Ciarán Mac Domhnaill

punkwatcher:

He remembered her being stronger than this. Hugs that could compress his ribs on his lungs and leave him laughing breathlessly. And that just when she was happy to see him after two months gone out of country.

He pulled back a little to see her face, cradle it, as if some physical injury would be there in her eyes for him to find. He’d always been the magical equivalent of a log thanks to Adrian’s genes, but even to him she felt somehow…diminished. Not less than she had been, but dimmer. Like a beautiful light not getting enough power from the source.

“Are you okay?”

Then he remembered the last thing he’d seen before crossing that threshold backwards. The guards. The giants. The terrible feeling of wrongness and being wrong and hunted and hurt. Ciaran falling under them. The old man trapped in Sean’s hell after flinging him from it. Still cupping Miranda’s cheeks, Sean twisted to see what remained of the gazebo. The body he’d stumbled over in his initial confusion. He felt dizzy and his voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Fuck.”

Her stomach fluttered as she looked back at him, eyes glowing brighter. You’re really back. You’re not a dream. Was she okay? She was stupendous! …Or at least she would be. Eventually. Hopefully. Now her stomach felt a bit queasy, and the flutter became more of a panic.

One thing at a time. Ciaran first, frenzied dismay later.

“Come with me.” She pulled Sean’s hands away and got unsteadily to her feet. “Please. Can you?” She wouldn’t like leaving him here, but at least she could see him and know that he was alright.

The walk back to the gazebo was not a pleasant one. Every muscle and tendon in her legs screamed at her to stop moving, to lie in the grass and go to sleep, and she groaned as she knelt down next to her teacher. Miranda squeezed her eyes shut, reaching out mentally. Still there, sensei? “Don’t be dead,” she breathed, fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. “Don’t be dead, don’t be dead…” He couldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t be able to bring him back. 

When the first slivers of consciousness came back to him, Ciaran immediately knew something was very wrong. His body was a kind of weak he was sure he’d never before experienced, and was in so much pain it hurt to think. Confusion gradually gave way to terror as the last moments of their journey came back to him in flashes, and it wasn’t long before he remembered the feeling of blades tearing through him again and again. He feebly moved to check his wounds and found nothing there, despite still feeling like blood was pouring from him.

Before he could let that realization begin to scare him, he heard a voice by his ear.

“Don’t be dead, don’t be dead.”

It sure felt like he wasn’t far off, but when he realized it was Miranda speaking he somehow found the strength to be glib.

☕  - Do you prefer coffee or tea? Perhaps neither, or both? 

☠ - Do you think you’d survive a zombie apocalypse? 

☺ - Post a picture of yourself or describe what you look like! 

⚽ - Are you active? 

⛄ - Do you have a favourite holiday? 

♫ - Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind of music, if no, why not? 

☤ - Have you ever had to go to the emergency room? Why? 

♪ - Do you play any instruments? 

⚖ - Opinions on the fandom your muse blong to? 

♿ - Is there anything about your body you’d like to change if given the chance? 

✂ - Do you hate people easily? 

✼ - Do you think the character/characters you role play as reflect who you are? 

⚄ - Do you play videogames? Have a favourite? 

✵ - Are there any other fandoms you’d like to approach? 

⚜ - If you role play more then one muse, do you have a favourite? 

⛔ - In real life, are you friendly? 

⨁ - Do you hold grudges, or easily let things go? 

♥ - Besides fictional characters, is there someone you love? 

♾ - Which timezone are you in? 

W - What do you do for a living?

♡ - OTP for your muse? 

⚔ - NOTP with your muse? 

☰ - Fun random fact about the mun! 

Hey guys! I thought I’d so something fun this weekend, so I did my best to sexualize the alphabet and turn it into a headcanon game!

So here’s how it works. You send me a character (or a few), and the corresponding letters that you want me to answer for them!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)  J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

No More Wishing

tellurianwitch:

They were going to be annoying about this, weren’t they? She needed to be in there, helping. Taking care of things, like she had planned. But then a shape was flying at the gate and she reappeared ten feet back, ready.

Then there he was, all gleaming gold sunshine just like she remembered him. Maybe… a little paler, a little more wane, but… Sean. Back. Almost. When Miranda reached out, her fingers trembled, buzzed, felt… cold. But they felt something. Solid. As solid as anything felt at the moment. She didn’t even have to lead him back to his body.

The last piece had to be set quickly. He could slip back out or be pushed out or fade completely, and they had worked too hard to fail now. The last sigil of the tattoo scrawled on the inside of his ankle, completing the loop of the maze and locking everything in place. It wasn’t quite sewing his shadow back onto the soles on his feet, but it would do. He had been a shadow for too long.

As she pushed energy into the mark, Miranda looked back through the portal, caught Ciaran’s eye. Watched him fall and disappear. Too far to fail.

He moved as fast as he could manage, but it was nowhere near enough to withstand the flurry of massive arms and blades that struck at him from all directions. For every strike he blocked, it felt as though at least 20 more met their mark, and he was so certain that this was his end. But then the crowd of guardsmen relented in their attack and begin to disperse.

He was a riddled mess of deep gashes as he got back to his feet, noting that there was one guard remaining, and despite the lack of any discernible facial features Ciarán was pretty certain it was staring at him. After considering the situation for a bit, he realized the simple answer: there wasn’t anything to fight for. They had only taken action to put Sean back in his place and remove the obstacle preventing that. With Sean out of their reach, they recognized both that they had no reason to fight and that Ciarán had no reason to stay, and as such they just returned to their usual posts. He laughed despite how much it hurt to do so, and shuffled towards the portal, eventually collapsing through it and just laying on the ground. He was weaker and in more pain than he’d been in ages, but all he could think about was the fact that he’d brought his son home.

Please be alive. Please be alive.

Miranda wasn’t sure whom she was talking to anymore. Everything was starting to hurt—the planks under her knees, the strain of her muscles, pressure on her lungs from breathing, light from the stars coming out. The fact that she could feel sensation again probably wasn’t a good sign. She had to keep the portal open.

Sean still wasn’t waking up. Until he did, she wasn’t sure everything had gone right.

Another entity passing through the portal sent shivers up her back and through her limbs. Ciaran fell into a heap on the ground. Slowly Miranda let the portal dissolve and fade from view, and she pushed the power away—it took more effort than she would like to admit. It felt so nice. Warm. Right.

And then everything crashed back through the floodgates and she curled in on herself, vision darkening at the edges as she groaned in pain. Stay awake. Make sure they’re alright. Her head lowered to Sean’s shoulder. Forcing her eyes open, Miranda glanced back at Ciaran and reached out with a thread’s width of energy to check on him. Still breathing.

He didn’t think he could move, but his desire to escape the sensory overload proved him wrong. He wriggled out from under the body that felt it’d half-crushed him, scrambled to his feet and nearly tripped over the other one. With a sword.

He looked down to see a short blade protruding from his chest. Red as blood with a darker red sliding along its edge. He watched a trail of the stuff for a moment. Then suddenly the ground was closer than before and his knees hurt. They hurt. Everything hurt.

Sean gasped and stumbled down wooden steps. His legs remembered walking even as his mind reeled. They carried him across grass so green and vibrant the color stabbed into his eyes, deep into his brain. The scent of dirt and life and decay and the whole cycle of it was even stronger out here. He picked up speed. His legs were strong and they burned.

He stopped after a brief burst. Running was too much. It made the air lash at his face. It made his lungs gasp even harder against heavy ribs. He needed to…

And without really consciously deciding it, he sat hard in the grass. It was quiet, actually, he thought, after a moment. The buzzing faded to background noise. In every direction there was nothing but peace and calm. Silence of nature. The dew on the grass coated his palms and soaked into his trousers. It was only when the grey light around him began to warm at the edges that he realized something. Something very important. He turned his head toward the dawning light and watched the sun begin to rise and he knew.