#i dont even have to wish death on you like im just content and satisfied in the knowledge that you will be dead soon and no one will care
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someone just called me the n-word in my inbox for my COVID booster post which is wild. i..... honest to fucking God thought you guys were all dead already??
#man you must have watched so many of your buddies slowly helplessly and preventably die already. that must suck so much for you#i dont even have to wish death on you like im just content and satisfied in the knowledge that you will be dead soon and no one will care#it is your right to waste your time on earth! your impending demise is a comedy.#i'm not even Black. i am a white girl. with Black friends.#better u send it to me than them but good lord man.#i'd lock reblogs on the post if it wasnt like. important info. as is.... jesus on the cross i shall be I Fuckin Guess#racism#antiblackness#coronavirus
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Omg, i just read your dionysus fic, over indulgence, and holy shit, it was amazing! I really liked how you characterised him, and reader too, i just dont know what to say other than i absolutely loved it! I'd love to see more hades content! Maybe with Ares this time? He is always so smug, and somehow can be both very intimidating while staying super polite.... Im howwible with prompts, but maybe one where reader is a priestess of athena and somehow catches ares's attention?
I hope you don’t mind stuff rough. I hope this satisfies your want for Ares, Anon!
In the game, Athena and Ares don’t seem to really like each other all that much, so I figured any priest/priestesses or disciples of her would have been warned about him. It also made sense for me that many of those people would double as great warriors/soldiers skilled at defense, but also in battle overall.If you’re looking for something warm and soft, please turn back. I really can’t see Ares in a gentle light, and this fic will contain blood/bloodplay, biting, bruising, and Ares getting a kick of out it all. Dubcon only because Reader agrees to the conditions of Ares being able to take what he wants if they lose. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)
Tags/Warnings Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Combat, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex
Summary Reader - priestess and champion of Athena and fresh off becoming victor of a tournament held in honor of the gods - has an encounter with the most bloodthirsty god of them all: Impressed, Ares offers them a boon should they best him in combat - though if they lose, Ares may take what he sees fit.
Fic Friday
Shieldmaiden (F! Reader/Ares)
The day had been a long and arduous one, filled to bursting with adrenaline and quick-thinking. Oft enough, your days were composed of training or ceremonies, or helping those who sought aid from the temple to Athena you served. But dawn that morning had heralded the start of a tournament lasting till Helios drove the sun beneath the horizon once more. In a way, those who fell quickly were rewarded with a reprieve from the constant bouts, as even though the humiliation of defeat burdened them.
Even on the heels of victory, by the time the battles had concluded, you were tired and sore, marred with minor bruises and a few nicks and scrapes. It was nothing that a good night’s sleep and some poultices wouldn’t solve, though. ‘All worth the honor of winning such a tournament’ you told yourself. Unlike some combatants, you hadn’t killed an opponent, seeking to shed the least blood possible. Your efficiency had no room for excess. But no amount of hard-won praise and self-satisfaction could change that you were looking forward to curling up and resting until the sun rose on a new day.
Traipsing back to the temple in the glowing purple and red twilight, however, a voice caught your attention. “I must say, your performance today was quite impressive.”
To your credit, you didn’t jump or flinch away, becoming stock still and turning slowly toward the source of the voice. “Who’s there? Whom do I have privilege of impressing?” You asked cautiously, unable to strip all the irritation from your tone. You had patience remaining, though you were loath to chat with someone over your victory when you would much rather be in your bed.
Your eyes landed on a tall figure you somehow hadn’t noticed before - a man - stance regal and straight. Something about the posture gave off a sense of nonchalance as well. Clad in armor of ivory and gold, accented with long shards of black and the eerie glaring face of a beast on the chest plate, he radiated an aura of menace, accompanied by a bloodlust so tangible you could almost taste it on your tongue, hot and bitter. Eyes like smoldering coals plucked from a roaring hearth stared at you intently.. Combined with the simper spread over his lips, you couldn’t suppress the chill that raced up your spine.
Something in your gut twisted uncomfortably, and you resisted the urge to put a few more paces between the two of you. Even if it hadn’t been for the myriad weapons crossed over his back, or the impressive armor, the man would have seemed someone to be cautious around, someone you shouldn’t trust. Everything put together set you on high alert instantly, the instinct of fight or flight rising in your chest like a bird taking wing. Something primal shrieked at you that, for once, flight might be the preferred choice.
“You fight rather viciously for one under my dear sister’s wing,” the man mused, his tone light, but formal.
“I asked before - who are you?” you pressed again, not interested in mincing words. You didn’t like how easily he spoke to you or offhandedly disparaged your goddess.
“Oh, no hesitation to be found. Perhaps Athena neglected to impart all of her wisdom to you after all.” you bristled at the insult, taking a deep breath and trying to relieve some of the tension coursing through you. “I am Ares, and I desired to see the prowess of my sister’s little owl before my own eyes.”
‘Little owl?’ the nickname distracted you at first, thinking to the tiny owls often depicted accompanying your Lady, but you shook your head and dismissed the thought. You hadn’t the time to concern yourself with foolish nicknames. “Lord Ares? Well, I have no desire to see you, my Lord,” you said. With the revelation of his identity, you felt even more uneasy. Ares, god of war and death, who was said to bask in the bloodshed and chaos of man. Athena had been certain her followers knew well of her violent half-brother. “I may not have all of my Lady’s knowledge, but I am wise enough to keep my distance from you and the needless death that follows in your wake.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, wary of each word and wondering if he might take offense from your rejection. From the tales told, the Olympians never took well to being ignored or spurned, but to indulge in the company of a god like Ares was no more appealing a choice. The look on Ares’ face remained pleasant, the corners of his lips set in a smug smile, and he let out a quick puff of laughter that would have been pleasant, had it not come from him.
“What a pity. Although I do not believe that choice is yours to make, little owl,” he began, closing some distance between you. You followed his movements intently, concerned he might draw one of the swords from his back and set upon you with every step closer. “Surely you do not think yourself beyond the bidding of one god solely because you serve another?”
Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously at your sides as you considered his words. Ares was right, of course. Being a priestess of Athena did not grant you any protection from other gods - not unless she interfered directly. And that kind of divine intervention was a rarity. You avoided his question and changed the subject, though you doubted he would be redirected so easily. The God of War was no fool.
“What do you really want? I’ve little time for games, my Lord.”
“I wish to see your technique for myself. Show me how that passion and diligence fares against a foe more than mortal,” he elaborated.
The blood in your veins ran cold upon his admission and your heart thudded so hard you wondered if it was audible from where he stood. Battling a god was firmly on the side of things you wished never to do. “If you think I’m dull enough that I would willingly engage the God of War, then you insult me, my Lord,” you said stiffly, trying to suppress your trepidation from worming into your voice and failing.
“What is it I hear beneath your bold tone? I trust one of my dear sister’s bold little priestesses, one of her champions, even, is not afraid of all things?” Ares taunted smoothly. From the way his self-assured smile twitched upward, barely, you knew he was enjoying your reaction.
“Fear and caution are not the same thing,” you denied fiercely.
“True enough, but it is not caution what gives you pause. If it puts you at ease, little owl, I will not take your life.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you scrutinized him intensely, finding no sign of whether he was lying or being genuine. All you found in those bloody eyes and stony face was cold calculation and an insatiable lust for violence. “Why should I believe you?” you asked, face twisting suspiciously.
“Because, beloved by my sister or not, if I so desired to kill you, I would have done so the instant you denied my invitation and spoke to me so disrespectfully.” He talked of ending you so casually it made you shudder, and you cursed yourself for it immediately.
It seemed you had little choice but to indulge Ares in whatever game he had in mind. “And if I agree - what is the benefit to me?” Ares had promised he wouldn’t kill you, but you saw no other purpose to fight him. You still weren’t sure he wouldn’t just kill you, despite his promise.
“Is serving one of the gods not benefit enough for you? What a greedy little owl my sister has found.” Again, Ares taunted you. You wondered if he was trying to make you angry enough to divest your caution and sabotage your battle prowess.
“That’s not an answer,” you spat back. God or not, you were tiring of whatever he was doing.
Fortunately, Ares cut to the chase. “Very well, best me and you shall have whatever boon of me you wish.”
“And if I lose?”
“Then, I shall take from you what I decide most fitting.:
“But not my life,” you added, still skeptical.
“You have my word,” Ares insisted. “Besides, would it not be such a waste to douse a promising ember when it could kindled and made to burn all around it?” he added in afterthought and once again the implications of his words unsettled you. “Now, I trust we are done with these tedious negotiations, hm?” he prompted.
Steeling yourself and willing away the stiffness and fear bubbling in your chest, you nodded. Ares had decided what the outcome of the discussion would be before he first spoke. There was nothing more to be said - at least not with words. Eyes trained on the intimidating figure of the God of War, you retrieved the shield and blade slung over your shoulders. You brandished them both, falling into the stance you were trained to use.
Across from you - hardly half a dozen feet off - Ares drew a weapon of his own. The sight of the curved blade incited your fear once more. The black blade was a ghastly thing, wickedly sharp and emanating a thick, billowing red haze the color of viscera. It was unmistakably a weapon befitting a god, and it made something deep inside you want to turn tail and run. But you knew running would be fruitless - all it would earn you was a head-sized loss of weight between your shoulders.
At once, the both of you moved slowly, following a wide circle, two shadowy beasts in the fading dusk searching for weaknesses and flaws. All of your training and wisdom told you to wait, let Ares come to you and make the first move. But you weren’t sure your reactive way of fighting would hold up against someone of his calibre. As Ares had implied, he was no mortal, and you could only imagine the horrible strength and skill behind his blade.
Ares shattered the heavy stillness abruptly, darting forward and making a low arcing swing up toward you. There was no hesitation behind the blow and you had the feeling if you hadn’t stopped it with your blade, his falcata would have carved a clean line into your torso. Ares may have promised not to kill you, but he wasn’t above grievously injuring you. He gave you little time to think on his intentions, however, another strike quickly following when you knocked his sword aside.
You caught that swing as well, on your shield this time, and your arm stung from the force that rang through it. Blow after blow rained down on you, forcing you on the defensive almost constantly, and even then, many near misses made you tense and wide-eyed. Eventually, you found some rhythm to his assault, and Ares even paused, granting you a scant few seconds to breathe and think. Still, you needed to analyze what you learned quickly - your enduring method of fighting wouldn’t suit well against his relentless onslaught. You had fought aggressive attackers in the past, but their strength and ferocity paled compared to Ares.
Eyes flashing to and fro, following the tuck and arc of his weapon, at the same time searching for openings, you readied to strike. You would need to be swift, perfect in your timing, and hold back nothing if you wanted any hope of breaching his flurry of blows. You took your chance when his fuming blade glanced off your shield at just the right angle to slide away, instead of adding more to the numbness in your shield arm. Dipping down, you swept your own blade under his arm and up. The metal scraped past one of his pauldrons and up, and your eyes shot wider when the tip of the blade reached out towards Ares’ face.
A swift kick pushed you back, leaving you winded, and you looked back up quickly. Ares was standing in place, a small distance away, but close enough to observe small details. His blade upheld in one hand, smoking menacingly, he lifted his free hand to his cheek, brushing away the slick of blood oozing from a diagonal cut across his cheek.Your heart fell at the sight of how little damage you had done. After all that time, you had given him what was barely more than what a mortal mine might suffer from a shaving accident. It was an ill omen when you were so used to your blade striking true and dispatching opponents in only a few strokes.
“Oh, what a splendid surprise.” Your blood may as well have turned to ice. Not at Ares’ words, but his tone.
Beneath the refined and formal speech, something almost excited could be heard. You had the sudden dreadful feeling that indulging the God of War’s little game had been a terrible mistake - even if there was no other choice. Excitement was a chilling thing to hear from a being who adored violence and death. You had expected anger, perhaps, or bitterness that a mortal had drawn blood against him. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a shock he liked to bleed as much as he liked to bleed others.
“Perhaps I underestimated you, little owl. Such skill seems wasted protecting others, do you not think so?” Ares asked, the hint of excitement vanished.
An indignation bubbled up beneath your dread, understanding Ares had meant your talents better suited to bloody slaughter and resenting that notion. You bristled, snapping back at him. “If I agreed, I would have served from the start, wouldn’t I?”
Ares ignored your response, as if he hadn’t heard. “I have seen more than enough, little owl. Our duel shall come to an end now,” he declared confidently. Again resentment and terror warred with one another within you.
When Ares bolted forward again, you barely thrust out your sword in time and turned his strike aside. The eerie cloud emanating from the blade seemed to have increased, tendrils of it whipping about, framing Ares ominously and obscuring your vision here and there. He didn’t stop at a single blow, striking out again and again as before, but with much more strength behind the attacks. The thought that your weapon and shield or arms might shatter from the force if things kept up flitted through your mind, distracting you for the barest moment.
Ares’ blade flashed forward, and your shield was thrust away, spinning through the air before crashing down and clattering to the ground. In a lightning quick motion, before you could bring your blade in to force his falcata away, the edge was leveled to your throat. You fell deathly still, the icy blade faintly touching your skin. One false move or a twitch of Ares’ wrist and all would be done.
The war god moved closer, grabbing your sword hand cruelly and twisting your blade from your fist. The hand that had disarmed you snapped to your head, grabbing a fistful of hair at the root and making you hiss. He drew your head back and the painful pinch of his blade scarcely cutting your skin made your pulse quicken. A warm trickle crept down your skin. Held between Ares’ hand and his blade, you dared not even breathe too deeply, so close were you to both.
Burning crimson watched you keenly, blazing with triumph and thet still unquenchable lust for blood. The blood you seeping from the shallow cut on your throat encouraged that bloodlust to greater heights rather than sate it. The thought made the space between you and the god feel heavy, airless.
“You fought magnificently, little owl. A far greater challenge even than I had foreseen,” Ares praised, not bothering to draw his weapon back. The tension hanging in the air, in fact, seemed thoroughly amusing to him, alluring even. You gathered all the resolve you possessed, fighting to glare defiantly at him. There was no room to show weakness. “How lovely that look suits you. Fearful, yet masked in defiance, even in the very face of death,” he drawled. You wondered if the god enjoyed his own voice as much as he enjoyed bloodshedl. “Do you believe me a liar?” Ares asked coolly after a moment of unsettling silence.
“I-” you opened your mouth intending to disagree, to ensure him you believed him - even if you didn’t trust him in the slightest -, but something stopped you. “Yes.” As the word escaped, you cursed yourself.
To your surprise, Ares’ proud smile grew. “Such an unwise thing to say,” he mused, “Are you trying to provoke me, now, little owl?” he asked nonchalantly, applying the scantest amount more pressure to his haze billowing blade. You winced, but quickly corrected your expression until your focus was on Ares once more. “No matter, our duel is over. Now comes time to take what I deem ample compensation for my victory.” At last, Ares drew back and took his falcata with him, and you could breathe again.
The start of a cold sweat broke out on your skin, and you felt clammy, except for the hot, sticky trickle drying on your neck. You swallowed thickly, willing your tongue to obey you, and spoke again after a moment of recovery. “So, what do you want? Out with it.” you pressed, perhaps too demandingly for one whom had been in your previous position. Yet with the blade no longer threatening to carve your throat open, you couldn’t help the annoyance and unease that crept into you.
“Tread carefully, little owl. I spared you before,” Ares reminded you casually, though the sharp warning edge suffused his words. He would take your insolence only so far. “Continue to disrespect me and I shall take your words as invitation to grant you a most painful end.” He paused, slipping his dark blade back where it belonged, before turning to you. “As the spoils of my victory, this ought to suffice.”
In an instant, so quick you had no time to wonder what had come over him, Ares was upon you again. His hand, having previously disengaged when he took his weapon away, returned, entangling itself in your hair again and forcing you to remain still. Before you knew it, Ares stepped uncomfortably close, bowing his head and slashing his lips across yours in a kiss that was neither delicate nor considerate. It was a kiss fueled by strength, full of teeth and heat that left you in a stupor.
Ares didn’t bother with the tedious task of coaxing your lips open with his tongue, choosing to bite down viciously, and blood oozed out to meet him. It slicked his teeth and tongue and your mouth fell open in a gasp of pain, and Ares thrust his tongue into your mouth. It swept along your teeth for a moment, before wrapping around your own and fighting it into submission. A heady metallic taste washed over you as you futilely tried to win the war of flesh. Blood. Your blood. Mixed with the coppery flavor was something more subtle, spicy and earthy at once.
When Ares relented and pulled away, you strove for breath, the taste of him and your blood lingering in your mouth. But he had only begun, giving you little time to recover. You had long enough to question why you had kissed him back - or had you been trying to fight him off? - before he jerked your head back and inclined his faced further. His lips, hot and the barest bit sticky, met the curve of your throat. He swept down your skin, leaving angry bite marks and blotches in his wake, until he was nestled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unprotected by armor and bared by your tunic.
He bit down again. Harder than before, and his teeth sank into you, another rush of blood welling up.You couldn’t control the pained cry that burst from your lips. You were used to injuries from training or battle, yet hardly in such sensitive places, and almost never from someone’s teeth. It burned when Ares lapped greedily at the wound and you hissed. His free hand had curled behind you at some time you hadn’t noticed, pressing you forward, the unyielding planes of his chest plate and pauldrons digging into you uncomfortable.
A new sensation was blossoming beneath the pain, one that should have been utterly foreign and unthinkable, given the brutality Ares was treating you with. Maybe it was the burning, hungry expression in Ares' eyes as he looked up from your skin, lips tinged red. Or maybe it was the crushing embrace he held you trapped in. Or maybe the way he held you utterly compliant and vulnerable in his grasp. Or maybe it was all of those things combined that made heat fill you from your core and pool between your legs. A dangerous, confused lust was rising - one it would have been wiser to reject.
“Such splendid sounds, little owl,” Ares said, his voice lower, a wild delight tinging it. “I desire to hear more. Do not disappoint me.”
With a rough push, your feet left the ground, and you tumbled backward away from Ares’ grip, too startled and dazed from the confounding feeling brewing in your belly and the painful throbbing in your lip and shoulder to catch yourself in time. You grimaced when you met the ground, making to prop yourself up. But Ares followed you, shoving you down completely and pinning you there. Again, his armor prodded uncomfortably at you. Past the pleated leather folds attached to the armor torso, something still distinctly hard, but much warmer prodded at you as well.
When large hands groped at your tunic - somehow both callous and perfect - some degree of sense insisted you stop him. But others argued with it. They insisted there was no point, this was the spoils Ares chose to claim. You wouldn’t be able to stop him if you tried. One devilish voice even craved more. Your internal debate crashed to a halt when Ares jerked your tunic down, the faint sound of fabric ripping lost to you. His lips fell upon your skin again where the fabric fell away, biting and sucking like he was trying to devour you. Many of them stung, not all as harsh as the bite to your shoulder, but several more drawing blood or leaving the areas soon to bruise, painting your skin in garish colors.
More pained sounds left your lips, gasps and whimpers and groans, though mixing more steadily into them were noises that belied some twisted pleasure. A hiss that became a moan. A gasp that turned into something breathy and thick. Something was stirring more and more hotly within you, transforming pain into a muted pleasure and adding fuel to the embers smoldering between your legs and in your belly.
Ares’ hands were as greedy as his lips, groping and kneading unmarred skin, roughly grabbing at your chest, pinching your nipples and making you cry out pitifully. Before long, he had covered your torso, shoulders, and neck in darkening bruises and blood, teeth marks and scrapes. Pulling away until he was looming over you like an ominous shadow, you could still make out the satisfied look languidly spread across his lips. His eyes seemed even more fiery, near crazed, as if he were high on your blood and pain.
“Such a careful, focused beast in the heat of battle. Now look at you, little owl, stained and trembling,” he purred, and his tongue trailed over his lips, cleaning the crimson staining them. “How beautiful a sight. The color suits you well.” He grabbed at your tunic some more, gathering the bottom around your waist, meeting the neckline he had pushed down. “As fragile and easy to see through as glass. Ought I shatter you like it, then?” Ares asked, greedily taking in the even larger expanse of flesh revealed to him. You wondered if he meant to litter the rest of you in similar marks.
Your lips parted, and you didn’t speak for a second, waiting for the mental gears to turn. Your only choice was the illusion of it, so you may as well as pretend your answer meant something. “Break me as you please, Lord Ares,” you told him, surprised to hear how your voice sounded. Strain and breathy, and the realization strengthened the heat and wetness at your center you couldn’t deny, likely plain to Ares’ eyes with your tunic no longer guarding it.
“How bold a choice of words, little owl.” Ares sounded pleased, possibly having expected you to retort defiantly, or have no words at all. Yet you had indulged his words instead. He trailed a thick finger gingerly over your throat, tracing over your racing pulse. “It would thrill me so to watch the life bleed from you.” You believed him completely. There was no denying in different circumstances Ares would revel in your death. “Alas, I shall have to make do sheathing a different blade within your supple flesh.”
A hint of excited impatience shone through as Ares sat back on his knees, leaving you to lie waiting in the dirt for what he would do next. With an iron grip, he grabbed your thighs, lifting them both off the ground and splaying them over his pauldrons, on either side of the crossed blades on his back. The cold touch of his armor on your overheated, abused skin made you shudder, and you watched as he lifted the lappets of the armor.
Your eyes lingered on what had thrust against you from behind layers of leather before, and you swallowed nervously. Ares was endowed impressively and in the embrace of a gentle lover that might promise a minor discomfort, but pleasure overall. Ares had shown no intention to treat you gently though - the ache and throb from the aftermath of his attention reinforced that - and you were under no illusion he was going to change that.
The new hesitation must have shown in your expression, a dangerous thrill creeping onto Ares’ own face as he brought the head of his cock to your folds. You thanked the stars that his brutal attentions had somehow elicited a perverse hunger from you, soaking your core. Though you imagined he would have fucked you raw whether or not you were wet. In fact, he might have enjoyed it more that way. Fortunately, his dick slipped slickly between your lips, gathering some of your wetness and pushing against your slit.
Ares didn’t take his time entering you, nor savor the moment, bucking his hips forward and splitting your cunt wide. You arched your back stiffly and hissed, both at the awful burn from the way his cock stretched you and the surprising satisfaction from the overwhelming fullness. You drew deep breaths, trying to adjust to the thick intrusion, fighting the pathetic whines that threatened to spill out.
Ares didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, rutting harshly against you, calloused hands digging roughly into your thighs. He leaned forward, bending you nearly in half, far enough a tendril of his silvery white hair brushed against your stomach, making your skin jump. The stretch ached to be sure - it would have even if Ares had been more thoughtful - but caught up in whatever perverse mood electrified the moment, there was pleasure bleeding into the pain.
Pleasure from the way he filled you so completely, creating a delicious friction that made your gut heat and tense. Pleasure from the rough slant of his hips against yours and his balls slapping your ass. Pleasure from the renewed vigor and sting of his lips and teeth attacking your neglected skin once more. It was agonizing and mindnumbing and enjoyable in a way you couldn’t have had any hope of explaining, at least not in a right sense of mind.
Each hard rock of his hips and searing puff of breath against your skin wore away at what little pride you retained, if you could claim to have any scrap left, looking such a mess. You might regret the memory later, but in the heat of the moment, there was no time for regrets or second thoughts. There was only room to try and enjoy what Ares had claimed as his reward.
As your dignity shattered and disintegrated like dust, the heat of your body and between your thighs grew, until you cried out into the air, the pleasure finally rising high enough to meet the pain and break loose from your throat between whines and winces. One loud cry that twisted and broke from another especially vicious bite must have gotten to Ares, eliciting an answering sound that was deep and primal.
Continuing to pound into your cunt, Ares looked up from his savagery of your skin, eyes glittering with amsement and lust of multiple kinds. His hot breath rolled over your bruised chest and his silky words rumbled over you. “You ought to thank me for my mercy,” he growled, and amidst the pain and pleasure you laughed to yourself. Mercy for a war god amounted simply to not killing you it seemed, even if the alternative was marking your body viciously and claiming it for himself. “Go on, then, little owl,” he compelled you, puncutating his words with a harder buck of his hips that left made you shout.
You opened your mouth, at first only pants and huffs and whimpers broke away. You gathered the words on your tongue he demanded of you. “Th-thank...aah...thank you, Lord Ares!” you cried out, surprisingly yourself. “Thank you f-for sparing me.”
He seemed satisfied with you pitiful answer, shaky and broken as it was, though he remained close to your skin. His pace grew stronger, faster, and he drew his tongue over some of the more bloody marks he’d left behind, coating his tongue again in your essence. His eyes swept hotly over his handiwork, bordering on frenzied. “Is it not such a wondrous feeling, to break bleed so, little owl?”
The smooth, husky tone of his voice, though it spoke such sick words - words you would have rejected in another setting - drove your own fervor higher, the molten spring of tension in your abdomen coming to the edge of its breaking point. You responded without hesitation, mind bent only on the promised releasen. “Yes, yes, my Lord!”
No more words fell between the two of you then, only the primal symphony of moans, grunts, groans, and gasps, enough to be heard by any soul unfortunate enough to be passing nearby. You hadn’t thought Ares’ thrusts could become any crueler, but as he chased and neared his own release, they did, until each thrust stung, hurting almost more than they pleased. His hands still clenched around your thighs and you could only imagine the intensity of the bruises that would be left behind - perhaps even worse than the many peppering your neck and chest and torso.
Despite the pain, your cunt squeezed around him, fluttering erratically as you danced on that edge so, so close. Until at last, it burst. But not before Ares finished with a sound so dark and heavy and alluring it could be called inhuman. Your walls embraced him even tighter as his cum filled you to overflowing, hot and wet, and you screamed and cried into the darkness of evening that had taken over.
When all was still at last, youtruly began to feel the extent of the damage Ares had done. He didn’t remain atop you much longer, not seeming to need to catch his breath, and when he pulled out of you, you shuddered, feeling sore and empty. Already tired before Ares had sought you out, and even more so after your combat, you were completely and utterly exhausted. Lying there, each pound of your heart making the bites and bruises pound along with it, you wondered if passing out in the dirt was a viable option.
Ares didn’t concern himself with your thoughts, however, or whatever it was you intended to do now that he was finished with you - for now at least. He just looked down at you, tucking himself back beneath the lappets of his armor and looking no worse for the wear. “Farewell, little owl. Do take care. And consider what I have said,” he began. “Your talents ought be used for something far more satisfying.”
You didn’t answer, letting your eyelids slide closed for a minute. When you opened them again, you were alone and the air was still and silent. You begrudgingly sat up, preparing to tackle the ordeal of standing and making the rest of your way home and to your bed. You wondered how you were going to explain your state to your fellows the following day.
#writing#fanfic#areas#ao3#archive of our own#fic friday#update#weekly#request#anon request#tw: blood#tw: dubious consent
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when you are reading this rant take full offense its 2am here and im mad as hell
fair warning this post is long as fuck and has several arguments pertaining to specific peeves i need to rant about before i go crazy. if you're not interested just keep scrolling it's not hard it's literally the core of social media navigation
you know what? ima say it.
black flag is the best ac game and deserves more recognition than just pirate drinking jokes because:
nearly every named character (sorry burgess and cockram) has development and personalities. cant say that for that many others in other games.
not too much fucking shit to do in it (unlike uhhhhhhhh every fucking other game in the franchise. stop it. i dont need 500 treasure chests in arno's game he already has an excellent revenue with the cafe. i dont need a ton of side quests. i dont need 30+ chests per london burough. i dont need a million question marks on my map. i dont need all of egypt or greece to be littered with shit to do. fuck this.).
unlocking shit is so much easier. edward knows where every treasure chest is and doesnt pay for treasure maps. and literally unlocking shit is so much easier.
base is slept on. its fucking cool. its fucking fun. its fucking useful as shit. its fucking pretty as all hell. fuck you.
good story, fun story, great dlc, relatable story (unless youre some bootlicking cowardly rich cunt) emotional story but not depressing (unity im looking at your ending. origins stop killing children.), satisfying end.
i can do the combat with one hand. you know what that means? i can eat and drink without pausing. i can reply to text messages without pausing. i can pet my dogs and cats while playing.
main character actually has changed by the end of the game a vast amount. motherfucker, edward changed more in his antó mission than ezio did in his trilogy.
if you dont complete all objectives you still have a passing score on the mission. do you know what its like to be raised to only get good grades on stuff and see yourself getting a 60% on a thing thats supposed to be a pass time just because you forgot something.
the naval combat isnt hard you just need practice. also i know the hunter ship sucks in the first mission you encounter but literally drop your sails but hold the wheel. once its in view let go. swim to it. take out the crew. swim back. bada bing bada boom go oneshot the crew. incredible, you're safe now.
legendary ship battles are really fucking cool and my mom doesnt yell at me for killing a giant beast for next to nothing.
the sea shanties and tavern songs slap.
farm animal petting simulator. not forced to kill dogs (ac3, odyssey).
obviously its good if the other games are just gonna copy paste it.
ed's tattoos are sick.
edward is literally the first canon bisexual. he literally says so in game. he literally fucking flirts with blackbeard. he literally was a pirate. why the fuck do you think birate is such an accurate pun.
diving outfit.
thicc.
the female characters dont have titties all over the place. even anne's boobs arent that big, which is good considering she is underage. the same cannot be said for many of the women in ezio's games.
guess who has a solid, interesting, and realistic personality. not kassandra or alexios thats for sure.
he is NOT moved by man pain (ezio, connor, bayek) to carry out his missions. he didn't want to be poor, he wanted to be able to provide for his family. he is just carrying out his dream to sail a ship. when he starts being "good", he is doing it out of guilt and shame on his past self (what, self reflection? someone, teach jacob this term), not because "wahh my girlfriend/mom/child/family died :'(", he wanted to make it up to his lost friends by making them proud and doing what they wished he had done. his regrets are in not being a better friend while mary was alive, not seeking out her killers (guards at fort). thatch's death crushed him, but he didn't thrust his anger on seeking revenge. and the characters that did die? they had personalities and development and were interesting and memorable. i cant tell you shit about cristina.
he is very respecting of women, especially for a white guy from the 1600s. he, as a teenager (under 17 i believe), attempted to save a woman he did not know and had no intentions of wooing (hey um ezio? you literally only were able to save cristina from being raped because you stalked her because you thought she was attractive. like thanks for saving her but uhh am i the only one that finds that creepy?) even though the odds of winning against three older men were stacked against him and he knew they could (and almost did) beat him to death. fuck if caroline wasnt there he would've been killed.
the modern day stuff is an excellent way to separate intense scenes and the little mini hacking games are fun puzzles. oh boohoo desmond isn't there? yes he was, half the things you hack literally give you desmond content.
rebecca's outfit fucking slaps.
from experience, its fun to play even if you dont know shit about the other ac games. pirates are cool and the story is easy to follow, just be prepared to find some of the other endings big letdowns or lots of the other games' missions boring.
is that fanservice that goes both ways but doesnt oversexualize any gender? why yes, it is!
stop reducing black flag to alcoholism jokes like yall constantly fucking do, it has so many other talking points and if you wanna make fun of something maybe choose something that isnt addiction. literally i make fun of edward constantly without pointing out his alcoholism it isnt that hard. if you're gonna make fun of edward for drinking rum when water in the 1700s often wasnt safe and making fun of him when he was depressed (he has multiple other intended self harming behaviors shown in game so no, he wasnt just drinking because its fun), why don't i see the same "wHy is aLL tHe WiNE gONe?" posts for arno? he was an alcoholic too. in fact arno and edward have a lot of the same forms of depression but oh, arno's a more serious character personality wise and isn't a pirate so his grieving isn't as funny.
and like, there are plenty of other things to make fun of with edward that might not make light of alcoholism because no, edward's drinking in the main story was not written to be a joke. here, a list of things i regularly make fun of him for:
this highwaisted man's got feminine hips
there is no reason for him to be that thicc
his bangs are a mess
his hair???? glows???? okay rapunzel.
his tatts that are just lines
actually you know what his tatts in general what do they mean ubisoft what even language are the words on his body in
how this whore opens the bottled messages on the beach. "ah yes, let me put this mysterious item in my mouth. i have no idea where its been. i could very well open it to read a note that says "i pissed on this""
"woman i just met... must respect her.. man i just met... im either going to give you a death threat, tease you, or flirt... sometimes multiple choices will be done......"
i mean he had the full right to be a bastard to walpole on the beach since he did try to be friendly but walpole was being to bitchy and needy. and like them being stranded wasnt edward's fault but walpole was still gonna make him build a ship and there is no reason for edward to trust walpole since after they get to havana he can easily just be like "thats a pirate, hang him." but like. the way he just immediately decides to steal his identity. legend.
why does he just blindly follow older men's orders like that
he trims his beard to a very odd location. i know it isn't a flattering pose but like. look at the underside of his jaw.
"how many references to dog behavior can we put in one character"
phobia of sleeping in a bed
"you saved my life i am eternally grateful."
edward are you seriously arguing with your eight year old daughter about the difference between a boat and a ship
where are your tanlines
how did he not die of skin cancer first
edward probably doesnt have any body hair because ubisoft didnt want his legs to glow in the dark too
look at his marooned outfit. bitch what the fuck is on your shirt. and where are your hair ties.
his dramatic beauty guru smokey eyes
he held that sword by the blade in the single madman quest. wh
anyway, the long run of this is, if you're gonna reblog an edward post from me specifically to make fun of an overused joke, go fuck yourself.
#edward#ac4#i talk#assassins creed#im tired#and im tired of it!#im not saying to make fun of arno's alcoholism btw#just... just because edward tends to behave a little happier doesnt mean he is#both these men are depressed but like fuck mental disorders i guess
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´ ・ . ✶ ⧼ madchen amick, non binary, she & they / fucked my way to the top by lana del rey + eyes the color crimson and hands stained in crimson, too. victim of the underworld, you are not. you came, not to sit silent at his side as dutiful wives do, but to whisper in his ear. pouted lips smeared ruby stoke the flames of his darkest impulses and his deepest desires. you are the conqueror. you are the queen. and may god have mercy upon anyone who underestimates this : because you will not. ⧽ ━━ don’t look now, but that’s ATHENODORA. the TWO THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED & TWENTY TWO ( varying physical ) year old GIFTED VAMPIRE has been here in seattle for three minutes, and is considered a member of the VOLTURI. they’ve always been MACHIAVELLIAN & INDOMITABLE, but i guess this town just brings out the worst in people ; apparently, they’ve been way more INSOUCIANT & SUPERCILIOUS than usual. it wouldn’t surprise me if they knew what was going on. click HERE to check out her stats.
they told you that you were a nobody, so you became the QUEEN. ( now everybody knows your name )
SECTION ONE OF THREE : background / human era. trigger warnings for talk of pregnancy, death, abuse
born circa 502 bc, in a little village that has no lasting name nor impact in ancient greece.
five of the children born to her parents survived to adulthood, and since she was the last one... it is almost like, her whole life, she has been suffering from younger child syndrome. who knew !
she very literally grew up in a diff time, so when i say she wasn’t rly close to any of her siblings, i don’t mean it in a like... horrible way. it’s not a reflection of character. they just didn’t have a tight sibling bond, though she loved them greatly.
same w her parents. they were unexceptional people who lived unexceptional lives, and though she was grateful for, u know... their creation of her - they were not close. they did not, in laymans terms, have the lorelai and rory gilmore dynamic.
her whole family were content to live their dismal lives, and... tho athenodora did not vibe, she, again - grew up in a diff time. of course she dreamt of more. of course she prayed to the gods for something better. but she was achingly aware of the fact that no such future would ever exist for her. such is life in 400 whatever bc, bumfuck, greece.
she was just barely eighteen when she was married to athanasios, to secure land, or smth, because those were the times. of course it was something like that.
he was... fine, at first. a little small minded ( that wasn’t the ONLY thing that was small, haha ). he, like everyone, was content to live the same old life, and athenodora just... wasn’t. she had been raised on stories of grandeur, and her parents had thought she would settle for the regular - it should not have been a surprise that she didn’t want to, but gods, did she try.
she never loved him, she can safely say ; but she wished that she did. for a long while, athenodora thought it would be easier, and thought that she could do a lot worse. unfortunately... she cld not.
their lives were meant to follow a certain pattern. they had gotten married, and now he would work all day, make them money, tend their land. she would stay home. cook. clean. raise the children that they were sure to have. athenodora was capable of almost everything expected of her, except for the most important part - she couldn’t seem to give him children. not strong sons. not beautiful daughters.
at first, he told her that it was fine.
after a year or so, he still told her that it was fine, but she could see in his eyes that it wasn’t.
two years after this, he called her the ancient greek version of defective for the very first time - and things only got worse from there.
he had always been a perfectly fine husband, until he was not, and athenodora had always wanted to love him, until she did not. she prayed to the gods every morning and night, to give her what her husband so desired. to give her that which would make her life better, even if she knew it would not heal the wounds already caused.
sometimes the gods r not dicks. a miracle! she becomes pregnant, aged twenty four ( i kno it sounded like she was a crone but again please remember the times ). she always thought it was just what was best n only athanasios would care, but , wow... suddenly. she cares. she has never felt this level of love with anything, until now.
but, tragedy :// straight white men ( idk, i just feel like her husband was the root of all evil ) are not so easily satisfied. who wld have guessed he wld continue to be an abusive asshole even after his wife succeeded in getting pregnant? i bet i shocked u all. who wld have guessed that a huge part of his problem wld end up being that suddenly, athenodora clearly cares abt something - and it isn’t him. again. got you all!
over the course of her pregnancy, he becomes, for the first time, a real threat to her - or maybe, athenodora simply never took him seriously until there is another person to think of. either way, she TRULY fears him and what he’s capable of by the time she gives birth, and after he makes some passing remark abt their baby, she yeets the FUCK out of there in the middle of the night, eirene ( baby ) only a handful of days old. she takes what she can carry and nothing more, and she... makes it pretty far, thanks to the kindness of strangers. you love to see it.
she settles somewhere ( she considers to be ) far away, and she makes up a good story : her husband died in a war ( there were probably a lot of time, i dont know ) and she was widowed, left to care for their young daughter alone. i know. its really original. they didnt have tv shows back then to rip stories from though.
stays in a hovel on the edge of their village. think the shittiest home you’ve ever seen and then make it shittier. there are rumors about her being a witch, and she kind of appreciates them, because it keeps kids out of her yard. and shock of all shock : in spite of being... u know. a woman. and not very skilled. she finds a very hot ticket job - working for the very wealthy volturi family who live on the other ( opposite ) outside of town, but like, in a considerably better home, obviously.
honestly, i don’t kno what the ancient greek equivalent of that secretary in new moon is, but that’s the vibe we’re going for, here. she’s like, a chambermaid or smth. and she makes a tidy little sum. doesn’t question her weirdo bosses that much. doesn’t know what anemia is because im p sure it wasnt discovered by then, but presumes they have it.
and maybe, just maybe, it’s the finesse of the century : or maybe, just maybe, it is destiny. in no time at all, she has caught the eye of the volturi’s most eligible bachelor(tm) : caius volturi. many another worker is made upset by this fact, as athenodora is very quickly alotted VERY special treatment as the apple of his eye, which includes, i don’t know... hand delivered baskets of pomegranates, a nicer home and in due time, the simple pleasures of the flesh.
so that’s pretty neat. and life’s pretty fine. she feels like an ancient greek sugar baby, and honestly, isn’t that all she’s ever deserved? she’s got some nice digs ( i don’t think she’d have called them that ) and a man who worships the ground she walks on and who spoils her with pretty things, and most importantly : she is taking care of her daughter, who i absolutely didn’t forget about. eirene is the literal light of athenodora’s life, and everybody knows it. if i say jean valjean and cosette vibes, can we all pretend we get it?
and then it goes to shit. as things do.
her daughter is fourteen years old, when her father finds them ; and she doesn’t know, she never knows, if he was seeking them out or whether it was all DUMB luck. regardless of it all, he is stood inside her home, his breath coming in angry half pants, and athenodora is convinced that this is it. that her end has come. that her freedom is over. she dies, she thinks, or she returns back to the house that was not her home with him. these are her options.
she tells her daughter to leave. she stops him from following. when she is shoved and her head hits the table, she is aware of the option he has chosen for them more than all else - but the gods, or perhaps, just one - intervenes.
until this night, athenodora had never known the truth of the volturi. but when her beloved saves her from athanasios, she sees him for what he is. she UNDERSTANDS. and she isn’t frightened. she should be, for sure, she should be running as fast as she can - but all she can think in that moment is that she is free now in all the ways she has never been... and caius, her love, is something so much larger than this life.
for the first time, the godhood that athenodora has always dreamt of is within her grasp. she makes him promise that once eirene comes of age, he will make her into the same creature that he IS. she makes him swear a solemn oath, and he who has been so infatuated by her for so long cannot argue.
four years. this is all it takes, and then eirene is eighteen - capable of standing upon her own two feet. athenodora leaves her everything - all the gifts she has ever been given, all the wealth accumulated, the home. everything she will not need, once she is gone. and she says a final goodbye.
caius turns her himself. the greatest gift he could ever give her.
and reborn, athenodora is MORE than everyone in her life could ever dream of being. she is the queen of the underworld, the goddess of death. she is all of this, and more. at his side, she finds GREATNESS. and once she had it, athenodora decided she would never again be without.
SECTION TWO OF THREE : volturi era.
became cool. became powerful. very emma frost of her, rly
didnt rly care for the rest of the coven outside of caius but sometimes u gotta hang w scrubs
didyme dies sometime after her turning, and that kind of fucks everybody up
not so much her bc like i said she didnt rly care but... caius b frightened of losing her, i guess
kind of throws a spanner in the works
she spends a lot of time ‘locked away’. not , like, literally ( bc that’s gross! ) but... caius takes over protective to the extreme
uses this time to harness her power and fuck
not always in that order
also spends a lot of time telling him he deserves to b leader
deserves to b the new aro
who needs powers?
not u, caius
go kick their ass baby i got ur flower-
( he doesn’t go kick their ass but man she wishes he wld )
she’s genuinely devoted to him, however, as much as it sometimes seems as if she’s using him as a means to an end
she DOES do that with a LOT of people, but caius... that’s her baby! her darling! her sweetie pie! fuck everybody else in this house caius, she respects YOU !
she jus wants to see him be the best there ever was, and he’s.... p... happy to giv her everything she wants, so their dynamic is actually p equal
we love to see it
anyway lots of years happened and now she’s here
seattle sucks -athenodora’s official review
but she’s fucking SICK of aro’s shit and thinks her 2020 birthday wld be the best time for an official change of pace
obviously aro can read minds so he knows athenodora has high aspirations but he has learned his fucking lesson w killing ppls mates, i guess
lucky for her!
that’s all i got
hehe
SECTION THREE OF THREE : power.
athenodora is an ungifted vampire in twilight canon, but to that i say : fuck ya chicken strips. in equinox, she be special. her power is life force manipulation, in a pretty unique ( and dare i say ) way.
she was a forty two year old woman, when she was turned. she had lived a life, and she had the MARKS to show for it. but the very first time that she drank human blood from the vein, athenodora realized that she was not as unexceptional as she had always been lead to believe she was. vampires do not change. they’re frozen in time, like statues, portraits, photographs... and yet, before caius’ very eyes - athenodora did what no other vampire could. mere seconds passed, and suddenly ; she was stood before her beloved, decades younger. it lasted as long as her thirst was sated, with her age returning to her as her eyes darkened once more. and it happened all over again, when next she fed.
over time, she’s come to understand it well enough. she has a particular love of younger humans ; those in their twenties, and thus, physical primes. she thinks that is, in part, down to her gift ; she seeks these out to drink from because when she feeds, she’s not simply drinking their blood, but also, their life force. she’s taking theirs to add to her own.
like many gifted vampires, she has spent time learning what she can of her gift, and learning whether there is some other way to apply it. it took almost two thousand years, but eventually - athenodora discovered that with a touch, her fingertips to their skin ( and a great deal of focus ), she could render another changed, also. it lasts for only a short amount of time - an hour, maybe a little longer, depending on how strong she is. but it works. and it makes her think that, in all her unlimited time : she might just be able to do even more. be a danger. manipulate life force in a way that can DESTROY. she’ll keep on working on that for as long as she lives.
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🔥 shipping
oh boy….. what a can of worms…
purity shipping culture is rubbish, and when i see people act like saying you ship something means you condone it or think it’s completely pure and healthy it drives me absolutely up the wall ghkfdjhgjkfdg. i think there’s value in discussing what’s healthy and what’s not, bc god was i surrounded by a shit tonne of abuse tactics & red flags crap older people where selling to me as normal and fine, or encouraging stuff that i really wish an adult had said to me “hey, i think venting this stuff out is great and i’m here to talk if you want, but please know this isn’t the be all & end of what relationships truly are” instead of justifying every dumb thought my angsty teenage brain came up with. but whenever you denounce purity shipping culture ppl come out of the fucking woodwork to be like “exactly, that’s why i’m totally allowed to ship this 13 yr with a whole ass adult and it’s totally fine :) i would never do it in real life and i’m not responsible for platforming pedophiles who are grooming kids in fandom just bc i romanticise it” no fuck off. i know people, especially young people, and especially in echo chambers like tumblr can only see in black and white but there is some sort of middle ground.
also i don’t get canon shipping culture? h*ccstrid is my main example cause it’s my most active fandom but you see these absolutely wild intense shit in most fandoms and get dramatic sentences like “ h*ccstrid’s the most beautiful perfect thing ever and anyone who thinks otherwise is a poopyhead” and it’s like? okay? what do you like about it? and 90% of the time it’s like “well it’s canon” or *lists things deblois has said about it* or straight up stuff that’s like. that’s not actually happening/there and it’s just like… do you like this bc you see something worthwhile or bc it’s canon? cause it feels like it’s just cause it’s canon. idk i think it might be bc im not a str8 and so ultimately those tiny moments of interaction are a million times more satisfying to me than blatant forced hetero romances. i don’t like being told by my media who to ship. i like coming to the conclusion myself, but i’m guessing that’s not that same for most ppl at all. canon ship culture is so obnoxious too like, i’m out here minding my own business liking my tiny obscure ship and sometimes making posts on my own blog abt how i dont like the canon ship and h*ccstriders since like. … 2012 have been inserting themselves into my blog and making a big deal and vaguing me on other blogs, and writing big vents about my existence and sending me death threats and suicide baiting and causing drama and it’s just like. your ship is canon? 98% of the fandom ships it but what you’re still so bored with all that content that you need to do this?
also 👀👀👀 if u know someone likes h*ccstrid you can guess with 100% accuracy their ships from other shows they like. and even if you haven’t seen the pattern before when it happens to you, you’ll groan and be like “of Course ugh fjkhskjfhgfg”
#thanks for asking!!!!!!!!!!!!!#chaifootsteps#ask#ask meme#i dont know how old this blog is#i looked at my archive but it only goes back to july 2015 and i know thats wrong .....#like. theres fairly odd parents stuff there from when i had my binge watch of that and i definitely had the blog at least 2 yrs before that#i httyd blogged before that too but on an old personal blog#and then i had a dragons blogs i accidentally deleted#and a rare pair ship blog that i shared w/ a friend#it still exists but its on private and i cant reember the password or access it thru my dash bc it was linked to an old account i deleted#theres like rtte stuff from 2015 i had this blog WAY before that lol ...
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H&H rant bc of episode 34
So, was that a planned death, or was the party just being kind of shit? Because there was a lack of sentiment there that makes me think it was one of those two things. I know they “hate” bo jingles, but it was a part of their party dynamic, a running joke. Like Ryan/Albus said, sometimes you have shitty family members. Bo was ultimately an ally 95% of the time(and was there for every episode), and they didn’t even think to incapacitate and question him? It would have saved Frank from having to heavy-handedly explain the backstory, would have made the ending a little more satisfying, and might have even changed their decision
RP-wise, it feels like Yakshashamu may have known he did something wrong and was resigned to whatever the party decided was his fate. Michael said “you can be an asshole and not be evil”, and Albus kept asking him, and Yak never confirmed he was evil!! He said nothing!! Geoff seemed so sad!!!!
in general, I wish they would step up the roleplaying. I’d like to see a smaller scale story, for one thing, because it really felt like they were rail roaded a lot of the time. Lol, and honestly, I’d like to see them get punished more for being assholes. Like, maybe Father Dory should have abandoned them bc of all the pedo jokes. A smaller scale would allow this to happen without it being the end of the world. And to bring it back to Geoff, they should be punished for being assholes and letting that happen with no ceremony. Maybe the paladins could receive some direct divine intervention, bc if ur gonna be assholes and callously discard a companion like that, then at least dont play the godly, lawful good class (dont get me wrong, i like it when theyre “assholes” in all their other content and im not making a moral judgement, it just feels to me like it takes away from the roleplaying)
Ahhhhhh, I know ultimately, this may come down to how they want to play the game, and if they don’t care about roleplaying then the criticism is totally debased. But, personally, it’s really what I’d like to see. I find the best moments are when Mogar did his ice-breath for the kids, or the party decided Bor Ealis should hold the orb, or they left Akshay an absurd inheritance haha. Or buying fine robes! That was 100x better content than the straightforward boss battle was. Ofc they can make jokes, and when it’s not important still be kind of assholey. but like. The Death of Bo Jingles During the Final Battle to Overthrow the Government should have felt more dramatic and impactful and, dare I say it, more serious!
I hope there’s another season, I hope there’s better roleplaying, and Bo Jingles/Yakshashamu deserved better
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hue of thoughts
a wrinkle of time again for me to start jotting down my thoughts. today's year where second semester of being a third year university student ended, but an extension of summer class is waiting. well the days have been trying to be rough but i kinda let myself not to get drown with those antagonist. im so done with it, damn tried and so stressed. i once said to myself "not satisfied but contented, not fine but still okay" does it even make sense? friends, a one good friend that i got to talk to at dawn of 2:59 am. people, two of them whom i never imagined to be spending my night with under the vast sky where stars twinkle and unexpectedly saw a dazzling flash of shooting star, but it is only me who didn't got to see it and even make a wish. chances of unclear vision, made me so unsure.
honestly i thought i'd be having less heartaches and no more emotional tears, but i was wrong. no matter how i tried not to shed a single tear i happened to out-poured a lot. that was february of this year that our friendship was tested. never even had a thought that it would happen. who would have thought about it, who would have thought it would became that worst, and who would have thought that it might end up that i'll be losing a friend. good thing was the plot twist plays its role well. a river of tears i call in front of that circle where other people got to see my cry once again, and i damn hate it. i hate myself so much for being such a crying potato. how can i overcome it? and when will i? i even got to wish and pray for less heartaches but it did to happened again. i caused a lot of major troubles to that one special friend. i was so scared that time, the pain i had in my chest gave me the thought that it would suffocate me and lead me to death. yeah, im always been this so dramatic over little things. and there this one person told me "you cried again? how many times i told you stop crying! it wont help you to get out through those things and you know whats the worst case? people could put so down that easy" words that help me to be at ease.
got to hurt the friend that i cared, for she cared me too to those times i was in pain. "reserve on the day of playday" i said to her. reading her tweets even not mentioning me truly sends directly to my heart that i couldn't barely breathe normally. not to be hyperbole but thats what i really felt that time. i once said to a good classmate that "my heart hurt so bad" and i could see what she felt after i said those words in her eyes that she symphatized me. "i hate you" she replied to me in the middle of our conversation in our chat. i was in shock and felt happy and sad at the same time. thoughts running through that i dont understand. a trailer of things i wanted to happened during the planned overnight and last event of ours. "sitting at the balcony that night with the sky full of stars above us" too imaginative isn't? but it did happened and we both didn't expect it cause same, we imagine the same scenario but not totally. does it sound ironic? for the things i expected to happened and words i wanted to express that time came to be ironic too and legit plot twist. thought we'd we crying both as we talked about our friendship and what really happened. i find it so cute cause there were times actually that she wanted to talked and tease me but she cant do it cause we had misunderstanding that time. laughs, but cant lie the fact that i cried.
the last overnight i had together with the officers of jpmap was truly memorable to me. it was supposedly not going to be pushed through. hearing that news from pres made me and lanie sad for i have reserved such expected scenarios that is going to happened. it was really amazing, though it had some hindrances that would lead not to be happened. it was me, lanie, ate ame, rex and pitche, but except pitche since she slept at her aunt's house, together with ate ame, rex, and lan we really had the awesome memories that we could treasure with. i dont know how i should re-tell everything from the start or just collect the highlights, every seconds of it was such a joy in my heart. maybe there are just really thoughts yet that i cannot express for i have plant it from the bottom of my arteries. the first stop was at school where we met. it was a three days before the hell week. looking up as the wide blue sky says hello to me and lan. we were so mesmerized by that time that we couldn't help ourselves not to took a picturesque photos of it. next to is was we continued to process the letters for the last activity of our organization, the day after that night. it was really a sad news for the people who would have done their job to write their signatures was really a big deal for they did not get to do it. so the letters left unprocessed, good thing was the student affairs office allowed us for they couldn't stop it since that has to be happen eventually but they cannot assured us that if something unexpected situation might occur since it was an outside activity, the school wont be liable to any accident that will took place. that leave us both a sigh, we couldn't do anything at all already. so i and lan decided to go to the chapel and prayed. after we ask for God's presence and guidance we took a piece of a paper at a bowl where it has tons of colorful papers, i dont know exactly what is it called or term. opening that piece of violet paper that i get and lan who had the blue paper which turned out a switch of our favorite color and we didn't happened to get that color really like we just put our hands in that bowl and didn't looked which is which and unexpectedly we switched the color that we two liked. as we opened it, the thing was it really shocked me for it was an immediate answer to my prayers and it really leave me an amazement. same that happened to lan too, but her it was a bit of an opposite side cause it was kinda negative and scared us, but there was a positive side too the "consistently pray" which made her and me to not stop praying. after it we go back to the canteen to eat. there, together with ate ame, rex and lan we planned about "dayunon" the overnight. it took several minutes of ate ame to decide and be conviced by us. we really had a funny talks and imaginative expectations that made the four of us so excited for that one night and the day of the event. also rex changed up his mind too that made him to go for that overnight, but to mention its really because of lan haha. afterwards, ate ame, rex, and lan decided to packed up their things that made them to go home and left me at school while waiting for pitche, and good thing she wasn't that "dugay". after an hour i decided to go to sm, since i have to buy somethings and it is the location too where we will "sakay" for consolacion. as i wait for them to arrive in sm, i was waiting at danidoo waffle stand. sittiing there alone yet not so awkward because i was chatting lan. that time she was facing a hindrance of her life that made her to cry that nigh. it was around 6 pm already and she's still at their house, stacked-up for her mother didn't let her to left their house for the overnight because that day too was a special day for her mother, it was her mom's birthday. it made me really so freaking damn sad, because i anticipated her presence so much and im afraid that it would be a dull night without her. also it will the night we've been waiting for to talk about the misunderstanding that happened for the past few weeks. i really really really really thought that she wouldn't be able to make it, but thank good heavens, she made it! together with rex who was so drama that eventually might ended for him to go for the overnight because he wont be able to see her lan haha, we were so happy that lan was on her way to meet with us. it took pretty much an hour for ate ame, rex and pitche to arrive at the sm to see me where i was waiting for them. as they have arrived, we had a minutes that almost an hour of strolling at the mall to buy some un-checked things for the playday and waiting for lan too. and guess what! we happened to see frianne unexpectedly performing in front of a crowd with her beautiful voice together with two people, she was once a friend of lan and a good classmate of mine. then we've noticed that the worm inside our tummy was growling already and we've decided to eat and the time of 8pm says it too. we ate at bon-chon and lan finally arrived. minutes passed we've decided to go already, we lined at the terminal where we "sakay" in the vhire. just as we've sitted and collect our payments ate ame noticed that her wallet got lost, so pitche paid for her fare. it sadden us really because that night was pretty good yet it happened to ate ame. so we had a silent and solemn rode as we get arrive to the place. yet it was so funny, we stopped at a wrong stop-over because ate ame wasn't in her right mind that time because of her wallet that has two thousand pesos in it. so we happened to walk from a distance and laughs as we crossed the dark silent road because rex shouted "run". then i was seeing the two wheels in front of me again that time, we have to rode a motorcycle. i was with lan and still such a scaredy-potato while holding her shoulders that night with a breeze of cold air. i thought we'll arrived at the place of ate ame's family not so "dugay" but it was really a long way of road that caused me to hold too much of my breath cause i kennot. as we get to the place you could really feel the atmosphere of being at the province. it was really a mountainous place. then ate ame's aunt walked us to their house where supposedly the three of us will be staying. it looked like an elf's house because it was small and built just really cute. we stayed and catch our breath for a couple of minutes then decided to see the resort that night. we didn't able to check the time that night for our mind was really cope-up with the excitement as we go to the resort. but to see again that two wheels, ghad i choked. we end up again riding a motorcycling, i was just like "maybe for this whole adventure i'll be riding ths two wheels" and i shut up. as we get to the resort, we had a little tiny memories, video-ing our derp looks that night. and finally we got the privileged to enter the resort which will be having its opening tomorrow that day. seriously we do not know what time was it already, we just really had fun and laughs that made our muscles get stretched and hurt at the same time hahaha. hilarious night as we three shared, like it was really long night to us. going back to the place through that two wheels, and made me noticed about the balcony of the house of ate ame's uncle. it was really weird because if i were to explain what i really felt that time seemed like it matched the setting that was in my trailer where i and lan gonna talk.
170318-180318 // definitely collected all the highlights that happened and will forever be treasured.
hue's of memories, light the corners of my mind:
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