#but for the love of god stop stripping them of everything that makes them interesting

[fenharels-chewtoy]

I get being a fan of Solas but you gotta appreciate Lavellan herself too. She’s the other half of the ship and part of what makes Solavellan so fascinating to me. Sure, you can play Cadash or Adar or Trevelyan and get something interesting but there’s something so compelling about Lavellan as the Inquisitor.

All Inky’s can be kind, caring, compassionate, but it takes a special level of strength to be kind after losing everything. Lavellan is taken from her old life, turned into a religious symbol for her oppressors, and stripped of her identity and culture. There is an undeniable alienation she experiences, both from the shemlen, and then from her own beliefs (and her People/Clan) as she goes through the events of the game; she learns that the history she worked so hard to study and preserve was built on the backs of slaves, that her gods were tyrants and slavers, and that Fen’Harel’s name was ruined through millennia of propaganda and perpetuated lies. She is changed from her time as the Inquisitor and from falling in love with Solas—mentally, physically, and spiritually. She fell in love with the god, with the monster, her people were taught fear, and as the stories go, Fen’Harel’s touch leaves you forever marked.

The Dread Wolf’s name is not worshipped in reverence; it is invoked in fear, in anger—it is a curse, reviled, and spit like the most corrosive of poisons.

But that isn’t who Lavellan falls in love with. Just like the Inquisitor, Fen’Harel is a title and mask worn by a broken man forced into a role he didn’t want.

She was taken, twisted, turned into something she didn’t want, but she did not let it break her. The world had taken so much from her time and time again, yet they continued to demand. She gave up her home, her life, eventually her friends, and even the very organization she dedicated everything to. Forced to make decisions that shed as much blood as it saved. The rest of her life was spent in pursuit of a man looking to end the world, long after she’s already saved it once before. She holds her head high and bears the weight of the world like she was Atlas himself. The Inquisitor bends and bows, but never does she break. Despite this, despite it all, she still remains kind. And Solas? Sweet, gentle Solas. His heart is still so kind but he’s hardened it.

A romanced Lavellan wants to help Solas, to save him from himself. She sees the mask for what it is and knows the man—the spirit—hiding behind it all. Wisdom, taken from his home, turned into a weapon and then a symbol—a god. Forced to fight for what is just, Fen’Harel breaks under the trauma wrought upon him and by him.

He is weighed down by duty and service—to Mythal and to his People. The world was broken by his actions, and he seeks to rend another to restore what was sundered.

Wisdom was lost, turned to Pride. It hides under the guise of Fen’Harel because he believes it is not what the world needs.

The Evanuris claim that Fen’Harel is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, when he was a weapon forged by their own hand.

Lavellan chooses to walk the Dinan’shiral with Solas. Maybe for some, it is because they, too, believe the Veil must come down, and the world restored to its natural state. But, as loredrinker said in their fantastic post, it may be because of connection. They see that Solas is suffering; that he’s been alone. This path would break what was left of the gentle Wisdom underneath it all. The Path of Death, he called it.

She said so herself: “I will save you.”

She walks the Dinan’shiral, not as Solas does, but parallel to him. She does not walk it expecting to reap death, but to stop it. They’ve both experienced loss—lived through horrors no being should ever experience. Leaders, symbols—burdens taken on by shoulders that shouldn’t bear them alone.

And Lavellan will not allow Solas to bear this alone. As she had done with her friends in the Inquisition, she is offering him connection. She will ease his burden if he would let her. Despite the isolation she no doubt feels, she makes sure none of her friends ever feel alone. She supports each of them, gives them a shoulder to lean on, and takes their pain as her own because that’s just who she is.

I will bear this weight with you. You are my heart. We walk this path together. Pain, terror, a terrible future, but you do not have to go alone.

And in the end, the wolf finally takes it. And oh, what a relief it must be after all this time. Millennia, suffering. Alone, lonely, on a path he set for himself, believed to end in eternal isolation. After all, Solas’ worst fear is dying alone.

But no. This is not your fate, vhenan. Ar lath ma.

[trippingontheescalator]

I think there's too much moralizing in the HP fandom. Like, every time I see arguments between the Marauder/Snape fandoms, it boils down to morality, which is ridiculous because characters are not real people. They do not have morals, or thoughts, or actions. They're puffs of smoke that only exist inside your own brain. Imo, the worst thing a character can be is boring. Snape is many, many things, but he's not boring. Part of what makes him interesting is that he's contradictory, sometimes he does bad things with no real reason but to satisfy his own emotional stuntedness, sometimes he does good things because it's the right thing to do, and all of these actions remain in character.

James Potter is a footnote in canon. A tabula rasa. We know a handful of basic facts: he desired Lily, he bullied Snape, he saved Snape from getting eaten by a werewolf, saving Snape didn't stop him from bullying him, somehow Lily decided to date him even though he literally tried to blackmail her, his friends loved him, he was loyal to them, he was charming, he fought in a war. Everything else is fair game! Make him your own! Do something with these bare bones and create an interesting character! And yet when I see these interpretations of him that are like "Bambi did nothing wrong, Snape was actually the evil mastermind behind all of this just to make poor James look like the bad guy >:(" I just saw a take that had Snape as the mastermind of the werewolf prank that he designed to break up the group, and I'm just like, my friend, those horrible flaws make James interesting. You just turned him into a sad sack of goo. He's no longer a character who acts, he's a blank slate that things happen to. There's a difference. You somehow made a footnote even more boring. Don't be afraid to embrace the darker aspects of him just because you're afraid of a character who is not perfectly moral and good 100% of the time.

[itsthatmff]

Hello everything is fine? If requests are still open, can I request opm Garou, Saitama and Sonic with a partner capable of healing any serious injury and renewing their vital energy?

So interesting. It was my first time writing for sonic so don’t go too harsh on me 😞. And yes everything is fine! Just school stressing me out lmao. But I hope you enjoy!

Having an S/O who can heal wounds

Gn!reader

Included: Garou, Saitama, Sonic

Requests are open !!

Garou

It was in that shack where you and your friends often came to hang out because it was an unused and empty place in the middle of the forest that you found that white haired man resting after a long and tough fight.

It couldn’t even be considered resting the way he looked. Blood dripping down his body like water. Of course you immediately tended to him without thinking twice.

You were a B-class hero. Downplayed to the support role, a mere healer. People - especially the association did not see the potential in you. It always bothered you but in this situation you were lucky. God knows what Garou would have done if he had seen your name in the Heroes lexicon instead of just skipping the Pages with the B-class ranked heroes.

One instance lead to the other and it became the norm healing him up whenever he got injured. You developed a weak spot for him. The way he sat on the dust filled couch with his legs spread and his head leaned back. Always making snarky remarks. And always being shirtless.

“It’s great I have ya. Got my own private hopsital.”

“You good? Stop starin at my abs and heal them damnit..”

And of course he has a soft spot for you. May not show it but he cares for you in his own way.

It was when he began coming over for the most useless reasons that you realized he had a crush on you.

Like for instance before or in the middle of fights he’d come looking for you asking you to renew his energy. But after a while he came over every second day with the excuse that “What if I get into a fight?? I need all my power ya know.”

Once you start dating he eventually finds out about you being a hero. Doesn’t really care about it. He is just as upset with you that no one acknowledges your true powers and asks you if you want to join him on his hero hunting but you refuse.

That does not affect your relationship though.

Will lay on you as he lets you heal him. Is real snuggly. Will also groan extra loud to get you all flustered though.

Saitama

(Does this guy even get inured???)

After some research I’ve come to the conclusion that this guy has never gotten severely injured. He does feel pain but it barely hurts.

He does get some tiny scratches from time to time though.

Those if course you heal as his partner. He insists that he doesn’t need it but secretly loves the care you provide him.

When out on Monster battles you two are the best duo to see. While he takes care of the Monsters you take care of any citizens in the area.

He admires you so much and thinks you’re like the backbone of the heroes association because in the end you’re the one who contributes to the citizens and the heroes health.

If anyone dares to say otherwise they’ll have a problem with him.

Let’s you play support in video games because you’re “made for it”

What he does love getting from you are massages though. Your massages are magical because due to your healing and energy renewing powers they make one feel refreshed.

He’ll ask for one whenever he gets the chance.

“A massage’s always good. I can seriously start to feel the back and shoulder pain at my mid-20’s.”

Sonic

At first he’s very reluctant over getting treated by you.

The chairman he works for offered him a personal assistant/nurse. Which was you of course.

This guy knows no shame. Literally strips himself naked in front of you so you could inspect “all his wounds clearly.” It takes you some bickering around for him to put his clothes back on.

Also this guy CANNOT SIT STILL FOR A SINGLE MINUTE. always has to hop on from one place to another with his super speed. It’s just more ‘comfortable’. You literally have to cuff him down sometimes for him to sit still.

And will not stop talking during the treatments. Talking about being the fastest, avenging saitama and whatsoever.

It’s like a therapy and treatment session all at once.

Once you both start dating he gets so comfortable. Will enter the room and lay on you without saying a word expecting you to treat him.

Will justify the injuries he’s gotten like it’s his job.

“Ah that one..you see there was this frick of a cyborg who did not know when to quit. He chopped my hair off too..can you believe it?!”

“See but i’m still stronger than him though. Next time I’ll bring you his head as a souvenir.”

[revelboo]

The fact that I, as a sex-neutral(maybe repulsed) asexual, love your writing enough to read over half of the characters. Including ones I didn't think I would like at first is beyond amazing. You are a god of writing. I don't even like reading smut normally, and yet I can't get enough of your work!

Speaking of, Wheeljack is such a sweetheart. Can we get more of him soon?

Thank you!

18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Circuits and Wires Pt 13

Wheeljack x Reader

• Servos ghosting over warm skin, his mouth brushes your jaw. Relying on you to stop him if he crosses a line, because he knows what he wants, but he’s not sure if that’s what you’re after. I need you, those soft words spill warm through him. Giving him hope that he’s not misunderstanding you. And your little hands run over him, so soft and gentle before reaching to catch the hem of your upper covering and tugging it off to reveal skin. “You can touch me,” you whisper, expression vulnerable. Not like you’re unsure that you want him to, but like you think he won’t want to. That he might not want you and he hates that he’s given you that impression.

• “This okay?” He asks. Vocal indicators solidly red now as one of his palms rests on your lower belly and slides up. And he doesn’t move at first when you wiggle and start trying to strip out of the rest of your clothes, praying you didn’t read the whole situation completely wrong. Because if you did? If he’s not actually interested and you’re putting everything on display, you’re going to crawl into one of the vents and hide for a week in mortification. Finally, he gets with the program and shifts to stretch out beside you so you can awkwardly shimmy out of the rest of your clothes and you can’t look him in the optics when he stares at you. Now positive you just made things so painfully awkward between the two of you. That he’s not into your squishy alien self and you can’t really blame him. Something’s just wrong in your brain making you want him, alien or not.

• Reaching out he runs the tips of his servos from the base of your throat down your soft body, hesitating against your lower stomach. Afraid to move any lower. To ask for more. And you rest a hand on the back of his. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say, still refusing to look him in the optics and it’s driving him crazy. “Really, it’s fine,” you add, face reddening. Venting softly, realizing how you’ve taken his hesitation, that you think he doesn’t want you. That he doesn’t need you there against him to calm his restless mind so he can recharge all night long. Your presence reminding him to take care of himself, because skipping a meal interval means neglecting you and he can’t do that. Needs you more than he can begin to explain, looks forward to explaining things to you, to your smiles and laughter.

• “I want to,” he says, hand sliding down to cup you. Servos stroking gently, uncertainly. And his helm bumps your forehead, those blue optics on you, not what he’s doing. Watching your reaction. “What feels good to you?” Honestly? Anything right now. Just want him to touch you, hold you. Hips rocking when he presses a servo inside you, your lips part. Feel his mouth brush yours again as you cling to him, hips finding a rhythm when he strokes you.

• Your scent on every ragged intake of his vents and the taste of you on his glossa when he deepens the kiss. Your arms looping around his neck as your wet heat grips his servo. “Wheeljack,” you murmur against his lips, riding his hand chasing your pleasure. And he’s lost in the way you look, eyes opening to stare up at him, lips parting on a breathless noise. Has no idea how he’s going to explain this to the other Autobots, but then they’ve always laughed at him. Thought he was a bit off, so maybe his newfound xenophilia probably won’t surprise them at all. Because he wants you, wants all of you. You’re his best friend, but he wants more. Needs everything. Needs you.

Previous

Next

[astrolynnworld]

bondage

pairing: dom!matt x reader

summary: matt has a bondage kink that he wants to try

warnings: smut, bondage, language, oral, degradation, praise, implements of daddy, choking, one use of spit play, rough, love, lust.

pre a/n- this is gonna take me so long to write, watch

word count: 1,603

although it was a few days after christmas, matt told me that he still had a surprise gift for me.

so here i am waiting for him to bring this mysterious gift out

matt comes into the living room with a big box in his hand, and a smile plastered on his face

“oh god” i say out loud as he places the box down in front of me

“open!!” he says excitedly

I get to opening the boxes wrapped in paper.

inside the box i find multiple whips, ropes, and handcuffs

“huh? what the fuck is all this?” i asked confused and unamused

“remember when you said that if there was anything we wanted to try in bed, we can just bring it up to each other with no shame?” he states, implying something bigger

“yeahhh..” i respond

“well, this is kinda new, but I want to try.. bondage” he replies hesitantly

“bondage huh?” i repeat for clarification.

“yeah.. bondage” he says again hesitantly.

“i like the idea of you being restrained, while i am in full control of your stimulation” he continues

“oh..” i say in complete awe

“we don’t have to if you’re not into it I just thought it would be-“

“no no no i’m totally down. I just wasn’t expecting something like this from you.” i interrupt

“when would you want to try something like this?” i continue

“uhm.. i was kind of thinking right now. if you’re down with that?” he asks

“oh! okay yeah.” i reply as i stand up from the couch

i follow him to the bedroom, “this is gonna be interesting” i say with a chuckle

we get to the bedroom and matt starts unbuckling the restraints and attaching them to the bed frame

i stand by an watch the boys plan unfold right in front of him.

he gets up off the bed, “strip” he demands

“why don’t you take them off for me” i look up at him with my seductive eyes

he smiles and comes in close to kiss me

he strips me down to my underwear and bra as he continues kissing me

he sits me on the bed starts undressing himself before making his way back to me

he starts kissing up and down my body making my way to my pussy.

he takes off my underwear and starts lathing at my clit

licking up and down so slow and gently.

he takes his hand and starts using his fingers to circle my clit as he licks up and down my pussy.

“fuck matt, your tongue feels soo good. please don’t stop” i moan and buck up into him

he now takes his hand and uses the wet coat of my juices to slide into my hole

he uses his fingers to thrust in and outside of my hole while still giving me the oral stimulation on my clit

the combination was overwhelming and i continued to grind into his face until he pulled back

“do you wanna be a good girl baby?” matt asks

i nod my head

“words princess” he states

“yes. i wanna be a good girl daddy” i reply

“well good girls listen to their daddies okay? so you’re going to do everything i say correct?” he issues

“correct” i repeat

“good girl. now lay in the middle of the bed for me baby” he demands

i do as im told.

he grabs the restraints and starts tying it to each limb of mine.

first the right arm, then my right leg, moving on to my left arm and my left leg.

“there you go baby. all set!” he says as he tightens the last restraint

he crawls on top of me and and starts to tease my lips

he would kiss me once then pull his head back in order for me to fish for more

“baby pleaseee. you know i need you so bad right now” i beg

he lightly slaps my cheek then grabs my throat, “i know you do princess, which is why you’re in my full control”

he leans down to my face while still holding my throat, i can feel his breath on my lips

“so pathetic. i love it”

“stick your tongue out for me princess.” he insists

i can see the salvia leave his lips to make contact with my tongue

“swallow.” he demands

i follow as instructed

“such a good girl for me, my love” he smiles while jerking on his hard dick

he starts to climb up higher to my face, and dangling his cock in front of my face making me go cross eyed

“you look so dumb underneath me like this” he smiles

i stick out my tongue and lift my head up as far as it can go so i could reach his cock with my mouth

“aww is my little slut struggling to get my cock? does she want me to make it easier for her” he says before inching it closer

still not enough for me to reach. each time my tongue touches the tip, he pulls back a little

i throw my head down in frustration, “please matt. please don’t do this to me” i beg

“tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you” he says

i pick my head back up, “your cock matt. i want your cock in my mouth matthew. i want you to fuck my throat, please” i whine

and with a swift motion, matt grabs my head and inserts his cock in my mouth

he uses his hands to push me back and forth on his cock while he also uses his hips to thrust inside my mouth

“fuck your mouth feels so good” he groans while throwing his head back

“your throat is so tight and warm on my cock.. fuck” he continues

nothing other than the sloppy sounds of him fucking my mouth and his moans can be heard throughout the room

“oh my god you’re such a slut. i bet you like that i’m in full control of you like this right now. i bet you’re so turned on by this” he grunts out

“you like when i fuck your throat when you’re tied up under me with no control? huh?”

“i bet it feels so good to you huh? such a nasty little slut. my slut. my slutty princess who’s such a good girl for daddy.”

all as he continues to fuck my throat

“fuck i’m gonna cum-“ he slows down his pace and pulls out.

i take gasp silently trying to catch my breath and regain air

“as much as i’d love to cum in your pretty little mouth, there’s better holes to work on” matt says before slide back down to my bottom half

he starts using his cock to tease my clit and wake her up from the lack of stimulation in the past few minutes

but doesn’t take long before she’s starts leaking out wet juices again

“so fucking hot” matt exclaims before sliding into my hole

i arch my back at the feeling of his girthy long cock sling inside me

matt’s length never fails to surprise me

he starts off slow with a deep thrust that sends me into a shock every time he pushes himself in

i can feel everything in my body stop when he pushes himself in like this

i don’t even have words for him, i can’t even get to thinking right now it just feels too good.

“you look so brain dead on my cock right now. do you like it when i take care of you like this princess?” he asks

i nod my head

“words princess.”

“nugh- ye- yes matt. yo- feel so f- fucking good ri- right fuck- right now” i try to form a sentence

he bends down and starts kissing me while interlocking my restrained hands with his

“i- it’s n- not fair t- that you g- get to make me f- feel like this.” i whimper out while shutting my eyes

“look at me” he responds

i try to look at him but it’s so hard to keep my eyes open

“look at me or im going to stop”

i try my best to keep my eyes open as he fucks deep into me, picking up the pace

“i fucking love you”

“nhmmm i love you so much matt. fuck” i say trying to keep my composure

“you’re so fucking perfect and you always feel so good”

“there’s nobody better than you”

“you’re so fucking perfect and you’re fucking mine”

“my perfect girl, mine all mine.”

i feel the knot in my stomach starting to untie

“matt im gonna cum.” i say while squeezing his fingers that are still interlocked with mine

“me too baby. just cum with me.”

“cum with me like the good girl you are”

“daddy’s good girl”

i arch my back and fuck myself into his cock for the last few times as i come undone on his cock

he throws his back back as he also releases his high

he brings his head back down to kiss me as we both finish off our orgasms.

“you’re so fucking good to me. i couldn’t have found anymore more perfect than you” matt praises

i blush and smile, “i love you matt”

“i love you more y/n”

matt undoes the restraints and uses a bedside towel to clean up our messes

he tosses the towel in the hamper and proceeds to climb back in bed to cuddle me to sleep.

couldn’t have chose a better life

———————————————————————

a/n- took me an hour and a half but i really love this story so much!! hope you guys enjoy as well

@mattsneezing <3

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 12)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(LISTEN… this story has gotten out of control and I need help.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“It’s alright, child.” Sera’s moods swung round like a revolving door. She could change and bend from someone motherly to a raging Force to an uninvolved observer in a millisecond. “You don’t know any better.”

She reach out and placed a hand on your cheek, perfectly warm and loving in her caress while her eyes remained like flint against the loveliest of features. “Everything has come to pass as it should. You’ll understand in time.” 

It made you sick. Your skin grew clammy as an acidic substance shot up your esophagus and your whole body pitched backward to escape.

You would’ve taken hours locked away with that asshole Adam before you stood another minute being condescended to by the Seraphim.

You were sulking, and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop. 

The building that you had been taken into to meet Sera in the first place served as some sort of Capital. It was grandiose and reached so high up that you couldn’t see where the damn ceiling ended. Perhaps it didn’t. 

You had to take great pains to escape it, navigating among high-ranking angels of all kinds filtering from both the ground and air above you in orderly chaos. It quickened your step to notice that a number of them did a double-take at seeing you. 

           They resembled different things, just as the angels outside did, although most of them appeared human-like. You wondered briefly if there was a rhyme or reason to it, or if God chose to make the woman you barely avoided running into resemble a moose because it made Him laugh. 

Once you’d escaped the war room, you had immediately breathed a little easier. Still, you continued on until you physically felt the tiny shocks and electric currents of warning ebb from your skin. It was as if Sera’s essence had stuck to you, her presence clinging to your frame to make a longer impression.

It had your skin tightening, muscles clenching as a chaotic flood of anxiety and fear prevented you from walking solidly. Too many ‘what if’s’ took you in and out of awareness, making you stumble over nothing. 

It had crossed your mind that Emily did not appear before you’d made yourself scarce. A part of you had wondered at that, feeling as though she’d have waited for you out of some concern for your wellbeing. 

Perhaps that was all for show, however. Sera was clearly excellent at appearing benevolent, and Emily had looked toward the Seraphim for guidance in front of you. It stood to reason that Emily could also be two-faced. 

The logic was sound and yet it made you wince, whether from shame at your incorrect judge or character —

‘Or how much she reminds me of Lucifer.’

You imagined Emily looking at you while stripped of any warmth and compassion. She quickly changed, morphing into Lucifer with hollow, unfeeling red eyes. 

It hurt.

—

Panic had you frozen in place a time or two before you’d gained a wide enough berth to stop. 

Beforehand you’d walked clouds so polished and flat you’d swear they were glass, amidst the more general population of Heaven with your arms wrapped around yourself. It felt needed when even those outside the Capital looked at you with interest, as if they knew. 

Maybe they did. Was it against the rules to keep secrets in Heaven? 

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.”

“Executioners?” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

The recollection of a seemingly insignificant moment drew you to a halt. You stared at the pristine ground, fists knocking at your sides. The confusion on your face doubled when you looked up. 

Your ‘wide berth’ had led you far away from the crowds of perfectly content angels and their sleek, futuristic buildings. Farther than you’d anticipated, as ahead of you lay a line of trees that thickened into a dense forest. 

Like Earth, Heaven had a variety of terrains — or so it would seem. Child-like curiosity had you crossing the line between airy openness and into the thicket of pines. All varieties of fir, pine, and larch coexisted with one another, bowing and swaying in the wind. There was nothing to be afraid of, but a sense of oddity hung in the air as you walked a perfectly sculpted path. 

The smell of damp earth and lilies rose from the ground at your feet. A warm breeze rustled the hair that hung limply around your face. Birds sung merrily above you, flitting from branch to branch. 

It occurred to you that no matter how deep you traveled into the woods, the sunlight never waned. 

And yet faintly you heard roaring. It was distant but growing louder with every step you took. 

It was not an animal nor man calling out to you from far away. You felt the change as the smell of sap intermingled with that of salt on the wind, and the floor turned from nettles and moss to pale sand. 

You rubbed your eyes as the trees parted and seemed to disappear as they revealed a beautiful, sparkling sea. 

Sun cast off the surface of the ocean, bouncing against a kaleidoscope of multicolored clouds surrounding it. And you had Dejá vu before blinking away the flash of purple and honey in your eyes. 

You watched tiny waves as they fell against the shoreline, seafoam disappearing within moments. It continued, mesmerizing you, as you ambled toward it. When the water finally rushed over your feet, it carried tiny seashells that scuttled around you. And unlike the ocean you were familiar with, this one was a perfect temperature, no acclimation required. 

For the first time since arriving in Heaven, you felt yourself smiling genuinely. 

You gave into the urge to squish the wet sand between your toes and waded into the water up to your ankles. Your worries began to wash away with each pull of the tide, slow and steady. 

Eventually, you meandered away from that singular spot and began to trek parallel to the shore. The sun never got in your eyes nor did the sand get whipped up and blow into your mouth. Everything from the waves to the breeze was gentle. 

As were the eyes that were upon you. 

As soon as you felt that stare, you stopped in your tracks. Just the thought of turning to them was daunting. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

—

Eve had lingered upon your every step once you’d arrived in her neck of the woods. 

She was glad to see that the effects of the beach it hid were enough to soothe you, even if it was more of a distraction than a cure. You deserved something good, even if it was relatively meager compared to everything you’d endured up to this point. 

Your figure grew smaller as you crossed the sand, away from the first woman’s hiding spot. You were none the wiser, engrossed in the soothing give and take of the water. It made it easier for Eve to creep up the beach only a few paces away, free to follow your path without ruining your tranquility. 

It reminded Eve of a simpler time when she was the one being eyed curiously from afar. 

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @martinys-world, @devilslittlebabyxx

Forgive me if I forgot to tag you or the tags don’t work, I don’t know what that keeps happening.

[dekariosclan]

What do you think are some things that would give Gale “the ick” ? I think we all know he values people’s character over all but everyone has some things that just make them go “egh”

Ah, an excellent question! 🧙‍♂️☝️💜

You are so correct that our wizard values people’s character above all; Gale is not put off by appearances, because he’s solely interested in the values and kindness of each individual he meets. In addition, he is extremely open-minded and forgiving, so I think his list of ‘ick’ traits is relatively small. I myself have narrowed it down to three things that I think give him ‘the ick’, two of which are linked to his in-game dialogue, and a third one that I personally think is just….very fitting of Gale. So let’s get into it!

1.Disgusting eating habits. Ah, the infamous ‘STOP LICKING THE DAMN THING!’ Which of course comes after Gale is so appalled at seeing Tav sampling rotting spider meat (and their…enthusiastic reaction…) that he floats the idea that ‘the time might just have come when you and I should split ways.’

I think his disgust here is more than just the unsavory food factor, because per Shadowheart, there have been times when the team has had to consume fish heads and stale bread just to survive. But this isn’t a matter of survival, it’s a choice to stick rotting spider meat in your mouth! The same mouth that issues orders to the team, talks to Gale in friendship, OR shares a kiss with him if romanced…just the thought of what Tav’s breath would smell like gives ME the ick!

2.Disgusting hygiene habits. Look, we all know Gale loves (and I mean LOVES) a musky Tav 😍. And oh, what’s this, a sweaty Tav in battle?! Muscles all shiny and sleek?? Why yes, Gale appreciates that too! Very, very much! What I’m talking about is the truly gross stench of the Goblin camp (‘this place is rotten!’ as Gale says), the foul sewers in Baldur’s Gate (‘nothing like the stench of human effluence to make you regret any and all prior life decisions’) and Act 2’s bloody disgusting illithid colony (‘Gods, that smell! Abattoir crossed with privy.’) Gale makes it quite clear he is not a fan of any of it.

The thing is, Gale isn’t a super fastidious guy—his home in Waterdeep has books scattered all over the place, and Tara even says he keeps his potions in disarray. All he’s asking is that Tav not kiss any diseased Goblin toes or take a dip in any sewer runoff. But Tav working up a bit of a sweat? That’s fine! Totally fine!

And finally, the last thing that I think would give Gale the ick (albeit a modern-day AU Gale) is:

3.The use of AI for artistic creation. I’m pretty sure Gale, the man who crafted a beautiful night sky with his own two hands and told Tav, “I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you,” would despise AI. Gale values creativity and imagination, and to have them thrown away for the sake of outputting an image or piece of writing faster would be appalling to him. Seeing the Ghibli AI art trend would make him shut down his computer, rub at his temples to try to calm down, fail miserably, and then burst out at the dinner table: “DO THEY NOT REALIZE THAT BY CREATING GHIBLI ART VIA AI THEY HAVE STRIPPED IT OF EVERYTHING THAT MAKES GHIBLI ART SO BELOVED IN THE FIRST PLACE?!” while Tara and Tav try to calm him down so he doesn’t spill his wine.

[dragoneyelashart]

ᯓ★ the summer we lost • chapter 3

summary: it was supposed to be the perfect summer—just before college, you and your online friend "william" had planned out meeting this summer, but everything came to a screeching halt when your parents dropped the bomb that you had to get a job at a family friend’s dance studio. so instead of having fun, you’re stuck teaching kids who can barely stay on their feet, alongside a girl you can’t stand. now, while your friends are living their summer, you’re tangled up in a mess of pirouettes, bratty 7-year-olds, and a summer you’ll never get back. warnings: angst | mature language | sexual content | substance consumption

authors note: so chapter 3 is hereee wc: 2.9k

the summer we lost masterlist

your alarm doesn’t go off. mostly because you didn’t set one. today’s your first official day off in weeks, and you’re clinging to every second of it like it’s oxygen.

the sun leaks through your blinds in soft golden strips, warming your pillow, and for the first time all week, you don’t feel like you’re already late to something. no screaming children. no ballet shoes. no billie.

just silence, a little bird outside your window, and the familiar buzz of your phone lighting up with a text.

aaliyah: r u alive?

you smile, thumb already typing back.

you: barely. just woke up. what’s up

aaliyah: party’s tonight, remember?? don’t be lame

you stare at the screen for a second, brain still half-asleep.

you: oh god that’s tonight?

aaliyah: YES. u said u were coming. dress nice, something slutty or mysterious idk like u just murdered a man in monaco

you: what does that even mean

aaliyah: just be hot. i’ll pick you up at 7

you throw your phone onto the bed and roll over, groaning into your sheets. you had agreed to the party, mostly out of guilt and aaliyah’s persistence, but partially because she was your best friend. she threw one every summer, and missing it was borderline criminal in your friend group.

and maybe you could use the distraction.

you check your messages again—just one from your mom (asking about laundry), and a tiny, familiar one from “w.”

w: you better tell me everything about this party. i’m already mad i can’t be there to crash it

you: you’d probably find a way to spike the punch and start a rumor

w: obviously 🙄 

her messages feel like a hug. like a little invisible thread tugging at the edge of your world, pulling you back when things get too overwhelming.

you: kinda nervous though. idk why. haven’t been out in forever

w: ok so we’re u in hibernation, maybe you just love my company so much

you: 😒

w: pretend you're in a coming-of-age movie or something

you: what if i am

w: then i’m the hot mysterious love interest who shows up halfway through

you laugh, dropping your phone onto your pillow. maybe tonight won’t suck after all.

aaliyah picks you up at 7 just like she said and you both make your way to the house the party was going to be at. the music’s loud, a pulsating beat that vibrates through the floor and into your chest, but you can barely hear it over the buzz in your head. there’s a weird tension hanging in the air, something thick that you can’t quite put your finger on, but it’s making your skin crawl.

you’re standing by the drinks, trying to keep your mind distracted. aaliyah's next to you, her hand wrapped around her red cup but not really drinking, her gaze locked onto the door as if she’s anxiously waiting for the something.

the door opens, and a few people trickle in, but it’s the sight of them—billie and leilani—that stops aaliyah cold. your heart stutters. she’s here? just when you thought you could escape her.

billie steps inside like she’s been here a million times before, confident, almost arrogant, with that same look she always wears. but now, there’s something else to it: her arm is casually slung around leilani’s waist, pulling her close like they’ve been attached at the hip forever. 

leilani, aaliyah’s younger sister, is leaning into it, her head tilted back, laughing at something billie says. the smile on leilani’s face is too soft, too trusting. it hits you like a punch in the gut. 

"oh my god," aaliyah mutters, her voice low but sharp, enough to make you glance at her. she’s rigid, her jaw clenched, and her fists are tight at her sides. the look on her face is pure fury.

"what’s wrong?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but something about the situation has your heart racing.

aaliyah doesn’t even look at you, her eyes glued to the pair at the door. "isn’t that your sister?" you ask, your voice unsure. you grew up with aaliyah’s family, how could someone so innocent, like leilani be with someone like billie, stuck up, arrogant and just downright rude. 

"yeah," aaliyah bites out, barely looking at you, her eyes still locked on them. "what the fuck is she doing" she says the words like they're coated in venom, the anger seeping through each syllable. 

“and why is she with billie,” she spits the name like it’s something sour. “that bitch i was telling you about.”

you blink, not sure what to say. you glance back toward billie and leilani, who are still standing in the doorway, billie’s arm wrapped tighter around leilani, her fingers grazing the skin of her side. it’s casual, but it looks so much more than that. billie’s body language is too comfortable, too intimate for something that should be so new. she doesn’t even seem to notice the looks she’s getting, strolling in like she owns the place.

“she’s such a big player,” aaliyah continues, her voice clipped, tight with frustration. “always has been. she does this to everyone—makes them feel like they’re the only one, makes them think they’re special, then moves on like they never mattered.”

you frown, your eyes flicking back to billie’s relaxed posture, the way she’s holding leilani against her. all that, to someone so sweet as leilani? you don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, burning in the back of your mind. 

“she’s like that with everyone,” aaliyah mutters, her hands trembling just slightly as she glares at them. “you think you’re the one she’s interested in? no. none of us are. it’s all a game to her. especially leilani. i fucking warned her about this.”

your heart sinks as you take it all in—this is who billie is? this is the girl you’ve been trying to figure out, the one who’s been toying with you, too? a mix of confusion and disbelief builds in your chest, but there's also something else—a sick feeling, like a little voice telling you that this is what you signed up for. that this is what it means to get tangled in someone like billie. 

aaliyah’s voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and angry. “and now look at her. she’s doing it to leilani, right in front of me, after everything i’ve warned her about. she thinks she’s got her all figured out, all charmed up, but it’s just another game for her.”

you glance back at billie again. she’s got this easy confidence, this air about her, but now, it’s twisted. it doesn’t look so fun anymore. your stomach twists as you realize aaliyah might be right. you’ve been just as caught up in billie’s game, maybe not in the same way leilani is, but it’s still there. that pull. that strange magnetism. 

aaliyah rolls her eyes, her lips curling in disgust as she watches billie laugh with leilani. “i’m telling you, stay away from her,” aaliyah says, her tone quiet but fierce. “don’t need her doing that to anyone else.”

you swallow hard. “how do you know this though?” the words slip out before you can stop them, the uncertainty in your voice clear even to yourself.

aaliyah doesn’t respond immediately. instead, she watches the two of them, her eyes narrowed in pure annoyance. “i—uh someone from work mentioned it the other day, something about her cheating.”

the weight of aaliyah’s words presses on you, each one landing like a stone in your chest. you didn’t want to believe it, but now it’s hard to ignore. how much of billie’s attention is real? how much of it is just part of the game she’s playing with you, too?

aaliyah doesn’t look at you as she says it, but her words land heavy between the two of you. “i hate her. and if you have any sense, you’ll stay away from her.”

you want to tell aaliyah, you want to tell her everything—that it’s not that easy to ignore her. she’s your boss, the boss you hate but that’s another story. but the words stick in your throat, tangled with all the confusion, the uncertainty, and the sudden doubt that you can’t quite shake. why was she making you feel like this? you hated her. aaliyah hated her.

the music pulses in the background, but it feels miles away now. everything feels out of reach, like you’re standing on the edge of something you can’t control. 

you look at billie again, and this time, you don’t feel the same pull you did before. it’s not the same.

“wow, you can actually talk. didn’t know that was in your skill set,” billie says, her voice dripping with amusement. she leans against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with that same mix of curiosity and sarcasm she always wears like a badge of honor.

you don’t even bother to hide the annoyance in your expression. “oh, so sorry to disappoint. i guess i didn’t realize i had to entertain you.”

billie smirks, not even the slightest bit fazed. “entertain me? i don’t know, you’re just so... quiet. my tv’s never quiet” she tilts her head, studying you like you’re some kind of puzzle she’s just dying to figure out. “thought you’d be more... dramatic, considering, you know, everything.”

you feel your patience snap, just a little. “yeah, well, you’re dramatic enough for both of us,” you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms, trying to act like you don’t care. but your heart’s racing, the pull between you and her still there, even if you’re trying to ignore it.

billie’s grin widens, clearly enjoying the way you’re reacting. “oh, trust me, i know. i’m the life of the party. but it’s cute,” she teases, her eyes scanning you for any sign of cracking. “you’re like... a little unbothered island in the middle of all this chaos. it’s kind of refreshing.”

“refreshing?” you repeat, fighting back a laugh that would just give her more satisfaction. “you mean annoying.”

billie takes a step closer, leaning in just a little too close for comfort. “sure, i could see how you'd think that. but deep down, i think you’re actually a little into the drama. just don’t want to admit it.”

“no that’s not true, fuck you’re so—" you stop yourself, not sure if you want to let her see how much she’s getting under your skin. she was still your boss and you could still very well get fired. which would mean your mom would kill you. it’s frustrating, knowing she’s messing with you, but what else could you do?

before you can finish, you see aaliyah marching across the room, her face tight with frustration. she’s got leilani in tow, pulling her to the side with a scowl that could freeze anyone in their tracks.

“this can’t be good,” you mutter to yourself, watching the scene unfold.

billie, of course, notices immediately, the sly grin spreading back onto her face. “uh-oh, looks like someone’s in trouble,” she says, almost a little too smug.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “you’re so annoying,” you bite out, voice thick with irritation. “seriously, you just had to come here and mess with everyone, huh?”

billie laughs, throwing her head back like she’s actually enjoying this. “mess with everyone? babe, i’m just having fun. not my fault people can’t handle a little fun.”

“fun?” you repeat incredulously. “this isn’t funny, billie. you’re just playing with people. like leilani. do you even care about anyone, or is it just... some game to you?”

she shrugs, unbothered. “you know you’re funny y/n, acting like you care, but you and i know that you only do what’s best for yourself.” her tone is casual, almost too casual. she takes the drink out of your hand and sips out of your red cup smirking as you look at her with disgust.

“ugh. you’re unbelievable,” you mutter, trying to shove your way through the crowd, the tension in the pit of your stomach getting heavier with every word.

billie’s voice follows you, teasing, but there's something else in her tone—like she’s trying to see if you’ll bite. “oh, come on. don’t walk away from me now, you can’t avoid me the whole night you know, oh and let’s face it you’re not the perfect princess everyone thinks you are.”

you freeze, your back to her, but you don’t turn around. “you really think that’s what this is about?” you ask, barely keeping your voice steady. “not everything is about you billie, you may be my boss but honestly i couldn’t care less if you fired me.”

for a brief moment, there’s silence. then billie’s voice cuts through again, quieter this time. “yeah, you say that now. but you’ll regret it later, what will your poor mom say when she finds out her perfect daughter got fired hm baby?”

you scoff before glancing over your shoulder to find a place to escape to. just in time you see aaliyah’s hand gripping leilani’s arm, pulling her away from the crowd. leilani’s eyes flicker with guilt, but she doesn’t fight it. aaliyah’s fury is palpable from across the room.

billie watches it all with a knowing look, like she’s seen this act before. but she doesn’t say anything, nor does she care.

you can’t help but feel a little unsettled as you turn back to face her, crossing your arms again, the air between you and billie growing heavier.

you’re not sure if you should leave, if you should just walk away from all this and ignore what billie said. but then you think of what aaliyah said, and the little flicker of doubt that runs through you. is this what you want?

you exhale sharply, the frustration bubbling up again, but you can’t find the words to make it go away. so you just mutter, “seriously, billie, just... leave me alone.” she raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “you sure? ‘cause the way i see it, you’re not exactly running away from me, pretty”

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @jayjaywetforbils @billieeilishismywifey @iamnicoke @st0nerlesb0 | send me an ask if you want to be added to my taglist!

[merakiui]

AAAAA ok so. You're one of my favorite authors here on Tumblr and slkssnlssksn I'm so nervous waaaa thanks for taking your time to brainrot with us <3 I'm in love with your writing and your delicious concepts and how you execute them oh god and when you write about stinky greasy incel Idia OK I'm gonna stop and actually order aaa

Can I please get assorted macaroons with a lacy lingerie along with a hint of sea salt caramels and a finishing touch of a pineapple parfait with Floyd and Jade, together? Something sweet and cute but with a lingering feeling of uneasiness <3 Hope it's well-ordered! Please and thank you very much!! 🥹

yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x yandere!floyd leech cw: yandere, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, drugging, implied captivity, brief mentions of implied nsfw, obsession note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ᴊᴀᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ & ꜰʟᴏʏᴅ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

☆ Your “wedding” was unofficial, a quiet ceremony without an audience. Jade dressed you for the occasion, prettying you up as if you were a doll. You certainly felt so as you watched your reflection in the mirror, drifting in and out of a daze. Floyd poked at your shoulder to rouse you, giggling about his “sweet, sleepy Shrimpy.” When the wedding bands were slid on your ring fingers—the left for Floyd and the right for Jade—it became official. They kissed you on both cheeks and promised you a future filled with love and happiness. You couldn’t protest; there was no room for such a thing, not when Floyd’s mouth was already closing over yours.

☆ The first five days are for Floyd, and the next five will be Jade’s. They planned it together, all with your and their shared interests in mind. The first five days of your honeymoon are spent at a tropical resort. You delight in local cuisine and beautiful sights, allowing the twins to hold your hands while you walk between them. They spoil you rotten, buying all sorts of clothes and jewelry to add to your wardrobe, trinkets that catch your eye, sweets you seem to fancy. Money has never been an issue, which is why everything feels so grand and lavish. You’re taken to the beach, to a quiet, desolate strip that few tourists know of. Towels are laid out; an umbrella is propped. Floyd drags you towards the sea, eager to shed his human form and swim with you. Jade reads in the shade, occasionally glancing up from his book to watch you.

☆ As the sun shifts through the sky, you tire yourself out. Between swimming with Floyd, sunbathing alongside Jade, and indulging in a picnic with both, you’re plenty sluggish by the day’s end. They snap your picture just as you feel yourself falling, giggling to each other about how cute you look. The twins intend to capture many of your best (and possibly worst) moments during the entirety of this honeymoon. When the secret contents of your lunch catch up to you and render you sleepy, you assume it’s just the result of a long day sapping your energy. It makes you pliable, has you dragging them into bed when you’re oscillating between slumber and wakefulness. The camera shutters, capturing you curled up against Floyd in bed—perfectly, peacefully asleep.

☆ The twins take turns cooking for you. Mornings are for Floyd. He prepares all types of breakfasts, all with your favorites. You think he has too much fun in the kitchen because some meals are decorated cutely—pancakes looking like cats and bears and fruit cut into stars and hearts. Jade takes care of lunch and snacks throughout the day. They work together on dinner. It’s a guarantee that you’ll always feast on delicious meals regardless of which twin cooks. Strangely, the meals are so delicious that they leave you sleepy or, in some cases, achingly hot. The twins take good care of you whenever this happens. Maybe something just didn’t agree with your stomach… It’s nothing to worry about. They’re here for you.

☆ As the days wear on, you find yourself swamped in love. Whether you’re enjoying mornings down at the beach, exploring and shopping in town, touring popular destinations, or enjoying drinks on the balcony at sunset, the twins are always by your side. Floyd clings, his arm perpetually wrapped around your waist. Jade likes to slide his hand into yours, holding it with such a gentle fondness. He kisses your knuckles softly, eyeing the rings on your fingers with a pleased smile.

☆ Jade booked quite the quaint cabin for his half of the honeymoon. For the next five days, the three of you will see endless, sprawling pines from your spot in the mountains. He’s got a vague itinerary in mind, but it’s subject to change as you get through these five days. Surprises are more than welcome. The cabin is so cozy, equipped with all the necessities for a trip such as this one. It even has a fireplace. Jade is much too eager to gather and chop firewood even though it’s already supplied.

☆ He takes you out on hikes through the woods, pointing out flora and fauna as you encounter them. His eyes are sparkling the entire time. Floyd’s not as into it as Jade is, but he does enjoy walking alongside you and taking pictures of your most candid moments. You’ve been feeling groggy ever since breakfast, so you’re not nearly as alert as you usually are. Floyd takes this as his opportunity to snap your photo when you least expect it and to steal quick kisses. Jade thinks it’s so cute that you can hardly keep your eyes open. He promises the lot of you will turn around and head back after he gathers just a few more mushrooms for tonight’s dinner. You’re lying down for a nap by the time you make it back, the sun dipping below the horizon. You think you feel the bed depressing under Jade’s weight, his hands ghosting over your clothes to help change you into something comfortable. You let it happen.

☆ This place is oddly isolated. The locals are sweet, though. When Jade tells them you’re here on honeymoon, they all smile and tell you to have fun, to enjoy these special moments, to feel lucky that you have two husbands who adore you so very much. You thank them with a pleasant smile. Jade and Floyd keep their hands on you beneath the table during lunch. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. They make sure of that. And if you seem paranoid, they wave it off casually. Jade tells anyone who asks that you just love the variety of mushrooms here, especially the fun kinds. You’re not sure what he means until much later when you’ve digested your meal and your vision blurs. Jade’s there to steady you before you can fall over, petting your head in that affectionate way and cooing at you to calm down. It’s your honeymoon. You deserve to relax. His sharp, overly sweet smile is all you see in your dreams.

☆ Honeymoons are especially exciting because they come with amenities fitting for the occasion. A complimentary bottle of wine, luxury chocolates, condoms… Floyd tosses that last one aside. You won’t need them. If you insist on using protection for whatever reason, Jade will ease your worries with a placid smile. He’ll indulge your request. He wears one, yes, but then it’s not a guarantee that this one hasn’t been tampered with in some way. You’ll never know. Floyd’s a bit more difficult to convince. He adores cumming inside and then felching it out of your slick hole. You shiver through it all, clawing at the sheets as you melt beneath them. Your husbands pamper you excessively, so don’t think about anything and just enjoy yourself.

☆ The mountains are peaceful. Unlike the tropical paradise you previously came from, things are slower here. You enjoy watching the sunrise cut through the trees in the mornings, sitting at the window with Jade and Floyd. You sleep late into the afternoon, sandwiched between both of them. Floyd’s an early riser, so breakfast is always waiting for you when you and Jade eventually wake. It’s quiet bliss. You sit and sketch nature alongside Jade in the afternoon, who adores every little line you make with your pencil. He tells you so, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth when you pout and insist his is better. There’s no competition here, and even if there was he will always love yours more. When night falls Floyd prepares a campfire. You roast marshmallows for s’mores. Floyd dances around the firepit, singing gleefully and pulling you up from the log to dance alongside him. Firelight reflects off of your rings. It’s a wonderful honeymoon.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

All's Fair in Love and Kitty Cards:

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓐𝓻𝓮: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓕𝓪𝓵𝓵

❥ ┊𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; You've decided to bring home an electronic board game of kitty cards, and make the oh so simple suggestion of playing strip kitty cards to entice your work weary boyfriend Zayne into trying it out with you. After all, you're THEE Queen of Kitty Cards herself- it's not like you could lose, right?

❥ ┊𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; bullet fic format (sorry, don't have the energy to devote to full fic rn 😅), reader referred to as you/your and she/her, this one really got away from me omf it's longer than I mean it to be eek, not proof read, written in a whirlwind bc this idea would not leave me be until I got it out, not full smut but very suggestive, just good ol' fashioned romantic fun. Zayne thinks you're hot ♡

Yes, I will be doing Xavier and Rafayel as well

Zayne rarely got too serious with kitty cards. He'd rather watch you have fun than engage in a real competition. Your smile and serious expression were far more entertaining than any game, and the delighted light in your eyes after a victory (no matter how wide or narrow) was always his most welcome reward.

That was, until you brought home that new electronic board game version, setting it up before he'd gotten home and surprising him with it only moments after he'd taken off his shoes and coat.

At first he wasn't that interested. I mean the cats where half the fun of kitty cards lets be real, plus he was tired.

But when you suggested (with a wicked little glint in your eye that had his heart stop momentarily, mind you) that you guys play strip kitty cards, he stood there blinking in silence for a solid 15 seconds, just processing.

"How upset would you be if I won, though?" He carefully asked once he finally came out of it, that little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. God he can be so smug sometimes.

You of course tell him that you're the literal Queen, Her Meowjesty the First, and this is your domain. You demand he put respect on that name and remember it well.

You'd come to eat those words later.

The first round you win easily. Just like every game before, it would seem the kitties favor you above all else (why wouldn't they, you were their Queen after all). He gives a soft chuckle, removing his vest and placing it over the back of his couch. "Round two, then?"

Round two seems to take a similar route. You almost feel bad for Zayne. He's always been a bit of a pushover when it comes to kitty cards, and as you fill the final cup cementing your victory 23-10, you watch as he loosens his tie tossing it aside and removing each sleeve garter, laying them on the table next to his vest chain. Zayne doesn't say anything this time, only watches you as you reshuffle the cards and get the board cleared for a new game.

Round three is where you finally start to feel him trying. It's a bit like reeling in a fish. You feel like you're making some headway and and then he'll pull out a Bye Bye on your double point kitty, or use a Purrcieve and discard your pink 6 kitty when there was an open pink cup. Nothing earth shattering- you could and did still wipe the floor with him, but the way Zayne watched you over the tops of his cards as he did so started to make you feel... vulnerable, despite all your layers.

When he finally sheds his third layer- his shirt- you realize all too late that you've fallen into the spider's web. With his broad, muscled shoulders, sharp collarbones that crowned his perfect pecs, and strong biceps corded with beautifully laced veins that traveled down his scarred forearms to his large hands that currently rested against those masterfully made lats and abs and.... oh.

Oh no.

Zayne catches you staring (how could he not, honestly. You were practically drooling), and regards you with that little quirk of his lip and raise of his brow. "Everything alright? Ready for round 4?" Worry starts to eat at you when you realize he doesn't sound at all worried. He's already shirtless only 3 layers from being completely nude, and he sounds like he's already won.

Not one to accept defeat so easily, you swallow, set your expression in determination, and deal the cards.

And yet

4 rounds later and Zayne had yet to remove another article of clothing.

Your clothes (and your dignity as The Queen) lay tossed about the room in a perfect metaphor for your current emotional state.

This man. THIS MAN. Despite all your usual tricks and banter, Zayne had refused every single one of your pleas to trade cards. No amount of begging or bargaining would be accepted tonight, and during your last attempt he'd made it very clear that should you ask again, he'd put the game away since you obviously weren't interested in actually testing your skills.

So here you sat. In your bra and panties, your metaphorical crown plucked from your head and reshaped into a dunce cone.

The kitties had forsaken you.

It had started out so well, but once that shirt came off it was suddenly so hard to focus. You'd find yourself watching as he'd roll his shoulder, gazing as his chest or ribs expanded with a particularly deep breath. Let your eyes linger on each and every scar that dappled his hands and forearms. Watch his Adam's apple bob as he'd take a particularly long drink of the water at his side.

Honestly, it seemed like the more layers you lost, the harder he was to ignore as well.

Little did you know the absolute torment this man was going through on his end.

Sure, setting the trap was easy enough. You were always so sure of your kitty card playing ability, and he so rarely put up a fight when you begged for mercy. However, turning your pleading down each time as you sat across from him in less and less clothing, looking at him with those big teary eyes was threatening to completely undo him. Listening to you whine his name and watch as your perfect lips pouted so full and glossy in the lamp light was too much, he couldn't take it.

You and your games would be the death of him, surly.

Round 6 is where his empire fell.

Your defeat was swift, of course. Zanye had struck gold with 4 Meow This in his hand, and pulled a complete shut out. It was like in the movies when the character watches in slow-mo as their impending death rushes towards them, and as you were left with no number cards to fill the last cup on your turn, you watched as Zayne placed his.

"I believe that's another win for me." His tone was proud- joyful, even. Typically one of your favorite expressions he made, if you were being honest. Something about Zayne's smug, rather cocky attitude really got you going sometimes, and sitting here for the last hour, ogling his shoulder and arms and hands and abs... well... that hadn't been helping the literal ocean between your thighs either.

Your silence (and likely the deer in the headlights expression you wore) spurred a warm chuckle from him, the sound both rich and comforting, yet still strange enough to snap you back to reality.

"I believe I've earned my next reward, correct?"

Oh... this bastard. This beautiful bastard.

Puffing your cheeks at him in a pout, you consider accusing him of cheating (partially in jest, you know he wouldn't, but also why is he SO DAMN GOOD all of a sudden??), but in the soft glow of the lights, your eyes catch his, and you see something darker. Immediately, your heart begins racing, skin prickling with the familiar feeling of anticipation in battle.

Wait, in battle?

This wasn't the first time you'd have taken your bra off in front of Zayne, so why did you feel so much like... prey in this moment? As your hand slowly reached behind you to find the clasp, it was apparent you weren't the only one feeling the weight in the air. The subtle creak of the couch let you know he'd leaned forward, eager to watch and enjoy the prize he'd rightfully won.

"What are you waiting for?" The subtle tilt and bob of his head mirrors the quick uptick at the corner of his mouth, a motion you're so familiar with by now. A playful gesture of his, reserved for those moments when he's feeling particularly teasing or goading.

It only stokes the fire in you, of course. The amber hues in his green eyes, further illuminated by the warm lamplight, bore into you despite his otherwise neutral expression.

With a flick of your wrist, the clasp is undone. You consider playing a bit, slowly sliding the straps down to tease and tempt, maybe using your arms to cover what he desired to see most. Surely he deserved a taste of his own medicine after obliterating you like this tonight, but his intensity is already near suffocating.

Instead, one at a time, you slipped your arm from each strap, and gently placed it at your side. The moment you felt the chill air hit you, it was audible that he'd noticed.

Oh sure, he tried to keep quiet. Tried to stop himself from letting out that small, strangled gasp when he watched your nipples pebble. Tried to still his thundering heart when your reactive shiver cut across you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Tried to stop himself from whispering your name in a thick voice, telling you how beautiful you looked in the warm-glow lighting. At least he managed to temper his hand and hold it back from palming his quickly stiffening cock. Thank God for the small mercies.

His reaction was so much more than you'd been expecting. You'd been nude plenty of times before, like showering together, or that time you'd shared a hot spring once on vacation. Not to mention all the THE SEX. But this??

He had your body memorized at this point, but watching you strip layer by layer as you lost each round was really doing it for him?

The way his voice caught when he said your name, the way the muscles around his ribs stretched and relaxed as he took deep breaths to calm himself, the dilation of his pupils as his eyes trailed you from navel to nose, finally making eye contact after a lengthy pause on your lips.

Zayne might have been winning at kitty cards, but you were starting to get the feeling your luck was about to turn around.

"I forfeit." His normal, rational tone returns, albeit with great strain.

You sputter out a few expletives, dropping the stack of cards you'd started to shuffle. "What?! But we weren't- I was going to- I didn't even get to-!" Too many thoughts at once try tumbling from you, tangling on your tongue. How dare he! I mean sure you won, but a victory of forfeiture was hardly a victory worth bragging about.

Standing from the couch you watch as Zayne extends a large hand towards you, that same hungry look in his eye again that has you feeling small and vulnerable, and reminds you that you're very exposed.

"I've had my fun hunting the hunter. I think it's time I reward her for her win."

ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈᵎ ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈᶦⁿᵍᵎ

[hibiscusseaart]

ok so i have some Tobirama thoughts cuz i watch Naruto rn and over analyzing everything

but whatever i need this character study to get my characterisation of him straight.

So basically I just thinking over what an ass Tobirama is towards the Uchiha clan

and a disclaimer: i love Tobirama he's my fav, I just want to understand him better and PLEASE share your own opinions too! i feel like im making a whole paper on him or smth

Tobirama was basically "I separated Uchiha in their own compound from the main cast of the village and ordered them to make a police force (and everyone knows how people "love" cops, especially in military settlement) not because I hate them. They're just dangerous and prone to mental instability (thinking of Madara much? Dude if ppl feel love intensely, and you don't, it fucking doesn't mean they're mentally ill). But I know some good Uchiha (Kagami who was under his command?? and Itachi who massacred the whole clan for the village????) so I don't hate Uchiha."

Like okay, he doesn't hate hate them, but he IS prejudged af. As much as I like to read stories where he isn't like this and kinda more forgiving, in canon he is an ass.

And honestly it makes sense for Tobirama to be like that (I'm not defending him, I'm just trying to lay his thought process down). Like he fought with Uchiha for most of his life and he doesn't have pink glasses on his nose like Hashirama. He knows they're dangerous and he learned to mistrust them since they're enemy.

And he has his own theories about Sharingan, but basically he thinks that bitches are so sensitive, they can't handle a little hurt and loss.

I honestly think that he's wrong, like I think Sharingan awakens by high levels of stress (maybe cortisol levels shoot up suddenly?) Tobirama is only one man who tried to understand that and he barely interreacted with Uchiha personally.

Ok i just found this but bitch really came up with this theory based on rumors. Dude, please stop spreading misinformation.

Though we don't know their medical progress at this point, so maybe he really didn't know? Like he didn't have enough medical knowledge to get this theory straight. He has his special interest in making jutsu and you don't need to know people well enough. You just need to know how to kill them effectively.

Also, dude, if you (or maybe Senju in general) don't react as strong as the Uchiha, it doesn't mean they're mentally ill or cursed.

Oh and Tobirama thinks he's done GOOD for Uchiha. I mean his brother thinks it's slight for the Uchiha to get separated, living near prison and being avoided by village since they're the police force, but for Tobirama it's a job well done cuz it helped the village. He's a practical man who doesn't even think about feelings like that.

I think with Konoha he kinda played the game like SimSity but IRL. Optimised and used the resources he had to do the best working village. You don't think about sims' feelings when you make them pay higher taxes or make them live near dumpster just cuz you think it's okay and they will manage, right?

Before it was his brother to care for this kind of stuff. But then he died (how the fuck btw? I hc it was a disease but damn in some timelines he died when he was like 42 but damn WHAT could've killed The God of Shinobi) and Tobirama stayed alone. I assume his family wasn't much help and they had a 1st war near, so Tobirama had to work fast and efficient.

just a funny strip "You don't know him like I do"

I think Tobirama was also offended at Madara since he tried to destroy the village he put a lot of work into (lets be real, Tobirama doing most of administrative work is basically canon, not a headcanon, it sits way too right)

Plus I think Tobirama like many people was impressed + scared of Madara. Like he's crazy strong and ofc you're afraid, I get it. But Madara is an exception, not the rule. He's just a freak of nature + I think being Indra reincarnation had its influence too. It's not the whole Uchiha clan, but Tobirama judges them like he'd judge Madara.

Maybe he's a bit paranoid. Understandable since being a ninja and it's what keeps you alive, but this lack of trust really showed through all of the history between Tobirama and Uchiha clan.

Okay maybe hc territory, but I think Tobirama doesn't get emotions much in general. He's very autistic coded and, being on the spectrum myself, I can get where he's coming from. I trained my empathy cuz not having one is considered wrong. Tobirama probably didn't cuz no one told him to or he didn't consume this type of content in his childhood (i trained myself by cartoons lol). He cares, but he doesn't get feelings and makes these kinds of theories, based on rumors (damn dude fact check please).

Maybe since he doesn't get emotions much he's used to depend on other people in this regard? Like people start saying these rumors and he watches himself and is like "Yeah that seems possible" especially since Madara got his big drama time about Izuna. He has big feelings = has strong Sharingan. It is plausible.

I dont think Tobirama wanted to check it for sure, since 1) WHO will let the White demon near their precious eyes to help him understand how they work; 2) it's not his point of interest. he had village to run, jutsu to make, kids to teach. the bitch was busy and it's only 24 h/day

so yeah Tobirama had his reasons but he's an ass lol. like dude did start this chain of Uchiha slander and then when they were massacred he was like "Oh boohoo they self destructed what a pity" DUDE 😭

[arachnoia]

SOL HEAR ME OUT.

READER READING SOME TYPE OF SMUT OR LIKE FIFTY SHADES OF GREY SHIT AND MIGUEL FINDS OUT AND SEES... 😳😳

oh my, anon

i’ve also never read that series but like that’s such a good ask.

tags- nsfw/ some parts gon sound off but that’s a part of the story, jealous miguel??

—

You bit your lip and kept a steady focus on your tablet, processing each and every detail of the page you were reading. You pressed your legs together as you sat on the window sill of your shared apartment with your boyfriend.

You were reading a web series recommendation from Jessica Drew, who noticed you needed to read something exciting. According to her, you looked “in need of something spicy” or whatever that meant.

Exciting was a very interesting word to describe exactly what you were reading.

I moaned as I felt his throbbing tip tease my swollen clit from my panties.

“Take it off,” he said, his beautiful green eyes piercing through me, sending me even more over the edge as he kissed my neck.

“My god…”

You had gotten invested, reading each chapter precisely to take everything in. It was a good series with a very interesting plot line.

“Ya llegue, amor.”

“Uh huh…Hi, love.”

You most have been reading immensely to not notice your boyfriend open the door. More so when Miguel walks up to you and snatches your tablet, your eyes widening in fear. As much as you tell your boyfriend everything, this new interest should be kept secret.

A secret that’s about to be found out.

“What’s this?”

“Give it back, Miguel!”

You tried to grab it from him until his arms started blocking you and he raised it up with his right arm, “What is it?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and slinged some web to get it back, “Told you to give it back, O’Hara.”

He widened his eyes at what you said, “O’Hara?”

You turned around whilst gripping the tablet hard so he wouldn’t think to use his webs too. His face hardened and his lips were slightly pouted, fueling your want to tease him, “What about it, Miguelito? Why the face?”

His expression turned into one of annoyance as he shot at your tablet, “Porqué no te callas, Y/L/N. Let me see what you’re-”

He glanced at the bright screen and stopped to see what it read, which was showcasing a descriptive smut scene in all its glory.

“Take it off, he said, his beautiful green eyes piercing through me, sending me even more over the edge as he kissed my- Baby, I didn’t know you were into that…” He looked over at you with a dark smirk, everything he said dripping with sarcasm.

He walked over, making you bump into the kitchen counter. He snaked his right arm around your waist as he lifted your chin up to look at him with his left, “Is that what you want, baby?”

You gazed up at him, standing tall at his literal 6’9 height. You just stared at his lips, how full they looks and his fangs brushing on them as he spoke. The way he spoke too just sends you over the edge, having your heart beating faster.

“Me estas escuchando?”

You just nodded in a daze and smiled stupidly, “Of course, baby. I love listening-”

“Cállate”

It took you in such a state of shock as Miguel kissed you ever so passionately, his hands roaming your body as your legs became intertwined at his waist while you sat at the counter for balance.

“So querida, I hope you listen when I tell you to strip. Right now.”

You looked away and bit your lip, taking off your top and throwing it away from your already aroused figure. It wasn’t much but Miguel already looked like he wanted to devour you. The way he looked at you, his crimson red eyes piercing through you made you want to come already. He helped you by taking off your pants, only leaving you in your light blue panties.

"Chinga..." He muttered and smiled as he rubbed on your clit, earring a few breathless moans from you.

He turned off his suit and stroked his erected dick, already showing a milky ring of precum around his swollen tip.

“Vas a ver…I’m better than whatever book you’re reading. Or should I not procede?” He didn’t even have to ask as you nodded vigorously, having a need for him to fuck you stupid.

You gasped a bit as you felt his tip entering, “Fuck…Miguel.”

You felt your eyes roll as he started to insert his entire length in you, making you grip at the marble counter as it stretched you out. You felt your mouth go slightly agape as he thrusted with such force that it left you speechless.

“I’m gonna show you..Fuck!..right now��that whatever you’re reading…”

He leaned in closer to your face, “Is nothing compared to to how I can make you feel…”

He started caressing it gently in contrast to his rough thrusts.

Same thrusts that made it hard to actually say anything but look at him and his smug face as he knows only he could make you like this.

[burst-of-iridescent]

I’ve been reading a series where a guy is in a near identical situation to Katara was in The Southern Raiders. But what I find interesting is that no one really tries to stop him and the fandom considers it completely justified. I can’t help but think despite it being two different series and fandoms that Katara’s gender has at least something to do with this. When a male character wants to seek revenge and kill the murderer to do it, the narrative and fans justify it but when it’s a female character she’s vilified, seen as out of control and letting her emotions get the better of her. I hate when people say Aang was right to say what he did and try to stop Katara from making her own choice. It doesn’t help that we know Bryke is misogynistic based on well everything to do with their female characters post series after they didn’t have the talented writers who actually understood the characters helping them. And sure I know Bryke themselves didn’t write The Southern Raiders but we know from script leaks that there were more shippy Zutara moments that were cut and I think we know who’s to blame for that. So I wouldn’t be surprised if they still influenced the more problematic parts of that episode. Such as Aang and Katara never talking about or resolving their conflict, Sokka calling Aang wise beyond his years and never talking about or resolving his side if things with Katara, and even Zuko weirdly agreeing with Aang at the end that “you were right about what Katara needed.” Even though she literally just told Aang a second ago that he was wrong and she would never forgive him and doesn’t know why she couldn’t kill him. If you couldn’t tell I have rather mixed feelings about TSR episode.

Sorry for the ramble. How do you think their conversations (Katara, Aang, and Sokka) would go if they were to talk about it all after the episode?

oh misogyny definitely plays a part - just compare the way people react to inigo montoya from the princess bride vs katara in tsr - but i think the bigger issue is the overt narrative framing of the episode.

on a first watch, tsr appears to push a very simplistic idea of "violence = bad" and strongly favours aang's perspective, which encourages the viewer to see him as being in the right while katara and zuko appear to be in the wrong. the fact that aang never changes his perspective and both zuko and sokka are (forcibly and very uncharacteristically) made to take his side by the end naturally inclines the audience to do so as well.

it's only with a closer reading that you see a more nuanced take which highlights the flaws in aang's thinking and treatment of katara. katara herself makes it clear that what aang wanted her to do would not have helped her find closure, and she began her healing process without ever forgiving yon rha - which is exactly why i hate people attributing her decision not to kill yon rha to aang when she explicitly stated she did not and would not ever do what he wanted her to!

these are the same people who will also blame zuko for being a "bad influence" on katara, as if the only reason she hunted down her own mother's killer is because zuko convinced her to do it. katara isn't some weeping willow to be bent to the will of zuko and aang; her decisions are her own, not based on the whims of the boys in her life. can we please stop stripping katara of all her agency in the one episode that actually focuses on her trauma and healing?

rant aside, i do wish that katara had talked to sokka after this episode and i imagine there would be some apologising on both sides. sokka - a realistic sokka, because my god was he wildly out of character - would probably check in on her and admit that he was afraid for her safety and well-being. katara would likely apologise for the "you didn't love her the way i did!" remark and i think it would've been nice for them to finally talk about kya and for katara to bring up the conversation she overheard from the runaway about how sokka confessed to seeing her as a surrogate mother.

(imo the impact hearing that would've had on katara was largely downplayed in the show, and is likely part of the reason she reacted to sokka the way she did in the southern raiders, but that's a post for another time.)

the katara-aang conversation would probably have gone the same way that it did in canon, because the issues with their dynamic in tsr are part of the underlying problems with the kat.aang relationship in general. i would've liked to see aang have a little more of a reaction to katara saying she never forgave yon rha (he doesn't seem affected at all in the show), and for that to maybe prompt him to really reflect on what he said.

but ultimately what really has to be tackled here is aang's idealization of katara and his focus on clinging to air nomad values at the expense of those from the other nations - and those problems run too deep to be fixed in a single episode or conversation. the southern raiders would have been a good starting point, but unfortunately the finale never engages with these issues, and so what could've been a great arc ends up going nowhere at all.

[eggedbellies]

This is an idea I’ve RPd with people (and would love to again if anyone wanted to…) and i just cannot stop thinking about.

The idea of men, instead of carrying seminal fluid and sperm in their testicles, carried eggs. They’re small and unfertilized, but must be spent every month or they’ll grow larger and potentially cause complications. Public sex and public laying of these eggs has become acceptable.

You meet a guy on a dating website, purely for sex. He comes over, and soon thereafter you’re making out on the couch and he comes clean. He reveals a massive set of testicles, full of eggs, likely from 3 or 4 months of build up. He came over with the intention of filling you up with them. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and before you know it you’re being bent over your kitchen counter with his cock in your pussy.

It’s not long before he pauses, a groan on his lips as eggs start pouring out of him. You can feel them, one by one, as they stretch you passing through him. Your hand cradles your belly as it slowly grows with the eggs being placed inside. By the time he’s done (and you’ve cum a time or two) you have the belly of a 4 month pregnancy. You exchange numbers and he walks away.

About a week or two later, the eggs have grown and grown. You’re waddling around with the belly of a 10 month pregnancy with triplets. You feel the sexiest you have ever felt. But, the time has come to lay your eggs.

You go to a public park, set up underneath a tree in the back, and strip. You’re completely naked, legs spread open, and start to push. The eggs come one after one, much larger than when they went into you. By the time you’re done, you’ve laid 30 unfertilized eggs. A small crowd has gathered to watch you, some men slowly rubbing their cocks. And among the crowd is the man who put the eggs inside of you in the first place, ready to put another clutch in you right then and there.

(I held onto this one a while just to keep reading it ngl. god.)

I'd heard of men who did this. It had never held much interest to me, before; sure, I'd been tempted, now and again, in a few relationships, to take their eggs - but I was always a little shy. And I always had work, or maybe personal hangups... maybe that was why I'd never held a relationship for long. And those strange guys, the ones who liked their balls being packed and tender, who wanted to stretch people out... I'd never really understood until I met him.

And they'd looked so good on him, so heavy and full. Slapping against my clit with each thrust. The stretch, god, I'd never felt anything like it, and with the noises he and I were making, it felt like animal breeding. He must have loved it as much as me. How my shirts didn't fit quite right, forced to wear loose jumpers until I could get some maternity wear, the fascinated stares of people clearly wondering how I could possibly be so late term and yet not have them already...

I'm glad it's summer, because even my normal tops are rapidly becoming crop tops. It's hard work to heft my body about. Everything has widened to help with the weight. People come over and ask how far in I am and I try to be vague but not moan whenever they ask to rub and feel the clutch (and I can't help but say yes.)

As the last egg is popping out, and bystanders come to help scoop up the clutch, offer to call my partner, take me to the hospital, whatever I need, I shake my head. I know what I need. Call him from the crowd. There are murmurs, of course, but my body is still shaking with pleasure. We drop the clutch off. Waddle home. Pin him to the wall, all mouth and tongue, biting at skin and clutching at each other, drag him upstairs... and grasp his cock firmly.

Before clipping the cage around it.

Because these last few weeks, I realised just how good that felt. And I grin, even as his eyes widen in alarm. "How long did you wait last time?" I whisper against his neck. "Four months." he murmurs back. "I think we can wait for six." I grin, stroking his balls, before stepping back and admiring how good the cage looks on his thick cock. "Then we can see how big I can really get, hm?"

[flamesofday]

The cold had long since settled into his bones.

Lucien’s arms burned from the weight of his own body, chained above him, his wrists raw and bleeding where the iron bit into his skin. His legs trembled, barely able to hold him upright, his bare feet slipping on the damp stone beneath him. Water dripped from the ceiling of his prison, the scent of stagnant lake water thick in the air, clinging to his skin, to his hair, to the tattered remnants of his shirt. He had nothing left—not his weapons, not his jewelry, nothing of the life he had lived before. Koschei had stripped him of it all.

Lucien clenched his fists, feeling the burn in his shoulders, the ache deep in his ribs where they had beaten him. He tried not to think about how long he had been here, how many days had passed in this dark, airless hell. Instead, he thought of her.

Elain Archeron.

He tried to remember the way she had looked the last time he saw her, the way her lips had parted as if she had something to say—but hadn’t. The way her hands had twitched at her sides, as if she had wanted to reach for him. Had she? Would she now, if she knew where he was? Or would she turn away, untouched by his suffering?

Lucien sucked in a slow, shaking breath, pressing his forehead against the damp wall behind him. He didn't understand why. Why this had happened, why Koschei had taken an interest in him. The ancient death-god had merely smiled when Lucien had asked, a knowing, slithering thing that made his skin crawl. There had to be a reason. There was always a reason. 

Koschei had given him an ultimatum—Elain or him. Lucien hadn’t hesitated for a second, stepping forward. Even as the ancient, malevolent being had smirked, offering promises of suffering and pain in exchange for Elain’s safety, her life. Lucien had known without a doubt what needed to be done. He had felt her heart—her kindness, her strength—and he knew, deep in his bones, that he could never allow her to fall into Koschei’s hands. Not like this. Not when he could stop it.

The world had blurred after that, the moment when he stepped forward to offer himself in her place, but the words were clear in his mind: I love her.

Lucien didn’t know what was real anymore.

His head lolled forward, his breathing shallow, each inhale rattling against bruised ribs. He had lost count of the days. Or perhaps time had stopped entirely. It was getting harder and harder to tell. Pain was real, everything else was….debatable.

Sometimes, he was at the market with Elain, the scent of fresh bread curling through the air, her laughter ringing like chimes as she teased him. He would catch the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention—soft, thoughtful, like she wanted him. Other times, they were at a ball, playing a game just between them— twirling beneath the glow of faelight. Her hand in his, warm and delicate. She would tip her head back, smiling up at him, golden-brown eyes alight with something he ached to name, something he wanted to believe was real. Mate. But then, the ball would melt away, the market would dissolve, and he would be back here. Chained. Bleeding. Drowning in shadows thick as tar.

Koschei’s laughter slithered through the darkness, a sound that dug into Lucien’s skull, wrapping around his thoughts like a vice. Which is it, fox? The voice was everywhere and nowhere all at once. Did she ever look at you the way you hoped? Did she ever reach for you? Or did you make it all up, weaving your own little dream from scraps of longing?

Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. No. He had felt her touch, had heard the way she said his name, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him. Hadn’t he?

Hadn’t he?

But then there were the nights when she wouldn’t look at him at all, when she stood so close to Azriel, their bodies angled toward each other as if the space between them belonged to no one else. There were the times she had stiffened at his presence, the times she had fled a room rather than speak to him. Which was real? The warmth? The hesitation? Had she ever wanted him at all, or had he been so desperate for her love that he had twisted the truth into something more palatable? Lucien’s head throbbed, Koschei’s whispers threading through his thoughts like poison. He gritted his teeth, forcing his breath to steady. He had to hold on. He had to believe in what was real. “She loves me” His voice was raw, cracked. “Elain loves me” Lucien felt his heart ache, the words straining. “Elain is mine” Koschei's voice crawled over him, mocking, insidious.

Is she?

The words slithered into his mind like a slow-moving venom, winding around every fragile truth he had left. Lucien clenched his teeth, pulling against the chains, but they did not give. They never did.

Koschei laughed, a low, rasping sound that echoed off the damp stone walls. You sound uncertain, fox. Tell me—does she whisper your name when she sleeps? Does she reach for you in the dark? Or are you merely a shadow in the corner of her heart, forever waiting for a place that was never yours? She enjoys the company of another...

A flash, a private moment shared between two. Elain and— Azriel. Near a doorway, with hushed whispers and stolen touches as he put something on her. What was that? Oh. Elain tilted her head, a slow smile on her lips. The other learned, as if to meet her halfway.

Lucien’s chest heaved. No. No. He wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. But the doubt was there, curling its way into the cracks of his resolve.

Koschei’s manipulations grew sharper, more insidious, as he twisted the memories that had once been so clear. Lucien felt his heart twist when an image of Jesminda appeared before him—her laugh, the way her smile had always seemed just a little too eager, too bright in her attempts to win him over. The dark god’s voice slithered into his mind, coaxing, She was your mate. She was the one you loved. You never loved Elain, it was Jesminda who had your heart. She’s the one who truly cared for you.

Lucien recoiled at the thought, feeling a ripple of confusion, but he knew better. Jesminda had never made him feel the way Elain did—never had her love been something that lit him up from the inside, something that made him feel whole. He had been caught in a storm with Jesminda, uncertain of his feelings, but Elain… Elain was a calm, a quiet, steady force in his life. Koschei’s whispers faded against the growing certainty in his chest. Jesminda had been a fleeting part of his life, a passing connection, but she was never the one for him. Elain was.

Lucien clenched his teeth, trying to silence the confusion Koschei stirred within him. I love Elain, he told himself fiercely, the words anchoring him even as the shadows of Jesminda’s image flickered before him. What color were Elain's eyes? No.

She is mine.

The deepest brown, warm as autumn leaves—doe eyes.

And yet —

He remembered. He remembered.

The cold stone beneath his feet. The damp air that clung to his skin. The weight of the chains cutting into his wrists. He was here because he had chosen to be. Because he had stood before Koschei, before that wicked, ancient thing, and he had offered himself in her place.

Elain.

His mate.

His love.

The woman he would never let suffer beneath this monster’s hands.

The memory was sharp, clear as sunlight through glass—Koschei’s grin, the cruel amusement in those ancient, fathomless eyes when Lucien had stepped forward, voice steady despite the terror that clutched at his ribs. Take me instead.

And Koschei had.

What color were her eyes?

Dark, like the floor of a shadowed forest—

Lucien had traded everything—his freedom, his power, his life, his sanity—for her. And he would do it again. A thousand times over.

Because Elain was his. And no matter how many lies Koschei whispered, how many visions he forced into Lucien’s mind, that was real. What color were her eyes?

Like Feyre's, Blue eyes, like the ocean before a storm, wild and deep.

No.

That's not Elain. Koschei couldn't take that from him too. Lucien forced his mind to grasp onto the image of her face, despite the haze that clung to his thoughts like a fog. Her curls, soft and wild, tumbled around her face, a halo of warmth he could almost feel against his fingertips. He held onto the memory of her brown eyes, those doe eyes that had looked at him with such quiet affection, a tenderness he hadn’t known before. And then, that smile—gentle and light, a secret only she shared with him, the one thing that felt real in this twisted, dark place.

Lucien lifted his head, blood dripping from his temple, his body shaking from exhaustion. “She loves me,” he said again, his voice stronger this time. A vow. A truth that Koschei could never take from him. “The vow I made was for her.”

@bloomingvision

[nobodyexpectsthe]

also!! i'm gonna get sappy for a minute.

there's like no higher praise for me than hearing pirith sounds / feels realistic.

one of the most important things to me in writing is that the characters have flaws that come from a real place and affect them in realistic ways. i want them to feel like full, complex creatures that are consistent at their core, even as i push and pull different details to fit them into different verses and scenarios.

the blog was originally made for a friend of mine who had a hawke and just wanted me to join the da fandom and i picked the inquisitor on a whim. pirith as a concept came from a fuckup in my playthrough, and that fuckup is what made him a character to me & not just a vehicle to experience the story through. as the game went on i got more invested to committing to choices he would make and enjoyed each and every time it blew up in his face.

and it did. often. varric's low approval conversation (which is really him warning the inquisitor that they're starting to sound a lot like anders) was a delight, as was everyone else crashing out about how this was the man their god chose. even as he argued with them that he was no such thing.

in his original default playthrough, his clan died before the mission with bull's chargers. and his new single-minded pursuit of having enough allies to stop corypheus lead to him choosing to save the dreadnought over the chargers. he felt he needed the numbers of a qunari alliance over his own men and even if it devastated him, he felt it was what he had to do. he was in a romance with bull, albeit one that was definitely more physical than emotional, and only really fell for him in their shared grief.

and trespasser provided some truly painful comeuppance for his callousness.

i have changed that since things fell into a slightly different order in this playthrough. the mission with the chargers happened first, when he's stressed about having enough allies but more hopeful about the world than he ends up being post-wycome. he didn't romance bull, he romanced dorian - whose heart he broke because by the time the romance scenes happened his people were dead and he felt it was his fault for being distracted. and by default on this blog he has romanced nobody - save for a potential one night stand if you wanted to play around with that.

he did have feelings for solas, who was the only companion who didn't tear a strip off of him for things beyond his control. but those feelings were never acted upon for the bond was both too precious to him to ruin, and because (mechanically) solas never showed any interest.

( i actually had to roll that decision back bc it was TOO SAD but in my heart of hearts he and dorian are on fucked up terms that probably don't get unfucked until he confesses that his clan is dead )

i want pirith as a character to be someone who walks the line between embracing his duty as a leader, because it's what he was raised to be, and resenting the new form it has taken and all it has taken from him.

there's a line that cassandra says in trespasser that feels so bittersweet with this in mind.

Cassandra: Being Inquisitor has brought you good things. Many good things. But only a few have been by your choice. Take what happiness you can from those, and do not let them go. That is all I meant to say. Advice from a friend, for the days to come.

being inquisitor took everything from him. his family, his friends, the quiet life he never wanted to leave. it gifted him with truths that meant he could never return to his people and fully be among them and their faith again. he loves for his companions deeply but he does not feel that they love him - they just need him and this power he never asked for.

but he has done his best to not let that show. just like he hasn't let it show that he has nothing outside of being the inquisitor, and that the rapidly approaching conclusion of the inquisition has thrown him into a crisis. part of him wants to disappear and return to the forests he never intended to set foot outside, relived to finally be liberated from this duty.

but a larger part of him dreads facing that he has no where to return to. the dalish are wary of him because he's the "herald of andraste". and he's noticed a shift amongst the elves in the inquisition that has left him feeling even more lonely than ever, because all of those who once pledged to join him when he returned to his people are suddenly standoffish and distant.

( bc y'know, agents of fen'harel. i haven't forgotten that endcard bioware. i know he wakes up one day and finds all the elves gone save for sera and has a breakdown about it )

and so he is ultimately relieved when solas appears and tells him the truth of it all. and not only that, he hears solas' plan and tries to join him - because he has spent all this time serving humans and human society and has found it wanting. restoring magic to the elven people sounds like a dream come true.

but solas refuses him.

and when he says he intends to destroy the world and remake the old one, pirith is both horrified and... relieved. because there's his next reason. his next purpose. the reason to keep waking up and fighting forward.

but there's that resentment again. because he knows solas wouldn't tell him if some part of him didn't want to be stopped. if solas wanted to do this unopposed he simply would, and he would let pirith die in comfort. by telling him there is an ending, he is forcing pirith to act.

this characterization ends up working towards a really twisted solavellan ending. because by veilguard pirith would be so singlemindedly focused on stopping solas that once he has, he has nothing else. no further reason to persist as the... thing he's twisted into.

like a spirit, denied his original gentle purpose - he is a monster. and no amount of good that did can scrub the sin from his soul, nor return him to what he was meant to be. all he can do is quietly exit before he becomes the next monster the people have to cut down.

anyway.

i deeply appreciate everyone being onboard with my nonsense & my take on the inquisitor.