#also Breath of The Wild's storm gods HATE me

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

hate sex. rafe or drew idc, u have total creative freedom w my suggestion!

Hate Sex

Pairing - Drew Starkey x costar!reader

Summary - good old hate sex.

Warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering, language, choking, name calling. 18+

The anger bubbled in your chest, rising up your neck leaving behind a dark pink tinge to your skin. You had never let Drew get to you this bad before, you were pulling at the roots of your hair just thinking about his punchable but good looking face.

“Breath Y/n” your friend stated, she had hidden herself behind the very small table in your trailer. She was quite frightened when you let your anger out.

She jumped halfway into the air when you threw your phone at the floor, shattering the screen in the process.

“Now look what that fucker has made me do!” You all but screeched, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go and speak to him, how DARE he talk about you like that in an interview.

“Oh no no no, you can’t go speaking to him when you're this angry! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Your friend shouted, slamming her palm over her mouth when she realized what she let slip.

“How could you side with him?!”

“Oh come off it y/n, he said lovely things about you!”

“All very untrue things! He made me look like some weak girl who was falling at his knees.. no you know what I’m leaving!”

Before your friend could stop you, you darted out the trailer door and sprinted for him. Exactly 23 steps later your fist pounded at his trailer, you didn’t wait for him to answer and stormed in.

Drew stood in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lower half, steam filling the very small shower. Both Chase and Austin sat on the couch staring at you with wide eyes, the sound of the PlayStation in the background echoed through the deafening silence from the four of you.

“What’s up y/n?” Drew sang, giving you his famous boy next door grin. You just wanted to rip his face off but also kiss his face off.

“How dare you?!” You yelled, Drew’s eyes creased together in the middle as he looked at you in confusion. “Want to enlighten me on what I’ve done now sweetcheeks?” He chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door. Your eyes dropped for only a moment when a bead of water ran down his chest and dissolved into the towel.

He gave you a knowing look that you shook off. “What’s all that shit you said in the interview?” You questioned, he let out a throaty laugh. Almost a cackle. This had you wild, you stormed towards him with curled fists at your side. “Don’t laugh! You made me out to be some weak girl, talking about how I’m the main person who laughs at your jokes on set, that I always get emotional at old couples!” You shouted, the old couple remark was true.

You did get emotional BUT that didn’t give him the right to tell people, it’s your personal life, personality. They get what they get, they don’t need to know the deeper version of you.

“Y/n, Come on. I wasn’t doing it out of spite” he stated, he was frustrated now. You always jump on him the second you can, yelling down his throat and making him feel like everything he does is wrong. “I honestly don’t give a shit! Don’t talk about me in interviews again!”

He rolled his eyes and looked over your shoulder at your friends, they had both gotten up ready to bounce. They hated being around when the two of you fought.

“Don’t roll your eyes! God! Drew you're so frustrating!”

“Me?! Me, frustrating? You talk some shit y/n, your always down my throat”

“Because you're always being so difficult!”

“Maybe you should lighten up a little and realize I’m a decent human being and your just angry at the world”

“Fuck you Drew”

“No, fuck you”

It happens in a split second, you're both reaching for each other. Your lips hastily press together, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands cup your jaw, your tongues fight with one another. Even kissing, you have to be fighting.

“That’s our que” you heard from behind you, but you didn’t want to pull away. One of his hands drops from your face, grasping onto your waist he pulls you closer to his body.

“You're still annoying” you breathe, his lips trail down your neck. Sucking at the flesh between your collarbone and throat. Your nails scratched down the length of his back leaving deep red lines.

“You're still a bitch” he bit, pushing you towards the couch. Your back met the cushion with a thump, his body trailed behind closely. Parting your legs so he could slot between them.

You had forgotten he was only in a towel, which now parted giving you the most glorious view of his thick hard cock. “Shit” you whined, practically forcing his body down on yours. His hands bunched up your dress to expose your cotton thong, his cock nudged at your pussy.

“How can someone so annoying be blessed with such a perfect cock” you spoke, his chuckle was muffled by the skin of your chest.

“How can someone so frustrating be so fucking hot” he commented, his mouth left kisses along the apex of your chest. You pushed yourself to sit up, pulling the material of your dress over your head.

You now sat in just your panties, his hands palming at your breasts. “Fuck you” you moaned, his teeth pulling your hardened nub. Suckling at your nipple, while the other hand grabbed your ass cheek. “I’m getting their baby” he whispered, the pet name sending shivers down your spine.

“Touch me”.

His fingers dipped under the material of your panties, sliding his pointer and forefinger between your fold and back up to your clit. “Oh shit, yeah like that” you cried, grinding your pussy into his hand. Slipping his two fingers into your cunt, you bite down on his shoulder as he finger fucked you. Pressing the palm of his hand into your clit at the same time, sending your body into overdrive. “You like that? Of course the little bitch likes to be fingerbanged hm? Been thinking about these fingers inside of you huh?” He grunted, brows creased in the middle. He watched your face intently, the way your mouth dropped opened and you gasped for more breath.

“Answer me!”

“YES yes oh fuck yes! Wanted these fingers in me since I met you” you screamed, his dick twitching at your statement. Your moans bounced off the wall and you were sure everyone could hear.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, a slur of protest fell from your lips. “What the fuck Drew?!”.

“Get up and sit on my cock, quit whining and do what I say for once you little slut”.

The vulgarity to his words had your insides fluttering like a damn school girl, pulling your panties down and straddling his hips.

Reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock, giving him a rough few tugs. “Fuck… what I’d do to have your pretty little mouth around my cock right now.” He groaned, his head arched against the backrest of the couch. You began to slide off him, his hands catching your hips before you could get on your knees.

“Right now I want your tight little cunt to sit on my cock, next time I’ll stuff your throat with my cock and make you eat the angry words that you constantly spit out”.

Your ears pricked up at the next part, unbothered by the way he spoke to you. “Fuck you Drew” you spat, his large hand held the base of his cock for you. The tip of his bright pink head nudged at your opening, you took him in painfully slow. Your eyes rolling back as his cock stretched you wide, your hands pressed against his chest for leverage. “Oh-h… oh” you cried, his cock buried deep within your walls.

He gives you a moment to adjust, eyes staring hard at your expressions. The moment your eyes reopened he was bringing your body up and down on him harshly, causing a string of curse words to slip from your mouth.

Your tits bounced in his face, you finally brought yourself out of the sex daze you had fallen into and moved your hips, grinding against him roughly.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his throat, his eyes were wild. Dark and full of lust, watching you gnaw at your lip. “That’s it pretty girl, fuck my cock like its best goddamn cock you’ve ever had”.

Your nodding your head in agreement, “the best fucking cock, so big” you cried, unaware you had just agreed to him. You were so drunk on dick, you had forgotten how much he irritated you.

“That’s right, best goddamn cock you’ve had. Show me how much you love it” he ordered, and you obliged. Riding him like your life depended on it, throwing your head back. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, his fingers grabbing your waist tightly.

“Fuck! Just like that!” He groaned, his hands caressed your back. Ducking his head to envelope your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes yes yes” you mumbled, your bodies had a light sheen of sweat to it. “Move” he order, pulling you up from his cock only to spin you around. Pushing your knees into the cushion of the couch and thrusting his cock back into you.

“SHIT!” You cried, clawing at the back of the couch. His large hand pushed you down against the couch, putting one of his legs into the couch to give himself a better angle to fuck into you. “Yeah you like it rough huh”.

The angle of his cock had you in tears, overwhelming pleasure coursed through you. “Of course you like it rough, you’re a dirty angry slut” He could feel you where close, the way your pussy walls fluttered around him, reaching around to grasp your neck and pulling out of you. “DREW! You asshole” you cried, the pleasure that had building in your lower stomach fizzled out only to reignite when his fingers closed around your neck.

“Jump”

You did as order and wrapped your legs around him, he slipped his cock back into you. Moving you both just enough so your bum sat against the bench, ruthlessly he fucked into you. Squeezing his finger around your throat, your own hand coming around to grip his wrist, you screamed and cried in pleasure.

“You dirty little slut! Who knew you were more than just a whining bitch” he spat, pressing his lips to yours before you could fight back. Your fingers scratched up and down his back, the only way you could tell him he was an asshole.

“Drew” you warned, your pussy walls pulsating around his cock and you chased your high. “You're gonna come? Go on then pretty girl, come around my cock” he urges.

His hips move faster and deeper, dropping his finger between you to fondle your clit.

“Holy shit! Oh o-oh!” You cried, letting the overwhelming pleasure knock you over. Curling your toes and tightening your legs around him, your pussy pulsated around his cock. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders trying to ground yourself.

He wrapped her arm around your waist tightly and followed suit, coming deep inside of you. “Fuck fuck fucking hell”.

His sweaty forehead met your chest, both your breathing labored. A few moments of silent breaths go by and he pulls away from you, helping you down from the bench.

“This doesn’t mean I suddenly like you” you comment, stepping around him to collect your dress. Rushing into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

A few moments and words to yourself go by and you open the bathroom door; eyes searching the floor for your panties.

“Looking for these?” He questioned as you stepped out, holding onto your thong with his finger like a prize.

“Fuck you”

“Just did”

Taglist - @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @jjmaybankisbae

[elysiaheaven]

Hi! I love your writing! I don’t know if you’re accepting requests but if you are could you do Ronin with a person who has little care for their safety? If you could put some hurt/comfort I would love that! I hope you Have amazing day/night and also if you don’t want to do this that is totally fine!

Ronin’s used to chaos, recklessness, and flirting with death—but when you take it too far, even his patience starts to crack. To him, it’s one thing to risk it all when you have a plan, but watching you carelessly walk into harm’s way? It feels like he’s losing control—and that terrifies him in ways he won’t easily admit. He loves you, and if there’s one thing Ronin hates more than boredom, it’s the thought of you slipping through his fingers into danger

The first time you brush off an injury—be it from a careless accident or something serious—Ronin tries to laugh it off. "You’re a real piece of work, huh? You think you’re invincible or just trying to give me a heart attack?"

But the more it happens, the more his frustration builds. You keep treating your safety like it doesn’t matter, and it eats at him because you matter to him. He hates the way it makes his stomach twist. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to end up in a body bag?"

The moment you stumble through the door, blood trickling from a wound or holding yourself awkwardly from some fall, Ronin’s world narrows. All the jokes vanish from his face. "Don’t say a word." He’s already grabbing a first aid kit or calling someone—angry, but his hands are steady.

His touch is firm but careful as he patches you up, pressing just hard enough to make you hiss. "Hurts, doesn’t it? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before throwing yourself into traffic, yeah?" But there’s fear laced beneath the sarcasm—he’s barely holding it together.

Once you’re bandaged, the anger fades into exhaustion. He drags you to the couch or bed, plopping down next to you and forcing you to lie still. "You don’t get to move, got it? Not until I say."

His arm snakes around you, pulling you close. It’s not just for you—it’s for him too. He needs to feel you breathing, solid and alive beneath him. He buries his face in your hair, mumbling, "If you pull that stunt again, I swear to God…" But his voice cracks ever so slightly.

Ronin starts paying closer attention to the little things—how fast you walk, the situations you throw yourself into, even the way you talk about danger so nonchalantly. He hates the way it makes his skin crawl. "You're reckless, babe, but I'm not about to let you get yourself killed."

If you refuse to take care of yourself, he’ll do it for you. He makes sure you eat, sleep, and wear proper gear when it matters—even if he has to play it off as a joke. "Yeah, yeah. You can hate me all you want. But at least you'll still be alive to do it."

One day, the recklessness catches up to you—maybe it’s a bad fall or an injury that scares even you. You’re lying there, pain flooding your senses, and for once, you can’t make light of it. That’s when Ronin snaps. "See? This is what I’ve been talking about! Goddammit, Y/N, I—" He stops himself, teeth clenched. It hurts him more than you realize.

But he doesn’t leave you. He scoops you into his arms, cradling you close as if holding you together will keep the world from breaking apart. "You scared me, dumbass. Don’t ever do that to me again."

Ronin doesn’t say much after the storm passes—words aren’t really his thing. Instead, he stays close, always touching you in some way. A hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist—anything to remind both of you that you’re still here.

On bad days, when the guilt sinks in and you feel like you’ve disappointed him, he notices. He tilts your chin up with a smirk. "Listen, you're mine, okay? That means no dying without my permission." There’s a flicker of genuine affection in his voice, soft and sharp all at once.

Ronin knows he can’t force you to change overnight. You’re a storm, wild and untamed—and part of him loves you for that. But he’ll drag you, kicking and screaming, into finding a little balance. "If you’re gonna be a daredevil, at least let me be there to catch you, yeah?"

In return, you learn to take a few precautions—not for yourself, but for him. Because if there’s one thing you know, it’s that Ronin needs you just as much as you need him.

Ronin’s love is chaotic, controlling, and just a little suffocating. But beneath the snark and obsession lies a fierce need to keep you alive—because, without you, he’d fall apart. "You’ve made it this far, babe. You’re not getting rid of me that easy."

And when you finally start to care a little more about your own safety—not just for yourself, but for him—he knows that, in his own twisted way, he’s won. Because you’re still here, and as long as you are, that’s all that matters.

[girlwithletters]

Another one is coming

Párosítás: Jude Bellingham x olvasó / te vagy aki akarod

It was cool in the living room, except for some embers flickering in the fireplace. Jude Bellingham still couldn't bring himself to put wood on the fire, even though the woodcutter was only an arm's length away. Even if he was locked in the hottest pot of hell, it wouldn't have warmed his soaked, ice-cold body. His head was heavy with wine and his body was empty without the heart and soul left in his home.

- Jude - Vinicius Jr. couldn't even get his friend's full attention with his voice.

- What? - muttered Jude in displeasure, looking at the empty bottle in the left hand of the ever-smiling Brazilian.

- When this cursed storm subsides somewhat, I will accompany you back to your wife. But until then, all we can do is wait.

- I don `t want to wait! - Even when he was drenched in water, in clothes that clung to his muscular, lean body, he radiated uncontrollable wildness. Pressing his lips together, he raised his head, a tension flared up in his brown eyes. - To hell with you! - He threw the towel in his hand to the other end of the room.

Even the monotonous hum of the television was drowned out by the sound of the approaching storm, lightning strikes shook the windows of the house.

The teammates also felt the same restlessness as Vini's dog. His body, covered with brown-black fur, trembled with nervousness, his breathing wavered along with his owner's heartbeat. Joy flashed in his yellow eyes as he heard the increasingly loud click of shoes approaching him and smelled the familiar scent of human flesh covered by wet clothes.

But Jude had other plans.

As he ran out into the yard, his foot slipped on the wet stones, but he managed to reach his impatient friend who was stumbling next to the car without injury. How embarrassing it would have been if one or two wet pebbles caused the loss of the fearless soccer player, the adored prince of Real Madrid.

Tchouaméni was the lucky one who managed to get the lock key , to take the driver's seat and start the car. When all four of them took their seats, the wheels of the car sped up and pebbles flew. Trent buckled his seat belt at the last minute.

The wind picked up, and the rain falling from the gloomy black clouds became as opaque as the densely woven curtains on the door of their bedroom balcony.

Jude's mouth twitched nervously, his chin tensed, his stomach clenched, his heart clenched by some unknown foreboding.

- Let's hurry! - His voice was only a faint whisper, like the gliding of a butterfly's wings in the colors of the rainbow, but the person to whom spoke to him, still understood.

If they had been walking in the rain around this time, if a ship steered by brave sailors had come up against the waves crashing on high, he would have seen a vision dressed in the light of yellow-red lightnings on the road shrouded in darkness, he would have thought only: Those are the gods!

- It's almost over - I would have liked to wrap my fingers around the balding doctor's thick neck and squeeze him until the last breath, until the last thought left him. How the hell can you say that! It's easy for him!

Laura, Antonio Rüdiger's wife, took my hand. I squeezed hers.

"I know you'd rather kill him," he grinned at me. I admit, as much as I hated Laura in the past, I have grown to like her in the last six months. In her worried eyes, I saw my shattered reflection, my face distorted from the pain of childbirth, my hair stuck to my pale skin wet from sweat.

- I'm ugly!

- You're beautiful! - he pressed a soothing kiss on my forehead. I was very tired. I would have preferred to close my eyes and sleep a little. A few minutes or a few hours.

- Does it always take this long?

- Not always. Every woman is different - said the nurse from the side, holding a wet cloth.

- I hate him! I hate Jude! - I squeezed out the words between my teeth. A sharp pain ripped through my body, spasming my muscles. - When he returns home, I will cut off his tail and feed it to the dog!

The two women laughed and said almost simultaneously:

- Believe us, you would later curse yourself for your earlier words.

Another contraction almost snapped my spine in half. I felt like my bones were falling apart.

- Please do something! I can not stand! - Laura gently, with slow movements, ran her hand several times along my enlarged, tense belly. She gathered her brown hair, which had previously covered her shoulders, pinned it up and looked at me with an encouraging smile.

- Get ready! They will arrive soon.

- I'll kill you anyway! - The pains were getting stronger, I cringed from the pain. I turned here and there, twisted, and buried my head in the pillow that had become a fighter. It was somehow easier with my eyes closed.

- Press it! - Laura said. - Press it! As before...

- To hell with you, Jude Bellingham! I hate you! - As if I had been hit with whiplash, the pains came more and more frequently and densely. - I will never spread my legs to you again!

- My beauty, don't make irresponsible statements - I heard the familiar chuckle next to my head. I got it towards his hand.

- You are here, in time - My palm slid into his ice-cold palm.

- Yes my love. As I promised. Now push, doe! It's time for the little dragons to arrive!

I barely had any strength, but somehow I managed to push.

It was like a lock on a door. However, when the lock was opened, my body felt so light.

- You did it, my love! - My beloved soccer player bowed his head to my forehead with eyes glistening with tears, then with a bright smile on his face, he took over from the doctor his son, William, who has black hair. The blonde girl, Denise, who arrived a few minutes after her brother, was wrapped in a warm, soft piece of fabric by Laura.

- They are so perfect! - I stretched out my hand towards them, when a strong pain ripped through my lower abdomen like a whiplash, then galloped along my back and thighs. I felt nauseous. - I need to throw up - I moaned.

- What's happening? - Fear ran down Jude's spine.

- My goodness! - the doctor wearing foggy glasses leaned over to me. - Another one is coming!

( english isn't my first language ) - just the usual

sorry for the mistakes

[aressida]

My Dream: "Of Arrows, Shadows, and a Father's Gift." - Aressida. 26.9.24.

When I was having these flashbacks about my dad, the memories felt vivid, like they were alive in me again. He passed down his gifts, his skills, especially as I learned the art of the arrow.

There was something deeply philosophical about archery. Each time I draw the string, it was like drawing back into myself, finding that inner stillness. The arrow flies true when the archer lets go of distractions and the pull of the world.

In that moment, as I blinked back to reality, I found myself reminiscing on everything, feeling the weight of it all, then pulling myself back from the world of shadows. A world that has always tried to claim me, tried to pull me into its depths. Yet, here I stand, a lawful rebel, bound to no man here on earth. I bow to no system, no authority other than God.

My father… he understood that. He hated the police, hated any form of oppressive power, because he knew their ways. He saw through their masks. Being in the Mafia, he understood the undercurrent of power, the manipulation. But despite it all, he protected us. He died protecting me, and that has haunted me for so long growing up, not knowing what my father knew.

But now, now I see. His truth is clear in my vision. He saw the world as it truly was, saw the same dark forces I have been fighting, the NWO, the secret agendas, the puppeteers pulling at society’s strings. The very same that I have become a rebel against.

I have also thought of my great-grandfather, who was a Master Mason. The ties to Freemasonry run through my bloodline. I now see how their spells, their dark rituals, have clung to this family for generations, binding us to something unholy. But Christ, Christ has given me the authority to break those chains. I have renounced, rebuked, and shattered every curse that has clung to this bloodline. Intergenerational trauma ends with me. I walk in His grace, eternally grateful for the blessing of this divine protection.

My father’s words still echo in my mind. In that moment, as a pathfinder in every sense, I knew Christ, the way, the truth, and the life, was guiding me. The Holy Spirit was with me as I followed the path He had set before me.

I have put on the full armour of God, and though I have not picked up my bow in months, I feel the weight of it in my hands as if it never left me. When the time comes, I will return to the fight.

Before I learned civility as a young girl, my cries were wild and untamed because I could see, even then, how cruel this world could be. I had to learn to hold the line, to wait until Evil struck the first blow. I had to be ready.

And now, holding fast to this Light that anchors my soul, I draw my bow, feeling the night descend as the stars break through the shadows. I stand with nothing but my arrows and steadfast faith. This is not a pride born of vanity, but a righteous fire, pure and cleansing, the divine light of Christ that cuts through even the fiercest storm.

The arrow, silvery and true, flies straight into the heart of the shadow, cutting through the chaos. It is a promise, a promise that life, even amidst the battles we face, can still go on. Hope, you see, is stronger than fear. I have walked through the fire, felt its searing heat, and endured its attempts to break me. But through faith, I have breathed past that fear, standing firm, born to fulfill the purpose God has set for me, ready to make history in His name.

And in this moment, clarity envelops me like a divine blessing, illuminating my thoughts and guiding my heart. The fog of uncertainty lifts, revealing the path ahead, and a smile spreads across my face, radiant with purpose. I feel an undeniable assurance rising within me, the kind that only comes from knowing I am aligned with God’s will. I am ready, resolute in my mission, prepared to embrace the challenges that lie ahead, and confident that with Christ by my side, I will walk boldly into the fray.

[creatediana]

When Gilgamesh the king came back to the city after the victory over the demon Huwawa,

he washed the filth of battle from his hair and washed the filth of battle from his body,

put on new clothes, a clean robe and a cloak tied with a sash, and cleaned and polished the weapons

that had been bloodied with the hateful blood of the demon Huwawa, guardian of the forest,

and put a tiara on his shining hair, so that he looked as beautiful as a bridegroom.

The goddess Ishtar saw him and fell in love with the beauty of Gilgamesh and longed for his body.

"Be my lover, be my husband," she spoke and said. "Give me the seed of your body, give me your semen;

plant your seed in the body of Ishtar. Abundance will follow, riches beyond the telling:

a chariot of lapis lazuli and brass and ivory, with golden wheels,

and pulled, instead of mules, by storm beasts harnessed. Enter our house: from floor and doorpost breathes

the odor of cedar; the floor kisses your feet. Your doe goats give you triplets, your ewes also;

your chariot steeds and oxen beyond compare." Gilgamesh answered and said: "What could I offer

the queen of love in return, who lacks nothing at all? Balm for the body? The food and drink of the gods?

I have nothing to give to her who lacks nothing at all. You are the door through which the cold gets in.

You are the fire that goes out. You are the pitch that sticks to the hands of the one who carries the bucket.

You are the house that falls down. You are the shoe that pinches the foot of the wearer. The ill-made wall

that buckles when time has gone by. The leaky waterskin soaking the waterskin carrier.

Who were your lovers and bridegrooms? Tammuz the slain, whose festival wailing is heard, year after year,

under your sign. He was the first who suffered. The lovely shepherd bird whom Ishtar loved,

whose wing you broke and now wing-broken cries, lost in the darkness on the forest floor.

'My wing is broken, broken is my wing.' The lion whom you loved, strongest of beasts,

the mightiest of the forest, who fell into the calamity of the pits, the bewildering

contrivances of the goddess, seven times seven. You broke the great wild horse and snaffled him:

he drinks the water his hobbled hooves have muddied. The goatherd who brought you cakes and daily for you

slaughtered a kid, you turned him into a wolf chased away by the herdsmen, whose hairy flanks,

smelly and mangy, the guardian dogs snap at. You loved Ishullanu, your father's gardener,

who brought you figs and dates to adorn your table. You looked at him and showed yourself to him

and said: 'Now, touch me where you dare not, touch me here, touch me where you want to, touch me here.'

He said: 'Why should I eat the rotten food, having been taught to eat the wholesome food?

Why should I sin and be cursed and why should I live where the cold wind blows through the reeds upon the outcast?'

Some say the goddess turned him into a frog among the reeds, with haunted frog voice chanting,

beseeching what he no longer knows he longs for; some say into a mole whose blind foot pushes

over and over again against the loam in the dark of the tunnel, baffled and silent, forever.

And you would do with me as you did with them."

The Epic of Gilgamesh translated by David Ferry, 1992

[waltwhitmansbeard]

my fair lady: chapter thirteen

you know the drill, read these first. also recommend that you read this bonus drabble in case you missed it. obligatory @romeoandjulietyouwish tag!

As an only child and a princess to boot, Keyleth grew up with the run of the castle back in Zephrah, neither needing nor caring to ask permission from going wherever she pleased. Vax tries not to laugh as he watches her start to claw at the walls, pacing tight, annoyed circles in her chambers, sighing as she stares out the window down at the beautiful gardens she's been asked not to wander. When he gently suggests they go visit her father for dinner, she takes the out with relief.

(He takes the out as well; what acute torture it is, to be alone with her, by order of the sovereign no less, and to have to stay so far from her, to keep his hands by his side and not on her face, her waist, tangled in her hair. She paces like a caged animal, and his own wild instinct is to smash the windows and set her free, but here he stands, a man of honor and duty and not at all a feral beast, eyes following her like the rabbit watches the fox's approach, until he, too, feels the need to scratch at the door, just to breathe air that doesn't smell maddeningly of her.)

It's strange now, walking in step behind her with someone else. This Derrig fellow seems nice enough, wears his new station with pride, but until Vax sees him in action, he's not going to trust him to be enough to keep Keyleth safe. They're just walking down a set of corridors in the Ashari wing, but Vax can tell by the relaxing of her shoulders that Keyleth is already less tense. She wasn't built for this, enclosed spaces and thick marble walls. She was made for the wind, for crisp autumn airs and raging summer storms, a cherry blossom in perpetual motion.

They reach the sovereign's chambers, and just as Keyleth is walking inside, Vax on her heels, he hears a familiar voice call his name. He doesn't have to look to see who it is—he knows her voice better than his own, hears it chastise him in his head whenever he takes his most sinful liberties with the princess—but he does anyway, and there she is, his sister, bounding down the hall toward him. He hesitates, knowing his orders to follow Keyleth everywhere, but there's a hand on his arm. Keyleth smiles at him. "Go to her. I'll be alright with Derrig and my father's guards."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He ducks his head in a bow and spins to charge toward his sister. He hears the door close after Keyleth and Derrig just as he scoops her up in his arms, breathing in the scent of their little cottage and the air from Zephrah. He holds her as tight as he dares, both unimaginably grateful that she is here with him and desperate for her to leave this place of death and horror.

"Vax, oh gods, you're alive," she's babbling in his ear. She pulls out of his grip to put her hands on his face, inspecting him closely. "The sovereign told me you were injured on the journey here, and then yesterday's attack—are you alright? Have you seen a healer? Do you need—"

He shuts her up by hugging her again. "I am fine, Vex'ahlia, alive and well, I promise. You don't need to worry so much."

"I worry because you charge headfirst toward death as if your life isn't precious to me," Vex argues back. "I worry about what you'll throw it away for."

Vax gives her a look, and she gives him one right back. There's a small room off to the side, one typically reserved for storing extra linens and supplies. Vax grabs his sister by the arm and tugs her inside, preferring to have this out behind closed doors. He crosses his arms and waits.

Vex has never been good with silences. He watches her fingers start to twitch, and it takes only fifteen seconds before she breaks down. "This is ridiculous. You know I hate this. You, so ready and eager to lay down your life for some princess who would have you replaced without a second thought. You matter, Vax'ildan, and I am tired of you pretending that you exist to die for someone else!"

He blinks slowly, keeping his smile easy and placid. "Are you done?"

She crosses her arms to match his and huffs, "Yes."

He leans forward and kisses his sister's forehead, which immediately takes the wind out of her sails. "You are the very best sister, did you know that?"

"Don't patronize me," she grumbles.

"I'm not. Any man should be so lucky as to have someone who cares for him half as much as you do me." He grabs her hands and squeezes them. "Please do not think that I live to die. My life is not so bleak! I hope to live for a long time with you by my side. But, yes, I have a duty, to my sovereign and to K—to the princess." Her eyes flare at his slip. "A duty not too dissimilar from yours. Do you think I don't worry about you, Captain of the Royal Guard? Do you think I don't have nightmares of you atop the castle walls with an arrow in your neck?"

"It's not the same." She pauses. "Of course, it is not only for your life that I worry, but your heart as well." She gives him a gentle but pointed look.

He frowns. "Now's not the time to be talking about my heart, Vex'ahlia."

"You're with her every day. That's not conducive to the healing process."

He doesn't tell her that he's not interested in healing. He doesn't tell her that the ache is the only thing that lets him know that he's alive, that the razor-edge of her proximity—too close but by the gods, never close enough—is a promise he's keeping to himself: if she has to suffer for his carelessness, then he will suffer twice as much for twice as long. "I love you, my dear sister, but I am telling you to let it go."

"I'm not going to let it go," she insists, but Vax can hear the surrender in her voice. She sighs. "Well, I suppose I should tell you that your suspicions about the attack yesterday were correct."

"What do you mean?"

"I was with Percy and the others when Pike interrogated several of the attackers' corpses." She makes a face. "That is some weird fucking magic, by the way. Talking corpses? This is why I don't pray. Anyway, Percy told me that you noticed that the Ashari were being targeted, and the attackers themselves confirmed this."

Vax grips her hands tightly. "What have you learned?"

"They were hired mercenaries, told to wreak havoc on the evening. Chaos was the point, but they were also told to aim for those in Ashari dress when they could."

"Who hired them?"

Vex shrugs. "They didn't know. They received their orders from an intermediary. They also didn't know why they were hired, just what they were supposed to carry out here."

"But what of Keyleth? She was taken and they nearly absconded with her from the citadel grounds."

"Apparently different mercenaries received different instructions. None of the ones Pike spoke with were instructed to do anything with Princess Keyleth."

Vax rolls his eyes at her emphasis and ignores the implication. "This is important information, sister. Thank you for telling me."

"Of course." She punches his shoulder. "I am glad you're alright. Even if you are an idiot."

"Yes, but it is my idiocy that you love most."

"Well, it's certainly not your face."

"My face is your face, Vex'ahlia, we are practically identical."

"Please, you wish you were this pretty."

And what can he do but laugh, as he wraps his twin sister up in another hug. He knows how selfish has been, in so many ways and with so many people, and Vex'ahlia, as petty and self-interested as she can be, loves him anyway, forgives him for all the ways he could ruin her life. He doesn't deserve her love, but by the gods he is grateful for it anyway.

.

Despite his young age, Percy has accomplished a good number of things for which he is quite proud. The invention of his unique weapon, for one, which has most impressed the sovereign, as well as his spearheading a campaign to improve the functionality and design of Zephrah's many windmills. He has had one-on-one meetings with the sovereign about the Ashari Nation's technological future more times than he can count and has presented his proposals and findings in front of the full court of the land, and yet nothing has ever made him quite so nervous as this meeting between the Ashari and the Draconians, held in a neutral space in the castle and monitored by a bevy of Syngornian guards to keep the peace. He's joined by Ladies Allura and Kima, and they are meeting in a small dining room with three dragonborn representatives of Draconia. In the roughly twenty-four hours since the attack on the Emerald Citadel took place, no evidence has been found to suggest that either previously warring nation authorized the slaughter, but the trios on either side of the table regard the other with suspicion all the same, determined not to be caught unawares in what very well might be an elaborate trap.

Lady Allura is the first to speak. "Thank you for joining us. Our gracious Syngornian hosts are still investigating this horrific attack on their home, and we do not want to rush the fact-finding process, but in the meantime, Sovereign Korrin would like us to...take the temperature, so to speak, of King Kruvanis and of Draconia as a whole. We have obviously spent many weeks here discussing and negotiating the terms of our still-unsigned peace treaty, and we are loath to let that hard work go to waste if we do learn that neither side is at fault for what happened yesterday."

The blue dragonborn sitting in the center narrows her eyes. Percy believes her to be Draconia's defense minister. "You ask us to meet about a peace when we have no reason to believe you weren't behind yesterday's slaughter?"

Kima rolls her eyes. "How can you possibly imagine we were responsible for that? The Ashari bodies outnumber the Draconian and Syngornian bodies three to one. We're still trying to identify all of our dead! You're lucky we're even willing to speak with you right now since obviously Draconia is more likely to be behind all of that death."

The three Draconians bristle, but Allura quickly cuts in. "What Lady Kima is trying to say is that until answers are found, we have little reason to trust or not trust each other. It behooves all of us to proceed as if the peace accords are still agreed upon until we have motive to behave otherwise."

The defense minister ignore Allura's words, instead spitting at Kima, "What a better way to cloak an attack on Draconia's most important representatives than to murder your own to cover your tracks! We lost several of our highest-ranking court members, including the king's own brother!"

Percy slams his fist on the table. "The sovereign's only child was dragged from this citadel and nearly shoved in a getaway vehicle before being stabbed with a poison blade! She is lucky to be alive right now!"

"But she is alive! Curious how lucky she is!"

Percy is seething. To suggest that the Ashari would be behind such a deadly affair is an insult the likes of which he could never have imagined. Percy might have lost some respect for the sovereign when he agreed to marry Keyleth off to King Kruvanis's braggart of a son, but he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never put Keyleth's life so acutely at risk. From his peripheral, he can see Kima, ever the firecracker, itching to launch herself across the table and attack the defense minister.

Allura extends her hands in a gesture of peacekeeping. "Please, these accusations get us nowhere. The purpose of this meeting was not to lay the blame for this tragedy at any nation's feet, but to discuss the status of the already agreed-upon peace treaty. Are we to take from your words that King Kruvanis is not prepared to honor this treaty if we are to learn that neither of our nations is responsible?"

The red dragonborn to the defense minister's left, whom Percy has never seen before, speaks up. "Our king is not ready to make any promises until the investigation into the matter has concluded. We do not negotiate with potential terrorists."

The defense minister stands from the table, and the other two quickly follow suit. "If this was the sum total of things you wished to discuss, then I believe this meeting has concluded. We would prefer not to say anything further without the express permission of our king." Without another word, the trio files out, leaving Percy and the others in stunned silence.

Allura sinks back in her seat. "Well, that went brilliantly."

"By the Dragon, I miss being at war with those fuckers," Kima grumbles.

"Do we suppose that Kruvanis ordered the attack because he wasn't happy with the terms of the accord?" Percy asks.

Kima snorts. "I can't imagine. They got some good shit in that deal. They'd be stupid to sacrifice it all in favor of continuing some war they weren't likely to win."

Allura sighs. "I suppose we should go inform the sovereign of our fruitful conversation." She pushes herself up from the table.

"You two go on," Percy says. "I'll fill the princess in on our...stalled negotiations."

Allura nods. "Very well." She and Kima exit, leaving Percy and the ring of Syngornian guards, who begin exchanging uncertain looks as Percy sits at the table, absentmindedly cleaning his glasses with the hem of his doublet. He may have been the one to ask the question, but Percy just can't shake the feeling that the Draconians were not behind the attack on the peace ball. He'd read over the terms of the treaty dozens of times, and Kima was right to say that Draconia benefited greatly from them, perhaps even more so than the Ashari Nation. But they are clearly not as convinced of the Ashari's innocence as he is of theirs, given their unwillingness to discuss the treaty without more answers. He can't imagine how they could think that the Ashari would benefit from the loss of so many lives of their own.

Percy pauses, brow furrowing. Benefit. Who benefited from yesterday's attack? Not the Ashari, that's for sure, and from the sound of things, neither did the Draconians. It was Syngorn's own home that was invaded, so he cannot believe that the High Warden ordered the assault. Someone somewhere got what something they wanted from the bloodshed, and figuring out what that something is is the key to finding the perpetrator. Percy pushes his glasses back onto his face and stands, striding out past the citadel guards straight toward Keyleth's chambers.

[feyhunter78]

Six Times Helaena and Jacaerys were Soulmates (4/7)

Description: Heleana Hightower is being shipped across the sea to marry an old man she detests. Her company includes the ship's crew, her journal, and the voice in her head that is either her soulmate or a sign she's going mad. Also, this is what inspired the Pirate AU, so if you notice similarities, that's why!

Helaena hates boats, hates the sea, and hates her grandsire for selling her like a broodmare. She clings to the side of the ship, heaving her lunch into the churning waves below. She’d already been on this godsforsaken boat for two weeks now, and still could not find her sea legs.

There’s a storm coming. That voice in her head says, she’d heard it since she was a child, it grew with her, changing from the high-pitched and joyful tone of a young boy to the steady deep tones of a man.

She looks to the sky but sees no darkened clouds. She shook her head, fearing she was going mad from the sea air. Seagulls flew overhead, and she focused on their graceful soaring, closing her eyes as she tried to settle her stomach. The ship doctor had advised her that closing her eyes would only make the seasickness worse, but the only time the rocking of the ship didn’t send her towards the railing was when she slept.

She made her way back to her cabin and took out her journal, scribbling down the words she’d heard. Her mother thought perhaps they were the words of her soulmate, but no matter how hard Helaena tried, she could not communicate with the voice. She chalked it up to an overactive imagination and tried to forget him—it.

After setting down her quill, she flipped through the pages, the very first phrase she could remember was from when she turned ten and one, I wish mother was here. The voice had said. She shook it off, she often wished her mother was by her side, feeling comfort in the woman’s presence.

Why hasn’t Luc tightened down the cargo yet? Another thought, this was odd. She rarely heard the voice more than once a day. Except for that one night.

Her cheeks heated up, and she pressed her cool palms to them. She’d been trying to sleep the night before she left Oldtown, and was plagued with his voice, jumbled words of praise and heated moans filled her head, shooting heat through her, and making her clench her thighs together involuntarily. When she finally did succumb to sleep her dreams had been something out of a romance novel one of the maids had secreted to her.

She was settled atop a man, his face blurry in that dreamlike way that wasn’t frightening, but still obscured her vision. Her body was bare, her palms pressed against his heaving chest. His head was thrown back, and his hands squeezed her hips.

“Faster, oh gods, please.” He whimpered, the sound sending a rush of heat through her.

She said something, she couldn’t make out what, and the man groaned, his hands snaking up to toy with her breasts, skilled fingers making her breath catch in her throat.

“Perfect, you feel perfect.” He moaned, rising up to crash his lips to hers, his hands threading in her hair.

Helaena had never been kissed before, not like this. She melts into him, tasting cinnamon on his tongue. His hands leave her hair and reclaim her hips, lifting her up before what she assumes is his member pierces her once more. Pleasure filling her all the way to her toes, which curl in anticipation as he swiftly thrusts up into her once more. His lips mark a trail down to her breasts where his tongue captures on one of her pink peaks and circles it before suckling, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

“Come for me, sweet girl.” He all but begs, as her hips move in ways she didn’t realize possible, aided by his strong grip.

His breathing is heavy, and so is hers, a feeling of white hot pleasure begins to build, and she cries out, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Then he stiffens his hips, bucking wildly into her, and she feels the wave wash over her again and again, pushed forward by his wild thrusts.

When she awoke, she prayed to The Seven for hours afterwards in repentance for her immoral thoughts. All while trying to ignore the slickness between her legs.

Seeking fresh air, she threw open the small porthole and took a deep breath in, tasting the salt on her tongue. It was something she’d noticed after she’d first been smacked in the face by a rogue wave, seawater and tears tasted so very similar.

“I wish to stay here, I beg of you, do not send me away.” Tears ran down her face as she begged her grandsire not to ship her off to marry some widowed merchant across the sea.

“He is paying good money for you, Helaena; I will not have your childish emotions prevent our family from thriving.” He snapped, turning his back to her.

“I will marry the Lannister boy, I swear, I will cause no trouble, just please do not make me marry that lecher.”

Tobias Hawkings was the man who’d bought her like cattle at an auction. Prodding and squeezing her as he inspected her. It had been humiliating, and she’d sobbed into her pillow for hours afterwards.

“It’s too late to change your mind, Helaena, they’ve already withdrawn their offer.”

She collapsed into a nearby chair and buried her face in her hands. “Please, if you have ever loved me, do not do this.”

Her grandsire placed a hand on her shoulder. “It is because I love you and the rest of our family that I must do this.”

Helaena wiped away her tears, and returned to the present, a small smile tugging at her lips when she saw a pod of dolphins emerge from the waves, jumping up and calling to each other as they frolicked.

Perhaps her life with Tobias would not be too bad, he was old and could die soon enough, leaving her a wealthy widow. Then she could return home.

Suddenly the sky began to darken, and rain started to fall, she closed and latched the porthole, and made her way to the mess hall. “Is there a storm coming?” She asked the nearest sailor, who nodded.

“Looks like it’s coming from the East, shouldn’t be too bad. Don’t worry, Miss Helaena.” The old sailor patted her arm and went back to eating.

She made her way to the doctor’s quarters, a storm meant more rocking, which meant more vomiting.

The gods are angry tonight, perfect for us, bad for any fools.

Sometimes she wondered if she was a prophetess, and the voice was a god attempting to speak through her. She hoped that wasn’t the case, considering the voice had warned her of a storm earlier. She chastised herself, the sailor had said the storm was nothing to fear.

Helaena knocked on the doctor’s door and entered when he called out.

“Ms. Hightower, how may I assist you?” The doctor was sent personally by Tobias to assist her on her journey, and it reassured her that she’d have at least one friendly face in her new home.

“They say there’s a storm coming, I’d like something to help with the seasickness.”

He nodded and rummaged through his shelves until he found the little blue pills, he’d been giving her almost daily. “Take one every hour.”

Helaena took the glass bottle and tucked it into the pocket she’d had sewn into all her dresses. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He smiled, and she left, heading up to the deck, she loved storms when she was on land, something about the raw power of the elements on display took her breath away every time.

She stayed beneath the over hanging, watching as the rain collected into puddles on the deck. Lightening flashed across the sky, the roll of thunder following soon after. A dark shadow appeared on the horizon, and she made her way up to the First Mate who was leaning against the helm, his eyes scanning the skyline.

“Excuse me, Mr. Elliot, is that an island way out there?” She shouted over the increasing rain, pointing in the direction of the shadow.

Elliot took out his spyglass and extended it, peering in the direction she pointed. He lowered the spyglass and called out to the crew below. “Pirates!”

Helaena froze, rain soaking her to the bone. “Pirates?”

Elliot took her by the shoulders and pushed her towards the stairs she’d just climbed up. “Ms. You need to go to your chambers and don’t come out until one of us comes to get you. No matter what you hear.”

Helaena did as he said, hurrying to her chambers, locking it, then dragging the one chair underneath the handle. She stripped out of her soaked gown and slipped on her plainest one, scrambling around to hide her valuables.

Merchant ship, Hightower flag, no real defenses, looks ripe for the taking.

Dread set in, replacing the chill in her bones, was her mother right? Was the voice in her head her soulmates, and if so, was he on the ship heading towards them? No, there were hundreds of Hightower ships, they were a shipping company. The likelihood that her soulmate was on the pirate ship attacking her ship was low.

An impact shook the ship, and Helaena wrapped the blanket from her bed around her, before tucking herself in the space between her bed and the wardrobe.

Lightening flashes again and thunder shook the sky as the sounds of battle filled her ears. She clasped her hands together, bowing her head and praying to The Seven, she would survive this trip.

Finally, the noise stopped and all that was left was the creaking of the ship and the pattering of rain.

A knock came at her door, and she stayed silent.

“Ms. Hightower? It’s me, John, from the cargo hold. They sent me to tell you it’s safe to come out now.”

Helaena racked her brain; did she recognize the man’s voice? Did she know anyone named John? She had to admit, she’s avoided the cargo hold like the plague, not wanting to see all her possessions boxed up and covered in dust. She decided to take the chance. “I’m here, one moment.” She called back, standing slowly, blanket still wrapped around her.

She removed the chair and unlocked the door, pulling it open right as she heard him.

“John, hurry it up.” That was his voice, the voice inside her head.

The man standing before her, she didn’t recognize, and she slammed the door shut, throwing the lock closed once more. She pressed her back against the door, fear taking hold of her.

“Damn it, Captain, I just about had her out the door.” John swore.

Helaena scanned the room for a weapon but found none. She was trapped without any means to defend herself.

A heavy knock vibrated the door, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. “Lady Hightower, we mean you no harm, please open the door.” She knew that voice, intimately, and now for some reason she had access to his every thought.

Gods help us, we need to get moving. Why does she have to be so stubborn? Perhaps we could just break down the door.

“No, no, don’t break down the door.” She yelled, voice trembling in fear.

Can you hear me? His voice was back in her head.

Yes, please don’t break down the door. She replied, a twinge of excitement ran through her despite her fear. She was speaking with her soulmate.

Open the door, Helaena, let me look at you, I need to know you’re alright. His voice was insistent but kind, and she reluctantly opened the door.

He extended a hand to her, and she took it. “Ms. Helaena, a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s been in my head for years.”

She said nothing, her eyes darting to the heavily armed men that surrounded them.

They’re my crew, they won’t hurt you. His thumb stroked the back of her hand reassuringly.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[devoutpriest]

kjollsmithr:

head ANGLES atop neck’s column, akin to the eagle that flies across valholl's plains, rolling IDLY betwixt half-wiry, half-SKELETAL shoulders, leaving some vaguely PREDATORY echo in the wake of the gesture, reverberating albeit IMPLICIT; yet, perhaps for helga’s sake, or PERHAPS for his own, floki does not SNAP — reaches, at least, for a SUPERFICIAL IMITATION of aff- -ability, stemming from the GENTLED curl of helga’s fingers at his KNEE, their language without words. BE NICE. they spoke non-verbally in words and actions, her hands soft. SLIGHT tremor in his exhale is a response of its own, THAT MAY REQUIRE ME TO BE SOCIABLE, he thinks -- angry at this stranger for showing affection to his girl, but after a beat or two of RISKY, untrustworthy heart he does nod, at least APPEAR to ease off minutely, GRASPING at the mask he needs must wear, here, and SMOOTHING it onto the harsher, WILDER set of his features, the kohl he dappled onto his face from draugr.

“ mm, it is said, ” he concedes, a statement of FACT more than aught else — PERHAPS read as a certain false and GUILEFUL modesty, in the absence of OVERTLY expressed pride, but floki does not LINGER, does not dwell. (the PRIEST will think what he WISHES — floki has his boats, and helga, and his TRUER friends, and the opinions of a wayward, LOST, christian are little or NOTHING to him.) he hates the christian for the persecution of their kind, they reading their tome called the bible and setting forth with their flaming torches to burn ancient temples and altars the aesir blessed on plains like idavoll. still, a PART of him notes the slightly irksome OBVIOUSNESS of the statement — who ELSE but HE would build such ships, he who has had sawdust and splinters littering his hands, his skin, since he had BARELY reached the age of ten-and-two, he who KNOWS the depth and speed of their waters, the rocks that LITTER the shore, how broad and sturdy a sail must be to SEIZE their northern winds and make BEST use of them? (albeit, in the SAME breath, the vague irony that kattegat’s boatbuilder is as INTIMATE with the seas as he might be with a lover, yet cannot SWIM, HARDLY escapes his notice. he likes the beauty of the sea, feels the waves as he sails on his ship. ) “ thor may beat his anvil, but he takes more PLEASURE than you might think from ships that do not BREAK. ”

SUCH MODESTY… Was it not? Each time that he thought to speak to Floki, while he suspected evident suspicion on him, there was also an aura of mystery shrouded within as well.

When Athelstan thought to do so, he once or twice examined the boats more carefully, admiring the intricacies woven into them, to be so immensely sturdy. “True. It’s almost like a TEST of strength, isn’t it?”

The mention of Thor made a wry smile form across his lips. Thor was felt most POWERFULLY, rattling his bones to the core now, the god of thunder and rain, an ambiguous yet welcomed force to be RECKONED with, descended from the almighty Heavens, just like what he used to feel with God.

“Does he oft like to beat his anvil–that is, create wild, unrelenting storms–when your boats are out in sea?”

[heylinfanclub]

I been zoned out allllll day and it’s been nice but I do feel that usual ‘I have a ton of shit I need to get done’ dread circling near by. So sit your ass down dread we gonna schedule a few things I wanted to get done and you’re gonna shut your banshee hole.

Look: I did some dishes already, not in the structured way I’d approve of, but I got sOME DONE. I’ve put my loose laundry in my baskets. I’ve tOUCHED the exercise equipment. I took my meds and I’ve been WRITING (not long form shareable stuff, mostly brain storming, BUT ITS NICE!!!!!) I went to planned parenthood and got represcribed my T (in gEL FORM).

I really want to read the NEWS in my EMAIL cause it’s been bulking up for WEEKS but it’s scary cause propaganda and advertisements and total tonal dissonance I really hate it. But I want my local news and my INFORMATION. and doom scrolling won’t get me as nearly packaged as the nEWS.

I have overdue library books. I want to read at least one of them. My brother had loaned me two books I’ve barely touched I also want to read. I’m slowly making my way through ascendence chapters because I’m a behind a novel and am enjoying the slow progression of reading this time. I have been chowing down sO MUCH FANFIC it’s wild I love it and I kinda wanna write some. Just a lil.

Nov hopefully will be a creative month but I can’t do everything at once so I gotta just. Breathe chill and think bout scheduling.

There’s some other dreads with the ‘havent heard from my uncle since he got back from the hospital hope he’s just busy’ and ‘no financial stability hell life’ but that’s. Life. Just text your uncle a meme.

I wanna journal and this is sometimes the closest I can get to it. I used to be able to sit down with a pencil and a bullet journal and I filled THREE OF THEM during college but now—- I use my blog to blog. As god intended. (Wheezes). Tag it therapy cause it’s usually relevant.

I wanna play some BG3 also cause I have been zoned out of gaming for a couple days now despite the new patch lmao. Hfhfjgkh. I think I can control my intake. If not I plan for a following day of no game perhaps.

Ooooo I wanna to get cheap Halloween candy idk if they’ll still have some it’s been a couple days and I’ve stayed inside aaaaaaa that’s the most urgent one I suPPOSE I also need to pick up my meds at the store so YEAH go dO THAT—-

[asphodelical]

Nameless Prince: Full Disclosure

My writing process for Nameless Prince was a wild ride. The idea was first conceived when I was taking a walk in Central Park in August 2021. I wondered what would happen if Zagreus was a mortal with gold’s blood, rather than a god with mortal’s blood—a true reversal. This coined the original title, Goldblood, in reference to Alecto’s “redblood” nickname for Zagreus. It was shot down by kiko_murda, but I still have a soft spot for the name. 

When I began writing this, I wasn’t sure how I was going to end it. This was in stark contrast to my previous long fic, Storm Chaser, where I absolutely knew where I wanted it to go and end. As I was doing my research for inspiration, I rewatched Overly Sarcastic Production’s video on Dionysus, and the section on Orphic Dionysus/Zagreus had my solution. I had my ending. Now I just needed to adapt it to Hades’ canon. 

I wrote myself into a corner with that prophecy. My original solution for the “blood and ichor would be exchanged” line was just Zagreus’ switch. Long after I posted chapter 3, I realized that solution was weak as hell—made even worse when I wrote chapter 15. I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn't want to retcon anything, even though I was sorely tempted to go back and rewrite that line. Then I dug up an unused idea I had for Storm Chaser that utilized Ares’ vial of blood keepsake. Turns out it worked perfectly, and kept in line to the recurring sacrificial motif. So I quickly wrote the Thanatos and Ares scene (chapter 11). Not only was it one of the easiest scenes in the whole story to write, but it also got an instant thumbs up from my beta—no edits required. Thank you, Ares, for getting me out of that corner. (My only regret is because I thought of it so late, the keepsakes weren’t introduced prior. So part of me wishes that Aphrodite had given Zagreus the rose, or Hermes had given him the feather. My excuse is that because Zagreus isn’t a full god, they wouldn’t have given him those super special gifts in the first place.)

I originally planned for Demeter to have a bigger role, but Hestia ended up taking her intended role, particularly in the latter half. I don’t have much of an explanation for it, it just happened. And the Demphoon story was a perfect way to phase Demeter out. Contrary to the myth I was inspired by, I also never intended to have Zagreus meet Zeus. Mostly because I fucking hate writing Hades’ Zeus, but with Zeus knowing everything, I don’t think any sort of conflict he would’ve had with Zagreus would’ve been interesting. It would’ve been something like Zeus trying to kill Zagreus so his involvement with Persephone in the Underworld remained a secret, and then them making a deal to just never talk about it in exchange for glory and/or the Olympians leaving him alone. It was very unappealing for me to write, hence the background events of Heracles; A great way to keep Zeus (and Hera) out of the story. 

One night in November 2022 when I couldn’t sleep, I had a massive crisis—what if Athena rejected the vial of blood? Or what if Callisto swooped in and rescued Zagreus from Dionysus? I could make the story even longer! And I could write the bad ending I had thought of! I even had a list of characters I could introduce, and the nicknames they would call Zagreus, and all sorts of myths I could draw from. I wrestled whether I should extend the story or not for days. Then I took a much needed step back and a few deep breaths. I couldn’t, shouldn’t, and wouldn’t extend the story. Zagreus is mostly a reactionary protagonist in Nameless Prince, and he’s strung along by others. I can admit to this, and I can also admit that I hate reactionary heroes. They aren’t the kinds of characters who are well suited to long form storytelling. I would be doing Zagreus, myself, and my audience a disservice by going against the deliberate three act structure I had carefully set up. The integrity of the narrative is king. (Also, for the sake of my mental health, I had to end the story as I intended.) 

Perhaps the biggest confession: the last two chapters (16 and the epilogue) were not beta’d. But I spent a lot of time rereading and rewriting and editing them. Hopefully they came out just as well as everything else. 

What I learned from writing Nameless Prince:  

writing reactionary heroes sucks (Bleach is a prime example of this.)

introduce as much of your cast as you can in the beginning. That way there are plenty of paths the story can take without making it feel like you’re making it up as you go along too much, and you have characters you can go back to. (One Piece and Steel Ball Run are prime examples of this.) This will most likely become a staple of my writing. 

the rule of threes is truly a gift. I used it a bit in Storm Chaser, but I think I paced it better here. This will become a staple of my writing; it’s a great tool for keeping my pacing in check.

don’t write a prophecy. Just don’t do it. Especially when you don’t have a solid solution in mind. 

Sometimes a little chapter restructure goes a long way. (chapter 10 and chapter 16)

This was the first fic I began posting without completing at least 85% of it. When I started posting it, I think I had only six or seven chapters completed. I wanted to test how I could handle serialized writing and posting. It was weird. Probably won’t do it again. 

I’m really proud of Nameless Prince. Time to take a much needed break from Hades fics. 

[bilbobagginsomebabez]

we hate the same people for the same reasons, which is awesome, but also you're not quite understanding me.

it is designed. by the process of interaction. the exact same way that human systems develop over time, put in place by whoever happened to be there and whatever happened to work. westerners have a concept of "design" that is, like our entire culture, rooted in individualism. when you remove the concept of individualism, what does 'design' look like? a collaborative process in which things are added by newcomers over time as needed. that's nature. a process of accumulation designed by free interaction between living organisms, frequently mutualistic interaction. not intelligent design, with one mastermind making all the decisions as the western world imagines happens with God and kings.

this, to me, is spiritual. the necessity we hold to each other. the bug dies and the plant learns to eat its corpse, keeping the special rocks and chemicals arranged eons ago by the mushrooms in constant circulation. the trees, knowing they're stronger with each other, pass storm warnings and nutrients via fungal messenger to keep their young healthy and the forest strong [x]. trees still produce fruit 'designed' for mammoths to eat as a seed-spreading strategy and have not yet 'realized' that they're extinct, resulting in shrinking habitats as their fruit drops dead on their trunks, moving nowhere ( via the trees that miss the mammoths). in this, 'nature'--the vast system of interactions that surrounds us-- does have an intention: to continue interaction. the sociality that bred, the mutualism that opened up to us, the reality of communication and exchange, these things are holy to me. it is also science. ecology.

the role that humans can take in these systems when we understand and respect them is also spiritual to me. Here are some excerpts from Liz Ann Kozik's excellent Re-Peopleing Prarie that discusses some of the fundamental differences i'm trying describe here. [tumblr post] [esty link.]*

The PawPaw has an entire case study in the full text, but this is a plant with delicious fruit that 'naturally' produces a very small amount of it. this fruit is beneficial to more than just humans, being an amazing source of energy and nutrients for deer, raccoons, opossums, insects, birds, scavengers, decomposers, etc etc etc. more fruit is generally good for an ecosystem. human interaction with this plant increases the plant's health and produces more fruit for all beings in the ecosystem. human cultivation of pawpaw was made illegal as a part of the Native American genocide carried out by the US government (people starve when you make it illegal for them to grow their food.) this is driving PawPaw extinction, and the plant is currently endangered despite its deliciousness and the human desire to plant it everywhere and care for it.

when you divorce your concept of design from an individualistic framework that inevitably overemphasizes the influence of one member of a system, the system itself becomes beautiful. the constant push and pull which co-creates our lives, designed through our interactions.

humans didn't become the "dominant species" on earth through processes of domination and destruction but through our incredible ability to form mutualistic relationships with other organisms. domesticating plants was mutualistic--we cared for the plants with the biggest fruits and kept them alive, until they developed over time into staple crops that grow huge portions of what we need the most. domesticating wolves was not a process of domination or theft--you cannot trap a wild wolf in your house and expect it to go well. we formed mutualistic social bonds with wolves and they chose to stick around. same thing with pigs and chickens and sheep. we cared for them, developed bonds of trust and safety, and they chose to stick around. accumulated interaction becomes habit becomes collaborative design. the breath and heartbeat of the world

Atheist don't bug me. What bugs me are the type of atheists who will point blank talk about nature being 'designed' and natural phenomenon having a 'purpose' my dear you opted out of having a designer. You chose anarchy and good for you but then be realistic and recognize that nature is also anarchy. Evolution is a stupidass process where whatever genetic damage happens to produce the most reproductively successful creature gets passed on. There is no fairness. There are no noble animals, in fact most animals are cunts and proud to be such. Nobody in this universe cares if you are healthy in old age as long as you pop out a few offspring your genes and all its shittiness will remain. This is the universe you chose to live in now go forth and enjoy the chaos

[argothiathedreamer]

Been playing Breath of the Wild and I figured I’d tell you all about my experiences:

-Accidentally jumped into a freezing pond without realizing what the temp was and drowned.

-Tried to see if I could take out a Guardian on the plateau with nothing but bombs and arrows, *spoiler* I COULD NOT and wound up having to book it the fuck over a wall to get away from it. Immediately ran into a bunch of stalkoblins and got annoyed so I ran away from them too.

-Called King Rhoam a bastard under my breath every time I saw him.

-Let the guy at the Dueling Peaks Stable tell me about how to catch a horse while I sat there on the back of a horse I just caught, because I figure I need to make sure the NPCs know their programed lives have some purpose right?

-Game: “There’s a super simple way for you to get over this barracade between you and that shrine beside the Dueling Peaks Stable~” Me: *Climbs an fucking cliff and dives off the top of an waterfall, paragliding down to the shrine with no way of knowing if my stamina will hold out* Game:”... Okay yeah, I mean you could also have just used the power we gave you at the start of the game, but you do you, I guess.” (I made it flawlessly btw, but yeah I didn’t even consider using the freeze ability until I was actually inside the shrine.)

-Caught and tamed 4 horses but only registered 2 (Latin and Shadow), discovered I’m a natural at taming horses since I also ran out and caught Horse #1 (the first horse I didn’t register) in under 2 minutes.

-Climbed all the way around Mt Lanayru from the Hateno side towards the Naydra Snowfields on a quest of my own design unable to actually go up and over the top since it’s too cold, once I got around to the other side however I saw a Lynel AND a Hinox at the bottom and NOPED back to Hateno.

-I have taken a shot at or otherwise tried to kill every single goat I have seen in this game. I don’t know what my vendetta against goats is, but apparently I’m compelled to immediately draw my bow upon sighting one. It’s like an instinct... I have also killed a lot of birds, but like... that’s just business I need drumsticks for cooking stuff. Whatever I’ve got going on with the goats... that feels personal. In my alternate universe past life I must have been a Hylian who got harassed by goats.

-Killed like... 6 Bokoblins at an encampment with a single Bomb Arrow. Pretty proud of that one.

-Drowned like 12 times, not so proud of that one... (I have bad luck with water)

-Cooked so much food I think the NPCs are starting to worry about me.

-Made my way down the entirety of Lanaryu road from west to east, and spent more of it climbing walls to get around enemies who were definitely too strong for me than I did with my feet actually on the ground.

-Went out onto Hyrule Fields, was minding my own business, saving horses from Bokoblins, murdurizing goats, the usual. Then I ALMOST RAN FACE FIRST INTO A FULLY OPERATIONAL GUARDIAN WHO CAME CRAWLING OUT FROM BEHIND A ROCK LIKE A NIGHTMARE SPIDER/OCTOPUS. Made it up a huge rock and out of its sight in record time, proceeded to have a mini meltdown at the top. I don’t think it even noticed me.

-After that I left Hyrule fields and went back towards Lake Hylia, saw Farosh and was sitting there admiring it, while also planning how I was going to deal with the local Bokoblin Tree House of Horrors when BAM! I got struck by lightning. Probably would’ve been my first major death, except I very luckily had like 3 fairies in my pack. Anyhow I got revived and just start running back the way I came hoping I can outrun the storm and get somewhere safe (in the rush I forgot that I could just unequip my metal weapons) ultimately remembered that teleporting was a thing and went back to Dueling Peaks Stables.

-After that I decided the Guardians weren’t all that scary and set off across Hyrule Fields in search of Hestu.

-Rescued Horse #2 (who shall not be registered, but is still my buddy) from a bokoblin and rode him all the way to the Wetland Stable, where I found Hestu!

-More importantly I also found Kass!!!!<3

-Was going to head up to Zora’s Domain and meet Sidon <3 but after trying to head out 3 times in different directions and each time running  into a freaking lightning storm that chased me all the way back to the stables (I am grateful that Horse #2 is FAST AS HELL) I decided it was time to call it quits. Saved in the inn at the stable and put the game away for the night.

-Poor Horse #2′s out in the rain... I feel bad for him, but then again he’s hanging out in a pretty ass, super safe forest... He’s fine... as long as he doesn’t get struck by lightning.

[moonmaiden1996]

Claiming his Queen Part 8-teaser

Sorry to be AWOL for so long! Last two weeks have been hard! But I have been watching House of Dragons Omg Daemon! I need to write.

Also I am at 1500+ followers thank you! 

As always please comment

Warnings- 18 + dubious consent 

@layla2-49 for you

You had begun to hate waking up like this, in another strange bed in another bizarre surrounding. It had become such a regular occurrence that it seized to phase you. Your body was swaddled in the softest blanket, a gentle sea breeze caressing your face as it rolled off the lulling ocean. Brow crinkled as you blinked away the thick crust that coated your eyes as pristine crystal waves crashed against the shoreline, the gentle patter of rain in the distance sending ripples across the water. On the horizon, a billowing storm swirled, sending shocks of light across the sky.

Pulling yourself up, the cool air nipped at bare skin, blanket pooling around your waist as you sat up, leaving your naked torso exposed to the elements.

‘You’re awake.’ the deep voice filtered over the soft sounds of the weather.

A terrified shriek vibrated across the little oasis as the physical form of Morpheus manifested himself in a cloud of black sand, his silver eyes trained darkly on you as you scrabbled to cover your bare chest. You didn’t fail to notice the hungry look that sank deeply onto every edge of his face.

‘Where am I?” You snapped, huddling under the pile of blankets.

‘You are in the inner sanctum of the Dreaming, my heart.” The deep voice whispered as he inched closer, his eyes never wavering from you.

Anger prickled underneath your skin as you forced your eyes away from him. ‘Why am I here?’

‘I overwhelmed you. I blame myself for this, this can….’ His eyes lingered on the mark that mocked you from your arm. ‘be…. intense for baser creatures. I see that now. Here we are away from everything, where we can be alone to become one.’ Morpheus cooed.

Scoffing up at him, you felt a growl, only rival to his, fill your chest. ‘Baser creatures… you are deluded.”

The god stood tall, smouldering eyes burning down at you. “Deluded? Is it deluded to dress you in finery, give you every comfort and luxury? Love you, unlike anyone can be loved.”

“Love me? You insulted and kidnapped me,” You scoffed.

Silver eyes invaded your vision as his face hunched over you. “Kidnap? Is that what you think? I liberated you from that sallow pit of emptiness. You were alone. Suffering in silence just like me.’’

“Was Calliope the same’’? You gritted out, forcing yourself to stay still. You saw the fire erupt in his eyes and knew you had gone too far, but you couldn’t help; you needed to hurt him just like he hurt you. ‘I am sure she was lonely just like me; that’s why you married her, and then when she hurt you, you destroyed her.’

“Listen, my love, and listen well. Those dalliances were mere bleeps, cries for affection in my dark eternity, and nothing I felt for her or any of them comes near to what I feel for you. None of them wore my mark; none of them made my heart beat fast. You are mine. As I am yours.’’ Morpheus steely spoke as he stood straight, flicking his fingers and sending a command into the air.‘’Now we are together, that emptiness is gone, and I refuse to return to it. I will make you see that. Make you see that we belong together.’’

Wide eyes took in the god as he glowered down. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the sheets disintegrated into nothingness, leaving you bare under his gaze.

You squeaked as you attempted to cover yourself, your eyes glaring up at the untamed god; his hair was wild, features feral as they devoured your form. ‘You truly are my goddess.’ He hummed as his clothes disappeared, leaving his taunt, wiry nakedness exposed in the light of the moon, his thickness firmly pressed against his stomach, taunting you.

Screwing your eyes shut, you turned your head.‘‘Morpheus!’

‘It is okay to look, my love; I am yours’’ His voice sounded closer now, warm breath hitting your face.

‘Morpheus, please no….’ you screwed your eyes tighter shut, his cock pressed warmly against the side of your hip.

‘Shhhhhhh’, he cooed. Lips ghosted over your neck. ‘Shhhhhhh, my dream, I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.’ His lips dipped down and suckled across the base of your neck and throat.

‘I am sorry, my dream. For it all, but I will take care of you.’ He mumbled into your skin, pulling a soft whimper from you.’

‘Please, we can’t, you…we….’

‘I know you’re confused and scared, but this mark means you are mine and belong here with me in our marriage bed.’ He spoke with utter certainty, his hand beginning to trail down your arm.

Feebly you tried to wiggle from his grip, but his grip remained firm. ‘Don’t worry, my dream that is to come; now I will just show you how good I can be to you.’ His lips latched onto your shoulder as his slender digits trailed down your arm, getting closer and closer to that tender mark.

‘‘Please don’t,’’ you whimpered as his fingers found the raised skin of the brand.

Fire coursed through your veins as the soft fingers prodded down the mark. A burn bubbled beneath your skin, setting your whole body on fire.

‘You feel that, that inferno that brewed within you. That is your soul yearning for our bond, for the ritual that will connect us.’ Morpheus rumbled, a deep growl vibrating against your skin. You stared into his silver eyes and shook your head violently.

A frown tore at the corners of his face as he stared down at you. For the briefest moment, there was a small reprieve. His touch disappeared from your mark, and the ferocious want inside you disappeared, but only slightly. There was still that shameful eagerness that strummed at your core. A sigh of relief escaped your mouth and turned into a wanton wail as two fingers plunged into your pussy, curling up to hit that spot.

‘Don’t deny it; you are so desperate for me. Your soul and body are begging for me, and I won’t refuse its cries.’ Morpheus hissed as he pressed his body against you fully. A smirk stretched out across his lips as you gasped loudly as his cock skimmed across the side of your hip, nestled against your sensitive skin.

His fingers remained still in your core as shark-like eyes gazed into yours as his fingers rolled over that spot repeatedly. A string of lazy moans fell from your lips, and he pushed you closer to the edge with every massage of his fingertip, sinful lips working at your neck.

‘Morpheus!’ you wailed as your legs shook.

You hated to feel this vulnerable, but the pleasure was so much, more than you had ever managed to gain with your fingers or toys; you wanted to bath in the release of this warmth, but every time, you seemed ready to surrender to it he pulled it from your grasp.

So *hides behind hands* what you think?

If you do want to be tagged please comment below.

Question of the chapter- How do you think the claiming ceremony is going to go?

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[peelingitwithpeels]

It's spooky season soooo

The wilds headcanons Spooky edition

Dot is a witch, she prepares for the worst and brings small bags of herbs and salts wherever she goes. She is a solitary hedge witch instead of a coven witch because she prefers to work alone and without the distribution of others. They comes into town every two weeks to restock on supplies. She leaves a protection spell on her doors and windows to ensure nothing can come in while she’s gone and nothing can come in when she’s asleep. She feeds stray cats that often follow her home.

(Round applause for @fruitybishop who helped me with this idea they are amazing ) Kirin is a werewolf, but he absolutely doesn’t look like one. He look like some big fluffy golden retriever instead of a traditional wolf. After being bitten by another werewolf, his nose got stronger to the point where he can sniff out when someone is sinister or has ulterior motives. Everytime he transforms his hair gets longer and more fluffier than the last time. He gets warm very easily due to his fur when he's in wolf form so when he's in his human form he's a human body heater. He runs with a pack and one time, they hyped him up to fight a bear. Was NOT the best idea.

Rachel and Nora are Siren sisters; they live further in the sea on three small rocky islands called Sirenum Scopuli. Unlike some of the other characters, they were born sirens, daughters of a river god Winged creatures that lure sailors to their deaths, they only sing at night to ensure that they aren't seen and the possibility of escape is lessened. Nora plays the harp while Rachel sings the alluring song to draw the sailors in. Sometimes they disguise themselves as humans to go out on the mainland to scope out what times the ships go out to the sea and which ship has the most men on there.

Ivan is a vampire. He writes tons of journals since the moment he got turned to account for the journey of his undead life and he exaggerates the hell out of it. During the Harlem Renaissance, he found an old mansion that seemed abandoned and made it his main home for whenever he comes back from his travels. He dated plenty of famous people through the centuries. He uses his super hearing to listen in other’s conversations and he flies around everywhere he hates walking. The first time he drank blood he went overboard and killed a mayor and had to leave town. He doesn't wear mainly black because he thinks that's lame (he wears a cape)

Leah is a mermaid, she explores shipwreck ships and collects items from the ship and she swims to the surface late to show to Rachel and Nora who never have the time to examine human culture. Her tail is a beautiful sapphire blue colour and scales are up her forearms. Unlike the sirens, mermaids tend to be wary of humans and try to live their lives away from human intervention. Humans who do not heed warnings are usually trapped in a violent storm and never seen again. However, Leah whose curiosity knows no limit goes to land and befriends local humans to gather more information. Also, she accidentally drowned someone by thinking they could breathe under water

Josh is a ghost, he died from tuberculosis back in 1897. For the longest time he was lonely, only able to watch his family live on and die and unable to speak a word to them. With only animals being able to see him, he friended a flock of ducks and for year's the same flock goes by the house and he greets them. By 1923, Ivan found the house and Josh was so surprised someone can see him. Whenever Ivan comes home, Josh is overjoyed and accidentally spooks a victim away from the house (Ivan never is mad and just happily greets him). He can turn the lights on and off and whenever someone tries to get the house that isn't Ivan he knocks on the doors at night and turn the lights on and off and scare the living shit out of them making them leave.

Martha is a green witch. Unlike Dot, she lives on a farm closer to the town. She sells oils and herbs to the locals and some people come to her farm to seek medical help. On her farm, she had rabbits, sheep and cows. By developing a close relationship with them, she harnesses the energy of the nature sources around them. When she gardens, she compliments her flora and greenery and gives them cute names to help them flourish. She carries small potions and wears a black tourmaline necklace and gave one to Toni when she visited. Martha and Dot have weekly afternoon tea chats to catch up at Martha’s farm and Dot buys a potion from her before she leaves.

Raf is a Orc. He lives on the outskirts of town, not because he hates people but mainly because crowds make him nervous and he sweats a lot. Also adding to the fact that he is an orc he would prefer to never attract attention to himself. He sleeps on the ground because with every bed he buys he breaks on accident. The only person he felt comfortable enough to be around was Martha and she goes into town a lot for him. He taken to sewing because none of the clothes he found is ever his size because he is so tall. He mainly gardens vegetables and gives to them Martha so she calls to sell them for him (entirely inspired by Gorgug)

Toni is a werewolf. Unlike Kirin though, she looks like a wolf when she transforms. She doesn't believe in the pack mentality so she is a lone wolf and strays away from wolf politics. She stays at Martha’s farm and protects the farm animals from predators and out-of-town werewolves who pass by. She met Kirin by chance when she caught him in the middle of fighting a bear while his pack cheered him on and helped him cause the bear was winning. When a full moon comes out, Toni locks herself inside the barn and chains herself to a bed. As a result of being a werewolf, she has a larger set of teeth and a hint of gold in her eyes.

Scotty is half Faun and half Satyr, unlike Satyrs, Fauns are not women-obsessed as them and have a strong sense of direction. He once led a werewolf pack in the wrong direction because he wanted to protect the animals that would've gotten eaten if they had gone the right way. He lives in the middle of the forest but goes into town disguised to play his flute and earn cash. He met Kirin also by chance because he thought he was a regular wolf and tried to kill him for his wolfskin. He uses his flute to cast spells on travellers who have ill intentions of venturing out into the woods.

Shelby is a demon, to be specific she is a crossroad demon. There is a specific spot that locals know called the devil crossroads and people only go to strike up a demon in exchange for their souls. People wait till midnight and she shows up underneath the dim light of a lamppost. She gives them at least five years to enjoy their wish and she sends her hounds to give them a heads up that time is almost up and if they run, well, she loves the chase. She comes to Earth sometimes to scope out the bars and sees who would be her next customer and who she could tempt. She started to visit town more often to see a certain werewolf.

Bo is a centaur and he lives with Scotty in the middle of the forest. Normally Centaurs would live in Thessaly but Scotty convinced him to travel with him to a bigger and newer town that doesn't have that many centaurs. As much as Scotty enjoys wine, Bo is unable to handle wine as well so he usually drinks a glass of water when Scotty drinks. He uses a bow and arrow to hunt deer and rabbits and brings them home cooking them stew that would last them days. He bakes bread from scratch and goes to the abandoned mansion to chat with Josh while Ivan is gone.

Fatin is a Fae. Faeries are known for luring children into the forest and swapping them with a faerie changeling. She isn't interested in none of that, though she doesn't mind the fact that people don't talk badly about faeries because of how afraid people are of them. She often visits Dot and helps her with her chores in exchange Dot hands her children teeth (it's better if you don't ask how Dot has it). Dot usually plants roses in her garden if she misses Fatin and want to talk. Once, someone littered in the forest, and when midnight struck, she performed poltergeist in their house.

Henry is a witch, but unlike Dot and Martha, he is a Cosmic witch. Cosmic witches focus on celestial energies and perform rituals based on the elements. He waits till Midnight and travels to the woods to get a clear view of the stars and draw energy from the sky and stars. He keeps up with the natal carts and focuses most of his energy to astronomy and astrology. He carries crystals bought from Martha and learns basic steps to protection spells to keep his house marked and protected. When Ivan met Henry, he mistaken him for another vampire and exposed himself on accident.

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

Synopsis: While a fight breaks out Zemo asks you to run away from him, you accept leaving on an eventful journey with him

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Author’s note: A final 3rd installment for ‘A Freudian Slip’ I hope you all have enjoyed this brief series! Next to come out is a sequel to ‘Perfectly Exasperating’

Bucky carried Zemo back into the house bridal style, his hands gripping tightly around Zemo’s legs and chest, and dropped him onto the sofa in the midst of the room. Zemo was knocked out from when John Walker had the brilliant idea to stop Zemo from smashing all the super-soldier serum by chucking his shield at him. You could see a nasty bruise forming on the top of his head where he was struck.

You gently run your fingers over the side of his face. At this moment he looked so peaceful sleeping, his lips pulled up into a natural slight smile, parts of his hair dangled down across his forehead, his face softened and not tensed like it usually appeared to be. You brush the hair back into its usual place, running your fingers over his feverish forehead.

You turn to Bucky and Sam, whose eyes burn into yours, millions of questions flashing through them, yet they remain unspoken. “I’ll look after him,” you tell them, turning your gaze back to Zemo's peaceful form. It was easier to stare at him than them at the moment.

“You and Zemo have been spending a lot of time together,” Sam states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’ve been making sure he doesn’t betray us,” You snap back, refusing to look at them

“Sam and I have been doing that as well and you haven’t seen us giving him bedroom eyes,” Bucky argues back, stepping forward, but Sam grabs a hold of his arm to stop him from going further.

“Look y/n, we’re just concerned about you. That guy a criminal, he could easily manipulate you,”

Your eyes flash to him angrily, “You think I would be easy to manipulate,”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Sam says but Bucky interrupts him

“Yes. I know him, y/n, that is exactly something he would do. You can’t trust him,”

“I’ve told you already, I’m just making sure he doesn’t betray us. There’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you believed me,”

They sigh in defeat, glancing at each other, then back to you. “Look, I will not argue with you. Go get him the things he requires. Bucky and I need to check to see if we can find Karli. I might get a chance to talk to her again” Sam says and he and Bucky turn their backs, sending one last concerning look at you over their shoulders then disappearing.

You sigh looking back to Zemo who still slept peacefully unaware. A smile tugged on your mouth, but it twisted to a frown. You all knew damn well you had been lying. Whether you wanted to admit it, you liked Zemo. Every time you saw him, the urge to kiss his lips pulled you in. You could still feel his embrace, his kisses on your neck, shoulders, collar. The sensation of him inside you, touching you. You craved it more and more like he was your addiction.

You don’t know how you hadn’t gotten to this point of being so obsessed with him, where it had kicked in. You always found him attractive, from when you first laid your eyes on him as he broke out of the prison, you felt that attraction pull to him. You never expected it would be anything more though till that one embarrassing moment when you called him daddy in the undercover mission. You could still feel your cheeks burn up in embarrassment as you remembered that night, but you could also feel your body warm up as you thought about what happened in the alleyway. How he kissed you so passionately. So earnestly.

You had tried to deny your feelings, pretend it wasn’t there, and that kiss that never happened, but Zemo would not let you avoid him. Your eyes flickered to the bathroom and your breath hitches as you remember the intimacy you two spent together there. It was there you felt you truly saw Zemo for the person he was. A man who was lonely and broken from his past. A man who cared for you no matter what Sam or Bucky says.

You felt so scared when you saw the shield hit Zemo. Panic gripped your heart as you rushed over to him. John peered down at you like you were dirt as you cradled Zemo’s head in your lap. Sam and Bucky had run up to you and were surprised you were on your knees holding his head in your hands.

As you were observing him, Zemo's eyes cracked open, and he moaned in discomfort, bringing his hand to rub his eyes. Leaping up, you shouted at him to stay still as you fetched a flannel, running it under cold water, and brought it back to him.

He smiled as you handed him the flannel, the sides of his lips curling up like a cat. “Thank you” he mumbles.

“I’ll get you a drink,”

“You’re being very kind to me y/n,”

“Don’t get used to it,”

He snickered at your sudden switch to hostility, “Will we constantly be bouncing between kindness and hatred?”

You exhale, sitting down beside him, handing a glass of whiskey to him. “I don’t hate you, Zemo, though I really should. There’s something about you I just love and I can’t let go.”

You hesitate, both of you pondering over your sudden confession. Zemo raises the flannels of his eyes and looks over at you. His eyes, which are full of wonder, scan yours. You wanted to look away, embarrassed, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to keep running away from how you felt.

“You terrified me earlier. I thought John Walker had killed you.”

His eyes switched to concern as his eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry I frightened you y/n. I- I never thought I would ever get over my wife and... I still love her but you enthrall me, you drive me wild because I want to know everything about you, feel all of you, touch all of you. It’s been so long since I felt this way and it frightens me.”

You reach out your hand to grasp his and he runs his thumb over your knuckles,

“Zemo I-”

The door opens and both yours and Zemo’s head snaps towards it as Sam and Bucky walkthrough. As quick as lightning, you let go of Zemo’s hand and strode away to the opposite side of the room. Zemo’s eyes sadly glance at you, then to his hand, and he lets out a sigh. He takes a sip of his drink, then pulls the flannel back over, his eyes settling down on the sofa.

Bucky rolls his views and wanders off while Sam grabs a seat at the table to work on his laptop. The silence was suffocating. At least for you. Sam seemed to try hard to concentrate on the laptop, but Zemo relaxed, sipping his drink and you pulled out your phone, playing a silly game to waste away the time.

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo finally asks Sam. Sam’s gaze leaves the laptop looking at you, then over to Zemo.

“What?”

“The serum,”

“No,”

You glance between them, not knowing if you should leave or not. Sam didn’t seem to want to be engaged in a conversation, but Zemo wasn’t taking the hint.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Without a second hesitation, Sam replies, a harsh tone to his voice, “No”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive,” Zemo says, nodding in approval.

He raises his hand, taking off the flannel with a slight grunt, “Sam,” he says as he holds the flannel in his hand, his gaze unwavering from it.

“You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her. She’s gone. And we cannot allow her and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods among real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

You look down to the ground, frowning at Zemo’s words, but Sam answers without hesitation, “Isn’t that how god's talk?"

Zemo’s eyes continue to glare down at the flannel, for once not speaking up.

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“Blood isn’t always the solution” Sam finishes as you hear a door click in the background. As Bucky walks in, you get up and walk over to Zemo again, who sits up to let you sit beside him. He gently places his hand on your knee, your eyes flickering to each other, hiding the action enough so the others don’t see. Though you both say nothing because of the present company, it’s as if you could read each other's thoughts. You were both conflicted on what path to follow and because of that, you found solace in each other.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky mutters, shrugging off his jacket.

“Like we hadn’t known that from the start,” you mumble

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy,”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam agrees

The two argue about the shield once again and you were preparing to stop them when the doors once again burst open and John Walker and his partner storm in. All your heads turn towards the disruption and you groan in frustration at seeing him.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to hand him over,”

Both Sam walks out in front of John to stop him from getting nearer Zemo. You stood up to go stand by him as well, but Zemo grasps your hand as he gets up, shaking his head. Your eyebrows turn down confused, but he doesn’t offer you an explanation.

With his other hand, he hands the bottle of whiskey over to you, then picks up his glass, dragging you over to the kitchen counter. You weren’t paying attention to what Sam and John were saying till a spear flew past them, imbedding in one pillar.

Your eyes widened as you saw Dora Milaje storm in.

One of them speaks in Wakandan to Bucky, obviously pissed. “Release him to us now” she orders in English. Zemo’s eyes glance anxiously from yours to them, his mind swarming with thoughts of how to get out.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.” John says walking over to them. They refuse to say anything to him, so he looks awkwardly away.

“Well, let’s uh put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?” he says, patronising them. You wanted to facepalm because of his stupidity.

“Hey, John. Take this easy. You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje,” Sam warns

John Walker however doesn’t listen. He proceeds to antagonise them till he finally places a hand on her shoulder and all hell breaks loose.

Both you and Zemo stand at the side watching John Walker fight them. Zemo sips his whiskey and offers you a sip. You smile slightly at his nonchalant attitude about the fight, letting him raise the glass to your lips as you drink.

Both Sam and Bucky eventually join in the fight as well, and once again you move to join them, but Zemo’s grip on your hand tightens. “Not now little one” he mutters

He peers around, watching the fight as you stare questionably at him, “Zemo what the hell is up with you today. Did that hit to the head get rid of your common sense” you whisper angrily trying to tug your hand out of his. Zemo rolls his eyes at you, clasping your hand.

“We need to go” he whispers urgently and tries to tug you towards the bathroom.

“What? Zemo, Zemo wait. What do you mean we?” You ask, grounding your feet into the floor.

He looks around at the fighting, his skin becoming whiter as he gets more worried. “We don’t have a lot of time y/n, please. I need you to come with me,”

You didn’t know where he wanted to go, or how he was planning on leaving, but you could see fear prickling in his eyes as he looked at you.

“What about Sam and Bucky?”

“They will be okay. Please y/n, I want to spend this time with you. I don’t want to do this alone,”

You stare into his eyes once more, then nod, finally making your choice.

You let him lead you back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. He quickly pushes the bath aside, revealing a passageway into the sewer.

“Ugh,” you say to yourself as you look down the hole. “Ladies first,” Zemo says, placing his hand on your back, the side of his lip curling up into a smile as he guides you over to the hole.

You shoot him a glare before grasping onto the ladder and clambering down as fast as you could, trying your best not to slip.

After a minute you reached the bottom of the ladder and Zemo arrived quickly after. It was so dark down there, but thankfully Zemo had a flashlight in his coat. Once again grabbing a hold of your hand, he guides you down a pathway.

“So this was the best escape plan you had?” you ask, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant smell

“I’m sorry y/n, did you have a better plan?” he replies sarcastically

“Well, I didn’t know I was running away with you until a minute before,”

Zemo pauses, beaming the light on your face, making you cringe. He lowers it slightly. So it wasn’t in your eyes but still illuminated your face.

“I owe you a thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn’t a simple decision to leave your friends for a person you meet just a few days ago,”

“When you put it like that, you make me feel even crazier for making this decision,” you grumble

“But it’s okay Zemo, Sam and Bucky will be fine without me, and I wanted to be with you,”

Zemo raises his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. Quickly he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His spare hand holding the flashlight wraps around your waist as he holds you there, moving his lips on yours, which you reciprocate.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended. He pulled away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours. “Thank you, little one”

His nickname for you sends shivers along your spine and you let out a husky breath. He smirks at you, turning around, and continues to walk down the pathway.

Eventually, you reach another ladder that you can climb up. You blink a lot as you emerge into the sunlight, finding yourself on a random road.

“What now?” you ask

Zemo walks over to a car, jumping into the driver's seat, and pats the passenger seat next to him. As you get in beside him he easily hot wires the car and gets the engine started.

“So have lots of experience stealing cars?” you ask Zemo and he chuckles, “When you become a criminal you pick up a lot of new skills,”

“I suppose aiding with the escape of a criminal now makes me one as well. You bring about a lot of surprises,”

“I’ve been told I am quite surprising,” he glances at you, smirking as he drives, “And seductive,”

You slap the side of his arm lightly, “Eyes on the road, mister”

“Mister? I think I prefer what you called me before. Hm, what was that again?”

You groan as Zemo brings up that embarrassing night for you, “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You calling me daddy? Of course not. I quite like it,”

“Where are we even going?” you ask trying to direct the conversation somewhere else

Zemo turns from looking at you to the road, the smile on his face slowly fading.

“Sokovia,”

Your breath hitches as he says the name of his country, bringing back the reminders of his previous family.

“I want to see the memorial,”

You nod quietly, not sure what you could say.

For the next ten minutes, you two sit in uncomfortable silence. All previous moments where you were having fun had faded. Eventually, Zemo sighed in frustration and made a sharp turn in the car, pulling into a secluded spot on an empty road.

He turns off the car and turns to face you. “It seems to me we need to talk,”

You look to him then away, “I don’t think so”

“Y/n” he growls

“I said we don’t need to talk!” you shout, glaring at him, but you snap your lips shut as you realised how much anger had suddenly built up in you.

Recognition flashes in Zemo’s eyes as he stares at you, “This is about my family, isn’t it?”

You look away, your cheeks burning as you knew how ridiculous you were being.

Zemo nods his head, looking at the road ahead as he thought over what to say.

“You are part of the reason I want to go to the memorial,” he finally admits

It was your turn to look at him, puzzled. He pushes his lips together as he prepares for what he wants to say next.

“I love my family. Every day, I miss them. But I also really like you y/n. You are someone I want to spend all my time and money on just to make you happy. Every time I look at you, I want to take you, no matter where we are. And I feel I owe it to my family to visit the memorial to pay respect and to accept that it is okay for me to move on,”

It felt like with his words he had lifted an enormous weight off of your shoulders. Tears sprung to your eyes and Zemo looked panicked noticing them but you grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Zemo,”

His fingers run along your arms and up to your face, tracing your jawline. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and slowly move forward towards you. Once again he captures your lips with his but this time it was gentle like he was trying to savior you. You grasp the fur parts of his coat and try to pull him closer, you can feel through your kiss him smirking.

“Would you prefer to take this to the back seat?” he rasps and you nod your head quickly. You pull away from the kiss, shifting in your seat so you can clamber onto the long seat at the back of the car. Zemo holds onto your waist as he follows you through the back. He sits down on the seat and pulls you onto him so you were straddling his waist. His hands grip tighter to your hips as you go back to making out with him while you ground on his lap, feeling wetness stain your pants.

You smirked into the kiss as you felt Zemo’s trousers stiffen and a bulge appear as you grinded on him.

“Let go of me Zemo,” you sigh as you pull away from the kiss, hesitantly Zemo lets go of your waist curious to see what you were planning. It was hard positioning yourself with the limited space you two had in the car, but you sat on your knees, pushing his legs apart as you settled between them. You reach up and tug down the zip on his trousers, exposing his boxers. Zemo sits back and watches you as you tug them down, exposing his member.

Already some pre-cum had leaked from it, which you gladly licked up, running your tongue along its side. You traced the vein that stuck out, feeling it pulse against your tongue. Teasing him, you flick your tongue over the tip, hovering your lips just around it but not going further.

Zemo finally moves, impatiently he grasps your hair in his hand and pushes you down onto his member, making you take all of him. He lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he rolls his head back as he felt the heat of your tongue on his member. You suck your cheeks in to give him more pleasure as he pumps your head up and down so that his member could go in as far as it could.

You grasp his tights to position yourself better. You could feel aching between your legs as you longed for more, but at the moment all you wanted to do was please him. Zemo pushed your head faster, grunting, feeling pleasure swarm over him. He then suddenly pulled you off his member, grabbing your arms he lifted you, getting off the seat and pushing you on so you were lying down on your back.

“Forgive me little one” he purrs as his hands roughly grasp at your trousers and quickly pushes them down, exposing your pants. “I need to feel inside you” He runs his finger up them chuckling feeling the wetness soaking through.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, looking in your eyes, “We don’t need one” you gasp, the urge to feel him swarming you.

“As you wish,” he says, immediately pushing your pants aside and slipping into you.

You moan feeling him stretch you out but as soon as he was in you he drew back almost completely out of you but snapped his hips back into you. He thrusts with all the strength he has, pushing your body up and down on the seat.

You wrap your hands around his back, your nails digging into his back as your body moves up and down with him. His head settles on your shoulder, where he leaves hickies. Every time he pulls back from kissing and biting you he would whisper things in Sokovian that you couldn’t understand but you were sure were endearing.

His fingers snaked down to find your clit and rubbed it, sending shock waves of pleasure to your brain. You let out a loud moan as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. As if knowing you were close, Zemo's hips thrust deeper into you, hitting the right spot to make you let loose, your walls clamping down on him as you came. He groans into your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him. His thrusts grew more erratic till you could feel him twitch in you and his seed spill into you.

He pants heavily, finally looking you in the eyes. “I love you little one,” he whispers

You smile, placing a kiss on the side of his face, “I love you too... daddy”

He chuckles and finally gets off you.

The car drive after that was comfortable. Zemo liked to drive with one hand on the wheel while the one hand resting on your thigh, as if reminding you, you belonged to him and only him. Hours later, you finally arrived at the memorial.

Holding your hand, Zemo walks up to the sculpture. He speaks to himself in Sokovian first, getting whatever he needs to say off his chest. After that he turns to you, his eyes capturing yours as they were glazed with tears, “The loss of my country, of my family, broke me y/n, but in some twisted way I am not as upset as I was about it before because it led me to you. I don’t blame you for any of it, I know you had nothing to do with the Sokovian attack just like Sam and James. I’m so glad I could spend these last moments with you.”

You look at him confused, “These last moments?”

You suddenly hear footsteps approaching and you quickly spin around, seeing Bucky appearing behind you. Your head snaps back to Zemo. “Zemo what the hell is going on!?”

He smiles sadly at the floor, then back at you, grabbing your hands. “I’m afraid I must ask something hard of you y/n. Please, can you leave”

The breath left your lungs; it felt as if your entire chest dropped hearing his words.

“... What,”

“I don’t want you to witness what must happen next,”

Your gaze flickers from Bucky who was standing back letting you two have your moment to Zemo who looked desperately at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zemo,” you state

“Y/n…”

“NO!” you shout

“Y/n I-” Bucky says walking forward, but one death glare from you quickly shuts him up.

“How could you ever ask something of me like that, especially after... after everything that has happened,”

“I should have told you y/n, I’m sorry, but I needed to spend these last moments with you because you are so special to me, I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling you what was to come,” tears gush from your eyes as you shake your head at him, He steps closer to you, holding your head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“And because I love you, I don’t want you to see this. You know there is no other way out of this. It has to happen, and it’s okay, I’m ready. Just like I could with my wife, I know you’ll be able to move on and find someone who will give you everything I can’t and never will because you deserve so much better than me,”

“I love you,” you whisper, the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes examine every detail of his face, trying to ingrain everything in your mind.

“I love you little one,”

He pulls you into one last kiss, gentle, but the romantic moment drowned in sadness.

You pull away. Turn around. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do you won’t be able to leave. You glare at Bucky though you know as well as Zemo it isn’t his fault. You walk a slight distance, just enough so that they are out of sight, and then you collapse on the floor.

Your hands into the ground, pulling at the dirt as you let all your pain out, trying to hold in your sobs. How is it you had fallen for that man so quickly? You loved him; you had risked giving him your heart, and he was pulled so quickly from you. You felt betrayed; he didn’t tell you what he was planning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it either.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, but you opened your eyes when you felt a shadow fall over you. Looking up, you saw one member of the Dora Milaje looking down at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you gasp, connecting the dots. “Zemo'' you whisper, jumping off the ground and running back to where you last saw him. Sure enough, as you arrived you saw him being escorted to the Dora Milaje aircraft.

Hearing your footsteps, Zemo glances over at you. Sadness flickers in his eyes as he stops walking to look at you, but they grasp his shoulder, forcing him to look forward and to keep moving. You watch as they escort him away, till you couldn’t see him anymore.

Bucky walks over to you, looking at the floor guiltily.

“I’ll see him again,” you tell Bucky

“y/n I don’t think-”

“I’ll see him again, Bucky. You can count on that”

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[celestialarchon]

Coming Soon

The Celestial Archon: Remastered

A/N at the bottom!

WARNING: Spoilers ahead about the story and archons. Spoilers for most story quests!

*******************************************************

The Archon war had finally ended and the eight victors came forward to claim land across Teyvat as their own. Seven regions were formed, shaped by the individual god whom would reign. One such god, did not claim territory, telling the remaining Archons that they would not be tethered to the land below but to the sky above. The Celestial Archon claimed the sky above and the dreams of Teyvat’s people.

Each Archon would come to celebrate their victory in their own ways, inviting the eighth archon to join them. However, the god of the stars merely smiled and waved them off. Barbatos and Morax especially hounded the ethereal and mysterious archon, they had the closest friendship to her of all. Even the adepti that served the geo archon had become quite attached to the lady of the stars. For the rest of their immortal lives, Teyvat’s seven archons would be overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and regret for not chasing her harder.

Eight days after the archon war ended, the eighth archon disappeared into the night never to be seen again. Barbatos the god of freedom was haunted by the loss of another friend and his grief was a secret he would hold onto. His people could never know how hypocritical his title truly was. Morax made a contract with himself that he would do whatever it takes to find his old friend. Each electro archon was blessed with a curse of eternity and preserving it at the despair of losing the goddess of stars. How could Schneznaya know love when it was ripped away from the cryo archon right after the war was won?

With the loss of the goddess of stars, many hardships came. Teyvat was in it’s golden age but suffered terribly from her disappearance and the circumstances behind it. Every shooting star gave the gods hope and every time they were let down again. Hope would only resurface after centuries at the hands of a gifted astrologist and a strange outlander.

“When a storm of stars falls upon Teyvat, ancient powers will rise again. A new era of celestial bodies is lead by Teyvat’s greatest ally or greatest foe.” Mona’s premonition was ominous and mysterious, shaking all those in Liyue and Mondstat to the core.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Earth 2021

“You’re an adult now. You can’t do this anymore, this daydreaming crap is really getting out of hand,” My best friend’s voice was stern.

I let my eyes focus on the ground, refusing to meet their eyes. Once again, I had zoned out and missed something important. They call it maladaptive daydreaming, I call it coping. Life sucks and reality sucks, why would I ever want to stay in it? Is it really wrong to hate the life I live? I’ve always hated this world. It feels wrong.

“I know I have an escapism problem,” I sighed and rested my chin on my hand, “But, I don’t know what else to do. It’s like I long for something far away from this world or plain or whatever you’d call it. I don’t know if I belong here.”

My friend sighed, “You really worry me sometimes. I can’t tell if you’re okay or not.”

“Is anybody okay?”

“That’s not what I mean,” They clicked their tongue at me, “You’ve always been different. Sometimes when I look at you, you look so far way. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

I let my hand drift to theirs, wrapping my pinky around theirs and chuckled, “Don’t be stupid. You know I always make it through, I always do end up okay, don’t I?”

I could tell my words didn’t truly reassure my friend and I honestly couldn’t blame them. The pandemic had probably only made my usual odd habits worse. I loved that friend dearly, but when they left I was flooded with relief. That feeling was only temporary of course as their words settled in. I began to wonder if they were right.

That night, my head was foggy like a bad horror film. I pulled the blankets over myself and sighed. Normally, I would’ve spent the next few hours daydreaming but their words echoed in my head. I leaned over my bed and grabbed my switch, my heart pounding in my chest as I wiped the device of animal crossing and breath of the wild. I set it down and fell back into the sheets sighing. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of my favorite game yet. That would have to wait till morning.

As I lay there, tears began to well up in my eyes and my heart ached. For some reason, the thought of deleting Genshin Impact genuinely hurt me. The characters and graphics were so beautiful but more over they felt familiar. My friends words about maturity echoed in my head as I slipped into unconsciousness, strange dreams of a place that felt more like home than the home I had made came and left.

I was sleeping so peacefully but then that terrible feeling came over me. You know the one where you’re falling? Yeah, that. Suddenly I felt like I was falling in my dream, except this felt less like a dream and more like reality. I had been falling for a long time, I wondered when I would wake up.

And then I heard his screams. My eyes fluttered open and suddenly I realized I wasn’t dreaming. I was falling from the sky and something was very wrong yet also very right.

My name is (y/n)(l/n) and this is the story of how I was cursed and blessed all at once.

A/N:

HELLO!!! I decided to redo this story in a way that I originally had it planned out combined with the storyline and plot I had before. I am returning but updates will be slow. A master list is in the works but I was in the hospital and going through a lot of health stuff as well as having several close friends that passed away which is why i’m an anemo character. I love all your support and will be finishing up requests and answering asks that i’ve missed. love you all so much.