#thread: eira

[fairytaletold]

@miidnighters // continued.

YOU WIN. Were there any other words half as sweet? He can't actually see her smile, but she's pretty sure he can feel it.

❛ Are you — ❜ A half suppressed giggle. A giggle. But she can’t help it, can she? If he could see how ridiculous he looked, determinedly tucked to one side, Eira thinks he would laugh too. She stretches out alongside him, propped on an elbow, taking him in. ❛ Are you quite comfortable? ❜

#she’s DELIGHTED tbqh #miidnighters // flynn #miidnighters #thread: eira #v: dungeons + dragons

[dcviated]

animal crossing starters :: old meme

@causalitylinked sent: “Oh, I get it! You’re playing it cool. Trying your best not to cry.” [ from fang to eira! source ]

The only thing more fervent than the lingering heat that rose from Eira's mace was the frustration dripping from her creased brow. Beyond aggravating. Her facade of composure and dignity was a transient one to begin with. The right prods and strikes to it would break the shield before too long. But rather than a scared girl beneath her fierce countenance, one would find something far scarier than that.

Needless to say, Fang took a metaphorical rock and threw it right through her window.

"Cr--?!" Eira sputters, expression contorting as she turns to face Fang. "Not to cry? Not to cry?! Our quarry has escaped, delaying the mission, and your reaction is to try and torment me for keeping face?!" The woman levels her weapon at the other, flames billowing off the tip of the Fury before with a grit of her teeth the weapon is whipped away. The threat of violence is replaced with one of discipline, finger pointing accusingly at the man as distance is closed. "Should I remind you it was due to your negligence that we ended up in this mess? Tch! This wouldn't have happened if you kept to my instructions."

One for a strategy that had been showing its own cracks, and even if they were in no fault to anyone given outside appearances, she was remiss to accept any of those shortcomings. Gods forbid that blame fall onto her. Regardless, in her eyes, that far from excused the man's careless behavior in abandoning their point, allowing the situation to resolve in the enemy's favor.

"I could have handled the reinforcements fine as I was, Fang. Now- If you had better ideas than trying to harass me for your own amusement, I would much rather hear those. Might I remind you, that meal is on the line."

#causalitylinked #causalitylinked :: fang #muse :: eira #verse :: fairy fencer #inbox :: answered ic #and thanks for this one too B) #definitely needed more threads with eira #and this match is going to be hell #I'm here for it

[frznkingdom]

I just remembered a fight that happens in ELMM canon around Volume 5 that I completely forgot I wanted to happen.

Eira vs Nera.

Because when Eira finally manages to escape from home, she doesn't know what has happened to Laurel in Volume 4 until she gets back to Atlas Academy (Perle took her scroll cutting off all contact from everyone Eira knew).

And oh boy. She will want revenge.

#[mun speaks; ooc] #[graceful soldier: eira] #[thread of hope: laurel] #[the plague doctor of mantle: nera] #now i gotta figure out the theme for that fight...

[fluttcringsx]

closed starter for: @offaraway

Daniel && Eira

Daniel could always sense when people felt out of place or all around uncomfortable. He understood it, because he had been that way almost all of his life. Born into a world that wasn’t very nice to him, without parents or a family behind him, it definitely had been hard. As a young boy, he was constantly trying to fit in and even now, after thirty years on this earth, he still wanted to know what his calling was. For someone who only had basic education—thanks to his struggles with reading and writing—he’d gone far in life. No one would have ever guessed he would become a guard. Much less one for the Romanian royal family. He supposed he had a lot to thank for, because despite not having family connections, he made friends everywhere he went. That was how he landed this post, which ultimately led him to Florence.

He was standing by the entrance of one of the grand rooms when he spotted a figure. By the looks of it, they looked really out of place. Usually, he would have kept mum, however, a part of him would not allow him to stay quiet. At least not until he saw if there was something he could do for the person. “Are you lost?” He questioned, his tone polite. “I could assist you if you need help getting somewhere.”

#threads: daniel lowell #daniel && eira 001 #//if this makes 0 sense lmk and i'll change it lol

[cxrsedmoon]

( @arcxnumvitae​ ) Liked for a starter

“You brought your swimsuit, right?” Fanged grin splits across sharp features, crimson irises alight with excitement as the warmth of his hand grasps her wrist. Tiny as she is, he didn’t want her to get lost along the way. That particular thought had Elias chuckling softly to himself, but it was quickly gone as he remembered where they were heading. “You’re going to love it, I promise.”

Feet trekked along the light path, one so barely seen that only those who have already been through would know their way out of. Or someone like him with an impeccable sense of smell. “Look! It’s just over there!” The sound of rushing water greeted sensitive ears, only further exciting the lycanthrope as he tugged Eira along. “Wait, you can swim too right? Like in really deep water?” He paused in his trek just at the edge of a steep cliff. A large waterfall now stood behind him, deeper woods on either side had kept this a little hidden gem in his state. So few knew of it so it was always clear of other’s whenever he came. 

“So this is it, what do you think? Perfect right?” A soft mist coated the air, a cool break from the heat of the sun as Elias gazed over the edge. “Pretty high drop but it’s incredibly fun! How are you with heights?” He released her wrist, fingers grasping his own chin in thought as he realized there were quite a few things he should have asked before dragging her all the way here. “But hey! If it’s not for you, there’s a way down to the bottom, we can always hang out by the water instead of swimming. What do you think?”

#Elias ( threads ) #Eira ( arcxnumvitae ) #arcxnumvitae #( threads ) #{ Elias & Eira }

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | forest // seventy-eight

| @catamano | @amuhav | @rollingsim

next / previous / beginning

TAYUIN: According to Therion’s map, it’s likely a two-day journey to the witch’s hut. Assuming she hasn’t packed up and moved in the meantime. The mirror can help guide us, to an extent, but I find it’s not entirely reliable. SARAYN: That mirror… mind if I see it? TAYUIN: Are you going to curse it or something? SARAYN: laughs No. TAYUIN. Fine. Here. SARAYN: Fascinating… it seems only to work for its owner. EIRA: If you can’t see your reflection, we call that vampirism. TAYUIN: snorts SARAYN: I expect it would be easier for you just to write me off as some monster. EIRA: If you wanted to be seen otherwise, you wouldn’t have made the choices you did. In the end, what has it gotten you other than an unsavory reputation? You’re not any closer to winning these trials than the rest of us. SARAYN: I suppose that still remains to be seen. TAYUIN: I think we can safely assert we won’t be threading friendship bracelets anytime soon. Let’s just focus on our goal and keep the character attacks at bay. At least until after dinner.

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 bachelor challenge #chosen of the sun #cc: eira #cc: sarayn tev'us #cc: tayuin eth'salin #im the yellow lightning that always shows up in animes #between two characters that hate each other #you know you're in some shit when TAY has to play mediator lmfao #half these pics crack me up but that last one truly sends me

[hangingslothcentral]

New Project is so odd because its pieces have fallen together so fast even though the concept is very new to me, and is simultaneously a synthesis of everything I've learned in my last few years making audio dramas. I feel like usually when I'm talking about the creative processes for shows, I'm talking about something which has some sort of pre-existing lore, or which is drawing on some deeply held vibes I've been desperate to express.

Clockwork Bird is an adaptation of the first novel I ever wrote, which nobody wanted to publish. it is a MUCH better audio drama than it ever was a novel, and it was a great place to begin, with all that structure already in place.

Spirit Box Radio was born out of everything I WANTED to happen in several different shows but which didn't happen. some of those story threads are pulled out of work I've been writing for years, though the actual story of the show was brand new. I remember pulling from so many things I loved so deliberately, too; SBR is a show which wears its inspirations on its sleeves.

Not Quite Dead is the first time I've let a vampire story take the spotlight but it's not the first time I've written one. as I've discussed at length before, I've been writing bits and pieces about vampires purely for myself for over a decade and a half. NQD is not the SAME as those stories, but it relies on them, draws on them to make it what it is.

Twelvelms (which I will make, somehow. I will do this.) is a combination of all three of those things. a fantasy world I've been writing since my childhood, built in part as a response to frustrations I felt with other fantasy worlds, and which I've been writing bits and pieces of here and there for many, many years.

the New Project, though, is kind of touching ideas I've handled before again, but kind of not. the format is similar to some things I've made, but it also isn't. the structure of the plot is a little bit like other projects I've worked on but it's also brand new. except it's also an assemblage of ideas I've had for other shows I didn't have the confidence or skills to pull off before.

it's still not ready to be announced quite yet, but what I have made so far for this show, I am already immensely proud of and extremely excited about. I cannot wait to share it with you all <3

--- Eira xxx

#eira speaks #spirit box radio #clockwork bird #fiction podcast

[seluniite-archived]

light psa regarding mains/exclusives/etc: i’ve stated this in my rules, but aside from her backstory, there really is no “canon” for eira. everything is dependent on whatever au i’m dedicated to in their own contained threads. all my connections, whether romantic or platonic, exist within their own respective aus. romantic ships all have their own endings and developments and families. i have several eira save files just for shipping her with every companion, which are all separate from the canon character connections i have here. i enjoy the flexibility that comes with that and it’s specifically why i prefer not to list “affiliated” blogs and why i will not agree to exclusivity. i personally am capable of pitching different connection ideas for the same character if the energy is there. if exclusivity is something you want, then that’s fine, but i expect the same courtesy when i say that it’s not something i’m interested in. i have been restricted and guilted a lot by people in my past in other rpcs with exclusive mindsets and it is not something i will fall into here. all i wanna do is vibe with everyone who’s willing to vibe with me. that’s all.

#✧ 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 ( ooc ). #( this has nothing to do with tumblr rp just dealing with another writing medium atm ) #negative // #ish

[kwiyoshi]

彡✎ Is Blogging Still a Thing, or Did It Get Lost in MySpace? ("Is blogging still relevant in the age of TikToks and Instagram?")

Every time I go on social media platforms like Twitter or Tumblr, I can post the most trauma-dumping content to ever exist, or even post the funniest memes. This image is all I could think about in regard to that.

In a world where cat videos go viral and memes have become a form of communication, it's high time we ask: Is blogging still relevant in the age of TikTok and Instagram?

Blogging? Whats that

A blog is defined as an online journal or informational website that displays content in reverse chronological order, with the most recent posts appearing first. It serves as a sort of forum for writers to express their opinions on specific topics (Minaev 2023). Over the years, the relevancy of blog sites such as Tumblr and even Blogspot (now known as Blogger) seems to be declining.

Tumblr, tumbled away

For Tumblr specifically, I noticed that not a lot of people are talking about or even using Tumblr after they banned explicit content on the platform. Honestly, even before they banned adult content, I still never heard anything about Tumblr. However, it was reported that the website experienced its most significant drop in the number of blogs following the ban on adult-oriented content in December 2018, plummeting from 521 million to less than 370 million in just two months (Eira 2023).

To make matters worse, Tumblr does not even appear on any of the social media usage rankings anymore. Most people nowadays would prefer using social media platform giants such as Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube. In short, Tumblr fell off. From that, it seems that Tumblr isn't "the vibe™" anymore with Gen-Zs.

Despite Tumblr not seeing the light of day in today's generation, I do think that blogging in general is still relevant on platforms such as Twitter and its newest competitor, Threads (from Meta). I do think that some, if not, most of the community from Tumblr has migrated to Twitter due to the similarities that the two platforms have.

Twitter, Oops I meant X

Twitter, or you can even call it "X" (don't call it that), has done quite an amazing job at carrying on Tumblr's legacy but through a different format. Twitter is considered as a microblogging platform that combines content creation and instant messaging. It also increases interaction with an online audience by sharing brief remarks using a microblog (Sprout Social 2023). Personally, I think that Twitter is a great platform to receive news, interact with the fandom that I am in, and also see who got canceled (again). I feel that part of the reason why Twitter seems to be more popular than Tumblr is due to the character limit that Twitter has, which is capped at 280 characters per post (without the premium subscription). As someone who suffers from mild ADHD, I would prefer Twitter to Tumblr for that reason. I find that Tumblr could be quite overwhelming to some people, especially those who have just started out. Twitter, on the other hand, is mostly short-formed content, that can also be separated out as a thread.

Here are a few examples that I took from my own Twitter page:

Hanging on by a Thread(s)

Threads (from Meta), is also really similar to Twitter in terms of everything. It is also a microblogging platform. In my honest opinion, I quickly got tired of Threads after a week of using it. I just thought it was quite boring to use and there isn't really anything new other than being able to still use your existing Instagram account to create a Threads account. It just felt really similar to Twitter and I think that might be part of the reason why it is not doing as well. I also feel like I am very comfortable with Twitter and have been a part of Twitter for a long time now (even though it got rebranded to "X"). I still hate the fact that Twitter got rebranded to X. No one can ever make me call it X.

Welcome back to my channel !

Besides Tumblr and Threads, blogging has also evolved into a video format, called vlogging. Vlogging is short for video blogging or video logging (changing the b to v from blogging, very original). Most content creators nowadays would typically post either their daily routine or the adventures they had on platforms like YouTube or TikTok. Each of their videos has a unique style that fits the aesthetic or personal preference of the creator. I find that vlogging is one of the easiest media to consume due to the fact that it is in a video format where I can see their vlogs visually and also from their own perspective.

Final thoughts and prayers

Overall, I do believe that, in some aspects, blogging is still a thing and is also relevant in the ages of TikToks and Instagram. With social media platforms such as Twitter, Threads, YouTube, TikTok, and Tumblr, blogging will remain relevant.

References:

Eira, A 2023, Number of Tumblr blogs in 2022/2023: User Demographics, growth, and revenue, Finances Online, viewed 27 September 2023, <https://financesonline.com/number-of-tumblr-blogs/#:~:text=The%20site%20suffered%20its%20biggest,the%20global%20COVID%2D19%20lockdown>.

Sprout Social 2022, Microblog, Sprout Social, viewed 27 September 2023, <https://sproutsocial.com/glossary/microblog/#:~:text=Microblogging%20is%20a%20combination%20of,offer%20popular%20platforms%20for%20microblogging>.

Minaev, A 2023, What is a blog? - definition of blog, Blogging & Blogger, First Site Guide, viewed 27 September 2023, <https://firstsiteguide.com/what-is-blog/>.

#MDA20009 #Week4

[cruelangcls]

some fcs i really wanna use a thread if anyone gives me the chance to use them, i will use any muse you'd like and forever love you <3 -hal/sey -phoebe ton/kin -emily rud/d -barbie ferr/eira -julia reh/wald -megan fo/x

#{ooc}

[fairytaletold]

@miidnighters // continued.

The duck of her head is decidedly performative, but it also hides how she rolls her eyes. Gods, she hates the magistrate. What a pompous, overstuffed little man -- though he does, admittedly, have rather good taste in jewelry. Isaac's hand is ridiculously secure against the delicate slope of her shoulder; if she manages to escape out from underneath it at all, he's likely to simply lift her up by the scruff of the shirt like a wayward cat.

( How does she know, you ask? Because he's already done it before. )

She's trapped. It's a miserable feeling, truly, and though she's forced to sit in his presence, it doesn't mean Eira is listening. She's chosen a new pastime instead: rolling a garnet studded golden ring dexterously over her knuckles, back and forth, hiding the slow unfurl of a smile. Which of them was likely to notice first? Isaac, towering above her, or the magistrate, once he notices his ring missing?

#SORRY ISAAC :) #miidnighters #miidnighters // isaac #thread: eira

[arachnixe]

Once A Hero

The knight was a hero once. The princess called her that, at least, before sending her on this quest.

Princess Eira does not speak idly. She is special, heir to a powerful bloodline, able to tap into ancient powers. When she speaks, one must listen. Her visions foretold a dark and terrible threat to the kingdom—that if left unchecked might tear apart the very foundations of the world.

The world needed hope.

Legends speak of a powerful sword, long hidden, able to vanquish any foe, if the right hero were to wield it, and unlike a princess, a hero could always be anyone, even someone from such humble origins as Leora.

Chosen for her skill in battle, for unwavering determination in the face of hardship, and for some unnamed quality the princess saw within her heart, Leora was given her quest.

Here, now, at the end of a long journey, the knight arrives at her destination.

She stands in the corpse of some ancient temple, a ruin that might once have been impressive, but which has been slowly reclaimed by roots and moss, and suddenly doubt clouds her heart.

The silence of the grave greets her. Even the heavy thud of her footsteps is choked and smothered by an unsettling pressure in the air all around. Leora’s breathing is labored. Sweat slicks her brow. She grits her teeth and pushes deeper into the ruin.

In the center of all this decay she finds an intact chamber. If there was ever a door, it long ago crumbled into dust. Leora moves past words carved at the entrance in some ancient, dead language, setting foot inside a room somehow more desolate than the rest of the ruin.

Her eyes are drawn to the altar in the very center, on which rests a small, cloth-wrapped bundle bound to the altar with thick lengths of solid-gold chain.

The knight takes one cautious step after another, approaching the relic that she knows must be her prize.

The cloth itself, thick and many-layered as it might have once been, has rotted as much as anything else here. As she approaches, she catches a glimpse of strange, otherworldly light peeking through a hole in the fabric, and her heart skips a beat.

A faint hiss displaces the chamber’s silence. It’s only after the knight takes a deep breath to steady herself that Leora realizes she has been making the sound herself through clenched teeth.

An eternity later, she reaches the altar. Sweat beads on her skin. Her hands shake.

Trepidation or no, her hands know what to do with the chains binding the weapon. She grips them, flexes, and the solid gold links crumble to dust as easily as ancient, rusted-through iron.

The work of the sword’s magic, certainly. It wants to be free. Its light beckons.

Such a beautiful weapon, its sable hilt simultaneously practical and lavishly crafted with fine details to draw the eye, its guard fearsome and predatory, bearing a lovely gem like an unblinking crimson eye, the light of its blade an enchanting and indescribable color.

The knight discards her old weapon in an instant. She reaches for the sword. Her fingers brush against it, gentle and reverent, before wrapping around the hilt—feeling its weight, its strange and comforting warmth—grasping it firmly and pulling it from its ancient prison.

Swinging the blade through the air, it feels like no other sword she ever wielded. Its power courses through her sword arm, filling her muscles with exhilarating strength.

A wispy thread wends its way into her mind, and she shivers with the first glimmer of understanding.

The knight was a hero once.

But as she strides away from that ancient gaol, she doesn’t feel like a hero. The sword has changed her. With its power crackling through her body, she is more powerful than she ever was before.

Better than a hero. An unstoppable threat.

---

The threat is here. Eira knows this with the same certainty as she knows which way the sun rises in the morning. Her dreams have slowly been taken over by nightmares—dread visions of blood and chaos and terror and awful, sadistic laughter.

She puts her faith in the brave champion who has not yet returned. She prays for a miracle to come in the form of her bold and beautiful knight bearing the glowing sword spoken of in legend, the one she only catches glimpses of in her prophetic dreams.

That sword must be the key to victory. Her heart tells her so.

Still, the threat is here, and the princess has heard no news of her hero. What news she receives from her messengers is terrible. Knights lost, soldiers slaughtered, the Westfall outpost razed to the ground. Time is running out for the kingdom.

Sounds of shouting jolt Eira from her rumination. She hears the clashing of swords and the screams of dying guards. The castle is under attack, and it sounds like the assailant is getting closer. Glancing out the window, a trail of destruction littered with armored bodies confirms her worst fears. The threat isn’t just here, it’s right here.

With one last—all too close—wet thump, the violence ends. There is no time to think, no time to fear, before the door slams open to the princess’s personal chambers.

Eira glares toward the doorway, but defiance flickers and fights with a sudden, confused spark of hope. She recognizes the woman looming in the door frame, with her raven hair and piercing eyes. Half the knight’s armor is missing, and her wild grin, a predator’s sharp and feral baring of teeth, is out of place, but the princess could never fail to recognize the woman who seized her attention from the moment she laid eyes on her.

Her eyes fall to the shining sword of legend, now dripping with the blood of royal guardsmen. There is no mistaking the blade from her dreams. Her hero won the power to vanquish her foes, but this is not the outcome the princess hoped for. All of this is wrong!

“Leora…” the princess begins, then falters, momentarily at a loss for words. “What have you done?”

The knight approaches slowly, radiating a menacing power that grips Eira’s heart with ice-cold fear.

“I’ve done exactly as I was commanded, your majesty,” she says, her voice like bared steel, sending shivers down the princess’s spine. “The power of the sword is mine, and now there is no enemy who can stand in my way.” With a flourish, she brandishes the blade. “Just as we planned, right?”

The princess shakes her head in disbelief. “But my guards… those soldiers you killed…”

“Loyal to the king, not to you,” the knight replies.

The princess can’t help but notice—and not for the first time—just how much the other woman towers over her. She swallows a lump in her throat, taking a step backward, feeling the wall behind her blocking further retreat.

“Are you loyal to me, then?” Her heart pounds in her chest with something more than just fear. “Will you hear me if I command you to put down that sword? There must be some fell curse upon it, and—”

Leora’s booming laughter interrupts the princess, making her shrink back involuntarily. “Your majesty, you don’t understand at all. This sword’s gifts have made me unstoppable.” She takes a step closer, and there is a manic, dangerous light in her eyes as she speaks. “With a swing of my blade, I slay lesser soldiers by the dozen. They fall to me like paper dolls. Would you truly have me set aside this power? Would you set aside this power if it were in your grasp?”

The princess feels a quiver of something like excitement at the thought. She always lived a life circumscribed by the demands of her role and the edicts of her father. Leora must once have been similar in her own role as knight, she realizes, but it’s clear that her terrifying new power grants her near limitless freedom to pursue her every desire. In spite of everything, she finds herself acknowledging a certain allure in that.

“If I don’t understand, then make me understand,” Eira begs, her stomach a knot of confusion and despair, her heart hoping for some explanation for what has become of her hero. “Tell me about this power.”

The knight’s eyes brighten with eagerness. She tells the story about the razing of Westfall, growing more animated the longer she speaks. The princess leans forward in rapt attention, absorbing the tale of her battle. Although, the princess thinks to herself, it sounds less like a battle than an absolute slaughter. Leora shows no remorse and leaves out no detail of her bloody conquest, painting a picture of a battlefield covered in gore, bodies strewn wherever they fell, even describing the screams of the wounded and dying as music to her ears.

Whenever Eira heard stories of great battles before, they were always described as viscerally horrifying. Not at all like this, with such fascinating hunger filling the knight’s rich, dark eyes. There’s a strange thrill to hearing Leora’s words, describing something so terrible with such naked pleasure.

“My every swing felled an enemy, cutting through armor as easily as flesh.” The knight closes her eyes for a moment in relish. “But it goes beyond strength; my speed has increased tenfold. No, more! I cannot describe the feeling in mere words, princess, of reaping men as easily as wheat. They might as well have been standing still, baring their necks in surrender.”

How frightened they must have been, set upon as they were by this perfect warrior. The princess unconsciously tilts her head slightly, exposing her own neck to Leora, imagining the tip of that blade at her throat, the slow bite of cold steel reminding her of her own mortality, the wicked pleasure on Leora’s face as it sinks into her vulnerable flesh and brings a hot, wet flood spilling down her chest…

She forcibly shakes herself out of the scene, returning to the present moment.

“The bodies of all those people…” The princess licks her parched lips, her voice quiet and thin, nearly a whisper. “When you looked and saw what you did to them, how did you feel?”

The knight’s grin widens. “It was a sight to behold. Severed limbs, mangled torsos, bodies broken and bent in ways they could never survive. Blood slicked the ground. The stench of death was everywhere. It was a massacre.” She comes closer, her voice losing some of its boisterous tone and taking on an intimate quality. “It was art, and that battlefield was my canvas. I felt unstoppable. Without a scratch on myself, what else could I feel but exaltation in my own power?”

The princess shudders, imagining the scene, both repelled and drawn in by the vivid description of mass murder. “No wonder the legends spoke of the sword as such a powerful artifact. It is fearsome indeed.”

The knight is not finished. She continues with barely restrained passion, describing yet more killing in her assault on the outpost. It seems her true goal was the knight-commander stationed there—a woman the princess remembers as proud and austere—who had apparently, years ago, done Leora a great wrong. An unforgivable crime, the princess agrees, and she takes a grim satisfaction in hearing of her champion’s revenge.

Gods, if she’s honest with herself, it’s more than grim satisfaction, she can feel the heat flooding her cheeks. She can’t help how her face flushes upon hearing how Leora used her bare hands to do it. Thumbs in the eye sockets, the knight applying enough force to crush a woman’s skull like an overripe melon.

The satisfaction of licking her hands clean afterward.

There can be no more doubt. Leora, the tall and dashing knight, her chosen champion and the long-secret subject of her longing, is the evil the princess has spent years planning to fight. Yet now that the knight is here, having become the threat she was always fated to be, the princess finds herself a prisoner of her own desire, torn between horror and shameful, perverse admiration.

She could never, not in a hundred lifetimes, pit herself against Leora.

Eira’s breathing is heavy, her hands trembling with an excitement she fears to name. Her eyes drift to the sword in Leora’s hand.

The larger woman catches the direction of her gaze, taking another step closer until the princess can feel her hot breath on her cheek.

Leora’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “You want to feel the same power, don’t you?” she asks, brushing a strand of hair from Eira’s face with her free hand. “You want to hold someone’s life in your hands, to snuff it out on a whim, to take what you want without consequence.”

Their faces are so close, she can smell the taller woman’s sweat. Those piercing eyes seem to peer down into her very soul, leaving no room to hide.

The princess nods, unable to deny the truth lurking deep down inside. She wants to feel the elation, the rush that the knight describes, even while part of her screams that she shouldn’t want this, that it’s evil, that something very wrong is happening here.

“I…don’t know if I can do this,” she says, her voice wavering and uncertain.

“You can, my dear,” the knight responds, her hand cupping Eira’s face, eyes suddenly burning with a possessive fire. “You just need to be brave enough to take the first step, and the sword and I will handle the rest. Let me show you the pleasure of destruction and domination.”

Eira loses her grip on herself, giving in to Leora’s irresistible magnetism. She leans forward, pressing her lips to the knight she wanted from the very beginning.

The knight’s kiss is not soft and gentle, like she always imagined it might be. It’s fierce and punishing, bruising her lips with the force of her hunger. For all its lust, there is something cruel in the kiss, contemptuous of the princess’s all-too-human weakness. She whimpers, as unable to resist Leora’s inhuman strength as she is unwilling to try.

The knight’s tongue pushes its way past her lips, and as she welcomes it into her mouth, she tastes the first spark of energy leaping into her. A pleasant tingle rapidly intensifies to pinpricks, then to a raging inferno pouring from the other woman’s mouth into hers. She gulps it down greedily, even as it starts to feel like fire in her veins, as the sword’s malevolent power corrupts the magic of her bloodline into something altogether new and deadly.

She feels the cruelty and malice in the deluge, and she eagerly drowns herself in it until no fear remains, only twisted pleasure.

The kiss leaves Eira breathless and unsteady, but her newly enhanced magic, awakened to its true potential, thrums in her blood, aching for an opportunity to be unleashed against her enemies.

A whisper in the back of her mind sharpens her. The world comes into sudden focus, as though a veil has been lifted from her eyes. Her beloved knight was right, this world is filled with so many opportunities for conquest and domination. How did she fail to see it before?

She was weak, that much is clear. Afraid to wield her own magic for more than parlor tricks and divination. Afraid to pursue what she truly wanted. The princess looks her knight up and down, admiring the swell of her chest, her thick legs, those strong shoulders. Not anymore.

It is now clear to her that the sword is more than a mere artifact of great power. It speaks directly to her mind with its own intelligence and will, its own desires and goals. The blessings it grants also collars them both, binding them into servitude. She feels no resentment, however. She will happily serve as long as she still gets to take everything she desires.

Starting right now. The princess grips her champion by the collar, pulling her into another kiss with the force of a lifetime of pent-up need.

#Empty Spaces #corruption #violence and gore #my writing #Eira & Leora & The Cursed Sword

[frznkingdom]

“What in the world did I just come back to?”

“...I’m so confused.”

#[interrupting transmission; dash commentary] #[graceful soldier: eira] #[thread of hope: laurel] #they both woke up like: what?! #also yaaaay trying out eira's new faceclaim

[wintershieldedheart]

☆ Eira & Margot ☆

@hxrbingxr

DEV TEA ROOM: Mystery Lounge

Noir: Your muse had just snapped the last picture out the window of their parked car when they heard a shift in the leather of the backseat.

☆        as soon as she caught wind of hydra resurfacing, Margot had started digging. She knew it was too much to hope for that they’d been snuffed out entirely. The organization was a cockroach that refused to die, no matter how many times people went after them. Somewhere, there would always be someone that held those beliefs, and as long as that was the case, hydra would continue to rebuild itself. Still, that didn’t mean she had to let them exist peacefully, or even let them succeed. As such, she worked on tracking down the current members that were causing havoc. 

which was why she was currently sitting in a black, unmarked, unassuming four door while she trailed one of her suspects. Margot had a camera in one hand, taking pictures of both the surroundings and the suspect himself. She took a picture as he came into view in his window, just as the leather in the backseat of her car moved. Margot whipped around, knife in hand, ready to strike, only for her to quickly retract it. 

‘ what the fuck, Eira! I almost stabbed you. how long have you been back there? ‘ 

#( thread | eira. ) #( @hxrbingxr ) #( v; red n' dead. ) #rpcdev

[fatespins]

✔ sets Eira down here with a lil bow on her head

help a bitch out // @fairytaletold

My muse(s): well obviously she's already met riley hkfds ras would find her silly. jay loves everyone, weirdly i feel like dio would get along with her idk. anyone is fair game lbr

Do I know your muse(s):  yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protector - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other 

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

Feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!

#ooc #fairytaletold #she is very gorgeous to me . #“co-worker / roommate” U MEAN A PARTY MEMBER ??

[dcviated]

thinking a lot about Eira today thanks to Faze and Rae, and just in general I'm really glad at her continued Good Reception since for so many years I could not seem to pin down any good female OCs for one reason or another.

Still can't talk fashion or feminine things in threads to save my life, but she feels like a well realized character. :V

Eira really has been the first time I arguably Got It Right and it's through her that I've found myself writing other female characters. Look at Malkuth. Jesus.

#ooc :: post