#SO IVE BEEN FORCED TO THINK ABOUT HIM LONG ENOUGH THAT ITS MAKING ME FEEL SHRIMP EMOTIONS

[wr0ngwarp]

totally normal non-weird beat doodle that has no insane creepypasta joke au baggage (<- BLATANT LIE (WARNING FOR GORE/BODY HORROR IN LINK))

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: to blanc, you are the change he needed, and your pressing secret won't change that.

WARNINGS: mentions of mortality, blood. Vampire stuff.

COMMENTS: ok ok so @vivislosingitagain here is my thought process YOU like biting people and sucking their blood so YOU are a vampire. and HEY GUESS WHAT vampires are IMMORTAL kind of. and im pretty sure blanc is really fucking old so i think mortality angst would work great with him BUT WHAT IF HIS PARTNER WAS AS OLD AS HE WAS AND BIT HIM. that's the post.

also im so sorry if blanc is out of character i have seen this man three times in the routes ive played + the prologue oops.

It’s a clear night. The stars are bright in the sky, just as they were hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Blanc doesn’t know if they’ll ever change, but he takes comfort in their consistency. They’re stationary, unmoving, unshifting, just like him. He’s always been in Cradle, long enough to see the shattering of bonds between the armies and the first Alice fall. He’s seen the skirmishes and the blood and the carnage.

And he’s seen you, the one who followed him into the rabbit hole and into Cradle.

He remembers thinking you were cute. He remembers Oliver scolding him for speaking his mind, and he remembers you tearing your eyes away from him, a shy smile on your lips. You’ve always been alluring, in a way he never anticipated, and it makes him wonder if someone from the Land of Reason can really be magical like the people of Cradle.

It’s no use though—he knows the passage of time will take you away. He knows love (what he feels for you, there’s no doubt about it) is a powerful force, but it cannot break the way the sun and moon rise and fall, it cannot stop the stars from dying light years away, it cannot stop your inevitable aging.

He knows this, and yet he can’t let go. He greets you in the morning with a soft pat on your head, leaning over your bed as you stretch and yawn. His gaze softens when you rub your eyes and look over at him, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing you ever want to see.

He’s so selfish—he wants so badly for you to only look at him.

For someone so keenly aware of how mortal you are, he knows he's being awfully flippant about it. It’s the folly of man, to be so foolish as to yearn, but there’s always the possibility that fate will take pity on his poor soul and listen to its cries for his love to stay.

And so, the next night, a night that should be no different from any other, he breaks his routine. He keeps you up late, chatting over tea as the full moon rises in the sky, asking you if you want to go home. He watches you as you go quiet, your previously bright smile fading into a thoughtful frown. You’re staring into your tea as if it can give you the answer, and Blanc hopes the tea will give you the same answer he would.

I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay with me. I wish you would think I’m worth it. I wish that if I had to be hurt then you would be the one to hurt me because I’ve never loved anyone like you and I doubt I ever will. I wish you would be the one to thrust this dagger into my heart so fate doesn’t have the chance.

“...I want to stay with you.” you say, and Blanc knows you’re hiding something from him but he can’t bring himself to ask when you already look so worried.

“Are you sure?” he asks, reaching across the table to place a hand on yours.

Your head jerks up and you meet his gaze with parted lips—almost like you want to tell him but are far too scared.

“You can tell me anything.” he stresses, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’m not...” you purse your lips, looking away again as you choose your words carefully, “I’m not having doubts about staying here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Blanc holds back his sigh of relief in favor of another inquisitive glance. Your brow furrows and he knows you feel his stare, your cute canines poking at your lower lip as you gnaw on it pensively.

“I have a secret I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” you say softly, turning back to him, “I will someday. I just...need time.”

Blanc laughs, a sound that's full of relief and love and sounds like the wind chimes that hang in your no longer temporary bedroom’s window, the ones that have been there since you came and will be there when—if—you leave.

“Darling.” he breathes, staring straight into your eyes with so much love, “I have all the time in the world.”

The full moon sinks beneath the horizon and the sun comes up again. The teacups from the night before have been cleaned and placed back on their shelves, and the cake you two cut slices out of remains in the fridge. There are still traces of you within the house—your skincare is still in the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to his, and your chair still has a cushion of your favorite color. None of those things have been removed because you didn’t leave.

You’re still in your bedroom, sleeping soundly, but this time Blanc is there with you, his arms wrapped around you. His body is tangled with yours, your legs intertwining as the bed sheets knot themselves around your limbs. Your head is resting right over his heart, the part of him that’s pounding away for you. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and stares down at your sleeping face, the face that shows him all of your thoughts and emotions, the face that belongs to the person who loves him enough to stay.

He wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, a kiss on the bridge of your nose, a kiss on your left eyelid and a kiss on your right, a kiss on your jaw—

He sighs when you start to stir, propping yourself up on your elbows. The bed sheets fall off your body like water cascading down the side of a cliff, and your bleary eyes have never looked more beautiful. He lays there, admiring you in the morning light as the wind chimes chime, the soft breeze from the cracked open window ruffling through your hair.

You shiver.

“Darling,” Blanc calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Good morning.”

You smile when you turn to look at him, and you allow yourself to fall back against the mattress next to him.

“Good morning.” you murmur, your nails tracing the curve of his cheekbone before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You look so handsome.”

Ever the charmer, he’s rarely been charmed himself. And so he does the only thing he deems appropriate, and thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Weeks pass, and Blanc finds himself growing into this new routine. You're a sign of change, that he knows for sure. His own room remains vacant for the most part unless you decide to pull him into his room instead of your own when you’re ready for bed. It makes no difference to him where you go, only that he can follow you like the lovesick fool he is.

Except you’re not leading him to either of your bedrooms tonight.

You’re leading him outside, under the pale moonlight and into the chilly nighttime breeze. He looks up at the full moon and holds your hand a little tighter.

“Thank you for giving me time.” you say, the wind swelling as it passes between the two of you and further into the night, “I’m ready to tell you what I’ve been hiding from you now. It’s...not fair to keep it from you any longer.”

“I understand,” he smiles softly, cupping your cheek, “Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.” you say, and it takes his brain a few moments to catch up, “I’ve...found it hard to get blood in Cradle but since meeting with Kyle’s he’s managed to get me blood when I need it. I don’t like drinking from animals or people but it...has to be done for me to stay alive.”

Blanc’s brain is whirring as you spill your guts to him, your mouth moving faster and faster as you explain how despised vampires are in the Land of Reason, how people view them as monsters and how you’re certain you’re cursed.

Cursed. What a funny word to say to him.

“Is that why your canines are so sharp?” he blurts, leaning closer to your face.

You stop talking, bending backward just a bit at his sudden closeness.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” you ask, looking confused.

“Ah, well....I always thought they were cute.” he smiles kindly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I...” you blink owlishly before shaking your head in disbelief, “Blanc, I just told you I’m a vampire.”

“Indeed you did.”

Your mouth falls open as if looking for the right words to say, and yet you come up with nothing.

“You can feed from me if you wish. I don’t want you to suffer any longer.” he offers like its the most natural thing in the world.

Still, you say nothing.

And then he murmurs your name, as soft as the flower petals brushing against your ankles.

“I don’t want to use you like that. I don’t want you to be a food source for me.” you grit your teeth, staring at the ground like you couldn’t be more ashamed, “I don’t want to be the monster the Land of Reason made me out to be.”

“You’re not. I give myself to you willingly, and I'll do it over and over again.” Blanc murmurs, hands slipping away from you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbone open to the nighttime breeze and your eyes.

“My love.” he opens his arms for you and his shirt slips off his shoulder, leaving his skin vulnerable—

“I give myself to you.”

And he pulls you into his chest, as he whispers words of love telling you that you can bite him, drink from him, take all that you need and that it will be okay because he’d give you everything if you asked for it, and that you changed his life for the better, you brought springtime’s flowers and winter’s shimmering ice and summer’s warm sunlight and autumn’s delicate, beautiful leaves to a life that was so repetitive and boring until you arrived—a life that belonged to the man you see before you but not anymore because its yours and it will always be yours.

Tears prick your eyes as you kiss his skin, worshiping each freckle and small scar you can reach. Your canines poke insistently at his skin and you ignore the urge for one, two, three, four, five seconds before your mouth opens and you bite down, hoping the small gasp that leaves his lips isn’t one of pain. You’re careful not to take too much but it tastes so good and who knew drinking from the one you loved could make you feel so happy and full.

Blanc looks up at the moon as you feed, happiness and adoration blurring his vision as he thinks about you, you who trusted him enough to bite him, to tell him who you were, you who stayed behind for him even though you could have left.

He stares up at the moon and sighs because he’s in love. He’s in love with you.

And after you’re done, after you pull away and lick the puncture marks to soothe them, after you press a dozen more kisses to his skin, Blanc still loves you. His blood is smeared around your mouth but he pulls you in anyway, kissing you with everything he has because you deserve nothing less than that.

And he loves you.

Over and over again, he loves you.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be aging or how long you will have by his side, but he knows that if you will forever be his constant, he’ll come out okay in the end.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

[n1ght0f-nyx]

I love your work, could I request a fem reader with Simon / Ghost from Call of duty. If you're comfortable with it could it be smut such as accidental aphrodisiac maybe from a mission. Love confession and reader helping him through it.

note- i am no scientist i dont think there is any gases with aphrodisiac affects do not come at me i am but a humble whore

simon ghost riley x fem!reader smut

warnings/tags- smut, semi non-con? aphrodisiac, simon loves you but tries to hide it, even after you two fuck, kinda ends with angst, handjob and semi dry humping, ghost is kinda submissive under the drug effects, no actual pnv, yall fuck in soaps bed i am so sorry about how long this took ive been so busy <3 word count- 3002

The dark canopy of the woods stretched out above, dappled sunlight barely breaking through the dense trees as you and Ghost moved silently through the underbrush. You had worked with Simon countless times before, and even though the man was a legend in the field, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in his behavior around you. There was something about the way his eyes lingered just a bit too long, or how he always seemed to position himself closer than necessary during missions. But you never pressed him about it—especially not when you were on a mission. Professionalism was key.

At least, it was supposed to be. As you crept closer to your target, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something wasn’t right. You glanced over at Ghost, his skeletal mask somehow making him more imposing in the eerie quiet of the forest. He gave you a quick nod, acknowledging the silent tension that had begun to build.

"Stay sharp," he murmured through his comms, voice gruff and low.

Suddenly, a crack in the distance—a single twig snapping underfoot—followed by the unmistakable sound of hissing. Gas. You and Ghost were trained for this; the masks went on instantly, the world around you slightly distorted through the visor.

"Ambush!" Ghost barked, grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a tree as gunfire erupted.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you returned fire, quickly scanning the area for the source of the gas. A canister lay nearby, still spewing its noxious fumes into the air. You couldn't tell what type it was, but your gut told you this was more than just a smoke screen.

"Gas masks on!" you yelled, even though you both had already secured them.

Ghost was already engaging the enemy, his shots precise and lethal. You took cover beside him, suppressing the approaching force. But the gas... something about it was different. You could feel the tension in the air, and though your mask kept you from inhaling most of it, a small tear in Ghost’s mask had let just enough of the gas slip through. You saw him falter for a split second, just before you took out the last enemy.

"Simon?" you asked, voice laced with concern as the gunfire died down.

"I'm fine," he growled, but his voice was shaky. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it.

"We need to fall back to base, now," you insisted, watching him carefully. Something was off, but there was no time to analyze it here. You grabbed his arm, tugging him along as you both made a hasty retreat.

The journey back to base was tense. Ghost was unusually quiet, and though he was always the stoic type, this felt different. He kept pace with you, but you could feel his eyes on you through his mask—watching, lingering.

Once you made it back to the extraction point, the helicopter ride to base was eerily silent. You tried to focus on the mission debriefing, but your thoughts kept drifting to Simon. You could tell something was wrong, but it wasn’t until you landed and headed to the barracks that he finally spoke.

"That gas...'s fuckin' me up" he muttered under his breath as you both made your way to the decontamination area.

You paused, turning to him. "What do you mean? are you alright?"

He lifted his mask just enough to reveal the lower part of his face, and you noticed the slight flush in his cheeks. His pupils were dilated, and his breathing was heavier than it should have been after a mission. It hit you then—whatever was in that gas, it had gotten to him.

He can't help but feel a powerful surge of attraction towards you, and the usual emotional barriers that usually hold him back now seem to dissolve. As drool trickles down the corner of his lips, he struggles to focus on the task at hand - getting medical attention - while his body seems to have a mind of its own, responding to the intense physiological effects of the chemical. His voice slurs ever so slightly, and his gaze falls on you, his eyes clouding over in a daze, his hand instinctively reaching out to pull you closer.

"I'm fine," he mumbled again, though this time his voice was softer, almost... vulnerable. "But you... look different."

You blinked. "Different? Simon, you're not making any sense."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your neck despite the cool air of the base. His mask had slipped down further, and for the first time, you saw a hint of the man beneath. His eyes, normally cold and calculating, were now filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Something deeper. Something raw.

"You have no idea, do you?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "How long I've waited... how much I've wanted to..."

You stood frozen in shock, his words hanging in the air like a confession. A part of you wanted to step away, to put some distance between yourselves, but another part of you was drawn to him, his words and actions fueled by the chemical in his system. His touch was intoxicating, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. Despite the danger that was lurking within him, your heart raced at the proximity, your skin tingling with anticipation.

His pupils dilated as he moved closer, his voice husky as he whispered, "I've wanted to touch you, to feel you under me. I've wanted to taste you for so long." His fingers brushed against your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through you as he continued, "I've wanted to make you moan, to drive you wild, to hear you scream out my name."

His words were a promise, a warning, and yet... it was also something more. It was as if, despite the chemical's effects, Simon was speaking from a deep, buried part of himself, a place where emotions ran deeper and his desires were raw and honest. And in that moment, you couldn't help but wonder, what did he really want from you? What did he truly desire beyond the surface level of lust and adrenaline?

Simon's hand slid down your arm, his touch sending sparks along your skin. You felt your defenses begin to crumble, his words and actions weaving a spell around you that was hard to resist. But even as your body responded to his touch, your mind was racing with questions - what had been in that gas? What did Simon truly want from you? And what would happen if he didn't get what he desired?

Despite the trepidation, a thrill coursed through you as Simon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, possessive gesture. His mouth tasted like the desert air, warm and dry, with a hint of salt from the sweat on his skin. The kiss was a slow burn, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't contain.

"Simon," you breathed, your hands reaching up to grip the sides of his mask, pulling him closer.

His grip on you tightened, his hand cradling the back of your head as his lips pressed harder against yours. The kiss deepened, his tongue dancing against yours with a reckless abandon that sent shivers down your spine. You could taste the faint hint of chemicals still lingering on his breath, a reminder of what had happened, but also the intoxicating allure that drove him to want you like this.As you pulled back from the kiss, his eyes remained closed, his face inches from yours, his breathing heavy and labored. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs like a drumbeat in the silence. For a fleeting moment, the chaos of the world outside receded, and all that remained was this intense, overwhelming feeling between you both.

you smile and look up at him, seeing the lust and want in his eyes, you could tell he was high both off the gas and off his feelings, The hand cradling the back of your head tightened its grip, pulling you closer. He leaned in once more, his mouth inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. The air was charged with tension, the atmosphere electric.

The mask's grip on you tightened, and you felt a jolt of excitement run through you as Simon's breath washed against your lips, the air between you both charged with electric tension. His eyes, though cloudy from the gas, locked onto yours, his gaze burning with a deep-seated craving. It was as if the chemical cocktail had set free a part of him that you hadn't seen before, a raw and primal desire that threatened to consume him whole.

With a gentle push of his face, Simon pressed his mask against yours, his lips tracing a delicate path against the edge of the visor, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your body respond to his touch, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing moment. His hand, still cradling the back of your head, drew you in closer, his mouth moving in a slow, languid dance along the curves of your face.

"You," he whispered, his voice a low growl of longing, "have always been the one I want, even when I didn't know what it was." His words were a mixture of honesty and drunkenness, but it didn't matter. The sincerity in his voice, the urgency in his movements, was enough to have you drowning in the depths of his passion.

His chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an insatiable longing. Without saying a word, he reached for the zipper on your jacket, slowly sliding it down your torso. The fabric pooled at your feet, leaving you exposed to the chill night air.

A tremulous whisper escaped your lips as his hands began tracing patterns across your bare skin, mapping every curve and contour. Each brush of his fingertips ignited a trail of flames, spreading outward from the contact points. You arched toward him, craving more of those electrifying sensations.

Inside the barracks, the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the creaking of old wooden bunk beds and the distant hum of the base's generators. The dim lighting cast long shadows, making it seem as though the very darkness itself was alive and watching.

Simon's pace was labored, his gait uneven as he stumbled through the shadows towards you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and stale air, but to you, it was a familiar comfort, like coming home. You could sense Simon's struggle to focus on anything except for you, his eyes darting around as if searching for something, anything else.

As he reached the edge of the room, he turned back, a look of desperation crossing his features. He lunged towards you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

The kiss was frantic, passionate, as though they were fighting against a tide that threatened to tear them apart. You could taste the fear, the panic, beneath the surface of his emotions. It sent a thrill of excitement through you, a primal urge that told you to give in to whatever this was, this explosive energy between you.

they collapsed onto the closest bed (which just happened to be soaps), entwined in a heap of limbs and tangled sheets. Their chests heaved in tandem, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they struggled to catch their breath.

As you leaned in closer, your hand brushed against his thigh, sending a shiver down his spine. His body responded instinctively, hardness pressing against his pants. He winced at the sudden ache, his breath quickening in anticipation of what was to come.

The leather of his belt creaked as you released the buckle, the sound echoing through the silence of the barracks. His pulse raced with excitement and nerves, his eyes never leaving yours as you slid the strap down, revealing the outline of his arousal beneath.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. There was a part of him that didn't want to know, a part that wanted to remain innocent and untouched. But another part, the part that had been screaming for release all evening, urged him to let go and surrender to the sensations you were about to awaken.

Your fingers danced across the fabric of his underwear, teasing and probing the sensitive skin beneath. He closed his eyes, feeling a rush of warmth flood through his body as his senses were awakened. His hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more stimulation.

As you guided him out of his clothes, he opened his eyes to watch you, mesmerized by the sight of your hands moving deftly over his naked form. His erection throbbed with expectation, begging for relief from the pent-up tension.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be letting things escalate this far. But he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, because the prospect of losing control, of giving in to the primal urges raging within him, was too enticing to resist.

With a final tug, you freed him completely, exposing his throbbing cock to the cool air of the barracks. He gasped softly, his eyes widening in awe as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him gently, coaxing forth a stream of precum that slicked his length.

He bucked his hips, urging you on, wanting more, needing more. His breath hitched in his throat as he realized the extent of his submission, the depths to which he was willing to sink to satisfy his cravings.

His eyes glazed over, his breathing quickening as you pumped your fist up and down his shaft at an alarming rate. The skin around his eyes began to tighten, his pupils dilating until they seemed to suck in every ounce of light.

His hips thrust up to meet your hand, a silent cry building in his throat. The pressure began to build in his groin, threatening to overflow as you relentlessly worked his erection.

His hands clenched and unclenched, the muscles in his arms taut with tension as you brought him to the brink of orgasm. The room spun around him, the sounds of the barracks fading into a distant murmur as everything focused on the intense pleasure coursing through his body.

His vision blurred, his world narrowing to a single, burning point. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except feel the impending climax.

Then, in a flash of heat and release, it came. He arched his back, a guttural cry tearing from his throat as he spilled forth, the pleasure ripping through him like a wildfire. you climb over to straddle his lap, grinding your clothed cunt over his cock

His eyes snapped shut, his hands rising to massage your tits as you started to ride him. The fabric between your flesh and his dick created a maddening friction, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.

His cock jerked beneath you, straining against the fabric to get closer, to delve deeper into the heat of your center. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the wetness of your desire, the urgency with which you sought to sate your own needs.

His fingers dug into your flesh, holding you close as you ground against him, your movements building in intensity and speed. The pressure mounted, his climax imminent.

He grasped his balls, squeezing them gently as he felt the rush of pleasure building to a head. The room around you faded to nothingness, leaving only the two of you, lost in the vortex of your combined desires.

With a hoarse cry, his orgasm shattered through him, the release so intense it bordered on agony. You rode out the wave of ecstasy, your own pleasure reaching a fever pitch as you climaxed in tandem with him.

The aftermath was a haze of exhaustion, your bodies spent, your breathing ragged. He lay there, his cock still buried between your thighs, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes drifted open, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you glimpsed a glimpse of the real person beneath the mask, the vulnerability and intimacy that existed between you both.

It was a fleeting moment, gone as soon as reality set in. He withdrew from you, rolling onto his back, panting heavily. The silence that followed was palpable, the tension between you thicker than the air.

You sat up, running a hand through your damp hair, trying to process the events that had transpired. The gas, the adrenaline, the sheer intensity of the moment—it all swirled together in a confusing mess.

He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his chest still rising and falling with each ragged breath. You wondered if he'd say anything, if he'd acknowledge the depth of his emotions, but instead, he simply lay there, lost in thought.

The silence grew longer, stretching out like a thin thread connecting you both. Finally, he stirred, pushing himself upright, his eyes fixed on you with a renewed intensity.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse from exertion.

You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the events that had unfolded. "Yeah, I'm good."

He looked at you, studying your face, searching for something. After a moment, he nodded, seeming to accept whatever answer he found.

Without another word, he climbed off the bed, dressing hastily, his movements economical and efficient. Once clothed, he turned back to you, his eyes serious.

"thanks for that" he said, his voice devoid of inflection, trying to disguise his love for just a drugged favour. "Don't wait up."

With that, he walked out of the barracks, leaving you alone in the darkness, wondering what exactly had just occurred.

[webslingingslasher]

trouble waking peter up bc she’s horny… I stg he’s never been happier to be woken up

“blood, tears and fire only”? he’s gna have to add one more to the list

YES. IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG.

it’s like being so hungry, you wake up with a growling stomach. knots tied and pulled, gurgling for sustenance. this is a new kind of hungry, one that has you famished. you could eat alone, or, you could invite peter to the buffet.

you start gentle, he’ll be grumpy no matter what, but maybe this time he’d catch on to your desperate touches and connect the pieces. peter looks so peaceful when he sleeps, it’s like he turns off all thoughts from the outside world.

‘peter?’ taps on his arm, they turn into delicate pokes. ‘peter? are you up?’ you’re unsure of him moving away from you means yes, he still looks asleep. ‘yes? you’re awake?’

peter breathes deep, you start to feel guilty, but not enough to let him continue his slumber. ‘pst, peter. wake up, please.’ a light shake, it does enough, your touch is shook off.

‘leave me alone.’ his blanket is tugged under his chin, its risen over your head, you bat it off, peter blissfully reaching back into dream land.

‘no, wait.’ you’re met with a heavy sigh, ‘what’s the rule, trouble?’ you trace shapes on his shoulder, like a toddler, you recite his bedtime rules. ‘blood, tears, and fire only.’

‘do we have any of those?’

you’re so… hungry you could burst into tears. but, that’s not what peter asked. ‘no.’ a satisfied nod, ‘great. i’ll talk to you when the suns up.’ the blanket is forced over your head again, you shove it off, this time you’re met with a whiny ‘hey!’

‘i think we need to add another one into the rulebook.’ peter cracks an eye open, you’re too awake for his comfort. ‘what time is it?’ you look behind you, a flash of white on your screen. ‘two.’

‘jesus, trouble. what do we need to add?’ you blank, peter’s frustration shows. ‘c’mon, quickly.’ you roll to your back, ‘i’m… horny. really, really horny.’

a total one eighty from peter, suddenly he’s wide eyes and smiles. ‘oh! okay, yeah, sure, we can add that.’ you blink your eyes and in the short second peter rolled himself over to lay above you.

'what do you want? something quick or the full shebang?' you think he might have been sending you the graphic dream because he's just as, if not more, ready as you are. peter's tugging his, your shirt off while you move your hips around to make more room for him.

'um, i mean we can have sex, sure.' peter looks up at your face, he leans back slightly, the missing blanket makes you shiver. 'you don't sound sure.'

'it's kind of selfish, so, yeah. let's have sex.' you hum when peter wraps an arm around your hip and tugs you closer to him. 'what's selfish?' it's two in the morning and you woke him up from a dead sleep, you shouldn't push him any further.

'what i want. let's just have a quickie.' you reach for his boxers, your hand stings when it's slapped away. 'ow?' peter pushes past it, 'what do you want?'

you feel shy for a moment, it feels like you're using him, you want to ditch the whole thing. you went from overtly horny to guilty in a second. 'i don't know...' peter isn't playing your games, he leans in over you.

'i'm not asking again, trouble. what do you want?' meaning, if you won't tell him, he'll override the situation and shut it down. 'okay, okay. could you... please?' it helps nothing, you just hate asking for it.

peter might not be able to fill in the blanks, but he could pick up a hint. 'could i?' your hands rest on his shoulders, he questions you and you answer by gently pushing him away, pushing him... down.

'what are you... oh, are you? that's what you want?' you pull the comforter over his head, peter fights it off, his hair falls in tufts. 'don't lock me down there, it's dark and hot.' that was the complaint? he's not upset?

'you're not mad that i woke you up just to go down on me?'

'god, no.' kisses down your neck, 'what's the rule?'

you smile, 'blood, tears, fire, and sex only.'

'that's my girl.'

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (IV)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your relationship with Adar develops and you already see he is going to be a completely different kind of a partner than Sauron was. You're trying to gain your new husband's trust and you accompany him and his army during the attack on Tirharad where you get to witness the Orcs' battlefield havoc for the first time with your own eyes.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I am hyperfixating on this fic so much and it feels amazing to be so devoted to writing again. In general, the brainrot is real when it comes to The Rings of Power and I have not expected it but it is the most welcome. I already loved Season One but nothing could have prepared me for Season Two! 💕 Because of that, this fic will most likely have more parts than I have planned, so be warned already. I also might have an idea for a fic with Annatar but I would rather make it a long one-shot instead of starting yet another multichapter... But we will see... 🤔 I start my job soon and I honestly have no idea how I will be able to focus there to learn all my tasks if all I can think of is Adar and Sauron lol

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, every trigger from S01E06 (death, battle, violence) + Reader is not very fond of the humans and considers them a lower form of life (she is Sauron's lover, okay? I do not share her beliefs because I am a human, too)

WORD COUNT — 5,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (IV)

Tirharad was close but the Orcs could not travel freely in daylight. Even hidden by the thick forest, when the sun rose high up enough, they had to hide. So, you were standing by your horse and watching them setting up a small camp in the middle of the woods. Adar was standing nearby and you could overhear his conversation with Glûg.

“Are we attacking tonight, Lord Father?” The Orc asked.

“Tomorrow,” Adar answered and squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Tonight I shall send the scouts to observe the village,” he explained and Glûg nodded at him before going away to tell the news to his friends.

Adar approached you and you slightly flinched, which was an unplanned and uncontrolled reaction. He spotted it and froze for a short while, refusing to get any further. You were surprised to see that he seemed to respect your personal space and he was ready to back off any moment after realising you were not comfortable with him being around you now. On the other hand, considering the tortures he had been through, it made sense that he was sensitive about the concept of violating someone’s space.

When you first had seen him, he had terrified you. And the idea of marrying him had been the most dreadful. But now you were slowly realising that as cruel as he was to his enemies – he would not be a husband as brutish.

“What am I doing here?” You asked him, quietly. Then, you looked up to meet his gaze. “If it was your plan to destroy Ostirith and its habitants all along… Why save me? Why take me with you?” You asked, genuinely wondering.

“We share certain… qualities,” Adar explained softly. “Loneliness, attraction to darkness. You were trying to tempt me so I would agree to your father’s offer and marry you. And you have tempted me indeed because I’ve been lonely for a few centuries too long now,” he admitted. “And it was the most endearing when I realised you were doing it all for your mother.”

You looked down, not being able to hold his gaze any longer when he mentioned your mother. Yes, it was true that you had been sacrificing yourself for her as well. But what truly had been in the back of your mind was Sauron and the fact that getting close to Adar and his army of Orcs could help your lover in his future schemes.

And perhaps Adar indeed was sick with loneliness if he couldn’t see how truly rotten you were.

“Lord Father, your tent is ready,” one of the Orcs approached you and pointed at the largest tent for Adar to rest in.

“Thank you. Prepare one for my wife, too,” Adar nodded at him.

“There is no need. That one is big enough for us two,” you pointed out and walked inside without looking back.

You looked around and sat on the wooden chair by the small table. The Orcs had no home, so they were travelling with some furniture in case they would spend their days in camps like this one. It was a very poor setting but you were not one of the Elves who had grown up in the rich and beautiful realms like Eregion or Mithlond, so you were not complaining.

Adar walked inside, carrying a heavy wooden chest with some of his belongings. You watched him place it on the ground nearby the bed.

“These are too important to lose or leave unsupervised,” he informed you and straightened his back before looking down at your face. “If you do not wish to be in my presence for now, I understand. I thought you would hate me. Perhaps you do but you do not show it as fiercely as I suspected you would.”

“I feel bad for the Elves you slaughtered inside Ostirith just because they were unfortunate enough to work under my father,” you admitted. “But watching this fortress tumbling to the ground was an oddly satisfying experience to me,” you added and Adar furrowed his brows. “It had been like a prison too many times,” you explained.

In fact, you mourned Ostirith a little but no amount of admitting it would change what had happened and you did not want him to see your weaknesses. You wanted to earn his trust as much as you could. His and his children’s.

“What do you keep there?” You changed the subject lazily and pointed at the wooden chest with your chin. You truly were curious but you wanted to ask in a careless manner, so he would not get too suspicious.

Adar hesitated for a moment before crouching down next to the chest and opening it. You had to fight every muscle in your body from trying to get a better look inside and to keep appearing unbothered.

But when he lifted up the Iron Crown, you gasped. A thrill went down your spine; a malicious shiver as your heart clenched inside your chest. You could smell Sauron’s blood on it and you immediately realised how your beloved had died. It was a twisted way to get rid of him and quite poetic, too – you had to admit it.

“You recognise the item,” Adar pointed out.

“Has my father not mentioned my education and intuition?” You cracked a nervous smile. “How did you get Morgoth’s crown?”

Adar only smiled at that and hid the item again, locking the chest with a key that he kept with himself.

“It is strong enough to kill Sauron – it has defeated him once. Not fully, so it seems. But with the help of even stronger magic, it could work again and this time it could finish the job,” he explained. “Now you know how important this chest is. I have shown it to you in case something happens to me.”

Now it was your time to smile mysteriously but you only nodded at him to show him you understood completely.

“Do you wish to rest now, my Lady?” Adar asked as he straightened his back and stood up. “I shall go to my children and answer their questions about the attack,” he said.

“I have nothing else to do, it seems, my Lord,” you sighed and leaned back on the chair as you watched him approaching the way out of the tent. “Unless…” You stopped him and he turned his head around. “Unless you would not mind my company. I am curious about the attack myself,” you added. “I am your wife,” you reminded him. “Your equal. I wish to stand by you always instead of hiding away in tents, camps and woods; left in the darkness of not knowing what is happening around me. I have never wished to be this kind of woman,” you stood up as if you were challenging him.

“You take matters into your own hands,” Adar commented. “I have seen that already back in Ostirith. You may join me, wife,” he emphasised the last word and it sounded a bit like mockery but you also spotted a hint of affection.

He extended his hand carefully towards you, still remembering how you had flinched before but this time you were in full control of your body, so you approached him, although instead of taking his hand, you put yours on his arm like a viper snake tightening its hold around the victim.

But your victim was powerful and treacherous, therefore you had to be the most cautious.

Adar deciding to attack in the evening of the next day only prolonged the anxious anticipation. You had never taken a part in any battle of this sort before.

When you had told your husband that you had never wanted to be this kind of woman – hiding away and waiting – that had been a lie. You had been like this with Sauron whenever he had been scheming and plotting somewhere. All you had been doing was warming up the bed for him. And whenever he had been back… He had been the most hungry and thirsty for you. That was all you had been caring about with Sauron. That, and to become his Queen.

But the cruel fate had taken your lover away from you and now it was time to prove your love and devotion to him. To help him – as simple as it was. You would bring the army of the Orcs to him and you would destroy your own realm for him on the way if you had to.

Sauron had always been quite… chatty. He had not only been drowning you with the countless affections and sweet words but he had also been sharing lots of his plans with you while playing with your hair or caressing the curves of your body. And perhaps he had been thinking that you had not been listening to any of it but it was not true. You had been a devoted listener.

And you knew his plan for the Southlands was to take over these lands and to make them his own terrifying realm. You knew his plans for your home were the most horrific and yet you liked the idea of ruling Middle-earth from the ruins of your homeland. It would be a symbol for you – a purge of the Southlands and Ostirith – your personal prison being turned into ashes and you becoming the Queen of them.

However horrific it would be, you knew it would not matter. You would rule alongside your lover and that was all you needed. You could be his Queen in the most precious gemstones and you could be his Queen in rags. You could rule over the beautiful Elves and you could rule over the filthy Orcs and it made no difference to you. What mattered was being by his side and getting intoxicated with his love and his worship.

Thinking of Sauron fondly, you wondered if you should try to wear your tempting nightgown again for this night as the sounds of the partying Orcs were reaching you from the outside of the tent. But then you thought that perhaps the nightgown had the opposite effect on Adar who simply did not like seeing you trying to seduce him. So, you just stripped yourself down to an underdress and rested on the bed, looking bored as you played with the necklace around your neck.

When Adar entered the tent, he tilted his head at the sight of you and then he sighed, sitting by the table and opening the notes from the scouts that had been waiting for him.

You kept observing him from the corner of your eye but he seemed to be uninterested in you, so you rolled your eyes and looked away. For a man claiming to be so lonely, he was also very cold. And you knew that in the eyes of the Valars, you were still unwed because the marriage was not consummated. However, you did not want to push him into anything because it could cause his mistrust and anger.

“I am scared of my uncertain position here,” you finally admitted and he froze before turning around to look at you, confused, still holding the piece of paper in his hand.

“What do you mean, my Lady? You are my wife,” he shook his head.

“No, I am not… yet,” you swallowed thickly and squeezed the pendant of your necklace in your hand.

You had no idea how to seduce sexually or convince him to join you in bed because Sauron had never taught you any of this – he had always been an eager lover.

Adar sighed and left the table to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked down at you. He extended his hand to brush your cheeks with his fingertips and then he allowed his hand to go lower to your chest, which was rising up and down in the pace that was going quicker now. In that moment, you could see clearly in his eyes that he desired you, so you could not understand why he was stopping himself from going further.

“Is it because of something Morgoth had done to you?” You asked, trying to sound gentle and hoping it would not anger him.

“No,” Adar shook his head with a very gentle hint of a smile. “It is because you do not want it willingly,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “When I agreed to marry you, I knew you were being forced by your father. You could have been assuring me that you wanted it but I knew you were only doing it for your mother and now, when she is safe, you are doing it to ensure your own position,” he kept explaining and you couldn’t help being surprised.

He was one of the most dangerous people you had ever met and surely one of the most brutal and yet he refused to harm his own wife in any way even if it was not love that had bonded you two but loneliness and the shared rot of the soul.

“Do you know that arranged marriage is against the Elven customs?” Adar asked with a sad smile.

“We are going against all Elven customs, haven’t you noticed, my Lord?” You swallowed thickly and lifted yourself up on your elbows.

“You are wearing my ring and I am wearing yours. We are wed for eternity no matter what,” Adar stood up to leave the edge of your bed. “And eternity is a long time for you to eventually warm yourself up to the idea of sharing your bed with me. And if not, I shall survive,” he shrugged his arms. “There is more to life than the pleasure of the flesh.”

You opened your mouth to say something – anything – and to deny his words, to keep tempting him somehow. But Adar interrupted you and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Speaking of survival, I have something for you. Gifts,” Adar pointed at the chest that had been put inside the tent not so long ago by one of the Orcs but you had been ignoring it until now.

“I did not expect you to be a husband who would spoil his wife with gifts,” you tried to tease as you sat up fully now and watched him open the chest.

“These are not traditional gifts by any means,” Adar warned you and he approached the bed again to hand you a slim and beautifully ornamented dagger, made of black metal.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. In fact, it nearly made you sick and you tried very hard not to show how much this item had affected your senses.

It was Sauron’s dagger; the one he had been carrying with him most of the time. Adar had to take it away from him alongside the crown when he had murdered your beloved. You knew that dagger – you had been watching Sauron with it countless of times. And Sauron himself had been using it on you many times before to increase the pleasure of your intimate moments. That dagger meant the world to you and to hold it in your hand was like holding the hand of your lover again after all those centuries of separation and yearning.

“I-it is beautiful,” you stuttered out and took it, trying to compose yourself.

“You seem to be uneasy,” Adar furrowed his brow and you quickly came up with an excuse as you looked up at him with a trembling lower lip.

“It is of great beauty but I can sense a tremendous darkness within it,” you explained.

“It belonged to Sauron,” Adar admitted. “If it is too corrupted for you, I can take it from you and have a custom one made,” he assured you. 

“I can handle it,” you shook your head and squeezed your hand around the blade’s hilt. “It was just a slight disturbance when I first touched it,” you answered. “Thank you, that gift is very thoughtful, my husband,” you forced a smile and Adar sighed with relief. He extended his hand to gently grab your chin and caress your cheek before he walked away to the chest once again.

And when he turned around one more time, you gasped once again at the sight of a black breastplate. It was Elven – you recognised the ornaments in the shapes of leaves immediately.

“It belonged to one of the Elves we killed on the way. We collect their armour to later transform the pieces into the items we find useful but this breastplate I ordered to paint black since it might suit your size,” Adar admitted. “You march with the army and you need to be protected from the blades and arrows of our enemies,” Adar placed the breastplate on the chair next to the bed but you already stood up, all ready to wear it and see for yourself.

He assisted you in putting it on and you had no mirror to see how you looked, so you had to rely on his opinion on it.

“And?” You asked, excitedly.

“I think it fits you well, my Lady,” Adar nodded and you smiled widely at him. “And I see the gifts do please you.”

“Of course they do. So far, the books have been my weapons, but this feels quite empowering,” you admitted and tried to get a glimpse of your appearance in the reflection of your dagger’s blade.

Sauron had only been gifting you jewellery, dresses and nightgowns that later would end up torn or cut up with this very dagger. Sometimes, he had given you a book when he had wanted you to study it for him to help him expand his knowledge. And as much as you loved being spoiled and worshipped by him in this way, you also found it very dignifying to receive gifts of this sort from your husband.

“I want my wife to be respected not only because of being my spouse but because of who she is on her own. I want the whole Middle-earth to see the Dark Lady that you are,” Adar confessed in the Quenya language while he stood behind you and you felt his hands on your hips as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. You watched his distorted reflection in the blade of your dagger and in that moment, you swore, you truly wanted him and it scared you because it could mean that it was not Sauron whom you loved but the promise of power he had been presenting you with.

You felt the small amount of pain from squeezing the blade too tightly and it brought you back to reality. You shook these thoughts off and took a deep breath in. Of course you loved Sauron – you loved everything about him. Every inch of you craved and missed him to the point that you ended up caressing the hilt of the dagger for the whole night long, trying to feel the remains of his fingertips.

You have observed the fire of the burning villages from the Ostirith’s watchtower but now you were experiencing the Orcs’ havoc for the first time personally, walking into burning Tirharad alongside your husband. Dead human bodies scattered under your feet while the rooftops of the houses burnt as the Orcs kept destroying everything on their way as if they were in a frenzy, chanting the word nampat. 

You were wearing your new breastplate over your black dress and you had the dagger attached to it on your hip in case you needed it but there were no humans around anymore even though they had to fight bravely since the ground was also full of the dead bodies of the Orcs.

You were careful with your steps and it felt as if you watched the scene in slow motion – in a way, you were alone in the middle of this small hell. You let Adar walk past you as your own pace slowed down. Those were the lands your father had been the guardian of. Now they were burning and you only watched.

No, you didn’t just watch. You participated in it. You had brought death to the village of Tirharad.

“Is that what you wish to be?” You joined your husband’s side again. “The King of ashes?” You asked.

“I do not wish to be a King,” he remarked, “and my children do prefer the ashes.”

You joined the Orcs that were trying to get inside the tavern where the remaining villagers seemed to be hiding and they had barricaded themselves. However, it was only a matter of time when the Orcs would finally be able to open the wooden doors.

You felt a thrill of anticipation and excitement when they succeeded. You were not quite sure what was the item your husband was seeking – as much as he trusted you with some things and had even shown you the crown of Morgoth, he also kept some information hidden from you.

You took a step ahead but Adar’s hand stopped you from walking further by taking you by your wrist as the Orcs ran inside, attacking the villagers.

“Do not rush, my Lady,” he scolded you gently. “Let my children take them over first. You would make an easy target,” he pointed out and even though his words hurt your pride a little, you knew he was right and he had only done it to protect you.

You nodded your head at him and you waited a moment before Adar let go of your hand and walked inside the tavern. You could hear how quiet it got and you understood why since he had that effect on people. You took a deep breath in and straightened your back before following him, ready to face all those humans and make your appearance as Adar’s Dark Lady for the first time in public.

But when you walked inside, there was only one person that you could keep your eyes on as you gasped quietly at the sight of him. He was being held by two Orcs and his eyes widened at the sight of you, too.

“Arondir…” You whispered his name. “I thought you were dead,” you admitted.

He had not returned from one of his scouting missions and that had been one of many such cases lately when the Orcs had overtaken these lands. You all had mourned him already in Ostirith and you personally had been very sad about him in particular because you considered him to be one of your closest friends inside the fortress.

“My Lady…” Arondir was clearly confused to see you like this. “I thought the same of you when we watched Ostirith fall,” he admitted. “I have mourned you.”

“And I have mourned you, old friend,” you nodded at him and you stood next to Adar. You finally looked at the other faces and they kept staring at you with terror.

They knew you. You did not know them but they knew about you. Your father had been no King but he had been the protector and the guardian of these lands and you were his only daughter – a beautiful Elven maiden walking around the forests or riding her horse through this realm, sometimes talking to its habitants on the way. You were a part of their stories and myths, their songs and their legends and in their eyes you were a Princess. 

Now, they could not comprehend why you were standing next to the man who was the very reason of their doom.

However, no one dared to ask any question. Not even Arondir and you just knew he had to be dying of curiosity to know what had happened. Just like you were pretty curious to find out why he had never made it back to Ostirith, which seemed to had been his own choice.

In the meantime, after observing your interaction with Arondir, Adar approached him slowly, staring at your friend with the most intensity.

“What I seek. Give it to me,” Adar said in the Quenya language. 

“Let them go. I will consider it,” Arondir answered in the same speech and no trace of fear was spotted upon his face. You knew that your husband would not get whatever he wanted easily because you knew Arondir and you were aware of his stubborn and courageous nature. You were afraid it would lead him to his death now and that was the loss you would grieve surely, especially after witnessing it with your own eyes.

Suddenly, you started to think that, perhaps, being this kind of woman – who would stay behind and wait… Perhaps it would be better. Perhaps Sauron had been protecting your innocence and your fragility when he had not been taking you with him anywhere. Perhaps he had not wanted anything else except for him to corrupt you.

Adar nodded his head at the Orcs and the ones who had human villagers at the ends of their blades began to use their weapons and kill these poor people.You tried your best to remain unbothered by it but your heart pounded inside of your chest. You could see some of the people who were exclaiming in fear were also looking up to you to help them but you could not. You could not risk this fragile thread of trust that connected you with your husband.

And, unfortunately to them, no human life was worthy enough for you to risk ruining your plans to help Sauron in the end of all of this. They had to die, so the greater thing could emerge from it later. The Dark Lord who would heal all Middle-earth. Their sacrifice would be the most appreciated then.

“Why sacrifice their life for such a little thing?” Adar asked and in that moment once again you were confused by how cruel this man could be – the very same man who refused to touch you just to make sure everything between you two was consensual.

That made you feel special.

More people kept dying and Arondir screamed in anger into Adar’s face, then he looked at you, awaiting any reaction but there was none even though your eyes had to betray you a little bit and show some pain.

“Arondir, please,” you stepped in. “Just cooperate,” you tried to reason with him. “For the sake of our friendship.”

“I am no friend of yours!” Arondir spat out and even though his reaction was the most understandable, it stung your heart and angered you. 

You had never been able to handle rejection very well. The pain and compassion in your eyes turned into rage in a very brief moment. Sauron had always found your mood switches of this sort very endearing.

Adar turned around and spotted a wounded woman laying down with the blade pressed to her neck. She was oddly calm in the middle of this bloody chaos.

“The woman next,” Adar ordered and these three words seemed to have a very strong effect on Arondir. He screamed and grunted, trying to get out as the Orcs holding him struggled to keep him steady.

“No!” Some young boy shouted, most likely that woman’s son.

But you focused on Arondir as you smirked. So, it was love that had kept him away from Ostirith. It was love that had caused him to not come back. And it was love for a human to make it even more romantic in the cheapest way.

You had always heard stories of the Elves falling for the humans but you had never understood any of them. Why would any Elf fall for a creature so weak…? You were quite the opposite – you loved a Maia; nearly a God – and you often wondered what he had seen in you… a common Elf.

“Wait!” The young boy shouted at the Orc who raised his hand to strike the final blow upon the woman’s neck.

“No!” Arondir screamed at the boy and you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s under here,” the boy confessed, desperate to save his mother and Arondir looked at him with terror in his eyes. “It’s under here.”

“No…” Arondir whispered at this betrayal.

“Elves do love differently than humans,” you explained to the boy. “He might love your mother but he will still sacrifice her – and this whole village – for this one magic item,” you pointed out with mockery. “He does not understand why none of this matters to you. You just want to save your mother, am I right, boy?” You asked him and approached him as Arondir shot you a deadly glance.

But, in a way, you did not have to fake much of that compassion towards the boy. You knew what it was like to love your mother and to try to save her no matter the cost.

The boy nodded at you and you nodded at the Orc standing behind him to let him go. So he did and the boy grabbed the tool that would help him to get to the item.

“Theo!” Arondir called his name.

“I’m sorry,” the boy named Theo whispered and pried one of the stones that the floor of the tavern was made of.

Arondir kept grunting and trying to get out of the Orcs’ hold but they were stronger than him. Adar crouched down to get the small thing covered in dirty rags out of the hole under the stone as you stood above him and looked down with curiosity. When he opened it, a sword’s hilt was revealed and it had been forged in the same fashion as Sauron’s dagger or Morgoth’s crown. You could feel its dark magic as an ominous feeling sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, the loud rumbling reached your ears and you all furrowed your brows at the sound. You realised it was coming from the many horses going your way from afar. Someone was coming with an army to help the people of Tirharad.

You were scared at first. Scared of such a quick defeat. If it was an army of the Elves, your whole scheme would be over before it had even started. On the other hand, considering the fact you had been married to Adar for a few days, you could still save yourself by putting on a show of sobbing and explaining to the High King how much your awful father had been forcing you to become a part of this union. Perhaps he would believe you but you were scared of Gil-galad the most because he was so pure and made of such strong light that he would surely see through you immediately.

In such a case, it was very beneficial that your marriage at least had not been consummated.

Adar grabbed you by the sleeve of your dress and walked you out of the tavern. You could sense he was nervous as well and you two nearly bumped into Glûg standing in front of the building, anxiously waiting for his Lord Father to tell him the worrying news.

“The army is coming, Lord Father. We do not know yet who–” he started.

“I have a task for you,” Adar ignored him as he turned around to face you and Glûg shut his mouth as he looked down.

“What is it?” You asked, trembling slightly. The rumbling sound coming from the distance was growing louder as your anxiety was rising.

“You will go back to Ostirith and use your blood to extend the sword. There is a crevice – you know which one; Ostirith was your home. You have to insert the sword inside and twist it,” Adar handed you the hilt, still covered in the dirty rags.

You took it from him but you were out of words as you kept staring at him. He had to be desperate to give you out of all people such a task.

“That will open the dam,” you shook your head. “I do not understand.”

“Do it,” Adar insisted and clenched his jaw, staring at you intensely. “This way, you get to finish what I started and you get to be safe, away from the battlefield. You have no time to lose. Glûg will go with you,” he looked at at the Orc. “Look after my wife, Glûg.”

The Orc nodded at you, visibly proud of the job he was given.

You were still unsure of the whole thing, clenching the sword hilt covered in rags in your hands but you saw an opportunity of getting out of danger that was coming. However, when you looked at Adar, you realised it could be the last time you were seeing him alive and for some reason it made you sad a little bit. He was a mysterious man and you hoped to get to know some of his secrets before you would get back with Sauron.

“Are you sure you trust me with such a task?” You asked. He looked like it was a very important job to do and he cared deeply about it being done properly.

“I do not have many I can trust,” he only said.

“Clearly,” you answered and took a deep breath in before looking at Glûg. You nodded at him and you both ran away as fast as possible towards the woods.

MASTERLIST

[shotmrmiller]

fwb! ghost brainrot ive officially decided its gotta turn into ghoap x reader or im gonna eat my flextape. hopefully i can connect this one to the first one. team fix your plotholes or else, perra.

Fwb! Simon who just turned exclusive doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. Can’t say it doesn’t sting but as he said, you asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend. You understand because you aren’t sure Johnny would take too kindly to his best friend being disrespected in bed by someone he knows is a bonafide manwhore. 

So when Johnny pulls a pretty woman at the bar y'all are in, he also brings her friend for Simon, and that makes you prickle with jealousy. With a huff, you turn to face the crowd— away from the bitch putting her manicured hands on Simon. You’d like to believe that he is reciprocating her attention because if he doesn’t, Johnny would find it suspicious. But the way he wraps his arm around her waist, flirting back so effortlessly, reminds you of his ways. Of how he is.

Simon isn’t stupid. He wasn’t a part of the elite force Johnny’s in only because of his brawn. He was also brain. And that infuriates you. Talking to Simon is like dealing with a fucking genie.  Better be specific to the minute detail or anything that’s left to assumption is free game. 

Grabbing Johnny’s forearm to get his attention, he doesn’t look at you— too busy sweet-talking his next conquest, so you dig your nails into his skin. You see him wince and pull away roughly to sneer at the offender, but then his features smooth out instantly, once he realizes it’s you. Ice-blue eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol in his system, yet it feels like all he can see is you. His reaction makes your heart skip a beat, how quickly he ignores everything around him— puts everything on the backburner if you need something from him. You can't help the pleased smile that curls your lips at the realization.

“Hey, Johnny boy. I’ma go pay the tab,” and then you flick your eyes to the woman, “ do not leave without me.” 

“Dinnae worry, hen, as if I’d ever leave ye anywhere.” Your smile turns gloriously smug when you see the woman look at you in undisguised contempt. Blessed be Johnny, always in your corner. With another squeeze to his forearm, you chuckle when you hear a “Claws in, kitten!” and move to get up when you notice Simon no longer flirting with miss thing, but intently looking at Johnny’s forearm, which still has the half-moon marks of your nails on it. His gaze then snaps to yours, with an almost knowing glint behind them.

You roll your eyes and briskly walk to the bartender, flagging him down. When the bartender gives you the receipt to sign, a voice asks if he can buy you a drink. Sighing, you turn around to tell whoever that you aren’t interested.

“Incredibly generous, but—” and freeze. “Long time no see, eh?” 

It’s your ex. You ended things amicably enough— surprising, for him having been your first boyfriend, first everything, really.  Y’all just outgrew each other emotionally. Hugging him, you exclaim, “Jesus Christ, how’ve you been! It’s been far too long. What’re you doin’ here?” 

He responds, “I was just in town and figured I could get a drink, maybe some company,” you don’t miss the implication of that, but choose to ignore it. 

“How’s that goin’ for ya?”, and then he reaches out to grab your wrist and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ve got you now, don’t I? You look fantastic.” You’re about to let him down lightly when your hand is snatched out of his, and you’re forcibly pulled against someone, strong arm over your shoulders. 

“Whatever ye wan’ with her, the answer is naw. ” Johnny. You smother the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, how silly of you to think it could’ve been Simon. 

“Forever the guard dog, eh, John?” and Johnny’s arm tightens almost painfully and snarls.

“Still around, are ye? Just like a roach, boy.” Johnny and your ex never got along— always a pissing contest.  You have an inkling that it’s because of how close you two were and still are.

Your ex scoffs loudly at him, then looks at you. “It’s your choice, unless you’ve got a boyfriend?” and you shake your head. Johnny pulls you to stand in front of him, both arms holding you close.

“She doesnae. No one’s good enough fer her. Including ye.” 

Sucking your teeth, you sink your nails into Johnny’s forearm, again. “I think that’s for me to decide, no?” and pull at his arms to release you. “You’ve got some nerve, Johnny, bringing me here just to watch you and Ghost—” when you’re roughly pulled to the side,  held down by a much larger body. Simon. Your heart hammers in your chest. How long has he been standing here?

He lowers his mouth to your ear and sternly says, “Behave, pet. The sergeant said no. End of story.” 

When he uses that voice, all you can do is obey. 

“And who’re you?” You can feel Simon stand to his full height, broad shoulders straightening, posturing. Even slouched, he towered over your ex but standing like this, exuding strength and authority, it’s almost comical how large of a difference there is between them two— especially with you in his arms.

“I’m guard dog number two,” and your ex pales slightly. “I’d fuck off,” and Simon points towards the exit with his head, “Now.” He stiffens for a second, eyes bouncing between Johnny and Simon, and bolted—like prey after detecting predators. Not even a goodbye. You don't know if to applaud his sense of self-preservation or curse his cowardice. 

Johnny grabs your hand and leads you out the door, slinging his arm over you as y’all walk towards his home.

“Yer not mad, are ye?” and you keep quiet, he has always hated the silent treatment. “Bonnie—” and Simon cuts him off. 

“Who was that?” and Johnny looks back to answer. “Her ex-boyfriend. Very first one, wasn’t he, hen?” You dig your elbow into his ribcage and hiss out, “Johnny, you dolt! There is no need for you to be sharing that!” 

He laughs and brings your head in to kiss your temple. “I’m jus’ sayin’! Hen, no one out here is worth yer time. Ye cannae be mad at me for speakin’ the truth.” Exhaling, you curl your arm around his waist, going under his shirt to squeeze his waist. 

“Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to fill the void with you,” and Johnny swiftly continues your sentence. “And Ghost.” 

Absentmindedly, you nod. “And Ghost.” 

-

Had you been paying attention, you would’ve seen the way he and Ghost shared a calculated look before Johnny pressed another kiss a little closer to your mouth.

[amourtoken]

hi so this may be VERH tmi but like :( ive literally never ever been able to actually get off and its making me think of nicky or matt with an inexperienced reader :((((( helpin them get off and taking care of them andndjwnejenrne

I fucking love this and I was in your boat for YEARS so I entirely understand. I didn't realize I could even get off in the first place and thought the whole climax thing was just bs or that there was something wrong with me honestly 😭 I'm 21 now and didn't actually finish for the first time until i was like 18ish if that makes you feel better. I didn't understand my anatomy at all and every guy I'd been with till I met my bf didn't either so it was just a lot of missed opportunity.

Also: adding a cut bc this is LONGGGGG

I feel like explaining you've never gotten off to either of these guys would be like flipping a switch in their brain. Wdym you've never gotten off??? They'd make it a whole ordeal to change that.

Nicky would be "softer" about it, and I put that in quotes bc he's by no means a softie lmao he's a closet freak that just hides it well until the right moment. He's gonna take such good care of you :((

Nicky spends damn near a whole hour on foreplay itself, there's not an inch of your body that goes untouched. He wants you so needy you're shaking underneath him before he even touches you where you really need it. He'd kiss up and down your thighs and his fingers would dig into your hips a bit to drag you closer to his face so he can bury it in your pussy. He'll spend hours here if you let him he doesn't mind, he drags your hands up to his hair so you can pull him around however you need too cause he knows what he's doing but your input is important.

Honestly, he doesn't even care if he gets to cum tonight at all, he's doing this all for you. If eating you out isn't enough he'll work his fingers into you at the same time or offer to use a couple toys if that's better. He just wants you to feel good and he'll do anything to get there. Nicky only stops when he has another idea and that's to fuck you with a vibrator pressed right against your clit. He'd hand it to you so you could control the speed and pressure while he focused on fucking himself into you. If you can't seem to get it right he's more than happy to do it for you again and if the vibrator just isn't your thing dw babe he'll use his fingers.

The whole time he's talking you through it and praising you for doing such a good job for him. Once he can tell you're actually getting close he's practically high on it. He tries his best to not change his pace so you can ride out the feeling as long as you'd like but God once he feels you cumming around his cock he's rutting into you like a fucking animal and can't help himself.

"Fuck baby, that's it- shit- you're doing so good for me, it's okay- you're okay, feels good doesn't it?"

Matt on the other hand is an entirely different creature and when he hears you've never cum before he doesn't have the same "patience" Nicky does. He's more than happy to help you get off, but where Nicky spends hours bringing you to the edge, Matt is dragging you to it by your throat and forcing you off.

Matt wants you all fuzzy brained and subspaced for him during this whole thing cause he's gonna be taking care of you, you don't need to do any thinking. All you need to remember is his name.

I could for sure see him dragging you onto his lap in front of a big floor length mirror so he can show you everything he's doing. Your legs are spread on either side of his and he has one of those app controlled vibrators inside you (only taking it out when he wants to fill you up with his cock instead). The idea of watching yourself get off is embarrassing but fuck you're so wet it doesn't really matter at this point, Matt's fingers feel too good to worry about anything else. He has one hand spreading you wide and the other is switching from fingering you and scissoring you open to rubbing your clit and spreading your wetness around. His legs are keeping yours open even when yours squeeze against his and threaten to close.

You're literally dripping down his hand and wrist by the time he decides to fuck you, and he's not changing his stance from earlier, you're still in front of the mirror. He still ends up doing all the work and he's more than happy to though, picking you up and slamming you down on his cock until you were whimpering and crying. Your shoulder and neck are totally littered with bite marks and hickeys from him as well.

When he can tell you're getting close to that edge he hilts himself entirely inside you and wraps a hand around your throat to keep you steady while the other one abuses your clit. Youre twitching in his hold and nearly sobbing by this point cause it feels like an electric current is running under your skin until that coil in your belly unwinds and you yelp and cry in his arms while you cum around his dick. His pace slows on your clit but doesn't stop, he's trying to draw it out as much as he can for you before he lifts you off his cock to change positions.

[anzulvr]

hii could i please request a little hurt/comfort drabble where reader feels sad during christmas season but forces herself to at least pretend to be happy because karma’s birthday is on christmas day :( but karma notices how her smile doesn’t meet her eyes and stuff and asks reader about it!

Summary: You’re sad on Christmas, Karma x reader (except it’s his birthday.) hurt/comfort GN!reader HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM

(this is so cute I LOVE THIS REQUEST thank u! Had this in my drafts for a while but waited for Christmas to post)

It had been two years since everything ended. Two years since Korosensei died and all of End class were labeled as victims with some weird-Stockholm attachment to the monster who blew up the moon.

It was strange, seeing everyone care about you when you didn’t need it and remembering how low they thought of you when you were only the reject class of kunugigaoka.

A lot happened in two years, not a long time but considering how quickly everything was moving you hadn’t had time to catch up. Like any special day Christmas wasn’t a good time anymore- something your classmates agreed on. With the impact Korosensei had on your lives it was impossible to celebrate anything without wondering what would have been if you managed to save him. That was only wishful thinking, you couldn’t change the past.

Regardless, today you tried to keep a smile on your face. It was the most important time of the year, Karmas birthday- and Christmas too.

You stared at your poor attempt to decorate the cake you baked with Karma, the frosting written birthday note was almost illegible.

“What’s with the look, you’re writing isn’t that bad.”

You looked up after hearing Karmas voice as if you were pulled out of a trance.

“What look? I know it’s not that bad I was admiring our hard work.”

“More like my hard work, you kept dropping everything! Seriously though, what’s wrong? The whole day I’ve been catching you teary eyed.”

You turned your back to the counter to face him as you set the frosting bag down “I’m fine, today’s your day I’m not going to bother you with my problems. You should enjoy everything to its fullest.”

“I’m not going to enjoy anything if you’re not happy, ‘m not budging tell me why you’re upset.”

Karma was stubborn, you knew him well enough to realized this wasn’t negotiable.

“I don’t know… I was just thinking about how Korosensei can’t spend Christmas with us, and he can’t be here for your birthday. Ever since we killed him, Ive felt so helpless? Like we never did enough.”

He nodded slowly breaking eye contact for a second, “my parents haven’t answered my call today, they’re in Italy right now, all I got was a text saying they were busy and that they’d talk later. I know they haven’t forgotten, it’s kind of impossible when it’s Christmas but still- I hoped they would have time for me today, I know they have more important things to do but It made me think about how Korosensei would’ve been here.”

you nodded in response, “They could still call the days not over… and if they don’t they’ll try to make it up to you…” You could bet they wouldn’t call until the next day but you wanted to reassure him, there wasn’t a lot you could say in this situation that would make him feel better.

“It’s fine, you’re here- and you’re the best company, I had fun today. I just meant Korosensei has done a lot for us he’s proud we pulled that off, he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.”

“I know you’re right, still I wish I could’ve done more, we should’ve tried harder to save him.”

“We did what we had to. I miss him too, there’s a lot of things I could never repay Korosensei for—”

“Like getting you through senioritis? Or always bringing money in his wallet even though he knew you’d steal it?”

“I meant setting us up together, but sure those were good too.” Karma smiles breaking tenseness of the conversation for moment, “at the time I thought he was being a hassle but without him im not sure id have you right now.”

Suddenly you felt shy laughing it off and covering your face for a moment while you composed yourself, “Yeah he did push for us a lot but I was obsessed with you far before we even ended up in 3-E so you would’ve had me regardless.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.”

“No way in hell, I don’t trust you to not make fun of me. Anyways I didn’t mean to bring up something depressing, we should be smearing cake all over your face right now.”

“Try all you want but it isn’t possible to mess up my face.”

“Wanna bet?” You shake the smile off your face.

“See that’s more I like it, we can enjoy our ugly cake now. And more importantly you can open your gift.”

“What do you mean my gift? It’s your birthday you’re not supposed to buy me stuff!”

“It’s also Christmas … I couldn’t help myself I really wanted to get you something.”

“But now I’m worried my gift won’t live up to yours!”

“[Name] you could give me rocks for all I care and I’d keep them in a safe with multiple locks.”

You gently shoved his shoulder suppressing your laughter, you leaned in to kiss him.

It was impossible to not feel better with him around. This morning you had woken up wishing time could stop for a moment and you ended the day hoping for the same thing but for a completely different reason.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS WOOO!! its been a little over a year since ive found your writting, how time flies T-T Could you possibly write a platonic gojo & reader oneshot where its just snippets of Gojo's first year teaching and the reader is a 1st year student not part of jujutsu society? I'd prefer if the mc had a somewhat introverted personality while being grumpy bc of being forced to attend the school. U can change their behaviour to what u feel more comfortable writing if u want tho!!

── THE SCHOLAR

Synopsis: A short snippet of how Satoru Gojo convinces you to be his first student in full.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo & Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Content Warnings: not many tbh…reader is a d1 hater of gojo and ino ig?? also just a hater in general LMAO she does NOT want to be there

A/N: wow anon i can’t believe it’s been a year since you found my account and that you’ve stuck around for so long, that means a lot to me!! i apologize for how long this took me and how short it is 😫 it was a bit difficult for me to write gojo as a teacher without feeling like i was just rehashing his dynamic w a previous y/n i’ve written 😓 but i hope this is somewhat close to what you wanted?? also idk if you’ve read my fic pomegranate ink or not but i did throw in a reference to it at one point so props to anyone who catches that hehe

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You weren’t really sure what cause your classmate had to be as pleased as he was, but for some reason, the boy was bouncing in his seat, scribbling down notes with the fervor of a scholar — though you were quite certain that he was nothing of the sort, at least not when his test scores were taken into consideration. 

“Hey,” you whispered, tossing an eraser at his head when your teacher’s back was turned. “Ino. What’s the big deal? We’re not even learning anything yet, so what are you writing down?”

“Are you kidding me? Gojo just told us an entire story of his past. That’s valuable information!” Ino said. You frowned at him.

“It’s not valuable information, because he’s so prone to embellishment that he’s all but an author at this point. Besides, do you think you, or anyone else for that matter, will ever face seven first grades and come out the winner, without even a scratch?” you said.

“He’s the strongest sorcerer in the world, though, so it’s feasible for him,” Ino said.

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Maybe for him, but not for anyone else. This is just bragging under the guise of an educational opportunity. We’re never going to be powerful enough to replicate such a feat, so what’s the use in wasting our time talking about it?”

“You’re such a spoil-sport,” Ino huffed. “We’re the first students to ever get to learn from Satoru Gojo, and somehow, you’re complaining about it? That’s ridiculous no matter what way you put it!”

“Is everything okay?” 

Both you and Ino jumped as Satoru Gojo appeared in front of your desks, peering down at you over the lenses of his dark glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed that you were talking while he was ‘teaching’; in fact, he looked excited, as if he wanted to join in the conversation as well. You could imagine him pulling up a chair and resting his chin in his hands as he gossiped with you, and it made you scoff.

“Everything’s fine. We were just wondering when you were actually going to start the lesson,” you said.

“She was wondering that!” Ino rushed to clarify. You shot him a dirty look out of the corner of your eye, which he ignored — you supposed loyalty didn’t mean much to him, as you two weren’t really friends and therefore couldn’t inspire much loyalty in one another regardless. “I was telling her how fascinated I am by the story you were telling!”

“Suck-up,” you hissed.

“Stupid,” he hissed back. Gojo clapped his hands, returning to the front of the classroom with a distinctly unacademic swagger to his step that made you internally fume.

“No worries, we’re just getting to that part! Today, we’ll go over some basic curse theory,” he said, drawing simplistic shapes on the chalkboard to accompany his explanations. As usual, Ino was absorbed by the standard bullshit Gojo spouted, but you found it to be so boring that you actually began to nod off, catching up on the sleep you had missed last night due to a mission which had run later than expected.

Unlike Ino, who had been automatically enrolled in the school because of his family lineage, you had been scouted as a fresh talent by Satoru Gojo himself. It had been a long conversation, and he had only managed to convince you in the end by telling you all about Kaito Hinode, the well-regarded first year teacher who you would study under. Hinode was a sorcerer you believed you wouldn’t have trouble respecting, and so you begrudgingly agreed to attend the school and give the whole notion of ‘jujutsu sorcery’ a shot.

Then Hinode retired, mere weeks before you were set to begin at the school, and his replacement was revealed to be none other than that irreverent, inept, and decidedly unserious man who you had secretly hoped you would not see much more of: Satoru Gojo.

You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in active duty, but the theoretical side of it interested you to an almost unhealthy extent. You spent days upon days studying the workings of curses and cursed energy, to the point that you could be considered almost an expert. That was the only thing cheering you about coming to the school, that you’d get to discuss with individuals on your level, and so it had been such a heartbreaking disappointment when Gojo, who cared little about the causes and more about the results, was the only proper sorcerer you came into frequent contact with.

The other teachers didn’t have time to entertain your pestering, far too busy with their own students, which meant that Gojo was really your only option. And of course you had tried — really, you had. You had presented him with your questions and ideas, but he had only made a face and told you that studying curse theory to this extent wouldn’t help anyone, and least of all yourself.

He wanted you to learn how to fight, but you didn’t care for that. You didn’t want to fight. If you could spend the rest of your days shut away in a study, reading your books and taking notes on them, then you’d be quite content. You were reluctant to go on missions, even if you were ten times better than your peers, and you often dragged your feet heading into your practical classes. More than once, Ino had had to hoist you over his shoulders and sprint to the training field so that you were not both late, and you knew that you probably shouldn’t be so harsh on him given that, but because it meant that you had to exert yourself on the battlefield instead of rereading your favorite essays, his good intentions only made you resent him more.

“You know, you could really be a great sorcerer,” Gojo said to you one day. You were sitting on a bench while Ino did exercises, ink smudging your hand as you meticulously annotated a book that the principal had given to you. You blinked up at him, amazed once again at how tall he was. He blocked out the sunlight, his shadow looming over you in a way that would’ve been ominous if he wasn’t so typically harmless.

“Hm?” you said, returning to your book when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything of importance. “Sure, I guess I could be.”

“Becoming a first grade isn’t an impossibility for you. It’s something attainable, which is incredibly rare for someone as young as you,” he continued.

“Right,” you said.

“Do you care about that, though?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I have no interest in being a first grade sorcerer. It just means more dangerous missions, doesn’t it? I don’t care about all of that.”

“It also means a higher salary,” he said.

“Probably not high enough to make up for the risks,” you said.

“Well, it’s pretty high, though only you can decide if it makes up for the risks or not,” he said.

“Listen, sir, I’m only even here because you told me I could further my studies with people renowned in their fields. Do you mind telling me what field you’re renowned in? Because for some unfathomable reason, you’ve ended up as my teacher,” you said.

“I’m…the strongest sorcerer? In the world?” he said, though the way he phrased it made it seem like he was asking you instead of telling. You shrugged.

“That’s an intrinsic talent. You didn’t learn to be that way; you were just born with it. Sure, you had to practice, but practicing and studying are different. Anyways, even if you are the strongest soldier, I think we’ve established that that’s not something I’m interested in. I was supposed to be under the tutelage of wise and experienced professors, but instead, I’m being instructed by you, who’s barely even a few years my elder and has never taught before,” you said, closing your book and holding it to your chest, smiling tightly at him. “I’m staying here because my parents already paid the tuition fee, but I’m not happy about it. Just so you know.”

“If you’re a first grade sorcerer, you also get more access to information,” he said after a moment. “Stuff behind a million clearances that only people of a sufficiently high rank get access to.”

You froze, your eyes brightening at the thought of this forbidden knowledge. You already knew that you were missing several key pieces in your preliminary research, but no matter how hard you looked, you had never been able to find the answers to the seemingly obvious questions. Was this why? Was it really because you did not have the seniority to warrant the understanding?

“Is that truly the case?” you said.

“I can’t help you in terms of books and learning and all of that boring stuff,” he said. “But if you put in a bit more effort, I can turn you into someone that the higher ups listen to, instead of the other way around.”

You mulled this over before nodding, standing up and leaving your book on the bench.

“Okay. I’ll do as you tell me to, but like I said earlier, I’m not going to be happy about it,” he said.

“Who cares? You can be the gloomiest girl alive!” he said, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Let’s work together, Y/N!”

“I’m your student,” you reminded him. “Not your friend.” 

He waved you off. “You’re old enough to be both. Now let’s get to training!”

It was horrible, being Gojo’s favorite student. For one, Ino was jealous — although soon enough he found another mentor to cotton on to, and then your relationship with him mended into something a little more cordial and polite. For another, Gojo had this strange penchant for throwing you into impossible situations and watching in glee as you struggled to get out of them.

His missions also tended to be errands disguised as pressing matters. Once, he made you run around Tokyo, stopping in various stores so that you could improve your conditioning — stores which just so happened to carry the items on his week’s grocery list. Another time, you single-handedly had to exorcise every single curse harassing a nearby bakery — a bakery which just so happened to carry a specialty flavor of cake that was his new favorite. Whenever you complained about the silly chores, he asked if the exercise had made you stronger or not. You would begrudgingly admit that it had, and then he’d tell you that you should just think of it as a win-win scenario and stop whining.

“Y/N!” That was how it always began: he would shout your name as he entered the classroom, usually accompanying it with a wad of paper or some other, similarly harmless object sent flying your way. You’d catch it in one hand and glare at him.

“What?” This would prompt him to explain his ridiculous plan for the day, after which he would turn to Ino and hand him his assignments. He had gotten special permission from the school to train you in this non-orthodox manner, given that you were so far ahead in any material that giving you homework would be redundant and a waste of time for all parties involved. For his part, Ino did not complain, for he had long ago lost interest in training with Gojo, who was admittedly terrible at actually explaining anything of note.

You made a good pair, you and Gojo, or at least as good of a pair as could be made given the circumstances. As the year went on, you grew more and more familiar with the reasoning behind his atypical style, and though you would never cease to complain, it was more lighthearted, a habit instead of a genuine gripe.

“You’ll be promoted any day now,” Gojo told you on the last day of your first year — the last day that he would be your director supervisor. “They’re waiting for you to grow a bit older, but it’s maturity you lack, not talent. If you participate in the Exchange Event next year, you’ll get the recommendations you need without a problem.”

“If?” you said, picking up on what he had left unsaid. “Isn’t it mandatory? Why wouldn’t I participate?”

“It’s mandatory if you’re living on campus, yes,” he said.

“And what cause would I have to not be living on campus?” you said.

“You’re interested in curse theory, aren’t you?” he said. When you nodded, he sighed. “Still? I was hoping you’d have moved on by now…well, I can get an alternate course of study approved for you by the principal, if you want.”

“An alternate course? What would that entail?” you said.

“One of my fellow special grade sorcerers, Yuki Tsukumo, specializes in researching the exact types of things you find so fascinating. If she agrees to it, then you could serve as an assistant of sorts to her. It’ll be like an internship or something. She won’t let you slack off — it’ll be much worse than anything I put you through, that’s for certain — but if that’s the path you want to take, then it’s an option,” he said.

You had never loved him quite as much as you did in that moment. Without even taking a moment to think about it, you nodded enthusiastically, beaming at him.

“Yes! Yes, Gojo, sir, that would be ideal. I’ve read some of the proposals Tsukumo’s submitted to the higher ups, and oh, if I got to work with her, it would be such a dream,” you said.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “She still has to agree to it.”

“Do you think she’ll say no?” you said.

“Maybe at first,” he said. “After she meets you, though? No way. You’re my pupil, after all. You’ll be the most impressive student she’s ever taken under her wing — and I can attest to the fact that you’ll be far and away the most dedicated.”

You supposed you had some things to thank him for, then. The corners of your lips twitched as you bowed your head at him, causing him to grunt in confusion; after all, you had never shown him such deference before.

“You’re not that bad as a teacher,” you said. “You know, for it being your first time, I think you did alright.”

“Yeah?” he said eagerly before composing himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Yeah, I guess you turned out just fine.”

“Thank you for everything, Gojo,” you said. “Please know that you’ll always have an ally in me.”

His black sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, just a bit, but enough that you could see the way his eyes softened ever so slightly. Then he reached out and socked you in the arm affectionately.

“Considering how often I butt heads with the higher ups, I might call upon you one day,” he said. “Don’t make that kind of promise lightly, is what I’m saying.”

“I’m not making it lightly,” you said. “If you call upon me, I’ll come. That’s what you do for someone who’s changed your life, right?”

Even the shades he had shoved back into position could not hide the breadth of his smile nor the depth of his fondness. He nodded, slowly at first and then quickly, like he wanted you to be very sure of his agreement.

“True,” he said, and then he patted you on the head. “Guess that means you can call on me whenever you want, too. I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder as you left for the summer and thought that you might never be so fortunate — or unfortunate — as to have a teacher quite like him again.

[kcch-ns]

OOPS! WRONG PHOTO - denki kaminari

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - denki kaminari x afab!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - aged up!!!!! pls no pedos yall😭, lowk cliffhanger, ALSO please bear with me this is SO short

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - what happens when you accidentally send your classmate nudes and he sends them back?

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 - i’ve never written a ff before so don’t judge me if this is bad😭 all inspiration goes to @sup-hoes-its-me

you groan again as you erase all the work you just did again. god, who knew being a hero meant you had to learn math. you glance between your phone and worksheet, contemplating if anyone would be willing to help you this late at night.

after a few minutes of just sitting there, looking at that device that displayed 2:29 am, you picked it up. opening your messages app and looking through people who could be awake right now.

kirishima? hmm, he’s probably not awake, he’s been training all day with bakugo. you thought to yourself.

deku? he could be awake but apparently he has a long day with all might tomorrow so i should just let him rest.

kaminari! he’s not doing anything i know of tomorrow and he’s pretty smart.

i clicked on his contact and sent him a quick text, hopefully he’s awake.

—

texts below

i stared at the text with wide eyes. holy shit holy shit holy shit. i shook my hands off before texting back a quick ‘yes yes yes😇’.

i stood up and walked over to my bed falling face first onto it. are we studying or is he coming here for more? mayb-

my thought got cut off as i heard a knock on my door. i groaned slightly before i got up and opened the door just to peek my head through.

‘hi’ i said meekly, avoiding looking into his eyes. i could see him smirking through my peripheral vision.

‘hey there!’ he says, inviting himself in and dropping his backpack on my bed. ‘so which homework question did you really need help with?’ he says as he glances as my desk that had papers scattered over it.

‘uhh.. well i was a bit confused on question 4’ i said, walking over to my desk and sitting down, him following behind me and leaning his head over my shoulder.

‘oh this one’s easy peasy, so basically…-‘ he trailed on about some random math stuff as i just sat there completely zoned out.

i mean, could you blame me? the guy i just accidentally sent a tit pic to is right next to me helping me with math homework.

‘…you got that, right?’ he said, turning his head to look at me. i looked to my right and my eyes widened. when did we get this close to eachother??

‘uhh yeah totally’ i lied. hopefully ill figure it out myself soon enough because i honestly did not listen to a thing he said.

he smirked as he noticed my flushed face. ‘so do i get my reward now?’ he said to me, tilting his head a bit.

‘reward? for what’ i said feigning confusion.

‘come onnn, angel. i’d think i deserve something in return for helping you.’ he said, moving even more closer to my face then before.

ummm..what the hell am i supposed to do. should i kiss him? yeah yeah totally. wait no ive never kissed someone before ill mess it up. ugh whatever yolo.

i looked down at his lips, hopefully they’re not chapped, then it’d be really awkward. i leaned in slowly and placed my lips onto his, feeling the slight peach fuzz on his upper lip.

i felt his hand on the side of my face as his thumb rubbed my cheek bone. i pulled away due to the lack of air i got before and during the kiss.

‘i’ve never really done..anything.. before..’ i said, looking down.

‘what, you need me to teach you that as-well?’ he said, squeezing my cheeks together and forcing my head up to look at him.

i nodded slowly while looking directly into his eyes. nervous for what’s to come as i see a devilish grin make its way onto his face.

a/n: guysss please drop some constructive criticism, i understand my writing is definitely..something! so i appreciate all the help i can get! also i apologize for how SHORT this is, it’s 3 am and my brain is not working properly

[actualbird]

HI!!! i wanted to ask ur opinion on how the nxx boys sneeze 😭 it was a hilarious thought because i was trying to sleep when suddenly i heard my dad make the loudest, most disruptive sneeze ever and i thought "thats so funny lol WAIT what if the tot boys sneezed".

i generally think the tot boys would be more "a-chooooo...." rather than a nuclear explosion but i need ur opinion. HOW WOULD THEY SNEEZE!!??

scream omfg i love this ask and i remember i actually talked about this with @samsspambox once forever ago so, without further ado

how the nxx boys sneeze

vyn: sneezes normal but my god he's super sensitive to allergies and, most of all, Pollen. which is hell, given that he loves to garden. but his easy workaround is just to wear a mask, and that usually saves him when hes working on his own garden. but come Pollen Season, and all the plants and trees spewing particles into the air, and hes a nose-clogged sneezy mess. his students know that when it's pollen season to not piss him off because he will be so cranky from all the sneezing and also the horrid feeling of only having one nostril unobstructed

artem: sneezes the Loud Dad Sneeze. he is the disruptive sneezer, the nuclear explosion. he is sneezing like how a lion roars deeply to establish its territory lines, except artem isnt a literal lion and does not do this on purpose. his sneezes are LOUD. the type of loud that makes people want to ask artem if hes okay afterwards cuz it's so loud it seemed like it dislodged a rib or something. it's immensely comical, given artem's usual quiet nature, that his sneezes are a force of nature. he could sneeze in his office and people all the way over in the pantry would hear it. he is, and i cannot stress this enough, so fucking embarrassed about it.

marius: the sneeze that keeps wanting to happen but Doesnt happen. you know, the cliffhanger sneeze, the sneezes that are like "ah...aaAAAHH...AAAAAAAHH—" and then the resulting "choo" doesnt happen. and this Not Happening just Keeps Happening. it's agonizing. marius will start a sneeze at 9:55am but the Conclusion Of The Sneeze only happens by 10:03am, once hes already in a meeting with the board of directors. how unsightly, he KNOWS, but the worst part really is the sheer anticipation. what marius would GIVE to have a normal sneeze.

luke: the tiniest kitten sneeze on the planet, and always 6 times consecutively in a row MINIMUM. back during the NSB Days(TM), the fearsome Agent Raven arrived at the training class he handles with a slight cold, saying he'll just monitor and teach and give pointers while socially distanced. the trainees were so scared cuz "wow, hes still coming in even when hes sick, how TERRIFYINGLY DEDICATED, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVEN." and then luke steps back and grabs a piece of tissue, obviously rearing for a sneeze, and the trainees thought "oh i bet his sneeze is the Loud Disruptive one, just like his own scary fighting skills, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVE—" and then

it's the smallest, cutest sneeze. one after the other. and another. and another. it was like hearing a squeaky dog toy get squeezed several times vigorously. it was like how you'd assume a pixie sneezes. it was like the sound sprinkles and pink bubbles would make if those could sneeze.

once luke is done with his consecutive sneezes (that, for the life of him, he could not stop) he promptly death-glares at the trainees and they all agree to Never Bring It Up.

but the consecutive kitten sneezes still follow luke through his life and all the way up to, yep, the nxx team being able to witness it

mc: awww, it's been so long since ive seen your cute sneeze!!

luke, nose clogged: it's [sneeze] not cute! [sneeze]

marius: it's so cute, i think my heart is melting

luke: shut [sneeze] up!

marius: AAAWWW, is the big bad agent having some twouble? >:3

luke: dont you f[sneeze]ucking patronize [sneeze] me!

mc: do you need more tissue?

luke: PLE[sneeze]ASE

[lily-alphonse]

Alex/Shane rarepair sporty boys bromance🙏

OH IVE GOTTA MAKE THIS ONE ANGSTY. Implied past child abuse as well. If it was to become a full fic it would have a happy ending though.

I like that they are on opposite ends of fulfilling their dreams. Shane is kind of the ghost of Alex's future ain't he?

Oooo wait okay lets take the headcanon from the SamAlex fic and have Alex returning from college after being forced to drop out due to poor grades.

Alex has been away for two years, becoming an entirely different person. He was a star athlete with a hot (albeit on and off again) boyfriend. He felt more like himself than ever before... and then it all came crashing down.

When he comes back to town, its like stepping into old shoes that don't fit anymore. He doesn't feel safe to be himself and shuts down. He puts on an act of the person he used to be. Cocky. Macho. He pretends nothing affects him and he has it all figured out.

Shane looks even rougher than when he last saw him. Worse than reminding him of where his future might be headed, he reminds him of his dad. Drinking all the time. So angry. Who would put him in charge of a kid? He's kind of worried for Jas. He’s glad she has Marnie at least. Marnie’s always been nice.

It’s night. Shane is leaving the saloon, Alex is outside sitting with Dusty. He watches Shane with contempt in his eyes, and Shane won’t stand for it anymore. He feels him watching, spins around and snaps at him.

“You got a fucking problem or something?”

Alex stands up slowly, a silent reminder of the pure mass Shane is up against. Maybe a fight could be good for him. Let off some steam. But he gives Shane a chance to back down.

“Walk away, Shane.”

He, unsurprisingly, does the opposite. He comes closer. “No. I haven’t done anything to you, so what's your fucking issue?"

The alcohol on his breath causes a long-buried fear to spike in Alex and it has him clenching his fists at his sides. He wills himself not to tremble. Not now. Not now. He feels cornered, readying to swing at him when Shane's next words catch him off guard.

"Why are you here, Alex?" Shane sounds older. More tired. His bleary eyes don't miss the look in Alex's. There's something he recognizes there.

But now Alex is terrified for a different reason. He's so tired of keeping this wall up that he's actually tempted to be honest with him. His defenses are crumbling around him as part of him thinks that Shane would understand better than anyone...

His mind balks at the thought, since that would mean they were in any way similar. So he turns it around on him, throwing a mirror up between them as his last defense.

“What are YOU doing here Shane? What happened to you, you’re a fucking mess.”

Shane rolls his eyes, waving him off as he backs away again. “Yeah, yeah, piss on the town drunk. It’s all been said and done, asshole.”

“No,” Alex says firmly, following him, corralling him back against Dusty's fence, “you started this.” He won't let him back out of this now. For some reason he can't let this conversation die. It's real and it's painful and he craves it.

Shane folds his arms and scoffs. “Technically you started it by glaring at me all the time.”

Alex grinds his teeth. "It'll get even worse for you if you even think about harming Jas."

Shane's eyes widen with fire, arms slowly moving to his sides again. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Alex steps closer, looking down on Shane now. "You heard me."

"I would NEVER hurt her you fucking--"

Shane moves to push him but Alex pushes him back harder, but the show of protectiveness for Jas seems to flip a switch in him because he doesn't want to hurt Shane.

He kisses him.

Eeeehehehe I hope this one gets enough reblogs to be included in the poll bc it'd be interesting

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[ender-cloud]

That new TGS update made me physically ill holy shit! Spoilers under cut

I feel like we all knew that this would happen but I wasn’t actually ready for it, Like god Lanyon you truly were screwed over

THIS MADE ME LIKE AGAHBAGWGAVEVS!!!

Also after this the “I wanted to be the person you needed me to be” makes me just feel so agshabaggas JEKYLLLL!!! It broke my heart and im still not ok.

Even after jekyll admitted it was him Lanyon still wanted to find an excuse how it couldn’t be at first and it’s just like, Lanyon! You can’t be doing this to me man!

Also, just, Jekyll saying that Hyde was a mistake is a punch to the gut, because i get how he can think that but Hyde is still like a part of Jekyll he separated from himself! Does he think that part of himself was a mistake? Or does he think that ever separating Hyde from him was a mistake? Because these two things can have very different meanings.

If he thinks that part of himself was a mistake: he hates a part of himself that he cant control which is something a lot of people experience but its still not ideal, But its also Fucked up, Because Hyde has become his own person and Jekyll is acting like he Dosent exist, like Hyde can’t hear all of this

But on the other hand if he thinks it was a mistake separating Hyde from himself might mean that he can see that maybe it would be better if he still had that part with him and this shows his growth from who he used to be. Finally realizing that it still makes him, him, again something some people need to overcome in real life.

Though it is most likely the first option but i can only hope its the second

I know that Lanyon’s reaction is probably the most important but I really want to see Jaspers and Rachels reactions too because we havent even gotten a glimpse of them in the background and it’s just heightening my curiosity, because Rachel was close to both of them so she’s the one im most interested in after Lanyon.

ANYWAY! BACK TO THE PAIN!!!

Im going to be honest i think Lanyon is valid for this because yes it has been 2 years and He and Jekyll have been friends for long enough to where you would have this trust base relationship.

Also they just got together romantically which would fuck up Lanyons mind even more. Like way to go Jekyll breaking the foundation of trust in a relationship in your first day of being in one. I can see how he might feel like his feelings are being played with, Hyde would avoid him, and ive been mentioning this so often but like if someone you thought was your friend and they had an Alter ego that avoided you wouldnt you be hurt?

I feel like im shitting on Jekyll a lot, and I don’t mean to because I like Jekyll!! Dont get me wrong!!! But you have to admit that it is his fault, he’s not always the victim, its the people around him who’s being affected by his actions. It was Jekyll’s choice to continue to drink the potion, it was Jekyll’s choice not to tell Lanyon, there was no outside force making him do this.

And you can’t say that Hyde was making him continue to drink the potion because for 1; i doubt that in the beginning Hyde would be able to bother him that much only starting out, im sure it was another thing that developed over time with the potions use and 2; as we saw Jekyll could’ve thrown away those potions on his own terms at any time, he didn’t have to make more.

I just wanted to make this known because i feel like it needs to, do i like Jekyll? Yes. Do i feel bad for him? Yes. Do i think he’s the victim in the situation? No, because of the reasons above. But really, I don’t hate Jekyll, and its not like its always his fault, no, but in this situation it was his actions that lead to this.

I got really sidetracked so heres some of the other images i saved because this is getting really long.

Them both crying Makes this so much worse like, these two almost never show their emotions around people, and now in front of everyone they are about to breakdown, it just makes my chest tight, God dammit Sage this Chapter was painful

[hanashii]

thinking abt aun no beats because it's on global now and ive been waiting for so long but its time for a rant again

i am sosososo normal about them btw. if you didn't know!

akito's "why do i want to be loved" and toya's "why do i want to love", when akito is the one who openly expresses his feelings and toya is the one who barely shows any

akito who is known for being so hard on himself because he always pushes himself to become better and is rarely ever happy for himself + immediately shuts down any sense of pride he might have for himself "why do i want to be loved" & toya who was forced into classical music at a very young age and when he finally broke free and wanted to do his own thing his family hated him and he only found solace and a sense of resolve through meeting akito and owes everything to him "why do i want to love"

this line being a direct reference to the vbs main story where toya didn't want to be partners with akito anymore because he believed that he wasn't worthy enough of a partner to be with akito he believed he had the weakest resolve and determination among all of them and that akito deserved people/partners were actually as determined as he was, like an and kohane

the line directly after that "never needed to look for the words" because after that happened akito managed to confront toya but he didn't convince him or anything he just helped toya realize that he has the same resolve he (akito) does and that he's just being hard on himself akito's confrontation where he tells him he's good enough and that he wouldn't think of teaming up with anyone but toya

.

toya needing to hear those words from akito himself because he wouldn't have believed anyone else if he heard those words from them

i am so sososososo normal about them. they make me go INSANE. I HATE THEM ALSKHLKAEHLBRSG (AFFECTIONATE)

[pjoxreader]

hey! so i read the 'what if reader betrays them' and was thinking it really seems like reader was forced to do this, so thats what im here for. id like to request a pt 2 with percy, annabeth, and leo, where reader dies, and says "ive always loved, since the beginning, before i had to do this, i never meant to play with your heart. make sure this doesnt happen to anyone else... i love you..." or something along the lines of this, so it just really angsty and also like "im about to kill whoever made you do this" and just like how they reacted to that! thanks, sorry if its too long!

Reader Betrays Them Part 2

((I hope you enjoy! It gets very angsty and a bit graphic so be ready for that!))

TW: Death, Gore

Percy Jackson

-You stopped before you could cut him down, falling to your knees. You made it this far yet you couldn’t go through with it. Now you put your family was in danger and you couldn’t help the tears streaming down your face.

-”I failed… I’m so sorry… Mom…” you choke out voice cracking. Percy is at your side in seconds holding you close in a hug. You missed the warmth of his arms so you choke back a sob and hug him close.

-For just those few seconds you forgot you were in the midst of war. Half-bloods fighting one another, blood staining the once colorful flower field. That’s when you see it. Someone raising a spear to throw into Percy’s back.

-Your body moves on its own, forcing Percy to flip over with you. Then you feel it. A sharp pain, a warmth and then… Then a burning ache. Your voice catches in your throat as the pain was so bad you couldn’t even form a scream coughing up blood. 

-You could see the look of utter horror in Percy’s eyes, a shaky smile forming on your face as you take a bloodied hand to his cheek to try and soothe him. Despite your own pain there was nothing worse than seeing the agony on Percy’s face. ”I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Percy I’ve always loved you…” you manage to choke out spitting up some blood.

-”No… No save your strength, you can tell me everything once you get better.” Percy was shaking, digging through his pack to find nectar or anything to help you. You gently take his hand. “My family… Please… Please protect them… Stop… The monster from… Hurting anyone else.” you plead. Your final request. Percy grits his teeth hard enough you worry they’d break but does nod. You smile in relief knowing Percy wouldn’t fail and with that you close your eyes content with the life you lived, hearing Percy scream in rage as you fade away.

Annabeth Chase

-You were just another traitor. You knew that. Just another person who had managed to hurt Annabeth… You didn’t have a choice. If you helped this monster it swore it’d spare Annabeth. That’s all you cared about.

-The two of you had sparred plenty of time before this, but this was different. The rage and anger in her eyes mixed with subtle tears. It hurt. Your heart felt like it was splitting in two. “Why! Why do you have to betray me too!?” She demands from you, voice quivering. 

-You try to say something to explain yourself in some way, but seeing an arrow flying towards her your body moves on its own. Capturing her in a tight hug. This surprises her as she tries to shove you back “W-What are you doing!?” she demands shoving you back.

-It was painful, it felt like someone had stabbed you with a hot knife but it felt worse when Annabeth shoved you away. You stumble back falling onto your ass and cough up some blood. You could see Annabeth’s gears turning in her head before she understands what happens paling and going to your side.

-You can’t help but laugh at that. You had been trying for years to surprise Annabeth and it never once worked. Now it has. “I… I could never stay mad at you Annabeth…” you say shakily feeling poison spreading through your blood like a hot fever. You could feel yourself getting dizzy and weak as Annabeth makes you lean against her trying to check the wound. “Why… Why would you do this!?” She demands tears streaming down her face.

-You shakily reach up using the last of your energy to rub her tears away. “For you… They swore… They’d spare you… If… if I joined them…” you manage to choke out. “I’m sorry… For doubting your strength.. But… But you were too important to me.” your words were getting weaker as you felt your body shake with chills. “I love you…” you manage to choke out with a wheeze. Annabeth gently rests her forehead against yours and as your vision fades away you could hear her faintly say “I love you too.”.

Leo Valdez

-Leo was smart and brave. You always knew that, but seeing his anger and frustration turned on you hurt. He threw fireballs at you, so you quickly dodge moving in to close the distance between you two. You were at a severe disadvantage with his range. He stops your advances by setting the grass and flowers in front of you on fire.

-You wouldn’t be able to get close to him, there’s no way. But then he does something you don’t expect. He jumps through the fire pinning you to the ground, he stops the flames that had crawled its way up his body by forcing himself to take deep breaths. “Why… Tell me why you did this!” he pleads with you, his voice cracking slightly at the end. 

-The pain in his eyes is enough to make you crack, not being able to stop the tears that stream down your face. “Because I love you Leo.” you manage to choke out. The look of utter confusion was clear on his face, but before you could explain you watch as one of Leo’s explosions go off near you both. 

-You didn’t hesitate to flip Leo over and shield him with your body as you see green flames burst and die around you. You let out a weak cry of pain feeling your back light up in pain and then it was gone. You could feel the area around the burn arching like a lit torch was being held to it, it must have burned through your nerves. “No! No!” You hear Leo scream checking your back.  -You could see the color fade from his face as he goes ghostly pale and that’s when you knew. “I’m sorry…” you choke out realizing that you may never get the chance to tell him everything. You force yourself to focus all your energy into talking. “No, no, save your energy. I’ll get some ambrosia!” Leo tries but you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

-”Just… Listen.” you plead with him, weakly taking his hand. He takes a shaky breath and nods, holding your hand instead rubbing gentle circles on your palm. “I’ve always loved you… Ever… Ever since you talked to me at camp… They… They put me under a curse… If… If I didn’t help them… I would be forced to kill you..” you manage to explain. You could feel the coolness of Leo’s tears against your hand which was a starch contrast to the burning in your back. “I love you too… I… I could never stop loving you…” You could feel your vision blur as you give a weak smile seeing Leo on fire with a roar of anguish. Your last thought being of how his flames make him look like a shining star.

~Masterlist & Rules~

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