the training ground. Odin had already told him he was going to be given another brat to babysit and was dreading it until now. He smirked as he looked back down at Heimdall. “That little runt has probably never fought in her life. I bet you can’t even beat her.” Heimdall looked back towards the girl and then up at his brother.

“Is that a wager?” he smirked. Thor snorted.

“Sure. if you can best her, I’ll tell Father you’ve been improving much faster these past few days. If you can’t beat her, then…” Thor strokes his beard as he ponders a punishment then shrugs, “I’ll tell the All-Father about your most recent tantrum.” Heimdall’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“You can’t be serious!”Thor simply stood straight and crossed his arms.

“I mean, if you don’t think you can do it-”

“Of course, I can!” the boy snapped, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Thor snickered and held out his hand.

“It's a bet then.” Heimdall scowled and put his little hand in his brother's. He wasn’t going to lose to some little girl from who knows where. He was an Aseir prince. And no one would know about the things that keep him up at night. Not even the All-Father.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

#fiction #heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #gow ragnorak #gow odin #god of war x reader #fem!reader #gow x you #heimdall x you #i don't know what else to tag #@engardeitsme #i think thats it #let me know if i'm missing one #mute!reader #child!reader #child!Heimdall #I am kind not complacent #dance with me like the sun and moon

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tea-with-evan-and-me · 2 months

Text

man about town interview | spring/summer 2014

for the tweam! click through for my best attempt at deciphering this (maybe impossible to find?) throwback interview

‘’I don’t think I’m scary at all. It was kind of funny watching myself being scary. Because I’m not scary.’’ Says Evan Peters, the up-and-coming up-for-anything actor best known for his extreme roles on American Horror Story, the prestige television series that treats social taboos as map points. For three seasons, Peters has excelled at playing against his offbeat boyishness by amping up his young Malcolm McDowell intensity, with results that fall somewhere between ‘’teen dream in strangler’s gloves’’ and ‘’terrifying Michael Cera.’’ He most recently appeared in American Horror Story: Coven as Kyle Spencer, the good-natured university student who is decapitated and then reanimated with the body parts of his Kappa Lambda Gamma brothers as a temperamental Rocky Horror who beats his sexually abusive mother to death with a trophy.

Over a bold chai tea with stevia, at a restaurant in Venice, California, Peters is lighthearted and dryly humorous, like a young Michael Shannon, with whom he should costar in a successful disturbing family sitcom. He wears black jeans, a well-worn t-shirt under a plaid flannel, and a necklace with a toy dinosaur pendant. He drives a 2004 Pontiac Vibe that he correctly describes as ‘’vintage’’; says that he just feels like growing his longish blond hair into a ponytail, and has a red thumbs-up permanently inked onto the to pof his right hand, that was traced over a nightclub door stamp. At one point, he raises his forearm to show off a temporary tattoo that he received the night before at the castle park family entertainment center in Sherman oaks. ‘’This is a Belle tattoo. It’s not real,’’ he explains playfully of a small portrait of the beautiful young heroine from the animated Disney film Beauty and the Beast. I tell him it’s very pretty. ‘’Thank you. She’s gorgeous,’’ he responds. I ask if Belle is his favorite Disney princess. ‘’Well, I picked her out. There was also Jasmine, Ariel and Cinderella. My other buddies got those.” ‘’What about Belle appeals to you?’’ ‘’She likes the Beast.’’ Peters says.

This summer, Peters appears as the teenage Mutant speeder Quicksilver in X-Men: Days of Future Past, the sequel to 2011’s X-Men: First Class, which has proven to be an eventful ??? movie. In October 2012, director Matthew Vaughn – who relaunched the franchise with much needed style and a new cast of young, indie + credible actors – left the film to be replaced by original trilogy director Bryan Singer. As such, fans were already touched when Singer announced that he would retell ‘’Days of Future Past,’’ the seminal X-Men time-travel storyline from 1980, an ambitious plan turned wild when he revealed that both franchises would merge into one. Cut to the 2012 San diego Comic-Con whereby unthinkable feats of scheduling – the sprawling casts of the modern-day first series and the 60’s era prequel (that include expensive names like Jennifer Lawrence, Hugh Jackmon, Halle Berry, Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Michael Fassbender, and so on). Convened with ??? new additions like Peters to unhinge popular culture. ‘’You think to yourself, ‘’wow, people really, really love this stuff.” And it makes you appreciate it more. It makes you work harder at it.’’ he says about the experience.

Peters’ role in the films is crucial but concise. ‘’It’s a huge, huge opportunity but I always make sure to tell people it’s just one scene. Easy, it's just one scene.’’ Peters says, as if talking down a rearing horse. Quicksilver has already been the subject of film industry chatter regarding lawful usage of the character, who is both the son of Magneto and a colleague of the Avengers, making him fair game for inclusion in both Days of Future Past and the 20n5 Avengers sequel (in which he will be played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson of Kick-Ass). An Empire magazine Preview of Quicksilver’s costume design was greeted with comparison to Kid Vid, a ‘90’s cartoon form of the Burger King ‘’Kid’s Club,’’ and the news that Peters had been saddled with the Halle Berry “rough wig’’ role. But his fan’s enthusiasm for the project—in which desperate X-Men from a dystopias future try to stave off mutant genocide by altering the present day—is undimmed. ‘’I think it’s the best film of the francise yet,’’ proclaims Peters. ‘’It’s pretty dire. It’s a pretty epic situation. But there’s definitely some humor in there. Its’s just badass, man.’’

Quicksilver is a departure for Peters in some ways if not others. Both X-Men and Horror Story are tight productions that take extensive precautions to protect story lines. Peters says that he did not receive the full script for X-Men until arriving at the Montreal location days before shooting. Horror Story pages are often delivered the night before a scene. The short lead time can demand a ??? almost improvisational acting process. ‘’The minute we get the script, plans are cancelled, dinner is cancelled,’’ he says about working on Horror Story. ‘’Some of it you’re like, ‘Oh shit, I have to do that?’ Screaming and crying, realizing that my whole body is pieced together and I’m not myself? I’ll probably have to work on that.’’

Peters owes his career to television. ‘’I was watching a lot of TV and I kind of wanted to be on the TV and in movies. I love movies and TV,’’ he says, and cites inspirations like Joaquin Phoenix, Heath Ledger, Christian Bale, George Clooney, JIM Carrey, Chris Farley, Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump, and the millennial teen comedies Even Stevens starring Shia Labeuof and So Little Time with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. ‘’That sort of stuff. I just really wanted to be a part of it and loved acting and performing.’’ He moved to Los Angeles with is mother when he was 15 years old, and steadily won work in television, on shows including Phil of the Future (2004) and One Tree Hill (2008), and in movies like the independent films Clipping Adam (2004), his first big break, and later Kick Ass (2010). Being cast as Tate Langdon in the first season of American Horror Story in 2011 was his tipping point, playing a Skull Boy-faced high school shooter in a latex catsuit who rapes his girlfriend’s mother to please a ghost. He has since become one of the five main players to appear in all three season of the series, sterling company that includes Jessica Lange, Sarah Paulson, Lily Rabe and Frances Conroy.

Now the world gets to enjoy a lighter side of Peters, like when he appeared on a 2011 episode of the G4 networks Attack of the Show and blithely volunteered that he was working a a rap song called ‘’I’ll Tap That Fucking Ass.’’ He laughs off a request to recite a verse. ‘’I can’t. That never materialized. I tried but it was too much pressure. It was just a concept. I was just trying new ideas,’’ he says, and then volunteers a different musical direction. ‘’It’s called ‘Natch Snatch.’ Like all natural snatch. Big bush. Snatch. Cause it’s nice. You know, ‘girl, you’ve got that natch snatch.’ It’s another nice concept. Probably on the same album.’’ Peters laughs in agreement at the suggestion that he is a kook in the best sense of the word. ‘’I get called a weirdo sometimes,’’ he admits ‘’But it’s like, I don’t feel that weird. I don’t feel that different. I look at everybody else and I’m like, ‘’you’re a fucking weirdo, too. You like all of your shit. I like my shit.’’ Why does one have to be weird and one have to be normal? It doesn’t make any sense to me.’’ Meanwhile, he seems to be successfully negotiating his public and private persona. ‘’I’ll try to be myself as much as I can but you obviously can’t be who you are at home in your skivvies eating donuts. You can’t be that.’’ He explains, before confirming that guy exists, with his tongue sort-of-in-cheek. ‘’You bet he does. Yeah, definitely watching New Girl. Crying.’’ But while Peters seems fairly comfortable in the public eye, fame no longer interests him. The development is not unrelated to his intense, closely-watched relationship with fiancée and two-time costar Emma Roberts (on coven and in the 2013 ?? Adult World) ‘’When I was younger I was like, ‘’That would be awesome!’’ now I don’t particularly love it,’’ he says ‘’Emma gets paparazzi a lot, and because I’m with her we get paparazzi, so it’s kind of a weird thing that I don’t love. But it’s so small in the big picture of all the positives that come with this job that I can’t really complain about it.’’ he may be surprised by the attention he and Roberts receive, but he is hardly self-ptying. ‘’Honestly, it’s not that bad. If you don’t set up a Google alert on yourself and go out searching for it then you’re not going to see it. So I don’t see it.’’ Roberts has already endured the Hollywood learning curve that Peters is now experiencing. ‘’She gives me advice, like cut your hair. She likes my hair to look nice,’’ he says, and laughs. ‘’She’s been around and knows the ropes and how to play the game very well. And she has incredible social skills. She can talk to anyone and everyone loves talking to her. I’m not that good at that stuff so she kind of helps me out with that.’’ I wonder what guidance she offers him. ‘’You’ve just got to be personable and talk to people, even if you don’t want to. Put on a happy face and buck up. Grow a pair of balls. Don’t be a little wuss.’’ Petersa says, and laughs. ‘’I mean, she doesn’t say that, but you know what I mean.’’

Next for Peters is Lazarus, opposite Olivia Wilde, Donald Glover and Mark Duplass a 2015 feature from director David Gelb, known for the documentary Giro: Dreams of Sushi. Peters describes the project, about a team of brainiacs working magnanimously to reanimate the dead, as a “contained Sci-Fi horror thriller” as it mostly takes place in one laboratory setting. He plays the party animal scientist. Peters encouraging sidesteps the questions of his involvement in the next season of American Horror Story, to be set in 1950 and the present day, for which Jessica Lange is practicing a German accent. ‘’I don’t know what I’m allowed to say so I’m going to say no comment,’’ he says.

‘’At the end of the day it is acting. You want to go with the biggest, weirdest, boldest shit and see if you can actually do it and go there,’’ Peters concludes, ‘’I’m very curious about everything. I feel like I don’t know that much. I’m trying to learn it all and figure it all out.’’

#i did my best #i strained my eyes #typos are mine and i put question marks where i couldn't make out the words #evan peters #evanpeters #tate langdon #american horror story #kai anderson #kyle spencer #ahs

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