#I’m claiming her

[https-hunter]

And if I said

[vidalsbeloved]

HER PREY pt. 2

Rio Vidal/Female Reader!

Warnings: knife play, blood kink, blood licking, reader crying and Rio loving it!

You gasp into the kiss, but you know better than to not give in. You grapple the hand around your neck as her fingers dig into your flesh. You whimper. She chuckles— pulling away with her teeth latching onto your lower lip, drawing blood. You hiss, her tongue running over the wound she has created, licking up your blood.

Her eyes are dark as they bore into yours, hunger still there as the hand wrapped around your neck goes to your cheek, her thumb caressing you gently.

“Such pretty sounds, you make, sweetness,” she whispers. “I wonder what other pretty noises I can draw from you.”

Then she’s attacking your neck, her teeth biting into the flesh. You cry out— hands grasping at her shoulders. Her tongue soothes the now irritated skin at your neck, her thumbs brushing your tears. She pulls back just enough to look into your teary eyes before she lunges back to kiss you.

You kiss her back with the same fire, your hands digging into her shoulders, drawing a pleasurable groan from her. Her teeth are on your lips again, this time gently caressing over your swollen kissed lips. The unoccupied hand she uses to pull your body into hers, hand moving up and down your sides.

You move to pull back so that you can breathe, but then her hand is in your hair again. Holding you in place—

Her kiss is more fierce. The hand on her shoulder digs impossibly deeper, again eliciting another groan from her. You gasp into her mouth, and then you bite. She moans and you bite harder. She laughs against you darkly and you release her lip.

She pulls back and you gasp in air through your lungs, she watches as you close your eyes to do so. Watching the rise and fall of your chest. Her nails run up and down your sides as you catch your breath.

She leans in, her lips millimeters from yours. “You’re mine, sweetness,” she says. “And I’m not letting anyone take you away from me.”

When her lips kiss yours again, it’s soft. And all you can do is let her. And you realize instantly that the fear that you felt moments before now is gone. Your body is filled with a wanton need for her, a craving to feel her lips upon your skin.

“What did you do to me?” You ask through her kisses breathlessly.

“Nothing, yet, sweetness,” she says darkly, that dark gleam back in her eyes. “But I will.”

She pulls away from you with a departing sensual kiss and pulls the knife from the sheathe. She sees a flash of panic behind your eyes and is pleased when you don’t make any move to run. A hand comes up to your arm and you let her take it, pulling up the sleeve to reveal skin. Her teeth flash, tongue running over her lower lip.

She runs a finger along the unscathed tissue and whispers, “Such pretty skin, I can’t wait to mark it up with my knife.”

Her knife comes up to meet your flesh, instinctively though, you flinch away, but her grip is tight.

“Breathe for me, sweet girl,” she whispers.

She digs her knife into your flesh. You cry out, tears prickling your eyes. She shushes you, wiping away your tears and rubbing your cheek soothingly. But the look in her eyes is pure hunger and gratification at seeing you in pain all for her.

She wants more of it. Her knife moves over each small word she carves into your skin, watching and waiting as tears roll down your cheeks. She leans into you and licks up your tears, salivating at the taste of you on her lips. The second the knife leaves your arm, you are a sobbing mess. A kiss placed on your temple, a dark chuckle, and the gleeful sound that escapes her tell you she is proud of her mark.

When you calm down, you manage the strength to look down. Blood pools from the wound, but through it, you see the name ‘Rio’ engraved into your skin and with it a heart. Your skin is scorched from the pain and you look back up to Rio with watering and pained-filled eyes. She scoffs at you, shaking her head, and brings your arm to her lips, this time though, instead of her tongue. She kisses the area, and instantly you realize that the pain is gone. Her tongue then comes out to lick up your blood-stained arm.

“You’re mine now, sweetness. Body and soul,” she says when she pulls away, still holding your arm. She traces the mark on your skin and whispers something under her breath. “Nobody will ever hurt you as long as you’re with me.”

From that moment on, you lived centuries, with Death by your side— she may have been cruel to the world, killed people, and taken souls. But with you, she was kind, in her own way.

You had realized over the years that when you thought back on the day you met— she could have been cruel to you, killed you where you stood, and taken your body and soul but instead showed you mercy and kept you alive. You never understood why, but it was reason enough to be hers, but still curiosity got the best of you.

“Rio,” you said one night with her.

“Yes, sweetness.”

You hesitated, before asking, “Why did you not kill me the day we met?”

You saw her pause, looking over her shoulder to you. “Why do you ask?”

You looked away, a furious blush staining your cheeks, making Rio smirk. She always seemed to affect you, regardless of anything.

Taking pity on you, she turned and walked towards you, causing you to walk backward into a tree. She grasped your chin lightly and whispered against your lips, “You were just…” she licked her lower lips, “too delicious not to keep sweetness.”

And you suppose that’s as much of an answer you were going to get, but didn’t mind it. Rio always found a way around confrontation.

Her lips pressed to yours, her mouth flooding your senses. When she pulled back, you whined chasing her lips with your own. She chuckled— putting distance between you.

“Come, sweetness. We’ve got bodies and souls to take.” her hand reached for your own, and when you took it without hesitation; she knew she had you wrapped around her finger once more.

And so you followed her, after all that’s all you could do anyways.

You were hers after all.

[your-fuccked-up-dad-volume100]

Hey (With the intention of being murderously obsessed and possessive of you).🔪

[21loveatfirstsight]

“No one in history has had special treatment like you”

She bent the rule for Agatha

She is the natural order of all things

And she bent it all for her

[monsterboyblood]

She isn’t going to be a huge part of this au but I adore her and I’m insanely proud of this redesign.

I’m gonna make a proper lore post soon cause I had like a HUGE influx of ideas and did kind of an overhaul of the backstory to make it fit a little better with the kind of story I wanna write, until then I’m gonna keep posting little design snippets and concepts, I really appreciate that people have been interested in this au even thought it’s kinda taking me a while to make proper content for it. It’ll still probably be a while before the proper comic is something I can consistently work on but I’ve got some other things planned in the meantime :)

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked.

We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[wickmitz]

every time i reread lackadaisy i become stronger about my conviction that fans are WAY too harsh on mitzi and misunderstand her completely. you go online and see people treating her like satan incarnate when she’s genuinely just a person who’s grieving and lost. her and mordecai are two sides of the same coin and it’s crazy that people are kinder to him ( when he kills people, brutally, all the time and without remorse ) but never to her … like the things i’ve seen people accuse her of is baffling enough to make me wonder if i’m genuinely misreading the text tbh. even her character sheet on the lackadaisy website says this :

cannot stress enough everything we’ve seen from mitzi and know about her, both in the past and present, proves she was a tender hearted sort of person. she is not ruthless or cruel naturally, and has to continuously decide to commit to the harsh edges she’s desperately trying to wear. she’s selfish, yes, and does have her own myriad of flaws -- but she’s hardly some manipulative mastermind with no warmth in her heart. and knowing this makes her arc and her scenes ache all the more for it tbh

[acourtofquietdreamers]

If you can’t see the difference between this:

I dreamed of Lord Graysen-so mortal and young-standing at the edge of the camp, beckoning to Elain. Telling her he'd come for her. To come home with him. That he'd found a way to undo what had been done to her-to make her human again.

But Azriel asked softly, "What about Elain?" Something cold went through me. Nesta was just staring at Azriel. Staring and staring.

Nesta was already moving, sprinting for where we'd heard that voice. Luring Elain out. I knew how it had done it. I'd dreamed of it. Graysen standing on the edge of camp, calling to her, promising her love and healing.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, "I'm getting her back." Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, "Then you will die." Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, "I'm getting her back."

My mouth went dry as that scream sounded again. I couldn't bear it - to let it go on, to see what was being done - Azriel's shadow-hand grasped my own, tugging me closer. His rage rippled off his invisible form.

Azriel slid back the curtain—Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us—Azriel and me— I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on—Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. "You came for me." The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

The screaming and shouting began. Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. "Hold tight," he ordered her, "and don't make a sound."

"Grab onto him!" Elain ordered the wide-eyed human girl as Azriel thundered toward her. The girl looked like a doe about to be run down by a wolf. The girl did not open her arms as they neared. Elain screamed at her, "If you want to live, do it now!" The girl dropped her cloak, opened her arms wide. Her black hair streamed behind Azriel, catching amongst his wings as he practically tackled her into the sky. But I saw, even as I ran, Elain's pale hands lurch-gripping the girl by her neck, holding her as tightly as she could. And just in time.

Azriel's roar echoed off the rocks as the hound slammed into him, dragging those shredding talons down his spine, his wings— The girl screamed, but Elain moved. As Azriel battled to keep them airborne, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast's face. Its eye. Another. Another. It bellowed, and Elain slammed her bare, muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home.

Azriel's power gave out on the outskirts of our camp. The girl, despite the burns and lashings on her moon-white skin, was able to walk. The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he'd slapped on it. Help—he needed a healer immediately.

She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel's arms. I'd never heard a sound like that from her. Not once. She isn't hurt, I said to her, into that chamber in her mind.

Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, "We need Helion to get these chains off her." Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek. And then walked to me and Nesta, who pulled back long enough to survey Elain's clean face, her clear eyes.

And this (Trigger Warning: SA mentioned):

I truly don’t know what to tell you, but I’ll try anyways.

One is a romantically coded rescue scene with many parallels to other SJM couples. See here, here, here, here, here, and here. Az’s rage once he realizes Elain is in trouble, rescuing her even if it means he could die, “you came for me”, “devouring the sight of him”, Az doesn’t put her down even though he’s gravely hurt and Elain is uninjured, ends with a kiss on the cheek. This scene also shows Elain and Az working together beautifully to save Briar and get rid of the hounds. Elain ends the scene with clear eyes.

The other is a woman retelling the most traumatic day of her life. It’s a heartbreaking story and it seriously concerns me if you read that story and your take away is “Az rescued Gwyn! He slaughtered them all and covered her with his cloak!! Soo romantic, they must be mates!” ANYONE in the IC would’ve reacted this way in the face of such a horrific scene.

And this behavior comes from people who claim to love Gwyn, yet make the most traumatic moment of her life about a man. It’s icky.

These two scenes are not comparable. Elriels using “Hold tight and don’t make a sound” as a NSFW prompt (when the same verbiage has been used during spicy scenes in SJM books) is not the same as people romanticizing Gwyn’s trauma and changing her story so Azriel is the one that carried her out. Just stop.

[calilk]

Gem’s death was the cause of Pearl’s realisation. After all that time chasing and taunting and blood, after an offer was finally extended and then brutally taken away, finally, the pin dropped. As stark text blinked into the corner of her vision, with nothing for company but the apathetic water lapping at the shore of this oh so lonely island, finally the reality of Pearl’s emotions hit her. The deep longing in her chest finally revealed its mark. The arrow set fly so long ago finally struck empty space, an absence, a still-warm corpse. Pearl, with so much love to give, and yet again, no one to take it from her cold and broken hands.

[dozydawn]

[jacarandaaaas]

in this shot the candle is positioned higher up in the shot than mirabel, showcasing how she feels this candle is worth more than she is. This is also foreshadowing for the moment she quite literally values this candle more than her own life!

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Yeah it’s cool and all that Lyanna Mormont and Wylla Manderly are such vocal Stark loyalists. But it’s actually quite important that they share names with two of the most important women in Jon Snow’s life: Lyanna Stark - his mother, and Wylla - his wetnurse and rumored mother in universe. Such stunning loyalty from these two girls who are named after women so important to Jon just tickles all the key parts of my brain. These are the women who gave him life. And it’s even more poignant when we realize that by ADWD, when the girls are declaring their loyalty, Jon is the KiTN who bears the name STARK per Robb’s decree.

[gingebreadbeetle]

This is just straight up a rant, so to be blunt; I am not a professional artist, I just enjoy drawing and know some of the basics. Also this is all just my opinion, so yeah, rant starts from here.

Viv’s designs of the sins that we’ve seen so far are horrible. They’re overcrowded, the colors are really basic or straining for me and it’s just … bad? It’s just bad, confusing and it feels like she looked up a wiki of (insert demon)’s animal, slapped on a Viv TM personality from the five different persona’s she has and oversaturated colored and called it a day.

Sorry if this is disjointed, I know Viv has talent as a artist and she has artistic merit, but I feel like in recent years her style and characterization has diminished ( compare pilot Adam to the show Adam example, for me the pilots design was much cooler ) and now her furry designs or biblical interpretations are just… bare bones, hollow. Like she’s read a question on a test but hasn’t engaged with it thoroughly and rushed it. C minus, Viv.

[yudrein-aile]

story idea that currently won’t let me go so I’ll just yeet it here

Kishiar and his “reputation” meaning a lot of people try to like. Pretend HE knocked so-and-so up

and yeah he COULD refute it. But also. If people are THIS desperate. Man. No telling what could happen to the innocents involved?

which is very TLDR for Kishiar having a bunch of fake concubines and step children.

mostly bc I think that would make 1st tl even worse and the 2nd more complex regarding kishiyu. Yuder encountering one of the kids and very vividly remembering being told about their death off handedly by Katchian and it’s just a five-year-old

[qunaricatnip]

bioware I’m in your fucking walls stop putting morrigan in situations with the dalish wtf is wrong with y’all

[xofantasycloud]

“I still don’t know what fashion is”😂

Tbf I don’t understand Pinoe’s fashion sense either so I’ll get behind that

🎥: USWNT