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deputyash · 7 months

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OC Aesthetics for the Entities

Tagged by @deputy-morgan-malone to do this aesthetic tag game. Thank you!

Rules: Bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. Rest of the fears here. This is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

Tagging: @strafethesesinners @harmonyowl @derelictheretic @teamhawkeye @peachyaliien @ri-a-rose @redreart @statichvm @shellibisshe @glowwormsmith @fuckin-nancy @wrathfl @isobel-thorm @adelaidedrubman @blissfulalchemist @direwombat @jacobseed @v0idbuggy @wrathfulrook @mel-eficent @cassietrn @nightwingshero @beemot

Dove Ash (FC5)

i. THE BURIED. weighted blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil & sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes & tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust & sand speaking to you.

ii. THE CORRUPTION. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with that you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings & legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.

iii. THE DARK. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness & seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight. pouring dark. unscrewing lightbulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.

iv. THE DESOLATION. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.

v. THE FLESH. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance & appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

vi. THE END. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flat-lining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul & spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the pleas of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know & being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii. THE EYE. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colors. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t look away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyeurism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.

viii. THE HUNT. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide & seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks & growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark & running after it.

ix. THE LONELY. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realize they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

x. THE SLAUGHTER a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knife block on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

xi. THE SPIRAL sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish color. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes & tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

xii. THE STRANGER wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs & pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colors of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter & sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii. THE VAST. open spaces. carnival rides going up & down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles & miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky & feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

xiv. THE WEB. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak—willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realizing it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unreliability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs & fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

+ THE EXTINCTION. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

Izel of Baldur's Gate (BG3)

vi. THE END. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flatlining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul & spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the pleas of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know & being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

#These are a little tricky sometimes - I cant decide if it should be representing them or more so things relating to their story or fears #so I did a bit of it all lol #my ocs #deputyash's ocs #dove ash #izel

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ghostace · 7 months

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gw2 oc masterlist

something like the swtor one - a very brief, very non-exhaustive introduction to each

main crew:

pleurri - commander, priory, champion of aurene - mirage

asuran scholar turned priory researcher, after the colleges' back-stabbing and competition became less and less to her liking. frequently summons her own clones just to talk to, a socially anxious wreck that ended up in a position of leadership she was never meant for when mordremoth arose. with the care of aurene now her responsibility, she rose to the challenge and carried out the path of the champion.

taior voth - commander, vigil - firebrand

the dream always meant for him to be a leader, a protector, a healer, but fate had other plans. lost in the tangled depths after the destruction of the pact fleet, he took a back seat after a painful recovery. reunited after the destruction of the twin dragons, he and pleurri are more of one mind than ever - and they have each others' backs.

side characters:

kiyo kanai - whispers - daredevil & deadeye

criminal scum, street rat - they made many ill-advised choices before finally being caught. leveraging their skills, they negotiated a release to join the order of whispers, where they excelled - and were eventually admitted to the shining blade. with cantha reconnected, they're seeking out particular new interests in the region, including some personal questions as to their ancestry.

saga stormslayer - reaper

a shepherd in the shiverpeaks, away from civilization raising goats and dolyaks, saga led a quiet life until a svanir attack ended her life... and she reawoke, some days later, with new powers and the distant memory of someone in the mists sending her back. she and marad set out from their destroyed homestead to find the person who'd saved her, and try to figure out how she returned.

marad warweaver - specter

an ash legion elementalist, her magic began to wane, growing too unreliable to count upon. frustrated, she left, resigning her position and risking being branded a gladium, and went north where she met saga and the two formed a deep bond. with the help of the raven shaman, she was able to learn a new type of magic, but it wasn't enough when the svanir arrived. despite burying her, saga arose and brought with her more questions than answers, and a new focus for the two.

syvva vlok - renegade & herald

the mists were always an interest of hers, one that made her greatly successful - and always kept her pushing for more. when an experiment led to her falling into the mists, she had to quickly learn to survive with the aid of a long-dead charr warband. manipulating the mists came easily to her, and more than once she sent back wayward spirits, not knowing she was returning them to tyria. her eventual escape landed her in the crystal desert, but in her time away much has changed - and she's in for a rude awakening.

marsus ruincatcher - spellbreaker

blood legion aren't typically known for their intellect, but marsus was perhaps an exception. tired of the battlefield, he joined the priory and devoured the knowledge there, becoming both a stalwart protector and a keen mind in the fight against the dragons. when his wounds from mordremoth's attack never fully healed, he took on the role of caretaker instead - looking out for other wounded pact soldiers, and living a more peaceful existence.

[tbd]

julian frei - elementalist

a healer by trade, the vigil soldier was left to try and keep as many alive as he could when the pact fleet fell. struggling with the effort and the memories, he spends most of his time drowning his mind or following after marsus. aimless, he finds a hint of purpose when an unfamiliar sylvari shows up on their doorstep.

calastris - scrapper & mechanist

she awoke on the run, halfway out of the depths of the maguuma jungle, the echo of a dangerous voice in her mind. straight across tyria, she built tools and weapons from scraps, trying to place as much distance between herself and the remnants of the voice, until she ran into marsus and julian deep in ascalon. clothing and feeding the sapling, they found the odd sylvari doesn't speak and avoids eye contact - but with her contraptions, determination to learn, and an unexpected cheerfulness, she manages to communicate regardless.

ahnwyl - untamed

what do you do when your dream is about someone else? left aimless after fulfilling his purpose, and bitter that his entire existence is meant for someone who doesn't want him, he trails after dragon's watch, causing as many problems as he clears.

dexion theta - holosmith

an inquest experiment in cloning turned sideways when he escaped, one of many copies set himself loose upon the world. injured in the escape but smart enough to take care of himself, dexion took to freedom with enthusiasm - and a particular love of setting things on fire.

[tbd]

fable frostsong - bladesworn

[tbd]

nameless victor - willbender

#gw2 things #ok bye i'm done

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solarisgod · 5 months

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TEST THE CHROME , SICK LIKE ROSE / WHEN THEY BITE MY HANDS , BUT THEY NEVER COME CLOSE / FALL LIKE LEAVES , I LAY MY PEACE / GOTTA UP THAT DOSE , HOW MY STOCK INCREASE ALONE / SEED DON'T GROW / FEED 'EM LIKE LEECHES , SINK 'EM LIKE STONES / BREEDING MY THESIS , TREAT 'EM LIKE DRONES / DREAM IT LIKE WE STILL SAVING A SOUL / HEAD DOWN , SPIN IT / LET THE FACE GO & DISSIPATE LIKE CIGARETTE ASH / YOU'RE FALLING HEAD DOWN , GO ERASED / NO MEDIC HERE WHEN YOU CRASHED / YOU'RE PUSHING TARMAC / FADE TO BLACK WHEN I BE TASTING THE MAG / YOU'RE FULL OF METAL / ALL PRETEND , GOING DENSE , ON A LEASH JUST LIKE A BITCH / O V E R D R I V E N , OFTEN OVER DAYS / YOU WANNA SAY YOU CALL IT QUITE / TAKE ANOTHER BITE , I WANNA TASTE ALL THAT YOU PLACE UPON MY LIP / NEW PARTS LIKE A STAKE THROUGH THE HEART / AS SOON AS TOMORROW IF I EVER SLIP / I'LL LEAVE IT ALL UP IN YOUR HEAD / & I WILL S W I M RIGHT IN / I STILL WANT IT ALL / I'LL EVEN DROWN , I FEEL ALONE / I FEEL AROUND INSIDE YOUR MIND / EVEN MY EYES CAN SEE Y O U

#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ SOUNDTRACK . ›#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ PHOBOS . ›#[ oh yeah this song also fucks so hard Sun and I have been listening to this so constantly as well ]#[ Phobos loves this kind of music ; this song would be part of its s.ex music playlist tbh <3 ]

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rg060295 · 8 months

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This list includes a list of 5 anthologies coming out between now, and the end of the year! I am based in the UK and therefore all dates and relevant links I have found reflect this!

In These Hallowed Halls: A Dark Academia Anthology

Published by Titian Books on September 12th

Look I have not really enjoyed any dark academia I have read, nor have read from any of these authors so this is a risky choice. However, this is the season for dark academia and I am intrigued. This collection of 12 stories includes well known authors of the genre (sub genre?) Olivie Blake & M.L. Rio as well as David Bell, Susie Yang, Layne Fargo, J.T. Ellison, James Tate Hill, Kelly Andrew, Phoebe Qynne, Kate Weinberg, Helen Grant & Tori Bovalino.

Goodreads // Storygraph // Amazon //

Peach Pit

Published by Dzanc Books on September 12th

A collection of 16 stories about and following unlikeable, unhinged and monstrous women. Which basically sums up some of my favourite types of short story collections. With story description makes it sound similar to other collections such as Out There with a bit of Cursed Bunny. Edited by Molly Llewllyn and Kristel Buckly featuring stories from; Lauren Groff, Deesha Philyaw, K-Ming Chang, Megan Giddings, Sarah Rose Etter, Chaya Bhuvaneswar, Alicia Elliott, Chana Porter, Alice Ash, Maisy Card, Vanessa Chan, Chantal V. Johnson, Amada Leduc, Alison Rumfitt, Yah Yah Scholfield & Aliya Whitely.

Goodreads // Storygraph // Amazon //

Mermaids Never Drown

Published by Titian Press (UK) / Feiwel & Friends (US) on September 26th

From the team behind Vampires Never Get Old (which you may know about from the Story ‘First Kill’ which became a Netflix show) comes a second Young Adult collection exploring mermaids. Edited again by Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker and featuring many well known and beloved YA authors such as Darcie Little Badger, Kalynn Bayron, Preeti Chhibber, Rebecca Coffindaffer, Julie C. Dao, Maggie Tokuda-Hall, Adriana Herrera, June Hur, Katherine Locke, Kerri Maniscalco, Julie Murphy, Gretchen Schreiber, and Julian Winters. I am particularly excited to see Darcie Little Badger who I have loved both their long work (Elatose) and their short fiction (in Love Beyond Body Space and Time) and also I am intrigued by June Hur who I have only read Historical mystery work from so this will be a different spin.

Goodreads // Storygraph // Amazon //

Out There Screaming: An Anthology of New Black Horror

Published by Random House on October 3rd

An anthology I surprisingly only found out about when putting together this list. Out There Screaming is a collection of stories edited by writer and director Jordan Peele. It is an anthology of ‘all-new stories of Black horror, exploring not only the terrors of the supernatural but the chilling reality of injustice that haunts our nation. Alongside an introduction from Jordan Peele it also features stories by Erin E. Adams, Violet Allen, Lesley Nneka Arimah, Maurice Broaddus, Chesya Burke, P. Djèlí Clark, Ezra Claytan Daniels, Tananarive Due, Nalo Hopkinson, N.K. Jemisin, Justin C. Key, L.D. Lewis, Nnedi Okorafor, Tochi Onyebuchi, Rebecca Roanhorse, Nicole D. Sconiers, Rion Amilcar Scott, Terence Taylor, and Cadwell Turnbull.

Goodreads // Storygraph // Amazon // Libro.fm //

The Book of Witches

Published by HarperVoyager on August 1st (US) and October 26th (UK)

Edited by Jonathan Strahan the editor from The Book of Dragons and featuring art from artist Alyssa Winans throughout This is large collection focusing around witches featuring 29 stories and poems from well known contemporary SFF authors; Linda Addison, C.L. Clark, P Djeli Clark, Indrapramit Das, Amal El Mohtar, Andrea Hairston, Millie Ho, Saad Hossain, Kathleen Jennings, Alaya Dawn Johnson, Cassandra Khaw, Fonda Lee, Darcie Little Badger, Ken Liu, Usman T. Malik, Maureen F. McHugh, Premee Mohamed, Garth Nix, Tobi Ogundiran, Tochi Onyebuchi, Miyuki Jane Pinckard, Kelly Robson, Angela Slatter, Andrea Stewart, Emily Teng, Sheree Renée Thomas, Tade Thompson, and E. Lily Yu. This is a must pick up for me for two reasons, I enjoyed reading The Book of Dragons last year, and found some new favourite short stories, and two it includes some of my favourite authors. So even if I only enjoy their stories this would be a win for me!

Goodreads // Storygraph // Amazon // Libro.fm //

#my posts #my tbr

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marshmallowprotection · 8 months

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I'm listening to a song I found from one of your playlists, I think it was your Unknown one

The song "Cover Me In Roses" sounds like it would be a song that played through Ray's head as the bombs time ticked down in V's route and thinking about it makes me feel emotions

Take me in your tender arms, roll me in the dirt Cover me in roses, cover me in pearls And then when the sun sets low, roll me in the dirt Cover me in roses, cover me in pearls Cover me in roses, cover me in pearls I never believed in love Oh, they tease you with the kiss, they'll tease you with the tongue Oil on leather, brown eyes to stone Oh, they lead you to the water, and they leave you there to drown They're gonna leave you there to drown

Oh, truly, I love that song and I love spreading it across his playlists. I believe it's on a few of his playlists, mostly the painful ones where his love isn't complete, like Unknown, SE Saeran, and VAE Ray/Saeran... I mean, we should cry about the fact that his love was unrequited... it is painful to watch him self-destruct and reach this conclusion. I will admit I've never thought about this one for the bomb scene, actually, the aftermath where V finds him in the rubble.

He's covered in the dirt and soot but by God, if someone drew with flowers surrounding him instead of the building chunks and all of the ash... I'd sob.

#themusicwecryto #ask #mod kait #simplearcticfoxes

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scarletenchantis · 3 years

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calmly evil

you chose your path fully aware of what it entails. you're the suave villain, unflappable, smooth as silk. you're capable of cruelty without breaking your facade, and live with the consequences without hesitation. when you die, you're surprised. through all of your planning and posturing, you had forgotten that you too were mortal. but even as life slips through your fingers, you manage that smile. that same smile.

Stole from the dash

#dash games #ooc #oof #villain verse #Villain!Suzu #V: Drowned in roses and ashes

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itskatastrophe-x · 3 years

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Far Off Places (CH 1)

Overview , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2

Word Count : 2,487

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

Pain. That was the only thing you knew. The only thing you felt. Not just physically, but emotionally. Your kingdom had been doing so well. You had everything. It was all right there in the palm of your hands for years. All of that had been undone in a matter of minutes as lava poured from the sky and bombs went off under the surface. After fighting for so long, your advisors told you to run. Start fresh in a new place. Find new friends and live a normal life. What even was normal? You had lived in the spotlight for so long, ruling over the same people, the same faces, the same memories. This kingdom was all you knew, and now it was being burned to the ground.

You kept running, tripping over your own feet and branches as you went, your breath catching in your throat every few seconds, making you feel like you were drowning on land. The smoke from the fires wafted through the trees, burning your lungs and stinging your eyes. Your cheeks were red and puffy from crying for the past couple hours, the bitter wind chilling them. You only stopped once going up a large hill about half a mile outside the city walls, and then again once you reached the top. You collapsed roughly to your knees at the base of a tree, hunching over and putting a hand against said tree to keep your balance. You spluttered and coughed violently from all the smoke you inhaled and doubled over in pain, scrunching your nose and closing your eyes tight. The distant sounds of fire crackling and wooden supports crashing to the ground echoed around you through the valley. You recomposed yourself and slowly brought yourself to stand, still leaning against the tree so you wouldn’t immediately fall over from the burning sensation in your legs.

You stood there with your back facing the mess for what felt like hours, but was probably only a couple minutes. Part of you wanted to turn around. The other part wanted to keep running. So you stood there. The sounds making you sob harder, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not yet. This was your home. How were you supposed to just let this happen? How did this even happen in the first place. You couldn’t remember making any enemies, so who could have done it? A neighboring country? You highly doubted that. You were hundreds of miles away from anyone else, your kingdom was basically hidden away in a valley between mountains, making it extremely hard to get to.

Time kept passing and the roar of thunder washed over you slowly, lightning flashing in the far off distance over the mountains. The setting sun finally dipped below the horizon and the fires blazing harshly behind you cast the scenery in a dim red glow. To say the scene before you was beautiful was a sin, and yet you enjoyed looking at all the colors laid out in front of you. You just wished that it wasn’t caused by your home being torn apart. You grieved all the lost, innocent lives that were taken. All the time and memories, now all ash and dust to be forgotten. For all you knew, you were the only one that survived the massacre, though you hoped that wasn’t the case.

You finally brought yourself to a solid standing position and pushed off the tree, steeling yourself as you turned to face your city in paradise. The sight was horrific, and somehow the smell had gotten worse upon turning to face the blaze. Lava flowed from the city walls and scorched the surrounding bushes and trees, the buildings were undistinguishable, and the castle way off in the distance was missing chunks as it continued to burn. Rustling around you alerted you to animals evacuating their homes as well. You were glad they could at least make it out. The smoke rose into the sky and danced with the clouds, a beautifully terrifying kaleidoscope of red, orange, and grey. The wind was getting harder, sending spirals off the sides to dissipate in seconds. Thunder cracked again and finally the sky started to cry alongside you and your own tears. It started as a drizzle as you turned on your heels and lowered your head to check your bag. Two golden apples, a loaf of bread, a couple fish, a notebook with a quill and ink, and a torch at the bottom. You pulled the hood of your cape up over your head and tore off a piece of the loaf and started to nibble on it as you moved yourself forward into the night, leaving the ruins of your homeland behind you to fall to the ground and be lost to time. Where would you go? You had no other family, knew no other rulers, and didn’t know what laid beyond the mountains.

Your trek through the thick foliage was slow and grueling. The wind had picked up, sending violent ice-spike-like raindrops to attack your face and arms, soaking through your torn and dirtied clothes. You were thankful it was the middle of summer and overall a warm night, but the wind mixed with the rain had chilled you to the bone, sending shivers to wrack your whole body every couple of minutes. You had a large diamond axe on your hip as well as a bow and a few arrows slung across your back. The only things that remained of your homeland. The light glow from the axe and bow from the enchantments being the only light in the dark jungle.

You had been running for miles before you decided it was time to sit and rest and possibly try to get some sleep somewhere. Luckily you had the knowledge on how to survive in the wilderness despite being locked behind walls all your life, so you stopped to scout out a safe area to set up a small base. In the dark you made your way to a smaller tree and started chopping, tightening your grip on your axe so the rain wouldn’t make you lose your grip. It took roughly two hours to collect all the necessary materials to build a small tent-looking structure, but it was good enough to sleep on and safe enough from the hostile creatures that lurked. You fought off a couple zombies on your endeavor, but nothing too serious. You took off your torn up cape and laid it on the ground to sleep on and set your axe and bow next to where your head should rest, bringing your book, quill, ink, and torch out and setting up to write.

Journal Entry : New World 1

Today, my empire was lost. I don’t know where to go or what I’m even looking for, but I hope to find someone or something to help me along my way. It’s been raining for hours and the sun should be up soon, but I still haven’t slept, as I have been running all night. I’ve set up a small structure to keep me safe for the time being. I don’t know where I am and the surroundings all look the same to me. I don’t understand what went wrong. Hopefully someday I can go back and investigate when I feel like I’m safe from whatever or whoever set my kingdom ablaze. For now I should rest, but I doubt that will happen with all the thoughts and questions running through my head.

You set the supplies back into your bag and break off another piece of your bread. Soon enough you’ll have to go hunting for more food. You’d rather save the apples for when you truly need them and you still had two fish, but you had half the bread you started with and you had no idea where you were or how close the next village or kingdom was. You sighed and bit into the bread, cringing as it was slightly hardened from being in your open bag for so long. You prayed the fish would last until you needed it as you laid down and put out the torch. You listened to the rain coming to a light drizzle again and chuckled at the timing. Of course it would stop raining only when you were in a shelter to protect you from it. You closed your eyes and drifted into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep. It only lasted about four hours, but it was enough to get you through the day.

The sun glared down on your small shelter, heating you up and making you extremely uncomfortable. The sky had cleared up and it seemed to have just gotten past sunrise, as the sun was just coming over the tops of the mountains. You groaned as you sat up, the pain from running all night finally catching up to you as sweat dripped from your brow. You cursed the summer heat and wished that it was raining again, so that you might get a break from the sun. How did it manage to break through all of the surrounding trees and hit your little home so perfectly? It didn’t make any sense. Within a few minutes, you knew, it would be off the shack and onto the tree behind it, but for now the heat was unbearable. You packed up all your things, rung out your cape and shook it off, and exited the structure, ready to set off again. You looked around to try to get a sense of where you should go, and eyed up a path clearly made by travelling animals. You adjusted the bow and arrows on your back and went to the nearest tree to cut off a good sized branch to use as a walking stick to ease the pain in your legs.

Hours pass by, and then days. You feel like you’re walking in circles at this point, but the only thing keeping you on your path is the rise and fall of the sun. The jungle had changed into a spruce forest and the weather had cooled down immensely. You had heard of this happening in different regions but had never experienced it for yourself, so the new terrain and chilly air came as a shock. Off in the distance you could see snow capped mountains and lights reflecting off of the white landscape in the dawn. You grabbed some pork from your bag and chomped down on it, stopping to get a good look at your surroundings and supplies. Two and a half days of walking, battles with mobs, hunting pigs for food, and sleeping on the dirt. All of that had finally lead to what looked like a small civilization in the distance. You sighed into your food, taking another bite as you peered into your bag at your book and quill. You decided to get both out and sat down against a tree, pork in your mouth as you set everything down.

Journal Entry : New World 2

Almost three whole days of walking. My kingdom is long behind me. Snow in the distance. The air has gone cold and dry as I get closer to this new, unfamiliar place. I’m worried that I won’t be welcome in this new place, but there’s nothing left to lose so I’ll keep pushing on. I don’t have much to offer aside from my skills and a couple golden apples. I just hope I won’t be attacked or turned away on sight. Maybe there’s no one there, but I doubt that.

You set the book and quill back in your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder and pushing yourself up, mentally preparing for this last leg of your journey. You had no idea what awaited you, and part of you didn’t want to know, but you knew that talking to locals might be your best option at finding somewhere to stay or maybe a direction you could go to start over. All you knew is that your legs now moved faster in nervous anticipation, the thought of a fireplace and a nice warm bed carrying you faster and faster, almost tripping down the hill in front of you numerous times.

Soon enough the woods gave way to the snowy expanse and you pulled your destroyed cape as close to you as you shivered. You got out your torch and lit it, keeping it close enough to you to keep you warm, but not close enough to burn or set anything on fire. You set off across the snow, cursing your torn up shoes that were very clearly not made for this kind of weather. You had lived, surrounded by jungles and hot, humid, sticky weather all your life. To say this was a shock was an understatement. Your clothes were not made for cold, and your body was not conditioned for it either. You cursed, wishing you had hunted down some wolves for fur before coming this far. You trip and fall in the foot of snow covering the ground, and you can see clouds in the distance with wisps falling from the undersides. It would snow again, and soon.

You picked yourself back up and trudged farther and faster, the houses in view now. There was smoke coming from the chimneys and the lights were on. You made out a house poking out of the side of the mountain farther past them, black cats running around in the snow, kicking up snow in the process as they tackled each other. In a matter of minutes, you made it across the large field, your breath coming out in puffs, visible in the sunrise as it peeked over the trees. There were two houses side by side, a shack full of dogs next to the one closest to you, and farther to your right was a pen full of cows. The dogs went up in an uproar as you neared the houses. You mentally cursed yourself for getting so close, seeing as they had obviously alerted the people inside the buildings. The cats now standing nearby, watching you closely as you made your way slowly.

The curtains in one of the houses shuffled and then a door was heard opening, a loud sound emitting from the hinges as it was thrown open and a man with wings came out in a hurry, blankets spilling over his arms. And that’s the moment exhaustion finally took over, black dots forming at the edges of your eyes before you finally fell into the lush snow, your torch falling from your hand, extinguishing upon impact. The man gasped and rushed himself faster to pick you up and wrap you in blankets before promptly lifting you and taking you into the house, setting you on the loveseat and alerting the other man in the house to help.

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laufire · 2 years

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[ID: playlist cover showing Meg and Castiel in episode 7x21 of Supernatural. The picture combines two images of them looking at each other in the hospital, after Castiel has referred to Meg saying "all that thorny pain, so beautiful", she tells him to "put up or shut up" and he smiles. The picture is edited to look like an old photograph, and includes the playlist's title in the middle: "6/6/6".]

6/6/6 - a Megstiel playlist

Created for the Megstiel Halloween Fest as a gift to @captain-sodapop. Playlist about Castiel and Meg's story, mainly centred in s7, in three parts: six songs for Castiel, six songs for Meg, and six duets.

Songs list & some lyrics under the cut.

*** CASTIEL'S SIDE ***

I. HEAD IS NOT MY HOME (MS MR).

This space is not my home This head you drowning is not my home Made it out and cut it out Take things slow as we may bruise To reach our unpredictable pass Your heart, your heart understand mine Found in forbidden nights Sharpest loud and place is quiet Know the promises we make Guard now and never again

II. UNLIKELY ANGEL (DOLLY PARTON).

Like the Phoenix From the ash and dirt I rose up from the pain and hurt When I was at my very worst I found you

III. HONEY (HALSEY).

But she stings like she means it She's mean and she's mine

Between my fingers She leaves then she lingers If she's gonna go Well then I'm going with her And I know that I won't forget

IV. HEAVEN FOR EVERYONE (QUEEN).

In this world of cool deception Just your smile can smooth my ride These troubled days of cruel rejection, hmm You come to me, soothe my troubled mind

[...]

Listen - what people do to other souls They take their lives - destroy their goals Their basic pride and dignity Is stripped and torn and shown no pity When this should be heaven for everyone

V. OH, MAKER (JANELLE MONÁE).

Suffering in sinking sand All the hurt See I'm really lost baby We suffered a rare, rare blue So much hurt On this earth But you loved me And I really dared to love you too Perhaps what I mean to say is Is that it's amazing that your love was mine

VI. GOING TO HELL (THE PRETTY RECKLESS).

Father did you miss me? I've been locked up a while. I got caught for what I did but took it all in style. Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when. Now I'm versed in so much worse, So I am back again. And he said

For the lines that I take, I'm going to hell! For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.

*** MEG'S SIDE ***

VII. WHAT KIND OF MAN (FLORENCE + THE MACHINE).

You're a holy fool all colored blue Red feet upon the floor You do such damage, how do you manage To have me crawling back for more?

And with one kiss And with one kiss You inspired a fire of devotion That lasts for twenty years For twenty years What kind of man loves like this?

VIII. MATCHES TO PAPER DOLLS (DESSA).

If you're asking, I can't say no Just one more chapter Our book won't close And I know it's madness To play these odds It's like giving matches to paper To paper dolls I know it's madness, I know

IX. FOREIGNER'S GOD (HOZIER).

I've no language left to say it But all I do is quake to her Breaking if I try convey it The broken love I make to her

All that I've been taught And every word I've got Is foreign to me

X. FOOL FOR YOU (ALICE SMITH).

I love him in and out and up and down and round and round and over and over again. So rare they swear that swear that you just don't exist. And its only one person I can think of that makes me feel like this.

I'm a fool, Such a fool, For Youuuuuu!

XI. ABOUT LOVE (MARINA DIAMANDIS).

My head gets messy when I try to hide The things I love about you in my mind

I don't really know a lot about love A lot about love, a lot about love But you're in my head, you're in my blood And it feels so good, it hurts so much

XII. CHASING PAVEMENTS (AITANA COVER).

Should I give up? Or should I just keep chasin' pavements Even if it leads nowhere? Or would it be a waste Even if I knew my place? Should I leave it there? Should I give up? Or should I just keep chasin' pavements Even if it leads nowhere?

*** DUETS ***

XIII. FEVER (DUA LIPA, ANGÈLE).

Before you came around, I was doing just fine Usually, usually, usually, I don't pay no mind And when it came down, I was looking in your eyes Suddenly, suddenly, suddenly, I could feel it inside

XIV. ISLANDS IN THE STREAM (DOLLY PARTON, KENNY ROGERS).

Baby, when I met you There was peace unknown I set out to get you With a fine tooth comb I was soft inside There was something going on

XV. AS LONG AS YOUR'E MINE (IDINA MENZEL, LEO NORBERT BUTZ).

Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise But you've got me seeing through different eyes Somehow I've fallen under your spell And somehow I'm feeling it's up that I fell

XVI. DANCE WITH YOU (LIVE, ANOUK).

The stillness in your eyes convinces me that I I don't know a thing and I been around the world and I've tasted all the wines a half a billion times came sickened to your shores you show me what this life is for

XVII. PERFECT FOR YOU (JENNIFER DAMIANO, ADAM CHANLER-BERAT).

The world is at war Filled with death and disease We dance on the edge of destruction The globe's getting warmer by deadly degrees And this is one fucked up seduction This planet is pretty much broken beyond all repair But one thing is working if you're standing there

XVIII. COME RAIN OR COME SHINE (FRANK SINATRA, GLORIA STEFAN).

You're gonna love me like nobody's loved me Come rain or come shine We'll be happy together, unhappy together Now won't that be just fine?

#megstiel #Megstiel Halloween Fest #Megstiel Halloween Fest 2021 #megcas #megmastersedit #castieledit #supernatural #spnedit #spncreatorsdaily #meg masters #castiel #tvcentric #music #filmtv #userthing #cinematv #femalescharacters #captioned

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

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Too Far Gone

Sith!Kylo x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, P IN V, lightsaber fighting, mention of death, temple destruction NSFW 18+

Summary: You were there, as a Padawan of Luke’s. You saw what happened to the Temple, buried your friends and mourned everything you had known. You went to start a new life, hide who you were. You got caught up with Smugglers until something made you join the Resistance. You and your best friend Poe Dameron get tied up in some daring missions snooping for intel on the First Order until finally you get caught by Kylo Ren and you realise who he really is.....

Art by the beautiful and talented @clumsycopy!

Read Chapter 1 here on AO3.

@themuseic @slutsofren @daydreamsofren @clumsycopy @paper-n-ashes @kkysolo if anyone else wants tagging in future let me know!

Your lightsabers clashed together, the white and blue connecting with a shower of sparks, the noise of their crackling drowned everything else out. The crossed sabers lit up his brown eyes as they grew wide in shock and you felt a thrill. You were winning. You had him flat on his back, both hands on his weapon as he blocked you, your arms began to shake from the strain but you wouldn’t give in, not for a second.

Then something changed, a cold sensation trickled down your spine, like someone had lazily run a finger down it. The shock in his eyes disappeared and was replaced with something else, they flashed and you swear they looked red in the reflecting light. With a yell he heaved you off him with the sheer might of his massive frame and the Force. It blasted you full on in the chest and you spun with the momentum ending up on the floor, your saber deactivated as it rolled away from you. The heat from the blue saber was at your cheek and you flinched, he wouldn’t? You were just training, and he had clearly bested you again.

‘Padawan, put your saber down.’ You rolled over staring at the point of the laser blade as he stood over you.

‘Ben….’ the sound of your voice seemed to bring him out of whatever trance he was in and you were relieved to hear the blade retracting, to be replaced with his hand. You gratefully accepted and he pulled you up grinning, his dark hair fell into his eyes and he subconsciously flicked it to the side.

‘Good fight?’ His deep voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but smile back.

‘You had me going there for a second,’ you said punching his shoulder gently. A look crossed his face, a fleeting shadow but you were sure it was a trick of the dimming light.

‘That concludes today’s training session, I suggest you all get some rest.’ You and the rest of the Padawans bowed as Master Luke left the group. Talk erupted around you, yours and Ben’s fights always drew the attention of every other person at the temple because you were the only one to even come close to defeating him. You never did, but you came close. You looked at his broad retreating back and you couldn’t help but think something had been different today. You shook off the others making some excuse and you jogged after Ben as he slipped into the trees. You paused, you knew how much of a solitary person he was but the cold sensation was something new and it needed to be talked about. You made sure you weren’t being followed before vanishing into the woodland after him.

It was dark and you were being so loud it was no surprise that he found you, grabbing your shoulders as you stumbled blindly.

‘Why are you out here?’ He shoved you slightly as he released you, the accusing tone in his voice made you hesitate.

‘Why are you out here?’ He sighed as you defensively repeated his question back at him.

‘Come on,’ he grabbed your hand and led you through the trees, picking the safest path for you both with ease until you happened upon a clearing. You thought it was a clearing until Ben stopped you walking any further. You gasped at the sheer drop just below your feet as you disturbed the earth and it trickled away into the void. ‘Steady,’ he murmured. Your eyes drank everything in, the dark sky was littered with glittering stars and the huge red surface of Yavin Prime loomed in the horizon. The sea of trees stretched out below you like a green carpet and you watched them ripple in the strong breeze that whipped the hair back from your face.

‘Ben this is beautiful.’

‘I meditate here,’ he pulled you down and you sat cross legged next to him, your hands on your knees as you looked over the nature filled scene before you. ‘I’ve been coming here a while, I’ve always wanted to show you but I didn’t think you’d come.’ You looked down as his fingers tentatively brushed against yours, you turned your hand over exposing the palm and you shivered as your hands clasped together. You often connected this way but it felt different, you turned to look at him to find his brown eyes already staring at you. They burned with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, something shifted inside you and you wriggled slightly your knees knocking his, the contact sent little shivers down your spine.

‘I would have come.’ Your voice was soft as your eyes roamed over his face taking in his plush lips, the freckles that dotted his broad features and the way his soft eyes looked intently at you. ‘You can trust me Ben.’ The wind blew again and you reached to tuck his hair behind his ear, slowly you trailed a finger down the ridge, they were as soft as you imagined. Ben’s hand rose to copy your movements, his hand trembled slightly as he dragged your hair away from your face. You wanted to kiss him desperately, but it was forbidden. You chewed your lower lip in frustration, Ben’s eyes were drawn to the motion and he gently swiped his thumb over your mouth. His lips parted as his breath hitched, you shifted slightly your knees knocking his again both your hands gripped each other tightly as you tensed your hand on the side of his face. His large hand covered your cheek, his fingers digging into your hair and you had to bite back a moan at the sensation.

‘Ben…’ it was barely a whisper but his name dropping from your lips shifted something in him, he pulled your face to his and you clashed together, your hot mouths teasing each other. He groaned loudly, his mouth open against your skin as you fisted your fingers in his dark hair. Both your eyes were shut as your chests heaved the tension building between you as you both realised you shouldn’t be doing this. But the ache between your legs clouded your judgement, you needed him. All of him.

Before you could react his hands grabbed you pulling you onto his lap, your lips connected awakening a feverish need in you both, his large hands spread across your back as he pressed you against the expanse of his broad chest, your hands clutched his face your tongues sliding over each other with lustful intent. Quickly, his hands undid your robes before working his open to allow your feverish naked skin to meet. It was better than you had ever imagined as you ran your hands over his muscles, his hands explored you, gently squeezing your breasts causing you to gasp into his mouth, his hips bucking up into you. His breathing was loud in your ears as he slipped a hand into the waistband of your pants, at first he was hesitant until you whined and ground against him urging him to touch you. You heard his breath catch as he felt your slick for the first time, his long fingers exploring every inch of you. He listened to the noises you made so he knew where the best place to touch you was, and then he found your opening. The moan ripped from your throat as you sunk onto his fingers, your walls fluttering and gripping him tightly. He expelled a loud breath as you writhed against him wanting more from him and demanding he give it to you.

The air rushed out of your lungs as he pushed you off him and onto the ground, his heavy frame pinning you down as he lay his entire length on top of you. You could feel his hardness as he pushed into the soft flesh of your inner thigh a moan rumbling out of his chest as his hands smoothed the hair away from your face. You spread your legs and you almost sobbed when the hardness of his cock nudged against your core. You were burning, and he was the only one who could satisfy you. Your rolled your hips and he murmured something against your mouth as he tugged at your pants.

‘What?’ You panted, pulling away from him. His eyes were dark as they stared at you.

‘I said off. I want you naked right now.’ You clenched at the gruffness in his voice, a deep gravel tinged with lust, his movements sure and swift as he stripped you, leaving you bare to his roaming gaze. He took a breath to steady himself as he shed his own robes, you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he knelt above you, his hair falling into his eyes, the light of the night bathing him with an ethereal glow.

He came back to you with a huff, his arms caging you in as he kissed your neck and collarbone slowly, each nip and lick he gave you sent your fever to new heights. You reached down and grabbed his length in your hand, his eyes fluttered at the contact and he tensed as he watched you wearily, you wondered if anyone had ever been this close to him or if it was just you he trusted enough. It was in that moment you realised you loved him, this man hovering above you baring himself fully to you.

‘Ben,’ you needed to tell him, he had to know how you felt but the words wouldn’t come. Slowly his hips lowered, the tip of his cock pushing against your wet folds sending a jolt up your body. He didn’t hesitate, he pushed himself inside you, splitting you on him as he gently sheathed himself. You felt so full, every movement you made sent bolts of pleasure coursing through you. You raised your legs up either side of his hips, your hands sliding down to knead the soft flesh of his backside. You felt like you couldn’t breath as he slowly dragged himself back out, his eyes watching you the whole time, his hand cupping the top of your head as he rested on his elbows. You arched your back at the feeling of emptiness down below. Your eyes rose to meet his as he whispered your name, you cried out as he pounded back into you, your head rolling on the floor as the feeling of pure bliss flooded your body.

He set a relentless pace, grunting softly with the exertion as he worked hard to bring you to the point of no return. Your mouth opened wide as you tried to drag fresh air into your lungs but your entire body was tensing as you felt the build up low in your belly.

His hot mouth sucked on your nipple and you twitched against him, you could feel the edges of your orgasm as it hurtled towards you, slamming into your body with a loud cry. He shoved his fingers in your mouth to muffle your noises as he worked you through, your walls gripped him tightly and you felt him falter in his pace as he too found his release, painting your insides with his warm fluid as it gushed from him with a shout. He lazily finished inside you, his mouth sloppily kissing you as he came back to himself. You wrapped your arms around each other as you lay together on the edge of a cliff under the bright night sky. The breeze whispered over your naked bodies as you both drifted off to sleep, you felt happy. You had no idea what would happen next, maybe you’d have to leave the Order. You wouldn’t let Ben give up his studies, he was a Skywalker after all it was in his blood. The last thing you remembered before you drifted off was Ben’s steady breathing as he lay on your chest, your fingers tracing the curl of his ear, his dark hair brushing against your fingertips and you felt peace.

You stretched out on your open robes wincing at the feel of rocks and sticks in your back. You frowned, what were you doing outside? Memories of last night flooded back to you as you felt the dull ache between your legs. Ben. You turned to find him but you were alone. The sky was grey and you shivered as the wind picked up around you, why were you alone? He wouldn’t just up and leave you? Not after last night. Maybe he went to go and talk to Master Luke. You quickly got redressed and picked some twigs out of your hair before making your way back to the temple.

The smell was the first thing you noticed, your nose wrinkled and you wondered why they had started a bonfire, smoke weaved through the trees and you realised this was no normal bonfire. You burst from the woodland, fires littered the ground as all the huts you and your fellow Padawans had lived in lay strewn all over the floor. Trepidation seized you as you saw Master Luke’s temple was completely ablaze, the flames roared up as the roof collapsed spewing sparks into the sky. Your mouth was open in horror as you tried to comprehend the scene before you, nothing could have prepared you for the destruction surrounding you.

‘Ben…BEN!’ Smoke made your throat feel scratchy and you began to cough, tears streamed down your eyes as they stung viciously. You used the Force, it came easily to you in your moment of pure panic as you looked for the man you loved and anyone else who might have survived. You heaved debris aside, put out fires and searched with your feelings, but you felt nothing. You found nothing. You approached the Temple, the heat from the fire stopping you getting too close and you wondered who could do such a thing, who would hate the Jedi that much.

You wept, you wept for your lost friends, for your Master and for Ben. You wept until you had no more left to give. The fire still burned in the Temple destroying all the precious artifacts that Master Luke had spent so long searching for and collecting. The history of the Jedi wiped out in one swift blow.

You spent hours digging holes to bury your lost friends, you couldn’t leave them here for the predators to find. You started with Grogu, his tiny body was light in your hands as you laid him gently in the ground, his large ears sagged and a sob ripped your chest as you shovelled the dirt in covering him up. You repeated the process, every single one of these people you buried you had known. Ben was not among them even though you had searched high and low, except you hadn’t searched the Temple. He must have been in there with Master Luke, talking to him about you. You couldn’t shift the heavy feeling of guilt as it weighed on you. If you hadn’t given in last night, if it had never happened they’d both still be here. You could have prevented the attack together, as Jedi. You watched the flames twist and turn and you knew there was only one person you could trust now. But you had to find him first. With a heavy heart you grabbed a bag of everything you had managed to salvage, it wasn’t much but it was enough for now. You turned your back on the smouldering Temple, you turned your back on everything you had known and a life you had planned for and headed into the unknown.

#star wars #kylo ren #kylo #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x reader #kylo x you #my writing #Sith!Kylo #mylifeisactuallyamess #Star Wars fanfic

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purgatoriorpg · 2 years

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WANT IS A SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY, BUILT TO TRIP OVER ITS OWN FEET. I AM ALWAYS DROWNING IN ITS HUNGER.

In the lead up to our next event, we will be having a development week where characters that may not have interacted yet will be paired up together to build deeper connections. For this week, you will each be required to reach out to two other characters, explore these dynamics in the past and/or present, and write threads together on Tumblr or Discord. The threads can be set in the present day, or as a flashback.

While the threads do not have to be finished by the end of this week and can be continued into the next event, please make a start on them before Saturday, February 26th.

You are welcome to create your own dynamic or use one of the following for inspiration:

I. SALVATION: A moment of vulnerability, where one character showed compassion to another or helped them in some way.

II. HUNGER: Everyone hungers for something — desire, ambition, power, belonging, love. A moment of hunger that brought your characters together.

III. DAMNATION: A moment of conflict, where one character clashed with another, where a betrayal / deceit / argument splintered them.

The pairings for the characters are as follows:

NAZRIN x SÉVERINE

CARINA x AUGUST

AUGUST x NAZRIN

DANTE x HADRIAN

SOUNDARYA x SUTTON

VERITY x AMIRAH

HADRIAN x NAZRIN

GENEVIÈVE x BELLAMY

AMIRAH x NIKHIL

BELLAMY x CARINA

SUTTON x SAINT

NIKHIL x HECTOR

SAINT x GENEVIÈVE

SÉVERINE x DANTE

VERITY x SOUNDARYA

Below the cut are some quotes you can use for additional inspiration!

I. “To vow yourself to someone else is to open a wound. From it blood flows freely, life of you to them.” — Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries

II. “You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it.” — Yves Olade, Bloodsport

III. “The monster. The dreamer, the eater. The eater monster. You the monster, I the monster. All of us the monster. The monster in us, the monster in you. The monster in all of us.” — Mahtem Shiferraw, Fuschia

IV. “Rage is gripped in the hands. Rage gets stuck in the throat, suppressed. Rage is a promise kept.” — Sjohnna McCray, Rapture

V. “What lived and died between us—haunts me still.” — Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water: A Memoir

VI. “I will soothe you and heal you. I will bring you roses. I too have been covered with thorns.” — Rumi, Bittersweet

VII. “Dig your teeth into me. Come on, I dare you. Take a bite. Open me up.” — Ashe Vernon, It’s a circus and we all paid to be here

VIII. “Was it lust or hunger? How could I tell the difference?” — Margaret Atwood, Stone Mattress: Nine Wicked Tales

IX. “A moebius strip, a snake swallowing its own tail. Mutually assured destruction, maybe, or mutual deification. Mutual consumption.” — Becca De La Rosa and Mabel Martin, Mabel

X. “Sometimes, you just want / something so hard you have to lie about it, / so you can hold it in your mouth for a minute, / how real hunger has a real taste.” — Ada Limón, Bright Dead Things

XI. “That we are always alone in pain is a lie, I think: that language fails it, another.” — Anne Boyer, The Undying: A Meditation on Modern Illness

XII. “What is more basic than the need to be known? It is the entirety of intimacy, the elixir of love, this knowing.” — Audrey Niffenegger, Her Fearful Symmetry

XIII. “We can make do with so little, just the hint of warmth, the slanted light.” — Molly FIsk, Winter Sun

XIV. “He and I are closer than friends. We are enemies linked together. The same sin binds us.” — Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband

XV. “I always knew that you would hurt me to death some day, but I hoped to choose the time and place.” — Rebecca West

XVI. “You horrify me. But at the same time, I horrify myself. We are horrible.” — Hélène Cixous, The Perjured City

XVII. “There’s something soft in me / we killed it and it’s rotting.” — Cassandra de Alba, A Barbie Dream House But All the Dolls Are Kitchen Knives

XVIII. “We make each other alive. Does it matter if it hurts?” — Ingmar Bergman

XIX. “Do you see now? My tongue, the dagger at your jugular. My love, the sword at your bosom. Which do you want?” — Venetta Octavia, I Set It in Stone

XX. “He, like me, is haunted by his heart.” — Mahmoud Darwish, Tuesday and the Weather is Clear; If I Were Another: Selected Poems

#pg.plot #act 2: scene 1.

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graywyvern · 2 years

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( @gameauras / "lojbanistan, watercolor" via nightcafe )

The Blazing Sun at Night.

"In Saudade City, topology itself is the crime." --Empty Space (2012)

The Dark.

Vorlin poem: sad de ruk

kansanmenyes wa sarsaf sim pet dan xo kanmola. di wa ken sim dun dan xo rojdura. di wa pur sim nej dan xo borzina. di wa gem sim lof dan xo nera. di wa vivkonzor sim vem dan xo volyena u xo tura.

("Garden of Meat": Insanity is an artmaterial like stone, only harder. It is a knowledge like lightning, only longer. It is a purity like snow, only drillinger. It is a game like love, only blacker. It is a life-partner like a worm, only more desireful & more penetrating.)

Silent Night Holy Night.

ODE: A Crime Against the Moone

1. The music of the years, too dear for me a candle drowned in its own wax slavery has returned to the world where urge & the Story dovetail

we trade mutable masks, i & the dead one of us has lost the code false phosphorus, indigo on black a skinhead reads me my cards

you're paying too much for entropy i know where you can get much cheaper entropy--lore of the dispossessed enters my body wordlessly, like the chill of a great cathedral.

2. Fathomless answer, the city had assumed its golds & even the undersides of the overpasses were lit. Down the narrow alley stairway four detours on the way there wonder underway, marooned near doom ineluctable return. Railey wept. Silvered by slug trails of joy the hundred-foot statue of Stalin visible from across the Trinity River. The Story into thirteen swans divides; the colors of a bruise are not the sunset's. In napalm i have burned cold orb & bright impoverished kiss, forage five old wolves tarrying at the shadowless duration.

3. Crashsound returns as ingots wasp tattoo of the bronze mortgage graves laid upon graves the weeping statue, righted i keep hearing singing in the walls jarring the gyro through the Hunger Wall an experiment in mixing musics MC 900-foot Earthworm in this former empire without the stained glass House of the Black Mother of God the moment, overly edged salvo of ornaments gargoyle scree can't argue with the cold alone in the Police Museum fenced pit of rubble the basement walls bared to the sky return to a dubious parkingplace mayor of the besieged town distant birdsong in this bright abyss of air v curiously intimate.

4. or say my Evil Eye had flowered Under a rain of stones on the beach of the lifeless sea from watching fires elapse then flick an ant away reasons the counterclockwise-clock conspirators' passageway opened in the tarry afternoon stone forest chess game by a saffron quaver following the wires vegetarians carrying candles of animal fat divvy the gleaming implements ridged to my thumb.

5. Possessing you, why does my time compare captioned victim ore into slag rose vowel interval wall of starfish last night of the Winter King open door, molten road, shoe in the moonlight pointing pointing the ninth candle & these details are things i want to know & what i want to know i have to find orange sparkspray the length of an eyeblink car-tossed cigarette at night the Shrine has vermin.

Ash of Pompeii.

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if-the-crown-fits-translate-it · 3 years

Text

Duchy Conversation 4

[27/03, 4:29 AM GMT - 27/03, 6:13 AM GMT]

[The following transcript details the conversation is between one of the Crown ARG Discord members and Duke on Twitter]

Donti: “Hi! How was your day?

Its me again :)c

((If its late or youre sleeping dw about responding :p))”

Duke: “Forgive my tardiness, my embroidery was enchanting me so that my ears laid unaware!

How do you do, Donti? It is the Duke speaking. I must say, my sister has quite the opinion of you!”

Donti: “Oh its great to talk to you again Duke :D I hope I left a good impression! Is your embroidery going well?”

Duke: “It is going quite splendid! The Crown truly does spoil us, giving my sister and I such rich-coloured thread. Truly we are fortunate for his generosity and love.”

Donti: “Ohh! Good colors always make embroidery fun! What are you making?”

Duke: “I must ask though - as a sheep yourself why must you graze on such nimble hearts? Wolves are not supposed to concern themselves with the opinions and thoughts of prey such as yourselves but Prince is but a pup, why must you all be so cruel? I am quite interested in the answer, you see, because it is I who saw the tear tracks down faers face and I who heard the drums of despair in this household.”

Donti: “Oh..

Are you talking about blunt anon?

All of us are very angry at them, whoever they are.

I promise they do not reflect us as a whole.”

Duke: “To answer your previous question however, I am making a rose for Baroness. I do feel horribly for how I was unable to aid her with her spoiled dress so I do hope this gift soothes her and shows that there is no ill will from I to her.”

Donti: “Thats nice! Baroness loves flowers and nature! Thats super thoughtful of you. Im sure she'll love it :D

But back to Prince... Are fae ok? we're worried about faem.”

Duke: “"Blunt anon" is quite a peculiar name I must say. Indeed that is the scoundrel I speak of. It is wonderful to hear that you all are not that way - frankly, if I suspected you were the one to make Prince cry I would have simply neglected to respond, as is customary when one deals with enemies of one's family. Prince is currently recuperating, poor thing. A bleeding heart only leads to death and yet fae still has not learned that yet. I do wish you to send out a warning if you would be so kind - do let anyone know that if they ever treat Duchess in such a matter they will swiftly come to regret it. A gentleman does not revel in violence but she is my most dearest sister.

I thank you for your kind words however, I do indeed hope she enjoys my gift so - do not tell the others but she may be the only one in this family I can truly connect to on an intellectual setting, besides my sister of course.”

Donti: “Ill tell people not to be rude to Duchess. Not that they would.. Im pretty sure they like her :D”

Donti: “"Blunt anon" came when people would send... Rude asks to people. It was originally just blunt questions. But it escalated to... What happened to Prince :( We're trying to find them, but theres only so much we can do

Oh wait! have other people reached out to you all yet?”

Donti: “I know some of my good friends have talked to duchess.. But not to you yet!”

Duke: “Ah, indeed people have reached out and only Duchess was there to greet them. It pains me of course but I found myself with activities to do throughout the day. Schooling is still important to Duchess and I so that took up quite a bit of time - do not tell Crown but I was indeed spending time taking in the beauty of ballet instead of working purely on my Latin. Tea time too is an important affair, especially for I, and then it is always important to spend time with ones sister! So alas, you have been the only one I have graced with my thoughts and feelings out of your crowd of sheep.”

Donti: “Hm. I like the name sheep... Its a little kinder than "plebs"

You seems to like a lot of.. Elegant things! (I hope thats the right word) like embroidery and ballet! Where did you learn such refined taste :oc”

Duke: “Where did I learn such refined tastes? They have always been apart of me, you must understand. The Crown helped unlock those parts that I kept buried deep away and help nurture them. Oh such a brute I used to be! No care for the finer things in life, only one-upping my beloved sister. To think I used to slide in the dirt just for a measly point - bah! Truly I am in much debt to the Crown, for without him I still may have been a unruly fool.”

Donti: “... You played sports before you met Crown?”

Duke: “My sister and I both did, yes. It does not do well to dwell on such miserable times, Donti. This is why little one you are still a lamb.”

Donti: “Oh! If you don't want to talk about it, you dont have to! ^u^ Friends dont force their friends to talk about uncomfortable things!

Hm... But if the plebs are sheep... And I am a lamb... Who is the shepard...?”

Duke: “How sweet! Tell me, little lamb, who do you think the shepherd is? Or if there is one at all?

If you are a little lamb then I must ask, is there a Mary to be found alongside you as well?”

Donti: “Hm.... I think from our perspective the shepherd, (or shepherds in this case) would be our lovely mods :D

But from your point of view? Its most definitely Crown!

Andd.. Im assuming a Mary is a leader... Little lambs follow Mary after all... Hm. A lot of us have shown leadership at some point in time or another! It really depends on the scenario!”

Duke: “Intriguing.

It depends on the scenario you say?”

Donti: “Yep! People take charge depending on whats happening, and sometimes theres no leadership, just us discussing and working through it!

Why do you ask?”

Duke: “When the flocks have gone and left and all there is is the gentle bobbing of the water, who do you trust to save you from drowning? While you thrash and scream and feel yourself weaken who do you look towards for guidance? When the taste of salt kisses the interior of your esophagus whose name is on the tip of your dying tongue?

For I, it is the Crown, as he saved my sister and I from exactly that fate - but who is it for you?”

Donti: “Hm.. As a "flock" we all support one another.. That way, we can have multiple points of support! One person supporting that many people would be very stressful for that one person, you know”

Duke: “Of course.

Even then in a home all parts play along and join in the symphony but even with that, some are still load-bearing.

Who would be your load-bearing walls? All I ask is for some simple names, you understand. My curiosity is much like a cat, you see. Only satisfaction may truly bring me back.”

Donti: “Hm.. Are you asking for the names of my friends?

Well. There's Jack and Raeva, whom Duchess has spoken with, I think. Llyr, Ren, and Luna are also friends of mine. But I try not to burden them.

They are not so much load bearing pillars, but more of frail walls to shield me from the cold.”

Duke: “The drifting breezes that bring forth frost and tremors truly are such tiresome times. That you have shields is wonderful and it does ease my heart, but I do feel as though I must impart some wisdom else I'd be an unfavourable acquaintance - do try and build yourself a roaring inferno, little sheep.

Have so much fire around yourself that the winds cannot glance your way and even the Grand Archer Yi looks on with fear.”

Donti: “... And what if the fire burns me?

What then?”

Duke: “Do you think yourself unable to control the flames?”

Donti: “...Yes. Flames are temperamental, after all. When the inferno's dried up every last bit of water and eaten all of the wood, what will it turn to?”

Duke: “You want the answer to be yourself, I can see you reaching for it with an outstretched palm. Here is the truth: you can quell flames easily with just a few words. You can breathe in the ash and let the smoke dissipate. You do not have to be burned.

Ah, but these are just fun matters to think about. Do not dwell on my words too much. I would hate for you to overthink just simple pondering.”

Donti: “...Ill take your words to heart, friend. Even if it's just banter.

How do you know this?”

Duke: “Do not cause yourself concern with such a thing. In case I have caused you to distress then please do take this video as repentance. Isn't it so lovely how she spins?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqejv_BQ7Zg”

Donti: “Oh! that is a pretty video.. I wonder how long it took for her to make it so effortless..?

Do you dance?”

Duke: “Such an exquisite form of art. The mastery she has put forth would bring others to shame and ruin. A true professional since birth. I myself do not dance in this way - my sister and I are well versed in the waltz and ballroom dance as is customary for our statuses - but ballet alludes me. Alas, if only that was the direction I chose for my life to go but no matter - I have embroidery, poetry and oil painting to keep me truly green from envy.”

Donti: “Those are very enviable hobbies! I imagine you're skilled at them too! As for ballet... Ive heard that in order to dance that way, one has to go through great pain. I'd hate for you to experience that”

Duke: “A bit of suffering is always worth the pain if beauty and joy can be received in the end, do you not think?”

Donti: “As long as youre happy, I suppose!

I’m sorry to cut this short, but its getting late for me! And probably for you too ^^

I hope you rest well!”

Duke: “I hope you have humble dreams and a quiet rest. Goodnight, little lamb.”

#on:twitter #by:duchy #by:duke #if the crown fits

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scarletenchantis · 4 years

Text

Hmmm.

So, this was the place, where he worked, under this CEO boss person, not that the name was known to her, it had yet to be.

Scarlet hues glance up the tall building, though, they avert towards her young sibling.

‘‘I should be back in Chiba but i don’t mind going elsewhere if its with you’‘, she is just visiting, right?.

Other than that, she was ready to follow his lead, in this building.

@redxriiot

#redxriiot #ic #Villain!Suzu #for your villain Kiri #uwu #v: Drowned in roses and ashes #closed starter

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delicrieux · 5 years

Text

-- valar dohaeris

+ all men must serve + chapter 2

pairing: jon snow x reader x various

summary: Sansa Stark finally reunites with her brother

warnings: mentions of blood

words: 2.1k

author’s note: i love this. i love different POVs. i love strange characters with questionable intentions. i love--

tagging: @emmaamalie

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

masterlist | ch.1 | v. d. masterlist | buy me coffee☕

MELISANDRE

Melisandre is not one to doubt her God, yet the traitorous thoughts had plagued her since Stannis came to be not the Promised One. She felt ashamed; shunned; a disgrace to the Red Priests, to the God of Light and Fire, to herself. A century of living and for the first time since the early start her vision was unclear. Was bringing (Name) here the right choice? Was (Name)’s council needed when her magic abandoned her? Was she blinded by evil? Fed to sinister illusions? She feared to speak High Valerian again after her abysmal failure.

But the Jon Snow rose from the dead, from the ashes, from the frosty snow. Life blooms within him now, and he is unchanged: still perpetually frowning and still loyal to his core. He is the Promised One, she has no qualms about this. Her God has returned to her. And all of her worries had melted into distant memory.

Her heart swells in her chest and she can hardly contain her smile. Castle Black drowns in shadows, and she hides in one of them, watching as (Name) and Jon sit together, share whispers: he, donned in his Commander clothes, and her, dripping in deep red satin. The Hall is otherwise empty of spectators, only the flickering flame illuminating their silhouettes twirls and watches in the fireplace. She gently takes his hand, turns it, and pulls the sleeve all the way to his forearm. Jon, pensive, observes her elegant movements with morbid interest. (Name)’s fingers trail down from his elbow to his wrist, touch no lighter than a feather, hiss like whispers falling from her lips. The fire behind them rages and jumps, golden-orange and angry; in its brilliance glimmers one of the rings on her finger, one made of Valerian Steel and oily black stone.

Melisandre’s gaze shift to the ring, enraptured with its power. Its glittery surface reminds her of Asshai and its castles and homes, all infused with ancient magic. Perhaps that is why she took (Name) with her; perhaps she reminds her of home. But Melisandre hardly cares for such human values as home or family. She lives to serve, to fulfil a prophecy.

She does not recall the exact date of when (Name) first stepped foot on Asshai, but she knows it was dusk, and the night had been dark and misty. The sun was barely breaking the horizon, purple and blue from clouds and smoke. Then came whispers to her, mutters spoken in many languages, some of which even she did not recognise. They told of a child, no older than three, left by the peer, whose cries echoed with the crashing waves like thunder. In the dancing flames she saw an ashen face and eyes so piercing it struck her deeply, taking her breath away. Orders barked, people rushed, the babe was brought into the temple and candles lit up as the women in red walked over. Around the child’s throat hung the ring. She saw herself in its reflection.

Melisandre had watched (Name) grow in the glooms of Asshai; watched her eyes spark with wonder and lust for knowledge; watched her breathe freely in the labyrinth-esque library; watched her recite spells over and over and scry into fire and perform rituals of blood and bone. But (Name)’s birth remained a mystery – she, when confronted, did not know, and Melisandre, inquisitive, could not see it in the light. What she managed to find out, however, was a small secret, tailed by doubt: (Name) hails from Yeen.

Yet if she truly did, she would be dead.

And there is only but one explanation, one which reassures her that everything is connected. (Name) had been brought to Asshai by the Lord of Light for Melisandre to teach, and she had brought (Name) to Westeros because she saw strands of her hair dancing in the northern wind of a vision.

Slowly, she sinks back into the shadows and leaves the hall, missing the suspicious glance (Name) had thrown the corner she had been standing in.

THE RED WOMAN FROM ASSHAI

His arm quivers under your touch; his skin is hot against it. His gaze jumps from your lips to your eyes and then to anywhere but you before the cycle continues. You find it somewhat amusing, and your lips quirk with a half-smile, your concentration breaking as enchantments burn in memory. You sigh and let go, make distance between the two of you and he breathes with relief, “If you keep staring at me, I will have trouble focusing.”

“Can’t I…uh…Can’t the Maester just have a look at me?”

You raise a brow, indifferent once more, “Did the Maester bring you back to life?” He lowers his head, “But, no matter now. You are fine. You shall live. There is nothing amiss.”

“That’s…good, I suppose.”

His face slips into a frown and you almost see his mind bend and boil with difficult thoughts. His gaze, distant and sombre, bores into the specs on the wooden table, and you sense he is no longer with you, rather lost somewhere. You turn to the fire: its warm glow kisses your face; the scent of burning wood reminds you of home. Your hands fidget with the ring absentmindedly. Images of today play in the flames: The Hanging, Jon’s desire to leave, and you, eventually, stopping him.

“What troubles you, Jon Snow?” You ask him softly. His jaw tenses, eyes closing painfully.

“You know what.”

“They were good men.”

You attention returns to him with curiosity, your words intentionally provocative and harsh. You wonder what shall he say, how shall he explain himself, what sort of twisted sense of justice he has. They stabbed me, is the first thing that comes to mind. You tilt your head and watch him mull it all over; the painful blink of his lashes; the tightly shut lips; the tense shoulders that heave with contained breaths. They betrayed me, is the second thing. You expect he shall give one of these answer. Then again, he might not grace you with an answer at all.

“They were.” He finally says, his voice low, barely a whisper. Your gazes meet and once again your heart jumps to your throat – within their gentle depths resides a fire, traces of ancient magic, ancient blood – and you feel a shiver crawl up your spine. “They did what they thought was right.” He continues, turning away “And I killed them for it.”

“All men must die.” You say, “But before that… All men must serve.” You add after a thoughtful pause. He nods hollowly, not entirely listening. “Those who fall out of line must be guided back. Or face the consequences of their actions…Would you have them betray you again?”

“I would rather not have any of this happen at all.”

“What is done cannot be undone.”

“Not even with magic?” He asks, voice shimmering with amusement.

“No. It would be unwise even to try.” You glance at the fire, it now subdued to but a glow, “The outcome could be…Haunting.”

His eyes squint, “Have you…ever tried?”

Jon’s question takes you back into Asshai, into a dark room lit by candles and a flag of a red heart hung above the bed. The moon is in full bloom, its magnetic radiance illuminating the tombs spilled with blood, the silver blade laying forgotten on the pillow, and the ring dotted in maroon spots.

You return to reality with a deep inhale and sit up straight, “No.” Is all that falls from your lips, too quick to be the truth, too quick to have any real meaning. You clear your throat and your hand grasps his wrist, startling him. His pulse drums against your skin, erratic, “Someone’s coming to see you.” You announce, eyes not leaving his strained veins, “Be ready.” You finish and let go just as harshly as you had grabbed him.

You leave him stunned and confused, exiting the Hall and meeting the bleak day. Crows fly around in circles. Their croaks warn of a visitor.

SANSA STARK

It was an emotional reunion, and Sansa’s bones nearly cracked from the fierceness of Jon’s hold, strong and protective, and she had cried into his shoulder in silent, happy tears. It came in waves, that terrible relief and sadness: she could breathe again knowing there is no safer place on Earth than by his side, yet she was devastated because it had taken so long to reach him. The adrenaline that had been fuelling her died down in his arms, and she was suddenly exhausted, too frail to stand, yet too fearful to let go. Eventually she did, after muffled words exchanged between them, and she wiped away her tears hurriedly. Red from crying and puffy, her eyes glistered like emeralds against the snow. Alas, with the promise of reuniting once more at supper, she was escorted to a temporary chamber. As climbed up the creaky, uneven stairs, and listened to the harsh wind whipping against the small windows, she almost fell into tears again.

But when she entered her room she was not alone. The small space contained a bed, a single window, a chair, and a fireplace spilling with hot flames, they casting strange shapes on the pale, dirty walls. On the chair sits a woman clad in red, hair hidden behind a satin hood, her expression tranquil and pleasant, fingers working quick on embroidery. Sansa halts by the door, startled. A soft hum slips past the shut lips of the stranger, before she finally lifts her eyes and greets her, “Hello, Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell. You seem tired. You should rest.”

It struck Sansa there and then that she is no one ordinary, no chamber maid, no lady. The delirious, sing-song tone of her voice, foreign features belonging neither to North or South, the air of absolute secret…It struck Sansa that she is the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and she had witnessed many Queens in their silk dresses, ladies with their charming rose-bud smiles, maids in blushed timid faces. Yet never had she found them all that appealing, though now she reconsiders and her heartbeat quickens if a bit. But it is silent here, she realises; no whips of wind, simply the fire cracks and jumps in the fireplace.

“Who are you?” Sansa asks, cautious and untrusting, unmoving by the door. The woman in red sets down her embroidery, regarding it with a bored glance.

“I am (Name) of Asshai.” She introduces in the same lovely tone.

“Asshai?” Sansa frowns, the name familiar yet unplaced.

The woman, now dubbed as (Name), nods, “East most and South most of Essos, at the end of the known world.” She explains, “The land of arcane arts.”

“You’re a witch?” Sansa questions doubtfully, voice riddled with mirth and disbelieve.

(Name) leans out of her chair, her face glowing pretty in the firelight, “I am. Does that frighten you?”

“Should it?”

“Well, you have not moved yet. I promise I mean no harm. I am here because your brother asked me to be. He does not trust the men working here. And for good reason, might I add.”

(Name) told about the death and resurrection, the tale so outlandish Sansa would have trouble believing it if she did not know for fact that it was true. She eased eventually, the mysterious figure of the Red Woman appeared less menacing and more child-like with a curious disposition. (Name) explained that she had never been to the North, and that her skin had burned from the cold and her throat was sore immediately within but a few breaths. She also admitted that she did not like the North, her gaze wandered to the window, to the Wall moulded from snow and magic. She mentioned a great evil restlessly drifting beyond it. But Sansa, finally in bed, her body covered in mountains of blankets and fur, hardly listened to words spoken in common tongue. She frowned softly when the tone shifted so something ululating and low. She blinked owlishly, presented with a gift – (Name) offered the embroidery with a wolf woven out of silver thread. Sleepily Sansa accepted, running her fingers along the neat lines.

“Your brother said you loved sewing.” (Name) admitted, “I thought this would make you feel more at home.” She added, the first notes of tenderness blooming in her voice. Yet she did not stick around for long, and with a smile, genuine or not Sansa could not tell, she slunk back to the door, and silently shut it behind her. The fire died down. The room went dark.

And it is as if everything that had happened up until this point faded in memory, and overcome with drowsiness Sansa fell asleep, the gift still tangled in her fingers.

thank you for reading! xx

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