#one that pointed out his anger and hatred with the gods

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[vaugarde]

tbh in my kirbyverse i might just nix hyness having genuinely been a great parental figure or family member to the mage sisters entirely and lean more into “the sisters thought he was their friend but really he just made them dependent and devoted to him” like the way actual cults lure their members in. like a twisted form of love that goes against the jamba hearts entirely. 

and its not just for that parallel between hyness’s controlled environment and kirby’s community of friends and former enemies he’s helped along the way, but also because it’d differentiate them from taranza/sectonia and haltmann/susie a bit more bc it wouldnt quite be another “i’m mourning my loved one who got corrupted and want them back” story, but “the person we loved never truly existed and we’ve been fighting for a man who never loved us and only viewed us as a means to an end”

[xreader-writing]

Still here | Lando Norris

Sumarry: Y/n comes to her ex-boyfriend Lando Norris' defense when he's being canceled, and Lando couldn't be happier about it.

Pairing: Ex!Lando Norris X Actress!Reader

A/n: So this will probably become a series lol English is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes.

The next chapter will be WRITTEN, so tell me if you approve this for series or not, thanks :)

Liked by user1 and 965,495 others

F1news Some internet users are questioning and disapproving of Lando Norris' behavior with Lewis Hamilton, and even pointing out other times when the driver acted rudely with other people around him. What do you think about this?

—

User1 Disrespectful, that's all.

User2 I think the fame went to his head.

User3 That's probably why Y/n broke up with him.

User4 I bet he was toxic to her.

User5 Y/n is so sweet, how did she put up with him for 2 years?

User6 Wow completely disappointed

Liked by user1 and 985,765 others

F1news Old photos of a fight between the former couple Lando and Y/n are circulating on the internet again after the cancellation of the pilot, some internet users are saying that he took out his frustrations on his partner.

—

User1 This is getting worse every day...

User2 Unfollowing Lando.

User3 I think the haters are taking advantage of this.

User4 I've always suspected this

user5 That's because he was born into a rich family and she wasn't.

User6 What does this have to do with anything?

Liked by mclaren, carlossainz55 and 1,680,593 others

Youruser Okay, I wouldn't say anything about it, but I think things got a little out of hand, and that's not right, some people have been saying how bad and rude Lando is, and how apparently he "was terrible" to me during our relationship, those people couldn't be more wrong.

Lando is the kindest and most kind person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and the two years we spent together were nothing but magical and happy with him, the photos that are circulating say that he's taking his anger out on me, my dears... rest assured that on that day the one who was taking the risk was him lol we had a normal fight like any other couple, don't blow it up or make too many theories about it.

We ended our relationship for other reasons, but we remain friends, he has all my affection and love and I know I have his too, so please stop this gratuitous and completely unnecessary hatred towards him, it hurts me too.

Thank you for your attention, Y/n.

—

Comments have been disabled.

Liked by user1 and 905,035 others

F1news Actress Y/n came out in defense of her ex-boyfriend Lando Norris, after all the theories and the cancellation of the pilot, she wrote a very cute text clarifying some speculations about the life of the former couple "Lando is the kindest and most kind person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting" says the actress in a part of her text that was posted in a publication on the actress's Instagram.

—

User1 Oh my God, I miss them so much 😭😭😭

User2 I love this woman

User3 McLaren liked it, they may have paid her to post this

User4 Oh, fuck you

User5 We never found out why they broke up

User6 I still think what he did was disrespectful..

User7 I think Lando is happier than ever now lol

User8 Hadn't she been with Pierre before dating Lando?

User 9 They have only been seen together a few times, they might be friends.

User10 Yes, nothing was ever confirmed.

───────────────────────NEXT

[autolenaphilia]

God I think I actually prefer explicit fascist transmisogyny in comparison to the disguised dogwhistly liberal transmisogyny.

Like the people who openly call me an autogynephile and other various slurs and tell me to kill myself are at least being honest. They don't bullshit me about hating my very existence and wanting me to die.

It's all the faux-loving forms of transmisogyny that really make me angry. Like it makes my skin crawl in its dishonesty and hypocrisy. And it takes so many forms. Like the transmisogynist christian "hate the sin, not the sinner" approach where they claim to love me and just want me to accept Jesus in my heart. The necessary condition for accepting their version of Jesus however is me detransitioning, and that would kill me.

There is the terfy "people with gender dysphoria are suffering and they need help but we can't endanger women's sex-based rights for them." i've even seen in arguments about legal gender changes the following: "of course trans women deserve to use women's spaces, but if we allow legal gender self-id evil cis men will take advantage of that. So trans women will have to have their rights restricted." Even J.K. Rowling used it in her terf manifesto.

It makes one yearn for the days of the ur-terf book "The Transsexual Empire" which had the "shemale" slur in its subtitle and in which the author Janice Raymond argued trans women rape real women by the fact of their very existence. That kind of brazen transmisogyny at least had some kind of honesty about it.

There is also the transmisogynist callout culture fandom, or as the japanese fittingly call them: the american feelings yakuza. They callout transfems for problematic kinks like at least once a week but deny transmisogyny. "oh we don't believe all transfems are evil predatory sex perverts, it's just that this particular transfem is."

Their evidence for her being sexual predatory is that she ships two fictional siblings. Or in meatspace meetings, things like her having "bad vibes" ("bad vibes" or "gut instinct" are polite words for what more sensible people call "ingrained bias") .

And they suspiciously keep on making callouts for transfem after transfem in a neverending series, trying to ruin her reputation and socially exile her, but of course they are not transmsiogynists.

There is also the sofboi transandrobro type of transmisogyny. They spread the vilest transmisogyny but always falls back on a terfy bioessentialism to claim ontological innocence and perpetual victimhood in all situations. I've literally seen someone say "how can i be a misogynist, i'm literally afab." These people will not say directly "shut up about your oppression, stupid tranny", but say it in coded form. I had one guy traumadump to me about his rape in vivid detail to make the point that (trans)men suffer more and imply that transfems don't suffer from sexual violence.

And that's the crux of the issue. Open hate barely fazes me anymore, unless there is an immediate threat of physical violence. But being condescended to, being emotionally manipulated, being faced with people veiling their hatred of transfems behind a veil of superficially loving rhetoric, that does make me angry. And these people always use my anger against me. "Why are you so angry when these people are being so polite and nice to you?" And that's because the point of these rhetorical approaches is to have plausible deniability for your bigotry and make transfems look crazy when they point it out.

Yet it's the same bigotry as the explicit version, it's just more dishonest about it. Like if had the They Live glasses and looked at the rhetoric, it would just read "exterminate all transfems." All those polite liberals believe the same thing about transfems as the neo-nazis openly calling for us to be hanged, they just lack the virtue of being honest about it.

[sinizade]

Izveta Noquar

Class: Rogue

Dark Urge (Evil but "redeemed")

Romance: Astarion (Ascended)

Besties: Why does she need friends if she has her own company? (Shadowheart is her bestie)

Being the youngest adopted daughter of the prestigious Noquar family in Menzoberranzan, Izveta was able to surpass the matriarch's biological daughters in any aspect, battles or manipulations. The drow had a natural talent for killing ever since she first held a weapon, the family's only concern about the girl was her constant conversations with a butler who seemed like only she could see, but often some other drow could see a small shadow next to her, almost as if whispering in her ear.

Her first love was the first person Izveta killed, a handsome young elf with beautiful green eyes almost the same age as her who was given to her as a gift by her mother. The young drow really thought he loved her the way she loved him, but she discovered the hard way that it was all just cruel manipulation for him to try to kill her and escape... What he didn't expect was that it would be a trigger for something cruel and bloodthirsty to awaken in Izveta who hunted him like an animal and slit his throat completely, leaving him unrecognizable...

Izveta ended up finding out from her butler that her sisters planned to kill her to reduce the matriarch's chances of choosing Izveta to replace her as head of the family. The young drow, possessed by anger and a feeling of betrayal, slew her sisters, showing them both to her mother like a trophy, but she didn't react as Izveta expected... The woman who raised her all her life tried to kill her and was once again overcome by hatred, Izveta killed her own mother, afraid of the reaction of the other drow, she fled to the surface where her butler constantly talks about a place she could actually consider a real home, where she would be accepted and loved for who she truly is

Getting used to the surface culture was one of the biggest difficulties for Izveta, not having males to satisfy her whims or soldies to do as she commanded was a reality check. The males on the surface were not as submissive and obedient as those who served her in Menzoberranzan and this ended up involving her in several fights in the places where she managed to stay, but it wasn't long until she finally found that place her butler talked about, her home, The Temple of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder... Her father. She didn't like her father's temple, it wasn't quite what she imagined as she thought it would be something grand like a castle or a fortress, but it fit with the cliche "I am a homicidal God"

Baldur's Gate was truly a lovely city, so full of light and life, Izveta simply loved walking through the dark alleys looking for some clueless person who would follow her wherever she took them, so that was when she met that dark-haired human man who He wasn't looking at her with fear, but curiosity and even perhaps admiration? Izveta didn't know for sure, but receiving that look after so long made her interested in knowing more about this human, knowing more about this "Enver Gortash"

The years after meeting Enver seemed to improve her mood. Izveta might have loved killing, feeling the hot blood on her hands, but she loved even more being pampered, receiving gifts, ordering and having her carpices supplied whenever she wanted and Enver made a point of doing all of this for her, giving some small gifts like rings, necklaces, masks... Izveta LOVES masks. Even though vanity is not something much used either in the Bhaal temple or by his followers, Izveta always loved simply beautifying herself, makeup, big jewelry, hairstyles for her long white hair, she loved spending minutes and even hours just beautifying herself with makeup or the blood of someone she killed. Enver managed to make her see him as an equal, not just an equal, a potential partner both with this strange plan with a "brain" and in bed, he had a thirst in his eyes, a thirst for her and she would quench that thirst every time he begged for her...

For some reason, losing her memories, even if it caused a certain frustration, at the same time caused relief... Being able to recreate her story without memories of the past to worry about

Some may think that Izveta redeemed herself by denying her "family heritage" by denying Bhaal, but her wave of chaos was just beginning. Astarion may think he controls her, that she is his beautiful spawn waiting only to receive orders from her lord, but something he doesn't even suspect is that he is right in the palm of her hand... A little flattery, a few whispers in his ear, a few touches on his chest and he does exactly what she wants and when she wants, he may not feel anything anymore or maybe feel, but the memories of the love he once felt for her are what give her power. Being a Bhaalspawn may have its advantages, but having the control of an ascended vampire lord was much better and as a vampire spawn everything is even more delicious, an eternity delighting in the death of whoever she wants and without any consequences... No There's nothing more she wants

Some extra information about Izveta

She loves white, she loves seeing the white of her clothes stained with blood, she loves seeing how her skin is highlighted while wearing white, she simply loves the color white.

She felt a little sorry for Orin, her little blood kin might be a kinda crazy, but she wasn't a bad person... At least not before her mother tried to kill her.

The only bad thing about denying her "father" was losing Sceleritas... Her butler, her true father... one of the few creatures she truly felt affection for

[loaksbitch]

ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES

warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.

jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.

for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.

“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.

“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.

you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.

you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.

“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.

a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.

you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.

“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.

“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.

he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.

“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.

“fuck you.” he grumbles

“fuck you.” you hiss back.

done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.

intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,

jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.

“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.

“don’t. push. me.”

both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.

“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.

“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.

“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.

without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.

it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.

he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.

“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.

“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.

you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.

before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.

“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.

“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.

he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.

“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.

“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.

jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.

he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.

you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.

“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.

“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”

you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”

“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.

“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.

you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.

right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.

“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.

“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.

your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.

“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.

“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.

“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.

“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”

you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.

“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.

“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.

you smell so tempting and delicious.

your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.

jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.

“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.

you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.

pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.

“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.

“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.

hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.

“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.

hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.

tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.

your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—

“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.

“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”

“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…

“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”

“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.

“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.

your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.

“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.

tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.

“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.

you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.

he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.

“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”

right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.

if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.

“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.

too confused and trying to process what just happened.

like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Shattering sapphires tear under love

Aemond x prostitute!reader

warning : +18, smut (handjob), mommy kink, body worship, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional, cuddling, crying, family issues and mommy issues, kissing, no use of Y/n, Aemonds just needs a little love

Summary : The death of his nephew, whether intentional or unintentional. A fact that had consequences and left the prince at a low point he hoped he would never reach…to be the disillusionment of his family. A prince of the realm crying broken dark in the dark finding escape with his other gem…

Info : OH MY GOD Aemond in the trailer and now seeing him a dream came true (even though I thought it was Rhaenyra at first strangely enough) this picture is just incredible ahhh. I knew I had to write it now have a lot of fun with it I had it again very much ;)

the aemond gif (very pretty by the way) is from @barbieaemond thanks for that and check out the blog

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~

Rain and wind he could still feel nature on him. The lightning and thunder that struck around him tried to tear away and devour every living thing in the sky.

The winds tried to whirl him around, but the rugged wings of the ancient dragoness Vhagar were more powerful and had nature under them.

A creature of magic and ancient Valyria blood did not submit to the winds, it flew through them, obeying the commands of its fourth and final dragon rider.

Now it obeyed orders it was not commanded to obey as its mouth full of old sharp fangs closed around Arrax. The dragon's roar was barely audible, but the last look he gave his nephew was the one that burned into his eye like dragon fire, breaking his sphair.

He looked into those dark eyes and saw nothing but fear in the knowledge of death. I killed him. The blood and the torn body parts of the little dragon seemed to close around Lucerys and the prince and his dragon rushed to the water. It was as if Vhagar and the sky could control themselves again.

The anger subsided and he stared at his trembling hand, covered by a leather glove, which he had reflexively stretched out. Pathetic. It had happened, it had been done, and the sound of Vhagar's wings carrying him home seemed to be the only thing left of the world.

His pounding heart, his trembling hands and the burning pain of his scarred skin where his eye had once been seemed to be only the beginning of this nightmare. But the worst part of arriving back in the city, in King's Landing, in the castle that was his home from the towers to the courtyard and the throne room, was meeting his mother's eyes.

The initial touch of fear that something had happened to him during the storm, ,,Aemond, thank the gods you're all right," had drawn him into her arms for a moment, but this changed to an uncertain and nervous one when she saw how upset her son actually was.

When she saw that he didn't seem calm and almost cool like his violet eye showed emotions of fear and sadness that he didn't have until now at least. ,,Do you realize what you've done?" the loud voice of his grandfather and hand Otto Hightower echoed in the room intended for the small council.

He had never seen his grandfather so full of anger and hatred, at least not towards him. I was always better than him. A glance at his older brother only confirmed that he found it amusing that their sister's bastard was finally dead. The violet of the two brothers met and yet he could see that Aegon gave him a silent sign.

He would be on his side no matter what…a small certainty in time. ,,Aemond! By the crown, do you know what this means?" even his mother shouted now, his wonderful, strong mother, his queen dowager.

The woman who had held him when he was wronged, the blood running from his ruined eyes no more than scarred flesh now. The woman who had fought for him, his brother and Heleana, against a woman, his older half-sister, who had gotten everything.

She had had a hard time and he had let her down a reality that hurt as much as her grip on his arms. Pressing her bloody fingernails into the dark fabric of his sleeves, he could have sworn they left small marks. ,,It means war, mother," he replied calmly, regretting that it came across as cold, but inside he cried out for forgiveness.

The pain behind his eyes was like dragon fire itself, his fingers clenched into fists again and again to stifle the trembling. He almost backed away when his mother and grandfather made a move towards him, thinking they were going to hit him. Just as useless as Aegon.

But with the rise of Aegon and the opening of the door as Criston stepped in, both Hightowers paused to give their son and grandson a look that burned itself into Ameond's eye just as Lucerys had.

The same dark accusing eyes, he was to blame, he had disappointed…he was only the second son after all. ,,To war then', Aegon had interrupted the entrance, giving his younger brother a curt nod to disappear for a while, surrendering to the voices of his family, with wine the new king would be able to bear anything.

Leaving the room hastily before anyone could grab him, the prince of the realm disappeared into the dark corridors to escape to his chambers.

It was as if his heartbeat was mingling with his overly rapid breathing, the trembling of his fingers would not stop and whether it was the third cup of wine or the food that tasted of nothing, not even the old Valyrian books could calm him down. He almost shouted at the servants to leave him alone and even Heleana he was too afraid to let her see him like this.

She herself doesn't deserve you. But he knew from the sound of her shallow words that she already knew what had happened to him. ,Two dresses, silk shattering eye shattering castle under dragons…mother will understand dear brother" he had heard her voice as she had probably turned almost dance-like through the corridors in her hands her insects flying and crawling around and also that his ,,Thank you Heleana" which came across like a stifled whisper was heard by her.

His face hidden in his hands, leaning slightly hunched over on the armchair in front of the fireplace, seemed to break in his emotional thoughts. ,,Get a hold of yourself," he hissed angrily that he had become such a thing because of a boy…he had murdered and disappointed…he didn't deserve it…didn't deserve the love of his family…his mother.

It seemed to get worse with every moment, his usually too big room suddenly too small and suffocating. The light of the moon shining through the window let him know that there was King's Landing, a city that was always open to him. His gem was still there.

Not a decision but rather a feeling of attraction without overcoming it, he made a decision within himself. Turning away from the armchair that raised the fire that made his spahir sparkle and reaching for his cloak, he walked out of his chamber at the hour of the wolf.

He had evaded the guards with his brother since he was a child. The steps still the same feeling of uncertainty and curiosity as then. The time his brother had grabbed her and pulled him behind him towards the city, towards the Street of Silk.

The Street of Silk lay on the hill of Rhaenys, a street notorious for lust and whimsy. But it was the place, it was her place where he knew she was the only one who was always good-natured towards him.

Deep down inside, whenever he heard the faint jingle of his coin purse, he knew that at the end of the day it was just a service he was getting with money.

But maybe this was exactly what he needed, a service, a woman, a woman who would embrace him and not see him as what his family, his mother despised him for today. Coins are the life of a whore.

He pulled his hooded cloak low over his face, covering his face as best he could as he knocked on the door and heard the activity behind it. Or at least he knew what it looked like in there again, a den of lust that had been no stranger to him since he was thirteen.

After another brief moment in the darkness, the door opened and he saw the familiar dark curly hair of the older woman. The mother of the brothel. ,,At this late hour, my…customer," she said and he saw her eyes peering easily under his cloak. It was her, she was his first, he was her most endless.

He would not forget her and even though he had hated his brother, he had simply left him in the brothel while Aegon had disappeared into the building with several whores of both sexes.

So Aemond had been taken by her most of the experience and to this day he lied to himself. He could have had a younger one but even inside, hell she knew he had longed for nothing more than a mother's approval.

A fact that lay unsaid between them all these years until he found his new gem. It no longer remained unsaid. ,,Is she there?" he murmured as she grasped his hand again as she always did and almost patted it.

She led him through her large house past the customers, the young men and women she was one of the oldest but every brothel had to offer a complete age range. The silk on the bodies that were naked underneath gave a look of lust but his eyes were mostly on the floor or on his companion.

,,You know she's always there for you, my prince. I thought something a little more robust was needed," she remarked and he felt her rubbing his hand as they both knew exactly what it was. ,,Robust soon…but no, something more caring," he replied and stopped when they arrived in front of the door decorated with silver.

The silver he had paid for was evidence of his many visits and he was not surprised that the silver showed the shape of dragons and fire. His gemstone marked by the prince's coins.

He heard the older woman's laughter make her curls bounce as she broke away from him and paused, ,,Anything you wish for my dear she, me or anyone else my house is always open to you…she will take away your guilt" she said and winked he instantly tensed and had to suppress a sigh. Her eyes were guilty and cleverly she had to realize what her customers wanted.

But she could and had always read him just as well. Pulling the golden dragon coin out of the small pouch and throwing it in her direction and catching it, he only heard her laugh and saw the knowledge in her eyes before he had too much to do and went into the room.

His cloak still lay over him as he walked into the largest room of the house, the double bed with a sett curtain, the finest furniture and ornaments with murals, even relatively expensive jewelry could be found here.

It was the prince's second room and everyone knew it. He heard her humming a song as she always did when she looked in front of her mirror and combed her hair, cared for herself and enjoyed a cup of wine.

,,Who is it?" she asked into the room and waited for his answer but his throat seemed dry, suddenly those suppressed emotions came back. He felt the pain in his eye, his fingers were trembling and he couldn't control himself, it was terrible.

As he approached her, the cloak still on him, he saw that she had seen him in her mirror and put a knowing, gentle smile on her lips. ,,A cloaked man…who could that possibly be? What pretty thing is hiding underneath?" she asked knowingly and rose to her feet, making her sapphire necklace sparkle in the candlelight and her dark, almost green silk dress flap.

All gifts he had given her to transform her into something that was not him by blood but that didn't matter here, here in his own realm…not today, not yesterday and never.

She came closer to him and gently undid the clasp of the cloak, taking off the hood and tying the dark garment. He saw the hint of a smirk as she always did when she wanted to make a joke.

But just as her hand was about to rest on his cheek, she paused and saw in his violet eye what his mother had seen. ,,My Saphier, what's wrong? What's worrying you that it hurts, my prince?" she asked and took his hand with her other hand, seeming even more surprised to feel the slight trembling.

She slowly took off his gloves and finally her warmth met his coolness and for a moment she just continued to watch him. Skillful eyes always saw what a client needed but her prince, the perfect second son, what had shaken him so?

Slowly his hand take the warmth on his cold he always seemed cold. Slowly moving him towards the couch, the two-seater next to the bed was actually his favorite place. He listened to her there when she read him books and he combed her hair against his and told him about Vhagar and the dragons.

It was almost a sweet moment they shared, but with his stillness and tenseness, she tried to whisk him towards the bed. A soft smile on her lips, moving her hair around and already making a lurid sound, she stopped when Aemond didn't follow her. ,,I didn't want to disappoint you," he said suddenly, his violet eye looking at the floor for the first time.

Seeing how she immediately changed again she listened, trying to figure out what had happened. ,,You can never let me down," she murmured, taking her hands off him and walking to the bed alone instead, leaving it up to him if he wanted to keep talking, if his violet eyes were detached from the green in her dress, the image of his mother screaming at him.

Meanwhile, the muffled thud of pillows and furs could be heard in front of the lit fireplace in which the dark wood was burning. She sat down on the furs, her legs apart and her fingers gently, almost carefully, stroking the green fabric from her shoulders. I'll take you again and again. Her body dancing through the flames cast shadows that were slowly taken over by Aemond.

She showed him her upper body, the bare skin the sapphire necklace seemed to be the only thing still covering her, the look in her eyes invitingly caring...motherly.

Waiting for him on the fell, her arms outstretched to him, his name spilling from her lips, ,,Ameond...my darling...come here" she brought to him knowing that he wanted and needed the flattery, the praise. Knew that she could give him what he needed, even if she didn't yet know what had happened, she would find out.

Slowly, almost appathetically, he reached for the top layer of his clothing, opening the heavy leather and the expensive dark fabrics to let the cloak fall to the floor. ,,Your darling," he murmured and she saw the flash of his gemstone as he came closer to her, slowly kneeling down in front of her still expecting a blow.

But instead her hands went to his light-colored hair, twisting a few strands back and forth before she combed her fingers through it. ,,You smell of fire and smoke... have you been flying on Vhagar again?" she asked, her eyes closed, trying to feel his reaction a little, knowing that she would only trigger more nervousness in his gaze.

A question, an everyday life, an everyday life with a protector, caring, motherly, full of empathy. He felt himself slowly stop trembling, probably imagining that everything would be all right again while she was asking him. ,,Yes, we were on our way to Storm's End," he revealed after a moment of silence, hearing him exhale almost shakily, and she knew that Storm's End was the seat of House Baratheon, even a whore had a knowledge that was due in no small part to her.

A long flight of revenge and duty. Leaning forward slightly, she let one hand wander over his shoulder to his chest while her other hand continued to play with his hair.

She skillfully and slowly began to undo the buttons and the shuttles, making small noises that were drowned out by the crackling of the fire. ,,Tell me Storm's End is far away my dear, was there a reason?" she asked quietly and slowly slipped the top off his body, pulling it down his beautiful almost porcelain-like body over the small and larger scars from fighting and the cold.

But as soon as the clothes came off, she felt him tremble again as if he had the shivers. ,,Shhh not yet I'm here mother is here dear" she whispered to him giving him a gentle kiss on his sleep still playing with his hair as she began to kiss his neck and back.

Sensed that it had probably happened on Storm's End, that the smell of fire and smoke couldn't just be Vhagar, that the rain had left a few drops on him. What had happened in the air that night?

She paused again for a moment as Aemond moved slightly, she saw him lift his hips slightly to remove the leather trousers, tossing the piece carelessly into the room and yet not turning to her.

The prince slowly lay down by her again, but she didn't ask him to do anything else. She watched him, seeing his features only slightly shadowed by fire, knowing that his violet eye was coated with softness while the gemstone still flashed. ,,Stay with me, never leave me," he demanded, his hand reaching behind him to grasp hers and she sensed he was still reaching for something she wasn't aware of. She didn't have the same coldness as her, she didn't have the same life traits as her...she wasn't what had given birth to him.

She was not the woman who could beat him with a single word, a single lift of her voice...but she was a woman who came closer, a substitute for the prince who longed for love.

,,I'll never leave you Aemond, I'll stay with you right here and you'll stay in my lap with me where nothing happens...what happens doesn't matter, you understand?" she asked, exerting a barely perceptible pressure on his body, making him lie down slowly, stretching out her legs so that he could position his head correctly in her lap.

She could finally see his face when he wanted to, but he could also turn away from her at any moment. But he decided to look at her, she saw him looking at her with something like loss in his eye as she continued to play with his hair. She saw how needy he was, how needy he was in her lap.

He needed it after his journey after his flight after his anger had made him do something.

She heard him inhale almost shakily as his body shifted slightly into a fetal position and she stroked his hair again. ,,I-I...killed Lucerys," he admitted, silent tears flowing down his cheeks and he closed his eye, taking in her eagerness for a second before she relaxed again and leaned forward to embrace him in his prone position.

His hands holding onto him over the scars and old wounds, her own fingers stroked over his body, twitching to tell her when to stop or continue. The prince was someone she found joy in wanting to take care of, it was a love for him. Your jewel is mine.

And he continued to close his eyes, trying to erase the memories of his nephew, the boy who disfigured him and he got no revenge. ,,It was an accident...nothing more it will all be over my lovely...let it go" she whispered to him letting his hands continue to wander over his body stroking over scars hearing his sigh and slowly moving towards his center letting his mind wander for a moment before she began a few gentle strokes.

He felt a sigh mingling with a sob as his fingers clutched at her legs and neck and he pressed against her, trying to forget the horrible scene and all the pain inside him. Letting the mix of hatred and anger mix with excitement and lust.

He bit his lip, not wanting to let out a soft sound that would make him feel like it was his own fault if he heard himself ,,Shhh it's okay, let it go" she reminded him, her other hand wandering gently over his face, intertwining with his hands, feeling him tremble slightly as her hand on his cock lightly passed over the tip for the drops of pleasure to gather and the lustful noises in the room intensified alongside the distant music.

,,Mhh I-I uhg didn't want it," he murmured, moving his hips lightly with her gentle, quiet pace as she felt him cry, moving him lightly back and forth like a mother moving a baby back and forth in her arms, talking to him while she continued to make physical love to him.

,,I know you didn't want it...I'm not angry or disappointed Ameond" she assured him, placing gentle kisses on his head as he continued to press against her, more lustful sounds escaping his lips and tears wetting his cheeks.

She picked up the pace and lifted her hand from his lap, taking her time to let him know she was there, ,,The sight of Lu-Luce he," Aemond murmured again as he glanced at a velvety red pillow and moved into her lap, his legs resting slightly above hers and his head tucked into the crook of her neck, her hand continuing to stimulate him as she kept reassuring him that everything would be alright while he moved his hips harder and harder, his fingers digging into the fabric of the blankets and pillows.

,,I know, but I'm here, you're the prince, nothing will happen," she kept talking to him as she watched him open his closed eyes, his pink cheeks flushed with lust and his lips curled up to look at her as he sighed into the kiss and she made a sound of pleasure herself as he turned slightly and let his lips trail over her torso.

He kept kissing her and his anger and hatred, his sadness and worry seemed to slowly disappear and louder and louder noises left his lips, which were easily suppressed by the sucking on her breast. The king and prince fascinated by one and the same jewel.

He didn't know that he had the same calm expression as the king when he was in her arms but it didn't matter, she cared for the one-eyed prince, her good boy who only needed his mother one way or another, ,,I'm sorry-I'm sorry mother," she heard him murmur and saw him look briefly at her, showing a kindness and understanding that drew him into another kiss and she felt him approach his climax.

She nodded assuring him that all was well and saw his face show the mix of shame, fear, lust and pure devotion it was pure beauty. Beauty for which she was and will always be with him because she knew he would come back he was a dog of the king with the mark of a dragon.

A young man fascinated by his uncle and holding deep feelings for his nephew who is better than him beyond death in a way Aemodn could never be.

But most of all he was dependent on her, he got no care from the Dowager Queen and every time he came back to her she loved him that she knew he would come back. ,,I always love you my dear Aemond...and now let go and rest and dream of memories and times past" she commanded him as she saw the anger in his confused mind penetrate him and he let out another whimper before his body stirred slightly and he clawed at her before he poured himself into her hand with a loud moan.

She still held him through his high point, stroking his head and giving him a sort of goodnight kiss as a lullaby came over her lips and she wiped her hand on the pillows before covering herself and him with a blanket.

She felt how it took a few moments before the pain relaxed completely and, at least for a few hours, a sleep that did not make him wake up with guilt and fear in the arms of a woman, a woman who could show him affection.

She would always be his jewel, and she was prepared to accept that if the sapphire broke, she would always be there to pick up the pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ladythornofrivia , @omgsuperstarg , @girlypieee , @fadingbatmuffindonkey , @mymoonempress

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Would you be open to writing a Clarisse la rue x fem reader soulmate au

Yes.

Capture The Flag and A Soulmate Mark

Let's get one thing clear, you didn't ask for this.

You didn't ask for something to be wrong with your brain. You didn't ask for a teacher to attack you and your younger brother on a field trip.

You didn't ask for your mother to be taken from you and Percy only to be taken to some camp and told you're a “Half-Blood.”

And you didn't ask for Clarisse La Rue, from the Ares Cabin, who you found out was a god of war, to live up to her father so much.

And you most certainly didn't ask for Clarisse to be looking at you in complete anger and hatred, and to be on the opposing end of her spear.

“Can we talk about this?” you tried to evade the spear, pushing at it with your sword you got from Chiron the best you could, giving your best, nervous smile albeit it, to try and charm your way out of it.

“And why would I do that?” Clarisse asked, seething and your smile only made her appear to be more angry.

Clarisse hated you. Hated your smile. Hated your laugh. Hated your brother, Percy, especially. Hated how you talked to her, how you walked, talked, everything. Especially the feeling in her chest as she looked at you.

“Cause I would like to live-” you tried, making Clarisse glare as she finally knocked the sword out of your hand.

“(Name)!” Percy yelled, almost crawling to you as he finally evaded Clarisse’s siblings as she pushed you closer and closer to the lake.

You glanced at Percy with wide eyes, looking at Clarisse as she got closer, grabbing your arm roughly, so close to you that you could feel her breath as she got in your face.

You felt an electrical shock go down your arm, thinking for a moment it was Clarisse’s spear, only to see her staring at your arm, her spear dropped at her side.

You stared at her face, watching the shock settle in and angry under the surface simmer as she stared at your arm held in her hand, unaffected as campers gathered around, Annabeth with Percy, Chiron afar as he yelled for Clarisse to release you.

Clarisse finally looked back up at you, anger visible, but something else you tried to pin-point.

You tried looking at her hand on your arm, seeing a glimpse of a mark but before you could, Clarisse reacted.

She yelled, pushing you into the lake as you yelped, falling in and submerging in the water for a moment, hearing your brother yell and soon joining you in the water.

“What the- what was that for?!” You asked, coughing as you finally got up, completely soaked as Percy leaned onto your arm, staring at Annabeth in disbelief.

The younger girl only stared back at him, you stared back at Clarisse as she simply regarded you with a face, or more so your arm, full of something you couldn't comprehend.

Percy's fingers went to the cut on his face, feeling the pain simmer to nothing before the ones on his arm disappeared. You looked at your brother in confusion, your own fingers tracing where the cut on your cheek should've been, to feel nothing.

“I don't understand.” Percy tried, shaking his head as Annabeth said nothing, eyes lingering up from you both to above your heads.

You could hear a pin drop, feeling Annabeth and Clarisse stare not only at you and your brother, the rest of camp Half-Bloods cheered for capture the flag simmering down as they too started.

Percy saw it before you did, looking up to follow Annabeth's eyes.

Percy nudged your arm, taking your stare from Clarisse and above to stare with wide eyes, full of confusion before it dawned.

Just over your head, was a three fingered trident, glowing blue.

Annabeth's lips almost quirked up in what looked to be a smile of disbelief at how your lives were now changed.

“Your dad's calling.” Was all Annabeth offered, your eyes moving slowly from the trident of Poseidon to your arm, seeing an obvious mark there.

A soulmate mark.

Your eyes drifted to Clarisse as the rest of the campers looked on, eyes locked on her as she looked at her own hand.

You saw the same mark on her palm.

You gripped your hand in your younger brothers, not sure if it was for his comfort or you're, but Percy held it back as Chiron spoke.

“You two have been claimed…by Poseidon, Earth Shaker, Storm-Bringer. Percy and (Name) Jackson. The children of Poseidon.”

But you couldn't pay attention, too focused on Clarisse, your soulmate, right in front of you

[kirishima-eijirock]

@katsuslover asked: Making katsuki jealous by talking w deku or something and he's all sulky and a baby and u show him why he's better

a/n: omg hell yessss I made it a little angsty but I hope he’s not too OOC

You narrow your eyes at the blonde sitting right in front of you. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled into a deep frown that you’ve never seen before. Clenched fists that are slightly shaking, he glares down at the floor with such an intensity that almost frightens you. Almost.

He’s been that way for the past half an hour, with no warnings at all. It’s weird, how this morning he wasn’t giving two fucks about anyone or anything at all, and now he’s just… furious isn’t even the word to describe it. Neither is rage. This is something else, and you knew it.

“Kats, just spit it out already.”

You’ve been trying to coax an explanation out of him for the past twenty-seven minutes, and yes, you’ve been counting. He’s never hid his anger from you. Or anyone, actually. But definitely not you.

“Kats, I swear to god, if you don’t start saying anything then I’ll go back to my conversation with Midoriya—”

“Get that bastard’s name out of your mouth.”

It was a quick mumble. A short demand. A command, if you will. He’s never said shit about Midoriya with such pure hatred that it did confuse you, and you started to question if you really understood Katsuki in the first place. 

His brow furrowed and his teeth gritted, his glare shifts from the floor to your shoulder, avoiding your direct gaze. He couldn’t bring himself to glare at you, no. The last thing that he wanted to do was to direct his anger at you. You were one of the most precious people in his life, and he wasn’t gonna risk anything, much less even glaring, to fuck it up. But looking down and glaring at the floor looked utterly pathetic, too. So his eyes dart from the wall behind you, to your shoulder and neck, but never your face. You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t your fault, either.

He knew it’s not your fault, so why did it sting so much to hear you laughing with that bastard? He didn’t get it.

“Never mind. ‘M fine. It’s nothing.”

“Kats, you can’t be mad like that and not explain yourself.”

It’s true. He knew that he owed you an explanation, and a good one. Shame crept up on him as he realised that he snapped at you. That you were on the receiving end of his anger. The promise he made to himself— to never, ever make you upset, or to ever let you feel like the reason that he’s mad— was now broken in his eyes.

“I’m… sorry. For snapping at you. It’s not your fault,” he mumbled under his breath. 

It wasn’t snapping, but he hated the fact that he still could have upset you. 

“Kats, it’s okay. I’m fine, I promise. What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything that’s on your mind, right?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled, though it’s clear that his snapping only made him more irritated with himself.

“It’s not nothing if you’re…” you trail off, not wanting to point out the current tears in his eyes. 

“Huh? I’m what?” Still oblivious to the tears, he looked around and found nothing.

“Kats, seriously. Tell me, now.”

The firm gaze directed at him from your eyes made him freeze, and the gentle tone in your voice made him hesitate. He was surprised, to say the least, that you were still here, trying to help him while he stood there in front of you like an idiot. If you left now, he wouldn’t have been surprised. In fact, he understood why you would do that, and he couldn’t blame you. This emotional, vulnerable part of him finally showed for the first time in your relationship. 

It surprised you, just a little. You knew he hated showing emotions besides happiness and the occasional happiness, but never tears. He never cried solely in front of you, at least.

He felt weak, so… pathetic. 

And on the other hand, you were there, trying to help him and coax some coherent words out of him, before finally giving up with a sigh

“Kats, if you don’t wanna talk, then we can save that for another time. I won’t push you any further if you’re getting uncomfortable.”

He’s never felt comfort like this. Not warmth, or such gentleness either. It’s so new to him, but in the best ways that he couldn’t describe. 

What was this feeling? His heart was bittersweet now. His loathing towards Midoriya was worsening, but the sweetness in your voice was making it fade away slowly.

“I promise I’m fine,” he rasped out. 

“Okay, Kats. As long as you’re alright,” you murmured, not really pushing him to speak unless he really wanted to.

He took a deep breath, not sure how to address the issue.

“Look, I don’t know what to feel when you’re talking to that damn Deku,” he stated plainly.

“You don’t know what to feel? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not stopping you from having friends, okay? I just don’t like how giggly and shit you were with him,” he huffed.

“Well… why not?”

“It just bugs me, that’s all. Just feel like I should be the reason you’re laughing. Not him.” 

Oh. It finally clicked in your mind. He was jealous. You wanted to point it out, but it could sour his mood further, so you decided against it for the time being.

“Well, if that was the case, you could have just told me. I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

You were too sweet, too understanding. It was hard for him to believe that he deserved it. That he deserved you. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really, Kats. You don’t need to worry that I’ll be upset, okay?” 

He nodded slowly, still not used to this amount of sincerity and care from someone.

He was never this soft, or vulnerable to anyone. You, however, were an exception. He wasn’t afraid to show it to you, and even though he wasn’t used to it, he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. 

“Thanks…” a soft mumble of thanks left his lips, happy how this confrontation went.

@angelshimaa angst for you :)))

[hana-no-seiiki]

Can you write something about yaoshi?thou their design is very pretty (⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)

Let's say we're their fav human/god

I hope this makes sense

We don’t know much about the Aeons yet, so don’t expect this to be an accurate representation of what Yaoshi acts like. I’ll give ya two versions (human and aeon reader).

(YANDERE?) YAOSHI x READER (ft. Other Aeons)

warnings: ddne, mind break, power imbalance, massive age gap & infantilization(for the human section), yandere themes in general, somnophillia.

note: from what i read in yaoshi’s lore what i wrote feels like something the canon character would do hence the question mark

status: unedited

STORY ONE : TO LIVE IN ABUNDANCE | Doctor ! Reader

I.

Yaoshi could not fathom why one would not wish for eternal life. Life was the most beautiful thing in existence. Wondrous, with a diversity one could not begin to imagine. Yet, there exists people who desire for existence to come to a halt, many who wish for their teachings and gifts to end.

You were one of those people.

Despite your occupation as a doctor, you believed that every patient had a right to choose their destiny. Whether it be to continue fighting for their lives or to die peacefully in their death beds, who were you to decide what happens to them? You were only the nurturer and provider. Even the best doctor in their field has to let go of a patient when it came down to it. For life is only beautiful, meaningful when it has to diminish one day.

And in spite of your beliefs, Yaoshi decided to bless you to join him in his path.

Your world was shaken.

Why were you of all people chosen by this Aeon?

Sure, you were fully dedicated to career. But if anything, your views were more aligned to the Archer Lord of Fate. You have had many Mara strucken, the victims of Yaoshi’s ‘gifts’, pass away before your very eyes. Beasts who have long lost their minds and ability to choose what future they’ll follow. If you had a choice, without a heartbeat

Several millenia pass with you never aging. Generals that ruled come and go.

And now, because of their so-called kindness, you were banished from Xianzhou. Your home. Thrusted into the embrace of space and void,

and none other than the Aeon that doomed you.

“Child. You have come home at last.”

II.

If you were born into a different culture, perhaps a planet that worshipped the Aeon before you, maybe then you would be elated with your current happenstance.

But this was not the case unfortunately.

You spend around a decade filled with hatred and anger. Hurling the most venomous words and even attempting to harm their being. Of course, none of your actions do anything to help your situation.

A century was spent trying to convince them to let you go, to rescind their blessing and leave you to live your life as a mortal.

They refused, stating that it would saddened them to lose you.

It gets close to another century with how long you spent in tears. For the loss of your loved ones that had left you to go to the afterlife. For the situation you were forced into. As you cried and cried, all Yaoshi could do was embrace you using their many arms. It was a peculiar feeling at first but unfortunately became comforting soon enough.

And after all that you finally gave in.

Yaoshi did not seem surprised at all. In fact what awaited your complete acceptance was a gentle smile. One akin to a parent seeing their child come back home after running away in a fit.

“We can finally begin the preparations.”

“For what?” Your voice, hoarse and abused by your depressed barely came out.

“For our wedding.”

iii.

You were used to their multi-armed touches, their inhuman way of showing affection towards you. But nothing could prepare you for the consummation.

You don’t remember anything. Throughout the whole process you were extremely disassociated to the point of being catatonic.

This, this was your life now. Stuck to a god as a human who has far outlived their expiration date. Slowly yet surely your mind corroded.

And even as your body was littered with the golden allure of ginkgo leaves, your freedom never came.

Yaoshi did end up releasing you from their grasp to roam the cosmos freely. People from all over the universe called you the Golden Wanderer, or the Sanctus Medicus Saint.

But what was the point?

Even with your endless fame and immortality. You were a dead man walking.

Waiting, hoping, that one day someone would grant you mercy a god of life and everything beautiful in it could not.

STORY TWO : TO DIE IN THE LIGHT | AEON OF DREAMS - IMAGINARY ELEMENT ! READER

i.

In the time humanity and civilizations began to rise. You were created within the womb of the universe representing a concept. Dreams. Though you most presided over preferable ones, you were known to give unending nightmares to those that slighted you and your domain.

In the grand scheme of Aeons, you were neutral. Never straying from the unbiased perspective of a god. Those that worshipped and favored you get rewarded, those that dirtied your name were punished.

For that you were often looked down upon by your fellow gods, seen as indecisive with your head literally and figuratively stuck in the clouds.

Yaoshi used to be one of them. They had a difficult time understanding how one could live without ever peeling their eyes to the grandiose aesthetics of the world.

They soon began to fall in love with your fair — beautiful and impartial — self.

And if those mara-struck beings were anything to go off of . . .

Their infatuation spelt your doom.

ii.

There you were. Your form shone brilliantly under the light of the moons and stars that seemed to dangle above you.

Even a god snored, and snored you did. But to Yaoshi this hoarse sound was music. No, even more than that.

It was a reminder that throughout the eons, you two are alive. Together. Breathing.

Yaoshi visited your slumbering body frequently to the point that it became a risk. That Lan would sometimes stand guard over you in case they would come, or have the Xianzhou oversee your vicinity. Not many mortals can hold up against the Aeon however, and if it meant having to go against their path in order to see you — the choice was obvious.

Their stays mostly consisted of performing lullabies and poetry of how both your and their followers adored your seemingly romantic partnership, to your blissfully unaware body.

At least that’s what they thought.

iii.

Contrary to popular belief, your most devoted of followers do not eternally sleep. Nor do the majority spend a lot of their sleeping. In order to spread your name, a lot chose to stay awake. Because if there was anything your true followers loved more than a good nap it was you.

As such, not known to many people or gods, you had a vast network of knowledge. A lot of what people learn and experience appear in dreams, and once the more fantastical ones were taken off the list, you were left with a near infinite amount of information.

Humans have also mastered a way of communion with you.

Case in point, you had long known about Yaoshi’s visits. You were the one that asked Lan to aid you. Breaking your self imposed rule of impartiality.

But all is for naught.

Misinformation had spread far too wide and the delusions Yaoshi infected the world with overpowered your truth.

Their acquisition of you was as tranquil and hurdle free as it could be.

While you were caged by Yaoshi, another Aeon swore to bring you back.

Ending life and therefore your deeply unconscious state. A state which they saw as involuntary. A cage infinitely worse than the Aeon of Harmony kept you in.

And the first Stellaron was born.

a/n: i imagine human reader, especially post yaoshi adoption, to be like a lifesteal-tank sort of abundance character. only ever healing(mostly themself) if they attack/hurt the enemy, which would go against what yaoshi wants. i might draw a design for them actually. the type that if you build well, won’t ever die. but any battle with them would take a really long time since their damage is pp in comparison to other characters at the very least.

[link to the design/drawing here if i ever finish it]

[here’s a link to another aeon related fic]

i wanted to include both versions here before i uploaded this even if the first one is so long cause i just know im never gonna write a part two if ever lol. and yes, the aeon in the last bit is nanook.

want more hsr fics/have an idea for one? send me an ask or submission ❤️

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[imaginesbymonika]

She’s electric | Part 1

Pairing: Liam Gallagher x fem!bassist reader

Plot: Liam’s hatred for Blur runs deep. However, no matter how much he hates them and their stupid music - he cannot seem to hate their bassist.

A/N: i’ve got a disgusting crush on that old man (please don’t tweet him)

(1995, at the after-show party of the Brit Music Awards)

God.

Liam shakes his head in disapproval. Just looking at them made him want to hurl his drink against one of those huge pretentious speakers, the ones blasting nothing but stupid pop music. How the actual fuck did Blur manage to win 4 bloody Brit Awards tonight? His eyes move from Damon’s figure to the woman standing next to him and he brings the beer bottle up to his lips again. Y/N. Fuck. Never in his life did he feel so irritated by a woman.

She’s throwing her head back in laughter and Liam bites his lips in sheer annoyance. He silently observes how she takes a step to the side before walking over to the nearest bar, she says something to the bartender and her index finger goes up to point at something that's written on the chalkboard. Liam takes one final deep breath from his cigarette before ultimately making his way in her direction- his iconic walk and bitter face paint the picture of a man who’s about to show her his absolute worst behavior.

“Congrats on ya’ little bands award.”

“Thanks.”, is all she says as she takes a sip of her drink. Her gaze moves up to meet his. “That’s it? Yer not going to brag about it?” But Y/N merely scoffs:” I’m not like you, I don’t need to rub our success into everyone's faces.” Maybe he would have laughed at that if her words didn’t upset him as much as they did:” Come on. You must be feeling all arrogant about it- getting all the awards us better bands didn’t.”

Y/N chuckles dryly and takes another sip:” But you’re not.” She notices how his cheeks turn red in bitterness. It was almost too easy. “You guys are alright.”

She feels how around her some people are beginning to look their way, after all, it’s not typical to see an Oasis singer talk to a Blur bassist. Everyone is well aware of how the two brothers feel about their rival band.

Y/N takes a pack of cigarettes from her purse and puts one in between her red-painted lips. The anger is practically radiating off of Liam at this point. “Just alright? We’re better than alright. You’re just delusional.”, his angry gaze shifts to the cigarettes. He scoffs again, but can’t help himself:” Can I have one?”

It makes the woman chuckle in response and without letting out another word she hands him the pack and a lighter. She observes him as he takes one out and lights it up. There is a moment of stillness between the two, and when they make eye contact again there’s an emotion in Liam’s eyes that Y/N can’t quite read.

“You know.”, he lets out a sigh that could be perceived as defeat:” You’re a lot more tolerable than I thought you’d be.” It almost makes her laugh:” Am I supposed to say thank you?” Liam rolls his eyes but there is a hint of a smile forming on his lips: “You’re not supposed to say anything, love. I’m being serious. You’re not half as annoying as your little band is.” He exhales the smoke and watches how it vanishes in the air.

“What an honor.”, Y/N says:” The great Liam Gallagher thinks im not entire shite.”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. But you know we make the better music.”, he takes another drag of his cigarette. Leaning against the bar he orders himself a new beer. “I’ve been trying to talk to Damon for months now, he always brushes me off.”

At that, Liam’s eyes widen and he narrowly leans forward, looking like a shark who smelt fresh blood:” So you agree with me.” The grin is primarily predatory.

“Not entirely.”

“What do you mean, not entirely? Either you agree with me, Princess. Or you don’t.”

“First of all, don’t call me Princess, you arrogant prick.”, her voice is angry, however, Liam catches a glimpse of a tiny grin forming on her features. But it quickly disappears behind the champagne glass:” I am not drunk enough to deal with someone as pissed as you!” “I’m not pissed, Princess. I’m just saying we were robbed.” “Please. You’re so pissed, it’s making me pissed.”

Liam takes a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to steady himself:” I don’t know why I am still talking to you.” At that, Y/N just chuckles drily. Does he really think, that she hasn’t noticed the way he was staring at her all night? “Well, then go. You came to me.”

The singer studies her for a second and opens his mouth to say something in return, but gets cut off by Damon’s voice. He is yelling her name from somewhere and Y/N twists her head to look for him. Once she spots him she sighs and quickly opens her purse:” One last thing before I leave.” She takes out her pen and snatches Liam’s forearm. With one swift movement, she signs her name on his skin:” For our number 1 fan.” She chuckles softly before vanishing into the crowd.

“No, wait.”, Liam calls out but she is already gone. His eyes move down to the writing on his arm, his fingers are softly moving over the ink. He takes another drag of his cigarette and shakes his head in disbelief, however, he can’t shake this new feeling off of him. He was still pissed about her band and their wins. But she… she has a smart mouth, is drop-dead gorgeous, and is a damn good bassist. He hates her already.

An hour later Y/N crosses her arms and places her head on Damon’s shoulders. Currently, Brad Pitt is talking something about something and it is possibly the most monotonous thing in the entire world.

“Who the hell ya’ staring’ at?” Liam can’t help but cringe slightly at the sound of his brother’s voice, who is now standing beside him. “None of your business, mate.”, he mutters, rather angrily. But Noel shakes his head:” Bullshit! I know that look. You ogling the bassist of Blur again, weren’t ya’?” Noel raises an eyebrow:” Thought you hated that band.”

“I do hate that band, she’s just- different.”

“Yeah, different because you think she’s fit, mate.”

Liam’s eyes widen at his brother’s bluntness and he furrows his eyebrows. He suddenly feels extremely exposed. Y/N sighs and lifts her head before scanning the room for the exit sign and quickly making her way toward it. People in the crowd attempt to stop her in hopes of getting to speak to her, but she just brushes them off.

“You’re going after her, or what?”

Liam glances at his brother before lighting up a new cigarette:” What d’ya mean? I’m not going to follow her around like some abandoned puppy. I ain’t going to chase her, you wanker.” Noel laughs at that:” Oh come on. Don’t lie to me, mate. You’re obsessed with her, go on. Follow her.”

Liam swallows thickly. He does want to follow her, there was no denying it. He wants to continue their discussion, listen to her snarky tone, and see that smart mouth in action again. Noel watches how his brother throws the cigarette into the nearest ashtray before wordlessly making his way toward the exit as well.

[ratgrinders]

anyways ivy embra post because on god if she wont get the scenes in canon ill imagine it myself

Ivy and Oisin were friends in middle school. Oisin was still scrawny and hadn't had his growth spurt yet and Ivy hadn't yet gotten her braces taken off. They meet each other in some group project or club or whatever, the setting doesn't matter, but what happens is you have these two children with the inherent shittiness of middle schoolers who maybe haven't had the easiest time making friends because their passive aggressiveness is too aggressive, their barbs not hidden. And they act the same way with this new, kind of nerdy looking stranger they meet and find a kindred spirit. All of a sudden you're 12/13 years old with an outlet for all the shittalking about your classmates you want. You stick together like glue, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you two because they all fuckin suck anyway, and you finally found someone who isn't a wuss and can give as good as they take.

Oisin gets better at hiding it though, being raised by a long family line of evil dragons who have had to hide their connections in plain sight will do that to you. Ivy never lost that edge around her though.

The first day of classes Freshman Year at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, Oisin's met with this group of randos, they seem competent enough, the tall sad one seems nice enough if a bit of a pushover and the small one with the ponytail seems to have her entire academic career planned out already. She's intent on the name the High Five Heroes, it's a pun, get it? Because there's five of them. But Oisin won't go anywhere without his best friend. He pulls Ivy over, and Ivy isn't having the best luck finding a party (she insults them saying why would she want to join a party with any of these losers anyway, when they're put off by one pointed comment too many). Oisin tells the others they could do well with a fighter, that they're sticking together. The tall one, the gnome, and the kobold don't seem to mind (or don't care), but the halfling seems to have swallowed a lemon. "Well, there's six of us now which throws off the entire point of the name, but that's fine! I don't care!" (she's stubborn and doesn't want to change it).

Ivy and Kipperlilly clash CONSTANTLY. Kipperlilly's specific brand of Type A nerdiness and uptightness clashes horrifically with Ivy's specific attitude of not giving a fuck and chronic need to get under people's skin. And yet, Kipperlilly's barely concealed rage and passive aggression leads that same realization Ivy had back in middle school, of having finally found a kindred spirit. If there's two things Kipperlilly and Ivy have in common, it's their initial impression driving most people away, and their need to externalize this jealousy and bad feelings as hatred and disdain for others. They LOVE gossiping. Ivy's always down to be a hater.

Corsica Jones, the fighter teacher, sees Ivy come in on the first day of classes, bow in hand, and is immediately reminded of the sister she lost, who is still missing. Every time she trains Ivy on her stance, on basic hand-to-hand, she's reminded of the times she taught her sister the very same things. She's worried, because Ivy always seems so closed off and not very engaged, so full of rage. Unfortunately Corsica's attempts to reach out and forge a connection are stopped in their infancy when instead the barbarian teacher takes an interest in her. "Well, at least she has support from someone on the faculty, even if it isn't me."

It's Oisin that kills her. They always go off as a pair anyway, and Oisin may have been acting off recently but who is she to judge a bit of anger. But a quick stab to the back, one Choice later, and all Ivy can think about is rage.

After the Mountains of Chaos, Ivy's disdain becomes Venomous. Suddenly its not fun gossip but outright Hatred, its saying words maximized for cruelty directly to the person's face, because there's a kind of sick vindication in hurting the people who rejected you for so long, even if they may not deserve it. She and Kipperlilly don't get along anymore, snide comments and petty jabs devolving into screaming matches and insults. She proposes the name Rat Grinders with Oisin, because her stubbornness at refusing to change the name isn't endearing anymore, and there are six of them, did you oppose me joining the party that badly? It's a bit funny to see her so worked up over a stupid party name, that kind of earnest childish straightforwardness of the High Five Heroes makes her gag. The Rat Grinders is a funny inside joke, and Ivy is not comfortable engaging anymore without that layer of irony. For some reason, it doesn't feel good in the same way to hurt Kipperlilly like this, it just leave a knot of frustration that rankles in her stomach, because why does she care so much??

When Lucy dies, she doesn't remember much. She remembers the realization at the choice she'd made, and the rage that followed. Afterwards, though, was a deep all consuming bitterness. Of course she wasn't coming back, little miss goody two shoes never had any intentions of following through and left the rest of us with the fallout. She never expected otherwise, and she refuses to mourn someone who did not give enough of a shit about them to come back. She doesn't think about how Lucy helped her bleach her hair, how she braided Lucy's in return. How Lucy's birthday was coming up and she bought her new clothes, how that bag will stay unopened in her room now.

When she dies on the floor of her high school gymnasium, desperately defending every callous insult she's made with her dying breath, her last moments are spent locking eyes with her best friend, who is looking on in horror. She thinks back to a similar scenario, last year, when that same friend saw her dying and did nothing. She thinks back to them in seventh grade, trading childish insults without any real weight. And then she doesn't think anything at all.

[viviennevermillion]

just don't say love

✧ summary: he sought you out whenever the pain got too much to handle. he didn't want to know what that made you; feared the day you would ask him how he felt.

✧ contains: blade x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, blade being vulnerable, cuddles, local immortal is scared of feelings, 1.4k words

✧ now playing: say love — james tw

✧ warnings: blade's chronic depression, blade being suicidal, graphic violence (flashbacks to jingliu), angst

He had loved before. He remembered the feeling of genuinely looking forward to seeing another person, to spend his time with those he held dear. His heart had been whole and vulnerable and it had ended with this terrible curse that made him suffer every single day since he woke up in this immortal body and since his former friend drove the blade of her sword through his body over and over again.

Blade was tossing and turning in his quarters, nightmares plaguing his mind even after he woke up. His hands were shaking again and the darkness of the night suddenly reminded him of that day. Of how he died over and over again only to heal and be in pain once more.

He remembered her hateful eyes. Jingliu. How he felt phantom pain in every part of his body at just the mention of her name. He wanted to die. He never wanted to suffer. He sat up in shock as images flashed his mind of how his vision had suddenly ceased when she drove her sword through his head and he felt only pain for... god knows how long. He had, to this day, no idea how long the encounter lasted. Whether she did this for 5 minutes, 30 or perhaps even an hour. It felt like an eternity of only suffering to him.

Blade let out a bitter laugh as he remembered that he had once sat at the same table with her and the rest of the High Cloud Quintet; joking and drinking together. That seemed like someone else's fever dream out of some sort of novel now. He could no longer recognize these memories as something that actually happened to him, not after "Dan Heng" had killed him over and over again when he had tried to hunt the Vidyadhara down across the stars; not after Jingliu had driven her blade through his heart and pierced his lungs repeatedly after he had felt the pain of his muscle fibers and organs regenerating and stitching themselves back together in his guts. Not after he had begged her to stop, begged her for mercy. There was no response. Just endless pain making him fade in and out of consciousness.

Blade clutched his pillow to his chest, feeling like he wasn't getting enough air. But he was used to the feeling. To the pain, the hatred, the anger. That was what kept him moving forward; hoping one day the end would come. It was like toxic fuel in his veins, making him lead a miserable existence. But it was better than doing nothing whilst suffering. So long as there was hatred and the urge for revenge in his heart; he felt as though nothing could push him past a point where there was no going back. He had felt it all before; he had become numb to it. Sometimes, when the pain got too much, his brain would just shut down for a while. It was the closest thing he had to actually being dead. It was something he had gotten used to and with time became impartial to. Why should he care at this point?

But he hated you. Hated the way you quelled the mara within him. He had gotten so accustomed to a life of suffering and pain that he didn't know how to deal with what you made him feel. He expected himself to remain cold, expected to just see you as another stepping stone on his path to death like the other Stellaron Hunters. His eyes had widened in shock and it had felt like every nerve in his body was screaming at him to run when he, against all expectations, completely broke down the first time your hand gently carressed his cheek. For the last few decades at least, everytime someone touched him, he had to expect to feel like a training dummy or a punching bag. His default association with touch had become violence. Not whatever this was.

He had flinched, started shaking. You had retracted your hand in horror, apologizing profusely for causing this reaction in him. Blade just shook his head under quiet sobs, unable to get a word out. He got up and left the room. He didn't talk to you for at least two weeks after that and you had glanced at him in longing; feeling terrible for the encounter. Most of the time he avoided you all-together. You wondered if things would ever go back to the way they were. You had been on good terms before, even felt like you were getting a glimpse behind the walls he had built around his heart. You just had to go ahead and ruin it.

Little did you know that within that time he had avoided you, he was trying to process a realization that terrified him more that the prospect of someone driving a blade through him again. He liked your touch. He craved it. And he hadn't been prepared for it; hadn't been prepared for the prospect of just losing his whole composure like this. He didn't think it was possible. He had allowed you to see him this vulnerable; see the broken man who hid behind the cold exterior and it had deeply embarrassed him. It had made him feel pathetic. He couldn't look you in the eyes again after that.

That was, until the day he found himself in front of your door again, at 2am nonetheless. He couldn't take the distance anymore. You had looked at him with surprise; unsure what to say to him after he had acted like he would love to forget you even existed for two weeks. So you simply opened the door further, gesturing for him to come in. You were just staring at him wordlessly, waiting for him to say something; anything. "Please... do it again", he croaked out and your eyes had widened in shock. "Excuse me-?", you blinked a few times in disbelief when Blade had stepped closer, taken your hand into his and pressed it to his cheek again, leaning into your touch and closing his eyes as if wanting to savor every second of this sensation, should you decide to end all of this right here and now. But you didn't. You had pulled him closer, held him and let him melt into your embrace. You allowed him to cry, not saying a word about it. You had kissed his tears away and he let it happen without question. Blade wouldn't have thought that a man who wanted nothing more than to die could find a lifeline.

He hated you. Hated how this had become a routine. On nights like this, when the pain got too bad and the past haunted him until he could only see flashes of distant memories in front of his inner eye; he found himself at your doorstep every time. He hated how readily you accepted him into your arms when you felt him slip under your blanket and snuggle up to you again, feeling your warmth and the way your fingers gently trailed along the old scars from back then. He hated the way you kissed him so tenderly, held his face in your hands like he was fragile. Because he knew deep inside that in these moments that was the truth. He was so vulnerable when it came to you and scared of the possibility that you'd take this away from him and hurt him the way others had done. Yes, Blade was used to the hatred and violence. It no longer felt like something that could break him. But being loved... being loved made him feel like a scared little fawn in the middle of the road; not moving away despite expecting that you'd run him over with your vehicle any moment now and leave him there until his bones realigned themselves and healed under unspeakable pain, all for the small possibility that you'd instead patiently wait under the moonlight and let him come to you to take him home.

"It's one of those days, hmm?", you whispered softly, your heart aching for him. Blade just nodded and nuzzled your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say. You usually made idle small-talk with him, tried to distract him. You never dared speak about what was happening between the two of you. After all, so long as you didn't say anything, you knew he was going to come back.

And Blade didn't comment on it either. He didn't know how to and he was terrified to. Whatever you two were, it was safely concealed within the walls of this room. None of the other Stellaron Hunters knew about it and he intended to keep it that way. He didn't want to risk ruining things; didn't want to risk the possibility that you might never hold him again like this. He didn't want to admit to himself that he didn't actually hate you. How the frustration in his heart had simply taken the place of something he didn't allow himself to feel. To admit.

That he loved you.

He loved you so much and nothing scared him more than that.

[thesadadventurersgame]

The sad adventurers

Play as sadness incarnated, being revered as a deity and condemned to cry for the rest of eternity. Join an thrilling adventure with mortals you just met and, for the first time in your life, make real friends! (and try not to make them cry while they're around you and your contagious sadness). Will you help you new friends get what they want or will you get in their way?

The story will have two main points of view: Mc's and Antara Al-Amin's, other characters will also have their own POVs, but they will be shorter and won’t allow you to make choices.

(This is a wip that, unfortunately, will take time to be completed. English is not my first language and I do this just for fun, if you see any typo, please tell me!)

“In the beginning, there was only happiness. The first goddess was born from all the laughs in the world. A woman who shines every time someone laughs or smiles, never sad or angry. Love came soon after, from the desire to share this happiness, from the desire to care and be cared for. They loved and love everything they see. But, when mortal men were expelled from paradise, when they first began to feel pain and cried, from their tears emerged sadness. A deity who cried, cries and will cry forever and ever, cradling all the sadness in the world in their arms. They did not come alone though. Anger, their brother, came from the blood that men have shed and will be strengthened by it in the future. He can never be satisfied and will never be satiated, nothing makes him smile more than pure hatred. and, finally, came Fear. Born from the fear of feeling sadness, pain, fear of losing control of your own feelings, your own body, fear from being hurt and hurting. that’s where he came from.

But, before all of them, we, mortals, were born. The many fruits of the immense tree the love between life and death is. Unlike the Gods, we can feel all types of emotions proportionally and unproportionally. Only we can feel everything and feel nothing at the same time, Without us, the Gods would be nothing. But we are never satisfied, are we? we want everything until there is nothing left and will do everything, everything we can to have it. Everything to have at least one wish, any wish, fulfilled.

In ancient books it is said that if you can gather: hapinness tears, sadness laughter, the blood of love boiling with hate, a little ounce of love from hate and a demonstration of courage from fear, life itself will grant you one wish, ANY wish! That's why I brought you all together here. Together we can make history!” the man closes the book in front of him, smiling from ear to ear. “So? What do you guys say?”

𖦹 Customizable MC

ꕀ Name, personality, species, gender, sexuality, pronouns, appearence, level of naivety, hobbies, your control over your own powers and more

𖦹 Romance 1 (or more) of 6 romanceable love interests

𖦹 Choose between helping the adventurers achieve their goals or completely hindering them

𖦹 Define how you fell and interact with the other gods, as well with your own divinity

Ro’s:

Antara Al-Amin (27) | The leader | (he/him)

An adventurous and brave man. He was the one who brought your group together and is also, the leader. He makes you curious, no one has ever tried such a thing before, no one has ever been foolish enough, and yet there he is, sure that everything will work out.

Everything you do seems to mesmerize Antara, and he seems to do everything just to see your smile, failing miserably most of the times, but never giving up.

You do not know what his wish is going to be, but you know he won't give up on it, no matter what.

Species: Human

Apparence and personality: Antara is a slender but strong tall man, measuring approximately 1.80m. His umber skin is covered in scars from past adventures, which he brags about endlessly. His midnight black hair is styled in long dreadlocks and his amber eyes sparkle with a mischief that he doesn't care to hide. According to him, his stubble is his charm. He prefers masculine clothes, but likes to dress feminine in formal occasions. Antara has a flirtatious and outgoing personality, throwing himself into the arms of anyone willing to hold him for the night. it's clear to you that he cares about everyone in the group, including you, which is silly, but you don’t dislike it.

Rajinder Khan (28) | A good friend | (He/Him or She/Her)

Rajinder at first only joined the group because of Antara, their childhood friend, as they thought that Antara was going completly insane, fearing for his friends life. However, the promise that their greatest wish could be granted was also a factor, who would deny such oportunity after all?

Rajinder was the first to protest when Antara allowed you to join the group. They seem to have a great aversion to showing emotions, especially sadness, maybe that’s why they ignores you everytime they can.

Species: Human

Apparence and personality: Rajinder is a tall (2.00,m 1.98,f) heavy built person. Their golden skin is covered in freckles from head to toe. Male Rajinder keeps his hair in a military cut, female Rajinder wears short braids, both have black hair and almond eyes. They prefer more gender neutral clothing. Rajinder has a distant and cold personality, speaking only when needed.

Yueling Bai (25) | The liar | (She/Her, They/Them or He/Him)

The first thing you learned when joining the group was that you cannot trust a single word that comes out of Yueling’s mouth, for every ten words they say, nine are lies. The only thing they don’t seem to lie about is about how they feel about you and the others.

Yueling is a notorious liar and a extremely famous mercenary, that’s why Antara invited them in the first place, They have many skills that can be extremely useful. Every time the groups wishes are mentioned, Yueling is the first to try to change the subject, or they come up with a new wish. You are not going to lie, this worrys you, but there’s nothing you can do, for all you know, they can't even have a wish yet. They're neutral towards you joining in the group, and find the way you affect their emotions annoying, but despite that, they still treat you with polite deference (sometimes)

Bonus: They grew up within one of the kingdoms in your territory, which is embarrassing since you don't remember most of them.

Species: Half-elf

Apparence and personality: Yueling has a lanky body and is avarage in height (1.64), with olive colored skin, covered in tattos. Their straight short hair flows freely below their jaw, a small red clip pinning their bangs to the top of their head. They wear scarlet-red paint around their eyes which perfectly harmonizes with their jet black iris. Female and male Yueling prefer clothes generally assigned to the gender they identify with, however non-binary Yueling will prefer more masculine clothes. Yueling is a born liar, their playful personality, for all you know, could be another one of their various lies, but you like it.

Felix/Felicia Bellerose (22) | The runaway princet | (He/Him or She/Her)

F comes from the second most powerful empire in the world, Tartarus, a troubled place led by a tyrannical and sadistic Queen, their mother, Hild Bellerose, more know as the “Red Queen”. F's dream has always been to free his empire from Hild’s clutches, but they never had the courage to do so, being raised to be complient and obedient, going against their mother was like a fever dream. Luckily, they know the right people. They joined the group with the help of their royal guard, who helped them escape from the palace during the night. They don't seem prepared to fight, at all, good thing they have their charisma.

They're easily impressed by you and your powerss, treating you with deference.

Species: Vampire

Bonus: Tartarus is one of the kingdoms under Gunnar's territory, you can choose how to feel about it.

Apparence and personality: F is an tall (1.85m 1.82f) skinny person, with pale ivory skin and red eyes. Their curly, sunset-blonde hair is tied in a low ponytail with a crimson red ribbon if male and falls on their shoulders freely if female. They use a big black umbrella during the day and round sunglasses, if female, F will prefer feminine clothes, but doesn’t have a preference if male. F is a shy, air-headed person and a huge people pleaser, but, when needed, they are extremely charismatic and flirtatious. They will do everything to please their companions. They have a really hard time making choices by themselves.

Aza Bonheur (24) | The (un)lucky one | (She/Her)

Aza is F's royal guard and their biggest co-conspirator against Hild, she’s the one who convinced the princet to join the group and is one, if not the only, of their closest friends. She can easily be considered one of the strongest person of the group and strangely, she doesn't seem to have a wish to make.

Aza has an supernatural level of luck (good and bad), which is defined by a magical coin that she carries with her everywhere. She also appears to be able to steal other people's good luck and can transfer good or bad luck to others. She never mentions how she gained these “powers”, avoiding the subject as much as she possible can.

She treats you with deference but has her suspicions about you.

Species: Human

Apparence and personality: Aza is a strong women of avarege height (1,72), with green eyes and rose beige skin, covered from head to toe in scars. Her almond-colored hair is short and gelled back, showing the scar that runs from one side of her face to the other. Aza has a tough but kind personality. She is a serious woman who doesn't fool around but has a passion for drinking games. She doesn't have a preference for clothes, when she is not wearing her armour, she likes to wear anything as long as it is practical.

Douglas, Fear itself | The one who vanished | (He/They)

Douglas is the only God to not have an counterpart. When you were younger, Douglas was a shy and fearful boy, always in the most darkest of the corners, watching everyone cautiously. Neither you nor the other gods remember a thing about Douglas, because, when you separated, all the memories you had of him disappeard...but they seem to be coming back.

You don't know how, but you will find him.

Species: Vampire

Apparence and personality: You remember Douglas as a tall and slim boy, his tanned skin was always sickly pale and he had huge, dark circles under his eyes. Deep crimson red eyes that were always wide open. His hair was dark and oily, going down his back. All you can remember is how he trembled looking at you and the others.

Non ro’s:

Gunnar, Hatred itself | your brother | (he/him)

Gunnar, your dearest brother and the most hot-headed person you've ever met. You are the only person and thing that makes him smile other than hatred and violence. You spent a good part of your life clinging to him. In times of war, where your sadness was so deep that you couldn't stop sobbing and screaming, even if his blood was so hot to the point of melting his skin, he never stopped taking care of you, staying by your side all the time.

You do know where he is.

Species: Demon

Appearance and personality: Gunnar is a very tall man (2.00) with muscular build, and appears to be approximately 30 years old. His white hair falls over his shoulders like waterfalls and his porcelain skin is often red and burnt because of his blood, which boils at the slightest provocation. He has red eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. He does not prefer a specific type of clothing, but generally wears more androgynous clothing. Gunnar hot-headed, mean and sadistic

Bonus: Gunnar is aromantic

Ahladita, Hapinness itself | your counterpart | (She/Her)

You and Ahladita were always fighting in your youth. For being counterparts, the mere presence of each other could ruin the other's work in mere seconds. While she was trying to make something happy, you soon came to make the same thing sad and vice versa. If she tried to make a place sunny, you came to make it rainy, but she always had extra advantage, she was older and trained her powers much more than you did. You can choose whethever this rivalry has passed into adulthood or not

If you are not rivals in adulthood, you will know where she is ;if you are rivals, then you won't.

Species: Fairy

Appearance and personality: Ahladita takes the shape of a woman in her early 20s, who has a curvy body of average height (1.70). Her skin has a golden bronze hue and is soft and shiny. Her curly, black hair is inches from dragging on the floor and contrasts perfectly with her golden eyes. She prefers more feminine clothes. She is extremely extroverted and bubbly.

Itoko, Love itself | Someone interested | (They/Them)

Itoko has always had a peculiar interest in all the other gods except happiness, perhaps due to the fact that you are all mostly negative emotions. Itoko were always very observant and had an unhealthy obsession with your brother, but well, counterparts. You both were relatively close in your youth, and you can choose if this continued in your adulthood. They love you, for they love everything they see and feel, but is not romantic and maybe, it's not even platonic, for all you know, it can be more as if you were a... a story, an subject, an object that they are deeply invested in. After a long time, their curiosity turned to you once again, their attention is completely yours now.

You don't know where they are, but it wouldn't be hard to find out.

Species: merfolk

Appearance and personality: Itoko takes an androgynous appearance in their mid-20s. Their curvy, chubby bodie are a creamy shade and their skin is smooth with a heart-shaped scar in the middle of their chest. They are short in height (1.55) and have midnight black hair, which reaches the middle of their back, styled in a hime cut. They prefer feminine clothing, but are usually naked, with just a cloth to cover their genitals. They are calm and observant and love to flirt.

Bonus: they can shapeshift

Dunia, Life, the beginning of everything. | The creator | (She/Her)

Everything came from Dunia and Orpheus, everything belongs to them. She has looked after you and the other Gods since the moment you were born. You never had the best relationship with her, but she was always there.

You know where she is

Appearance and personality: Dunia takes on the appearance of a woman on her mid 40s with a robust and tall build (1,95), with dull brown skin. Her long, wavy hair is tied into a high ponytail and she wears silver armor, which you've only seen her without once in your life. She is a serious and cold woman.

Orpheus, Death, the end of everything | The beginning and the end | (He/Him)

Everything came from Dunia and Orpheus, everything belongs to them. Mortals fear his judgment. Creator of the 7 layers of hell and a father to you, Orpheus, unlike Dunia, has always been very close to you, taking care of you as if you were his own child.

You know where he is

Appearance and personality: Orpheus takes the form of a man in his early 50s, of average height (1,70), with a slim, frail build and a pale skin full of scars. his wavy blonde hair is cut below his ears and is always messy. He is a calm man and is terrible at giving advice.

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[alpydk]

Confessions

You asked for a sequel to Consequences so here I bring it.

Part 1 - Tav slept with Mizora, Gale left as we all know. Hate sex ensues at the epilogue party. That's it. Part 2 - They have another encounter - sex ensues. That's it.

Word Count - 3950 words CW - Angst/Smut - Happy ending ^^

The wedding invitation lay on the table, ivory parchment with a cherry red embossed trimming.

Karlach and Shadowheart... Baldur’s Gate... Elient...

It had been six months since the party where they had last met up, where Tav had last seen and spoke with Gale. She gritted her teeth at the memory, one of silver cups splayed in front of her, of her braid pulled taut behind her as he controlled her climax with a sense of dominance she had never seen before. “Now, my dear Tav. Say please.” She smirked to herself at the image of him behind her, his cock pressed against her, his eyes darkened with desire and anger. They had lain on that table for some time afterwards, their hearts beating in unison, an unspoken apology between them which remained unspoken. And now would soon come a wedding, an event that always came with drama of some sort.

Tav picked up the nearby quill, the decision of whether to attend or not posed at her fingertips. To see him again or not after what had last happened...

---

“Leaving so soon?” Gale felt the shift of Tav’s weight from next to him, her ebony braid dragging across his tunic before he had the chance to realise what was happening.

She stood, pulling her scarlet dress down to cover her legs more modestly than where it had been hoisted up to. “It’s getting early, and I’m meant to be back in the city before lunch.”

The warmth he’d known for only a short while had again gone, replaced with the icy walls and defensiveness they’d started the party with. Despite the admittance of why she’d ran to Mizora and now the understanding of where each of them stood, it was clear one night of drunken, angry sex upon an oak table wouldn’t be enough to bury the hatred that had been spat between them with such venom and loathing.

He let out an exasperated huff of annoyance. Once again pushed aside, being punished by the one he supposedly loved. Maybe at this point he was the problem, constantly finding women to fill a void left within. He was certain there was some psychological aspect in play forcing him to go for women similar to his own strong-willed mother, and the concept sickened him, or possibly it was that of the bottle of wine which flowed throughout his system. “Gods forbid something be more important...” he muttered under his breath. Did he even want to give what they had a chance? Was it worth the pain, the heartache?

Tav selectively ignored his words, her body already bristling, a slight hangover drifting in with the taunting sunrise. How could she have been so reckless, so desperate to have him? She shuddered at the thought. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, Gale,” she said, collecting her black lingerie from under the table.

He could see the curve of her arse as she bent over, his body betraying his mind in one fell swoop, and he took the chance of her back being turned to him to sit up and hastily tie the drawstrings on his trousers. A little tighter than normal, he remarked internally, making sure not to make the same mistake as some hours before. “You don’t think we should perhaps discuss-”

She cut him off before the words could even be produced from his wine-tinged lips. “A drunken mistake made by two lonely and desperate people. No different than it was at Moonrise.”

---

They didn’t speak after she had said those words, the harshness of them still causing her to hang her head in shame even now. That night at Moonrise had meant everything to her at one point, how they had admitted their love to one another, how he had conjured the soft bedsheets that smelt of lavender before worshipping her for hours in more ways than she could ever have dreamt of. Yet six months ago she was done, tired of their arguments, tired of Mystra and Mizora, but most of all, tired of him. She had to say it, the worst thing she could ever come up with, just to give them both finally a chance of moving on. 

Her heart had broken behind her built up walls. She would not show him how guilty or hurt she was by all that had transpired. She’d simply brushed herself down and walked away from the campsite, her braid hanging down behind the scarlet dress she’d never wear again.

Since that night she had dated others, worked her way through numerous men and women looking for that same spark that ignited the flames within her, causing them to burn so brightly. She’s tried being submissive with a few, allowing them to order her around, praise her, punish her if that’s what they desired, but none came close to how he had been that night with her. The sensation lived under her skin. It swelled with the memories of him: his dark eyes, firm hands gripping her hips, a voice that controlled her very essence.

As she glanced at the invitation, she let out a deep breath and stretched out her back. She knew she would have to be there, two of her closest friends finally tying the knot, Karlach’s infernal engine fixed after almost a year in Avernus battling for her life. Tav also knew though that he would be there too, dressed in his finest, his heart once again stitched back together after the damage she had done. Black ink flowed onto the parchment, soaking through a tad before she removed the quill. The date was set, the confirmation given, the anxiety building with the thoughts of what was left of the man she’d once loved.

---

The sun was slowly setting over the small chapel on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. It was a modest church, large enough for a small party of friends and family, far enough away from the city that the sound of hustle and bustle could not reach it. Its white wooden doors lay open, welcoming a soon to be married couple and their guests, and with it came a light wind blowing autumn leaves into the aisle.

Gale sat alone inside on a pew. He’d been the first to arrive, and it seemed only suitable to check over the readings for the ceremony: selected poems he knew all too well. Admiring the red lilies and night orchids, which had been woven together, creating elaborate floral displays over the altar and around the confessionals, he couldn’t help but think. The colours complimented one another well, the crimson shades merging with the hints of purple. His mind drifted back to his old, tattered robes, the cherry red shirt that often lay with them in the corner of his tent as the sun rose during their travels. Nights devoted to making her smile.

He shifted uncomfortably, moving his attention to his suit. He’d gone away from purples long ago, Mystra’s influence tainting the colour with reminders of their weave touched relationship and for this occasion he had decided that simple was best. The black waistcoat he had chosen showed the physique he had been working on the last few months, his forearms toned and displayed from a navy shirt as he rolled the sleeves to a comfortable level.

He was already feeling the nerves, ones that he had tried to shift so many times in the last few weeks, and as his fingertips drifted to unbuttoning his collar, he knew it wasn’t likely to pass easily just by sitting and waiting for company. He rose from his seat, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension, and looked to the main doors of the chapel where moonlight was making its appearance. Soon the others would arrive, but now he needed to stretch his legs and enjoy the little peace that was available.

As the cool breeze blew through the waves of his hair, he spotted Tav walking up the quiet path towards him. Her head was faced away from his, her eyes drawn to the line of wildflowers that grew along the verge. She looked as beautiful as she ever had. Her dark hair hung down around her shoulders, silver beads placed in thin braids glistened as they caught light. Tav had kept her pattern of wearing red; this time, her short figure-hugging dress replaced with one that pinched her waist but flared out at the base. Her pale legs were still on display just as they’d been at the party and for a moment, he was dragged back to the memory of running his hands up those thighs as he’d done so many times before.

He turned his back on her, choosing instead to walk around the other side of the chapel, hoping that before she noticed him, others would arrive, and their interaction could be kept at a safe minimum. He would not make the same mistake as last time.

---

“And now we will hear a brief poetry reading from Gale.” Astarion made sure to emphasise just how brief it would be as he left his position at the altar. Despite it being over two hundred years since his position of magistrate, somehow Baldarian law still gave him the allowance to operate and, as such, he had found himself in the unfortunate position of officiating the wedding of his two old friends. He stepped aside, letting Gale taking charge, hearing the nervous heartbeat that beat so relentlessly.

There were few guests in attendance who weren’t already at the party six months previously, but something about standing before them all, speaking words of love and commitment, filled him with an emotion he wished would vanish. A part of him knew this should have been his day, where the poem read would instead have been vows spoken with devotion to the one he loved. If only they had simply talked to one another.

“Good evening, my dear friends. It’s been some time once again since we last gathered like this. It’s good to see you all.” His eyes passed briefly over Tav; the words meant more for her than anyone in sitting in the room. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Well-” A nervous breath caught him, but it was enough to help him focus his attention. “For this most splendorous of occasions, I have indeed prepared a short poem which I would like to present to our most beautiful of couples.”

Karlach and Shadowheart stood before him, their hands entwined, their eyes glued on one another. The world around them may not have existed as they gazed lovingly at one another, a way in which Gale himself had once looked at Tav. His smile at them briefly turned sad before he shifted the memory and moved on quickly to reading.

His eyes met Tav’s as she watched, words originally meant for her now spoken openly. He hoped she knew this was for her, how despite everything, despite the anger and the heartbreak, it was always for her.

She glanced away from him, a rogue tear escaping her, which she was quick to wipe away. His deep brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, and she wished things could be different between them. How they both wished all this could be different, how the longed-for apologies could be said between one another. How they wished they could find a way back to one another.

---

The ceremony ended, and Karlach and Shadowheart were eager to leave after accepting congratulations from everyone, a quick passing comment about seeing stars heard by a few at the exit to the chapel. Tav stood by the simple altar, rolling the petals of the lilies between her fingertips, lost in her own thoughts of the wedding and all that had occurred.

“A lovely evening, don’t you think?”

Gale’s tentative voice brought her back to reality, her hand quickly drawn from the flowers. Within the hallowed walls of the church, she did not want to fight as they had done the previous times, instead she kept herself quiet, hesitant, and watchful of his actions.

“Hm. It was. Your poetry was very...” She pondered over the words, trying to find something that would explain how much she enjoyed it, but not strong enough that he would see through to the emotions that had been sitting on her sleeve all evening. “...well written.”

He stepped closer to her, and he noticed the way her dress caught with the breeze from the open door, allowing him to catch sight of her inner thigh. “Well, it seemed an important occasion to put in a little more effort into rather than my previous dabbles with poetry.”

“I’m sure they both appreciated it.” Tav could feel as he grew closer to her, her eyes catching on the way he seemed leaner since their last meeting. His body seemed firmer, his trousers snugger upon his groin, the shirt hugging his upper arms in a way that made her want to bite her lower lip. She kept her composure. “You look really well, Gale.”

“I took some time after our last encounter to work on myself a little.”

“Well, it suits you.”

At the altar they stood facing one another, moonlight shining through the small windows, autumn leaves blown along the aisle. She looked up into his eyes, her heart beating in anticipation after what had occurred at the party. It felt as if something were in the air, a powerful force that could not be resisted drawing her to him each time they met, but this time, the anger was muted within the sacred walls.

Gale lifted his hand, brushing a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear, his touch soft and cautious, as if they were together at Moonrise once again and he was expecting rejection. “Tav...”

Just as last time she interrupted him, but this time not with venom filled words. Instead, she brought her lips to his, a resignation to the surrounding forces which bound their souls together. He responded in kind, a hand brought to her cheek and holding her steady, the other grasped to the fabric of her dress and pulling her hips towards his. He broke off the kiss, letting out a shaky breath, searching her eyes for the certainty that this was what she wanted.

She drew herself towards him again, an answer to his unspoken question, flushed lips on his in wanting, but when he did not return her kiss, she pulled back, a hint of rejection she did not wish to show lingering in her mind. “We both know how this is going to end,” she said, desire in her eyes.

“Precisely. We do.” Gale’s grasp on her hip loosened ever so slightly, the hand on her cheek moved lightly to her hair, his fingers curling between the locks. “We’ll share in each other’s bodies and as our souls return to their cages, we will part, just as we have before.”

“So, this is it? The end of everything?”

He looked to the braids in her hair, to how they twisted and turned just like that of the Weave he was so fond of. Everything in him screamed to let go of her, to walk away and never see her again, to find peace. But his heart whispered amongst the din. It ignored the arguments; it ignored the hateful comments they had shared; it ignored the lust. There were only the nights before Mizora, ones where he and Tav had lain simply together, her hand on his chest, their hearts beating together in sync. There had been unsaid acts of love before and after they’d even admitted their feelings, the day where she had held him close after Elminster had told him of his doomed fate, the night where they had simply cried together after Bhaal had killed her and she’d been born anew. How had so many moments vanished with that one mistake? How had so much hate been born from what was once unbound love?

“Gale, tell me. Is this it? If it is, I’ll accept.” Tav’s words were honest, the exhaustion she had felt six months ago bursting through. She didn’t want to fight anymore; she had no fight left in her. All she wanted was to move on, to know he could move on.

His gaze went from the braids to her eyes, moistened, reflecting the moonlight. The whisper grew into a shout that he could no longer ignore. It couldn’t end this way. They found one another again, a tenderness not shared in so long as hands moved from tight clasping to gentle strokes, as passionate kisses were replaced with delicate exploration. He found himself pushing her backwards, the confessional booth the only place of any privacy within the chapel. She was pushed up against the white door of it, the scarlet lilies brushing over her shoulder as she nudged open the door with the base of her heel.

There was little room and even less light behind the closed door, and Tav was quick to shift Gale onto the small bench that met them. “Forgive me, father...”

“Oh, none of that, my love. We do not plan to draw the eyes of any deities in here.”

She pressed herself onto him, feeling the growing bulge under his trousers, grinding her hips into him, allowing her own body to react with need. “Not much room in here.”

Gale smirked. He knew exactly what she spoke of as he felt the ache of his erection pushing on the tight fabric, but for once last time he play with her. “Well, there’d be more room if you hadn’t gained weight.”

“Prick.” Tav scowled, before slipping her tongue into his mouth, finding his and sucking it with wanton desire.

He reacted in kind, his hands moving up under her legs and positioning her straddled across his lap. As she arched herself into him, rubbing herself down against him, she released the slightest of moans and he could feel the way she quivered with each rock of her hips. He brought a hand further up her thigh, dipping under the cloth of her skirt and tracing the lace of her underwear.

A soft mewl told him how heated she was already, how she chased her climax so readily upon his lap. His fingers danced above the fabric, tracing a line down her cunt, feeling as she leaned into his hand instinctively. He released her mouth from his, letting her bury her head into the crook of his neck, heated breaths poured onto his skin. “You’re so eager, as always.”

“Only with you... Only ever with you,” she gasped, feeling as his fingertips slipped onto her naked flesh, languid lines becoming rhythmic circles where she needed them most. Her heart raced, her eyes closed, and all she could do was savour the moments as her wants and needs became a blessed reality. “Gods, Gale...”

A part of him was tempted to tease her as he had last time, a consequence of all she had done, but as she whimpered into him, his name on her desperate lips, all he wanted was more of her, to give to her again as he had done so long ago, to worship her, to love her. He increased his pace, listening as whimpers became moans, as she pulled her head back and bucked herself shamelessly into his hand.

She felt herself nearing her edge, felt the familiar swelling almost at breaking point, the knowledge that it was him doing this to her spurring her on and making it impossible to resist any longer. “Gale...” she gasped through parted lips. Looking down at him in the low-lit confession booth was all it took for the thin strand of control to snap, her orgasm hitting hard and fast, her muscles tensing and clenching. His hand was removed, but with that, she found herself perched again over his lap, his trousers appearing visibly uncomfortable as she lowered herself onto them, trying to ground herself as the world spun around her.  

Gale sighed as she sat atop him, her breath slowly returning to normal. He was remaining patient, wanting each second to span an eternity should it all come crashing down again around them. It wasn’t long though before her hands found the rim of his trousers, tugging at them, and letting her mouth return to his. Very little time was spent taunting with what he had that she wanted more of, his trousers and underwear pulled down, hers left abandoned around one ankle and her dress hoisted up over his lap as she straddled him once again.

Through gritted teeth, he spoke as she hovered above him. “I have something to confess.”

“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” Tav purred, lowering herself onto him, sighing as her body adjusted to his size within her. She’d never forgotten how good he felt, never found anything that compared to him.

He breathed through the relaxed roll of her hips, but noted the way her arousal was building quicker with each thrust into her. “Maybe... but now or never...”

His words were falling on death ears as her hands explored the sides of his abdomen, more toned than six months ago, less to grip, but the sight made her wish she had the composure to remove his waistcoat and shirt, to see what lay beneath, teasing her. She wanted to reply, but words were escaping her, his rhythm, his angle, the forearm that held her close as she arched her body into him, wanting more of him, needing more.

A firm hand gripped her hip, preventing her from writhing, allowing him to plunge into her more firmly, to let him feel every needed bit of her. “I love you, Tav...”

The words hit her hard, the confession that he still loved her even after everything making her heartbeat quicken, her climax upon her in an instance.

He felt as she tightened around him, her walls contracting, putting pressure on him. His movements became more demanding, more focused as he sought his own release. Whispered words met his ears, words of love and care, confessions of her own singing out through satisfied breaths. His hips snapped into her, the bench beneath and her above giving little room for him to leave her fully, just a constant pressure wrapped around him, bringing him to his precipice.

The more he rutted into her, the more she began to whine, wave after wave of pleasure, an orgasm ending only to lead into another as one of his hands once again found her sensitive bundle of nerves. “I love you... I love you...” she screamed out from the confines of the enclosed stall.

Those words, the admission of truth were all it took. Gale gripped her closely, his body jerking as he spilled himself into her. Her neck was on his lips in seconds, the salted taste of her sweat upon his tongue welcome as aftershocks caused him to convulse into her further. With each one came another gasped moan, soon growing quieter and quieter as both relaxed into one another’s gentle embrace.

They held each other for some time in the darkened shadows of the confessional, as moonlight became the lazy rise of a sun within the chapel. They had shared how they both felt, forgiven each other without spoken apologies, shared their love just as they had once done. For now, all they had was this one night, one under stars and shadows of a stall, amongst scarlet lilies and dark purple night orchids. Talking could come later.

[tomieafterdark]

hate fucking with Eren drabble..18+

want more? I got you<3 here’s my masterlist

pairing: Eren x fem!reader

cw: hate fucking, sex through the prison bars from that one season 4 scene, no prep but reader is wet enough by just seeing Erens drastic glow up, vaginal sex, ass slapping, choking, hair pulling.

a/n: I haven’t watched season 4 properly and that includes this scene so if something is missing you know why😭 anyways enjoy this drabble, I am having a writers block kinda so I am stuck on my requests and longer fics rip.

Hange just came back up from asking Eren some questions, it seems she didn’t have much of a breakthrough though.

“He kept babbling on about fighting…” she said and sat down with the others. She looks disappointed as she continues explaining what else had happened.

You wanted to go down and check on Eren knowing damn well Eren despises you. Ever since you first met, you’ve had this weird energy of constantly competing or tearing each other down. Deep down inside maybe you were just looking for a way to let out your pent up anger and sadness, to tease Eren or full on argue with him. You just needed an outlet for your feelings…

As you get closer to his cell, he is still mumbling to himself about fighting. What a weirdo. And he is shirtless with a freaking manbun, you take a minute to stare at him not knowing he is aware, his body looks like it was carved by the gods themselves. As much as you despised Eren, you couldn’t help but admit he was so attractive right now, he has changed a lot.

“How long are you going to stand there and not talk, you know I am not deaf. I heard you walk down.” He says, his voice is husky and sends chills down your spine. You hadn’t seen Eren for a while, last time you saw him he was annoying and whiny and just cried a lot…this time he is different. You bite your bottom lip. His face was hotter too, that hairstyle looks like it was invented just for him.

“Whatever.” You say in a bratty tone, and walk closer to him.

He doesn’t care, he is just sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looks annoyed, as if he was doing something important earlier and had been interrupted.

You start to bother him on purpose, hoping for a reply. He must be equally desperate to let out his pent up emotions because he argues back. Suddenly you and Eren are full on arguing about god knows what because it doesn’t make sense to anyone but you two. It goes from petty things to you bursting into tears, asking Eren why he has changed so much and why he is hurting everyone he once cared about. Eren doesn’t take kindly to that last part, you don’t know it but you hit a sore spot inside of him.

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt through the bars, eyes full of hatred and rage with a hint of pain and regret if you look deeper. You don’t stop there, you’re so angry and upset you end up bringing his mom into it, and then the real hell breaks loose.

He yells at you to leave her out of it, you scream back about everything that’s wrong with his behaviour and plans and how she would never approve of this. You’re trying to reach the little humanity he had left in him but it’s not working, the tension between you becomes weirdly sexual at some point. He can’t deny the tension and neither can you, he may have neglected his humanity but that doesn’t mean it’s not there deep within him, screaming to be let out, to express its feelings. The very feelings he has been pushing down to work toward his goal, pushing everything else aside. With you being here, and the sexual tension already between you the grief and pain chooses to express itself sexually.

He turns you around, with little care for how it affects you or if it hurt. He is rough with you, even though there’s literal bars between you he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls you in close, you can feel his breath on your neck. You giggle in response to Eren’s rough manhandling. “Geez, I didn’t know you had this side to you. Last time we argued it just ended with you crying like a bitch!” You laugh.

He slaps your face really hard in return, causing you to moan a little. Something about his cold broken energy just made you so attracted to him, and the carelessness and manhandling only made you more weak in the legs. You had not planned for this sexual tension to arise with Eren. Sure, all your arguing earlier helped you release the anger you were wanting to express but the sexual side of you needed release too and Eren’s glow up alone had awakened it. You hadn’t had sex in so long, too much work and too little time for anything else left you neglecting your sexual needs a lot.

You arch your back and push your ass up against Eren, to your surprise you’re met with some hardness. “Arguing makes you hard? You really are a mess Eren Yeager” you say to him in a snarky tone and laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, aren’t you the one pushing your ass all up against me like a bitch in heat?” He says in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. You almost accidentally moan yes daddy in reply, this new Eren has your mind racing. You just smirk back at him. “I’ll fuck this sly smirk off your face bitch, when I’m done with your ass you’ll be crying begging me to stop.”

“Ooh I’m so scared. Face it Eren, you couldn’t last a minute.” You brag, hoping to get a rise out of him and get manhandled even more. Oh how you wish those stupid bars weren’t between you, so Eren could have his way with you.

He chokes you in return and pulls your pants and panties down, you’re so wet just from this alone. It’s good you are wet because Eren was so pissed off he would’ve bottomed out in you wether you were wet or not. Your eyes roll back as you’re gasping for air, he is choking a bit too hard. He gets closer to your ear as he continues choking and whispers “spread your legs more bitch.”

You’re so dizzy from being choked you accidentally reply back “yes daddy” out loud instead of in your head and spread them causing Eren to chuckle, he low-key likes it and even more when you said it in the state you were in. He shoves his entire length into you, it’s so big it hurts causing you to wake up from your dizzy state. He knows you’re struggling to take it, from the way your body tensed up to the way you’re almost pushing him out is telling but he keeps pushing it in making you take it all. Your moaning is starting to get a bit to loud, which has him hiss “quiet you whore. Do you really want them to find you like this? All wrapped up around my cock moaning like a slut?” He lets go of your throat and puts it over your mouth, your muffled moans are still loud but it’s better than before. He keeps thrusting at a merciless speed, your body finally stopped resisting his sheer force and you’re taking him. Limp legged, barely able to stand up and he just keeps going, you can feel it reach all the way up in your stomach. He grabs your hand and makes you feel it. “Feel it slut, that’s me re-arranging your tiny little guts.” You cry out in return, it’s making you lose it, it’s just too much. You just want to collapse here and now, but Eren pushes your hand down on the bulge his cock is making on your pretty stomach. Your reaction is gold to him. “What was it about me not lasting huh y/n?” He snarks and starts slapping your ass, not once or twice but so many times your cheeks turn red.

You squirt all over Eren’s cock, orgasming so hard your cunt is once again trying to push him out. Eren just buries himself deeper inside you, feeling every small movement your cunt makes in hopes of pushing him out. Your breathing is getting faster, with legs shaking. “Please Eren, pull out for a second it’s too much” you cry out with tears running down your pretty cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up and take this dick” is all he says and starts fucking you deeper. He puts you on all four, positioning you into a mean painful arch even though there’s bars between you. He somehow reaches deeper into you with the position you’re in and you’re leaking all over the cold cement floor from your eyes and cunt. Eren is brutal, you had enough ages ago but he keeps going. You are so overstimulated you try to crawl away but you’re met with more brutal manhandling, he pulls on your ponytail keeping you in place. “What’s wrong y/n? You can’t last longer?” He mocks.

You end up getting your absolute brains fucked out by Eren, at the same brutal pace for what feels like hours. When he is done, you’re a mess. He didn’t stop until your cunt was overstimulated, bruised and gaping. You hear the others come down to check on Eren, you quickly put your clothes on. You’re struggling to stand as they come over, you’re just standing against the wall with your legs threatening to collapse any minute.

thanks for reading I didn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes 😵‍💫

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