#i'll be the best mortal enemy you could ask for
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smudged-red-ink · 1 year ago
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Anybody want to be my nemesis?
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bamsara · 1 year ago
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what are your most favorite tropes? :3c
IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED:
Near death experiences
Emotional revelations due to said near death experiences
Enemies to Friends to Lovers
Mutual Pining but they believe its unrequieted
"you're my worst enemy but you're so important to me"
Drunk chapter where at least One fist fight happens
Bridal carry after someone gets injured
Slow Burn...of course
"i got you this gift because it benefits me and im not telling you how" (the benefit is seeing the other person enjoy the gift)
Force Alliances or Temporary Truces
"I don't like killing but I'll do it for you"
"I prefer to kill my problems but I won't, for you."
Or: "This person has no idea how many people I've killed in order to protect or provide for them and I'm going to keep it that way."
Mean or Villian Character is actaully a really good Sibling/Parent/Child,ect and has someone they care about
Or better, Villian character adopts child AND is a good parent
Everyone knows the pairing likes each other except for the pairing
Temporary (or non-temp)Amnesia
"I learn your favorite things because I plan to use them against you one day" (proceeds to not do that) (proceeds to get them food or items that persons likes just because they like them)
Breaking and Entering. Literally.
Person A is in love, Person B says they're not but they're 10x times worse actaully
Slip-of-the-tongue/Accidental confessions. Doesn't have to be love confessions but just "whoops i was not supposed to say that"
Biting as a love language
One is feral and bloodthirsty but is put in the position of 'protecting an idiot' because the other is also feral and has no self-preservation. Both characters must be badass, just equally stupid
Kiss on the head/cheek while the other person is sleeping
Bloodstained kiss
Heat-of-battle confession about something
Protagonist refusing to become villian or repeat villian mistakes, not in a 'owo i cant do that its bad' and more like 'fuck you you dont get to see what you wanted to make of me'
Signifier of 'this is my friend/family/lover'. Could anything between a ring, a jacket over someone's shoudlers or scent marking, anything
"if im immortal, then you gotta be too or we both dyin"
Knight x Their Charge
Human x Non-Human
Sunshine x Grump
Character that looks sooooo cute. Oh he's a little fucked up actaully
"ahhaha he's such a freak haha. i need him carnally."
They are mortal enemies. They are also best friends.
Hostage / Rescued trope plus Hostage / Doesn't get to rescue because the hostage killed everyone already
Plot info that's missing that's vital to the story and it's revealed that One of the pairing or someone in the group knew the info the entire time
"I said mean things to you because I hate you, so why am I feeling guilty now"
There was only One Bed
Really competent and scary character is really GOOD at a harmless and charming small hobby completely uncharacteristic to their public persona
Nightmares. And then sleeping in the same bed because of nightmares
Cultural differences / Language Barrier
Character gets so surprised flustered they trip over something or break something and it topples and it starts a chain reaction like a cartoon
There are more but these are some of which I can remember off the top of my head. I've written many of these myself in several of my stories and will continue to do so until the end of time, esp my faves
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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago
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(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter One - I Hate You
Is me starting another series before my dissertation a really bad idea? Yes, yes it is (but i had the idea and I need to get it written down asap)
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
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"Get out of my apartment!"
In the doorway of a little two bedroom apartment in Woking was Y/N L/N. She had a bad on her back and at least three suitcases behind her. And in front of her was Lando Norris, her teammate, biggest rival and mortal enemy.
Lando stared at her, dumbfounded. "Your apartment?" He repeated, expression still shocked. "No, Zac said this one is for me."
"Then why did he give me a key for apartment 241?"
They held up the exact same set of keys on the exact same keyring. Lando let out a sigh through his nose as he pocketed his version of the key. "Somebody clearly has royally fucked up," he said and sat on the couch.
"I'm gonna call him," said Y/N as she put the key back into her pocket. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and dialled the number of her boss.
Zac Brown had been hers and Lando's boss for the last year and few months. He'd been dealing with hers and Lando's shit from day one, ever sine they revealing the McLaren car for that year. They'd almost gotten onto a fight on the stage in front of everybody.
Zac picked up the phone in just a few rings. "How're you liking the new place?" He asked in way of hello.
"It's great, Zac. Except it comes with an annoying little prick," Y/N spat.
There was a second where Zac didn't say anything. He saw this coming, had tried to mitigate it as best he could by telling Lando he'd be getting a roommate. Of course, he didn't say who that roommate would be: that would have just been asking for trouble.
But, then again, all of this was asking for trouble. Zac had been waiting for a call from at least one of them since he got into the office (he'd hoped it would have been Lando; over the past year he'd proven himself to be easier to deal with than Y/N, who didn't back down. No matter what).
"Get yourself unpacked, I'll deal with you tomorrow," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Zac put the phone down. He didn't say goodbye to his drivers, unless it was on race days. With nowhere left to go, Y/N dragged her things into the apartment. "Where's the second bedroom?" She grumbled as she looked down at Lando.
Without looking away from the television, Lando pointed behind him. But that wasn't helpful, since there was the kitchen just behind them and then two doors. "Furthest one," he said and Y/N dragged her bags through the rest of the apartment, heading to the furthest away bedroom.
The bedroom was sizeable, with a double bed and wardrobe already inside. But, other than that, there wasn't a lot. Y/N unpacked nothing but bedding and clothes for the next day. There was no way she was staying here, not living with Lando Norris.
***
Carpooling made so much sense when going to the same place as somebody, unless you hated that person. Zac watched from his office as two cars pulled up outside of the McLaren Technology centre.
The drivers got out of the car almost in sync. They both wore sunglasses as they strode towards the doors, Y/N's glare not visible behind her sunglasses as she followed Lando inside.
Things were clearly tense between them as they walked through the office. The drivers said nothing to each other, but their expressions said enough.
Where Lando took an elevator up to Zac's office, Y/N took the stairs. She ran up them, the two of them arriving at the same time (one of them out of breath and the other smirking at her).
She took the lead as they strode into the office. "Zac," Y/N began, but the CEO held his hand.
He wasn't like other bosses, he was a cool boss. But he was still there boss and, when he held up his hand, the two knew to shut up. "Sit down," he said, leaning back in his own chair.
Y/N and Lando sat in the seats on the other side of the desk. Her leg bounced as she waited for Zac to speak and Lando had his hands shoved into his pockets. Neither of them could ever agree on anything, except the fact that they're not leaving the room until they're not living together.
Zac laced his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "You're both brilliant drivers," he began, "but you're both liabilities. You've both cost us millions because you keep trying to kill each other on the track. And your behaviour towards each other off track is bringing bad press to all of us at McLaren," he finished.
"We don't want to lose either of you as drivers, so we've come up with the brilliant plan to force you to get along."
Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at her boss. "And if we refuse?" She asked him, placing one leg on top of the other.
"Then, we'll have to let one of both of you go. But the choice is yours."
But the choice wasn't really theirs. No matter what, they couldn't lose their seats, so they were just going to have to stick it out, suffer through it. Fuck.
The tension between the two wasn't just random. It had been brewing since their karting days. Even then they ran each other off the tracks and fought between races. Of course, back then it wasn't as big a deal.
There were way too many videos of when they were kids and they'd pushed each other off the track, gotten out of their karts and gotten into a physical fight. If they weren't so clearly talented, it would have affected their careers.
For the first few months of their Formula One careers in McLaren, the team thought they had made a mistake. If they weren't consistently in the points, Zac would have gotten rid of the both of them. But, truth be told, they were too good to let go.
So, he dangled this threat in front of them. Learn to get along or one of you is sacked. He'd thought about this hard, realised that this was the perfect threat. Y/N and Lando were so competitive that the thought of one of them losing their seat while the other thrived would have torn them apart.
"Fine," said Y/N. She stood up so quickly that the chair she was sat on, fell backwards. She quickly picked it up and rushed out of the office.
Lando said a goodbye to Zac and walked out of the office, rushing after her. He ran into the elevator just before the doors slid shut and stood beside her. They didn't look at each other, stared straight at the doors as the elevator took them down. "Sup, new roommate," he said with a smirk.
The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. "I hate you," Y/N said and walked out of the McLaren technology centre.
She drove her way back to the apartment in Woking in complete silence. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that it left imprints on her skin, on her palms and her finger tip.
How she didn't get pulled over for speeding, she'd never know. But the speed limit was the least of her concern as she made her way back to what was her new home.
But it would never be her home, not while Lando was living there.
***
Reluctantly, she unpacked her things. Hung her clothes up in her wardrobe and placed her underwear in the drawers. Y/N placed pictures of her family, pictures of her old F2 car, of her pets, of her car from the previous year up around her room. She pulled her lamp from her back and placed it on the bedside table, along with her phone, its charger, and her toiletries.
Lando had arrived home just minutes after her, but she'd already locked herself in her room. The only way they'd be able to get through this was by avoiding each other.
When her things were unpacked, Y/N sat on the bed and grabbed a book. A biography, all about the life of Enzo Ferrari. The one thing her room was missing was her sim racing rig, something her father was meant to bring up that day, but Y/N had told him to wait until she had somewhere new to live (which, we all know didn't happen. She was stuck in this apartment with Lando, whether she liked it or not).
Pressing her ear to the door, Y/N listened as Lando walked around. She waited until he walked past her room and into his own, shutting the door behind him. Only then did she walk out of her room to get herself something to eat and drink.
She could do this. All she had to do was avoid him.
Easy.
Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool
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wraithlafitte · 11 months ago
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bitchin'
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pairing: dean winchester x reader
CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting
word count: 4.7k
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To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.
Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.
He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.
There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.
The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!
When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"
You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."
"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.
"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."
"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.
"I need your help, you dick."
"Oh do you now."
You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."
"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."
"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.
I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.
Why does he have to make everything so difficult?
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Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.
"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.
"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.
"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."
"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."
You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."
"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."
You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."
"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"
Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."
"Say no more."
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The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.
All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.
Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.
You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.
Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.
"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.
You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."
"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.
Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.
One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.
Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.
Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.
A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.
Great, this is how I die....
As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.
You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.
Then, it was silent.
You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.
Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.
"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.
"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"
"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"
"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"
"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."
"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."
"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."
You froze in your tracks. "What."
"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.
Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"
He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."
You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"
Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."
"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."
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"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.
The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."
You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.
"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"
You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"
"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.
"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.
Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.
"So, do you want the room or not?"
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You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."
Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.
Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.
You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.
You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.
"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.
"You first!" Dean rasped.
"No!"
You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"
You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.
"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.
"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.
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You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.
You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.
Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.
You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.
"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.
The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.
"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"
"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.
"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"
"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.
"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.
You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.
He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"
You stared at him. "Are you serious?"
"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.
"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.
"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.
"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.
Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.
Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.
Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"
He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.
"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."
You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"
Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.
"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.
"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.
Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.
He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.
"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.
You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.
"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.
"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.
He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.
"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.
"In your fucking dreams," you spat.
In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.
You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.
"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."
"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.
"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.
You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."
Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.
You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.
"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."
"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."
"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.
"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.
He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.
"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"
When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.
"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.
"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.
Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.
You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.
"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.
"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.
"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.
"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.
He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.
You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.
His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.
"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.
Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.
Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).
Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.
He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."
You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.
Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.
So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.
"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."
You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.
Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"
You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.
"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.
"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.
"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."
He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.
"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"
"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.
"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.
Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.
You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.
"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?
It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.
"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.
You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.
Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.
You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.
You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.
"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.
"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.
"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.
You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."
"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.
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dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics
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f1byjessie · 11 months ago
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part one.
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,798 others
yourusername yeehaw (bahrain edition)
view all 934 comments
user the only person more american than logan is his sister
logansargeant imagine spending more time with a horse than your own twin brother
↳ yourusername don't need to bc i did
↳ logansargeant this is the cyber bullying mom warned me about
↳ yourusername do you wanna see bullying? cuz i'll show you bullying
user oh to be a girl at the beach during sunset
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liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 9,684 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername baby's first f1 race! kick some ass logie! 🫶
view all 1,452 comments
logansargeant thank you but we're literally the same age??
↳ yourusername umm i think you're mistaken cuz last i checked i was still a minute older
user LOGIE I'M DECEASED
user y/n giving us the low qual logan content we've been craving
williamsracing Best of luck to Logan! We're happy to have him as part of the team!
user WTF IS A KILOMETERRRRR RAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅
oscarpiastri i don't even wanna know how far back you had to scroll in your gallery to find that last picture
↳ yourusername careful piastri, i have some of you too and i'm not afraid to use them
↳ oscarpiastri noted.
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tagged: yourusername
logansargeant could've been better, could've been worse, but i couldn't have asked for a better cheerleader this weekend. everyone's jealous they ain't got a sister like mine
view all 2,117 comments
user RAAAAHH!! USA!! USA!! USA!! 🦅💥
alex_albon could really feel the williams love all weekend long 💙
yourusername i mean i GUESS i have to take my job as your sister seriously SOMETIMES
↳ oscarpiastri as opposed to the rest of the time when you're mortal enemies
↳ yourusername i'm glad SOMEONE understands
user am i the only one who didn't know logan had another sibling???
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f1paddockgossip_official Y/N Sargeant, sister to new Williams driver Logan Sargeant, makes her F1 paddock debut this weekend at the Bahrain Grand Prix! With such a bright demeanor, it was hard to miss her! It's only the first race of the 2023 season, and we hope to be seeing her around more often.
view all 7,538 comments
user THAT'S WHO THAT WAS???
user she's our all american girl and we love her
user nothing more american than twins
↳ user this literally makes no sense?? what??
user FORGET THE DRIVERS I WANNA MEET HER 😍
user becoming a logan fan just for his sister
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yourusername goodbye bahrain, you were a wonderful experience
view all 364 comments
user will you be at the saudi arabian gp???
williamsracing We hope to see you at more races Y/N! Thanks for coming out to support our team! 💙
↳ yourusername of course! i had the time of my life!
user who needs to be a wag when you can just be the sister of a driver and get the same benefits
user is this supposed to be a reference to oscar's post??
↳ user wait omg is it?
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oscarpiastri goodbye bahrain, you were everything.
comments have been disabled
━━ a/n: oh gosh, this is my first time posting anything like this on tumblr so i hope it's good! more to come eventually! still trying to figure out a style, so please excuse any mistakes or discrepancies!
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odditycircus-2002 · 1 year ago
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Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with Medusa!Reader Part II
Li Mei
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Y/N: Are you sure we cannot keep the traitor as a lovely ornament?
Li Mei: Reiko has to face trial like anyone else, Y/N.
/
Y/N: I still regret that I could not have done more for Sindel.
Li Mei: I know it pains you, but no one is accusing you of doing nothing.
/
Y/N: I am not sure I can give a testimony without trying to kill Shang Tsung on sight.
Li Mei: Justice cannot function properly unless you follow it thoroughly.
/
Y/N: I hope you're still not holding it against Syzoth for disturbing the lantern festival.
Li Mei: After everything he's done for the Empire? I'll let him off with a warning this time.
/
Li Mei: It is thanks to you that most of Sun Do's constables survived our battle with Shao and his allies.
Y/N: I am glad to hear they made full recoveries.
/
Li Mei: You must put your faith in justice.
Y/N: There is no such thing as it, the best I could hope for is revenge.
/
Li Mei: It still baffles me that you managed to slip away from me the first time you came to the palace.
Y/N: What can I say? I've always been the slippery type.
Kitana
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Y/N: I am presuming that Li Mei wishes to speak with me about slipping hallucinogenic mushrooms into the rebel army's food supply.
Kitana: You did what now?!
/
Y/N wistfully: It seems like only yesterday to me that I helped bring you into the world.
Kitana: Time tends to fly by like that, Y/N.
/
Y/N surprised: I understand honoring Baraka, but Mileena wants to do the same with me?
Kitana: You have served Outworld with as much determination and loyalty as any honored soldier, Y/N
/
Y/N: I am truly sorry I couldn't save your mother.
Kitana: My family and I know more than anyone how hard you try to keep her alive.
/
Kitana: By the gods, NO! That is absolutely a cruel idea.
Y/N: How is throwing food that is secretly explosives worse than Shao weaponizing Onaga?
/
Kitana: Perhaps you should stop coming to the strategy meetings...
Y/N: Is this about my latest suggestion?
/
Kitana: You have a sister?
Y/N: Yes, but we're not as close as you and Mileena.
Liu Kang
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Liu Kang: Even though he proves to be resilient, I’d be wary of Baraka loosing control.
Y/N: Have you forgotten I too was once a beauty now a turned beast?
/
Liu Kang: Baraka and his fellow Tarkatans view you as a beacon of hope for all you’ve done for them.
Y/N: Only because NO ONE elssse would help those poor unfortunate soulsss!
/
Liu Kang: Do not become tempted by Shang Tsung’s Well of Souls.
Y/N: If you had any chance of saving the one you loved from a cruel fate, wouldn’t you take it? /
Y/N: I asked you to kill me in a previous timeline???
Liu Kang: Kronika made it so you cannot go on without Shang Tsung. /
Y/N: I was a dangerous enemy in a past timeline, why didn’t you erase me for good?
Liu Kang: Because I had hoped that with better circumstances, you’d turn out kinder.
/
Y/N: I am grateful that you didn’t have me predestined to marry Shang Tsung
Liu Kang: As am I that you had an actual choice to choose who to love.
/
Y/N: I hope you do not expect I pray to you, not when I have to rely on myself to heal others.
Liu Kang: No, I do not need any of the sort, Y/N.
Kiu Liang (Scorpion)
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Y/N: For freeing me from Shang Tsung and Quan-chi, I am in your debt till death.
Kiu Liang: I could not stand idly by and let the Sorcerers continue to use you.
/
Y/N: Thank you again for those earthrealm medical books you've gifted me.
Kiu Liang: May they prove to greatly help your cause.
/
Y/N: Truth be told, I envy that you and your new bride have life to look forward to together.
Kiu Liang: I understand why your heart would be in such turmoil.
/
Y/N: My venom is more than strong enough to overpower yours.
Kiu Liang: But can you take the force of my sting?
/
Kiu Liang: Baraka and the rest of the Colony are fortunate to have you as their healer.
Y/N: As is the Shirai Ryu for having you as Grandmaster.
/
Kiu Liang: I promise you, my clan and I will ensure that Bi-han is tried for his crimes-
Y/N angrily hisses: I do NOT care that he'sssss your brother! He must be cut like the tumor he is for hisssss attack on the colony!
/
Kiu Liang: You taught Outworlds High Mage hydromancy?
Y/N: Only the basics. He bringsssss me great shame for abusing the magic he's learned.
Sub-Zero (Bi-Han)
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Y/N: Kuia-Liang will be disappointed that he's not the one who finished you.
Bi-Han: He will be disappointed to know you died thinking you could.
/
Y/N: You are plague to everything you touch.
Bi-Han: Only to those who would stand against me or my clan.
/
Y/N angrily and hissing: You killed my patientssss!!!
Bi-Han: I did them a favor by releasing them from their misery.
/
Y/N: Taking Shang Tsung's offer was a foolish mistake.
Bi-Han: You're right. I do not need his sorcery to bring power and glory to my clan.
/
Bi-Han: What manner of illness did you give my Lin Kuei, witch?!
Y/N patronizingly: I thought your clan was supposed to be stronger.
/
Bi-Han: I know your cold blood will stand no chance against my cryomancy.
Y/N: Actually, I ssstill remain warm-blooded.
/
Bi-Han: Your hydromancy has no chance against my cryromancy.
Y/N: Have you forgotten what ice is made from, Bi-han?
Rain
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Rain: Why did you never teach ME how to control blood?
Y/N: I wished to spare you of the magic’s cost of madness.
/
Rain: I will always regret my crimes against Seido
Y/N: If you’re truly remorseful, then their ssssouls shall haunt you till the day you die. /
Y/N: I did NOT teach you how to control water, sssso you could dishonor me or your family!
Rain: I know how deeply I’ve shamed all of you. /
Rain: With the magic you know, why did you never pursue becoming High Mage?
Y/N: To avoid being overwhelmed with ambition asssss you were. /
Y/N: Your once cleansing water are ssssstained with the blood of Seido’s victims.
Rain: It is something I can never truly wash away. /
Rain: I have surpassed your water magic!
Y/N: How bold to assume that I’ve taught you EVERYTHING about water’s capabilitiessss.
/
Y/N: You want to come with ME into the Kytinn Hive???
Rain: So I can finally start my penance.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 11 months ago
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Just the two of us
A check-in on Hades!Harry x Persephone!Y/n (An Eternal Embrace)
Summary: Harry gives Y/n the perfect gift for Valentine's
Words: ~500
masterlist
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♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
Harry had always been known as the dark and brooding God of the Underworld, feared by mortals and even the other Gods. But little did they know, he had a soft spot for one special Goddess – Y/n.
Every year, on Valentine's Day, Harry would make an extra effort to show his love for Y/n. This year, he wanted to do something truly special for her. She had been feeling homesick for the bright and colorful world above. He had heard her mention how much she missed flowers and the warmth of the sun, and he decided to make a small garden just for her.
He spent weeks gathering the most beautiful flowers, rare plants, and even a small pond with crystal-clear water. He wanted to create a peaceful and serene space for Y/n  to escape to whenever she needed a break from the darkness of the Underworld.
On Valentine's Day morning, Harry  nervously waited for Y/n to arrive. He had never been this nervous before, even when facing his most feared enemies. But this was different; he wanted everything to be perfect for his beloved wife.
As Y/n arrived, Harry greeted her with a bouquet of flowers and a sheepish smile. “Happy Valentine's Day, my love,” he said, his voice filled with tenderness.
Y/n 's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the beautiful garden in front of her. She had always dreamed of having a garden, but being the Queen of the Underworld, it seemed like an impossible wish. Yet, here it was, in all its beauty, thanks to her husband's love and dedication.
She walked through the garden, admiring each flower and plant. “Harry , this is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, her voice filled with emotions.
Harry  couldn't help but smile at her reaction. “I wanted to do something special for you, my dear. You bring light into my dark world, and I wanted to give you a piece of beauty in return.” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
Y/n  threw her arms around Harry , unable to contain her overwhelming emotions. “I love you, Harry . This is the best Valentine's Day gift I could have ever asked for,” she whispered, her voice trembling with love.
Harry  held her close, cherishing the moment and the love they shared. “I'll do anything to make you happy, my perfect Queen,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
As they sat by the pond, watching the sunset over the garden, Y/n couldn’t help but admire everything, every little detail: he had put so much thought and dedication into this. It was a symbol of their love and a reminder that even in the darkest of places, love could bloom and thrive.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! i know this isn't soo good, but considering reblogging if you do! you can tip me here
taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld  @chesthairrry  @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs  @hisparentsgallerryy  @storyschanging  @selluequestrian  @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown
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rey-jake-therapist · 4 months ago
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"Mirdania is Celebrian" is one of the dumbest theories I've ever heard. It makes no sense; why would Galadriel fail to mention that she has a daughter in Eregion?! Why would she sail off to Valinor without saying goodbye to her??? Mirdania is a character who doesn't exist in the Tolkien canon. She might become important later on but right now she is just a young and naive elf who will probably die tragically when Eregion falls.
I will be more indulgent than you and not call the theory dumb because in another type of show, where storytelling is more subtle, it *could* be true. And if it's how other fans have fun, there's no wrong in speculating :) Many think Haladriel shippers are dumb for wanting Sauron and Galadriel to be in love, after all 😂
But I agree : there are way too many holes in this theory for me to take it seriously. I'll add a few things to what you said :
The writing of this show is not particularly subtle. For example, most of us knew that Halbrand was Sauron way before he revealed himself. Any Tolkien fan who saw him staring at the forge, then become a smith mimicked Leonardo Di Caprio pointing at his tv ! And there were a few other obvious hints that he was Sauron, for anyone who paid attention to see.
Galadriel having a daughter would be OOC, at this point of the story. And it would also make her connection with Halbrand/Sauron harder to understand. When we meet Galadriel, she's an angry warrior who lost her brother and her husband to the enemy. Her king and her best friend have turned their back on her and tried to banish her without calling it a banishment. It's very obvious that she has nothing to lose. When Sauron crosses her path, he's as low as she is, having been through a similar experience. It's why they connect so well and have this "I feel it too" moment, not because Halbrand is hot ! (Ok it must have played a bit too, I mean look at him lol)
My point is : Galadriel having a daughter doesn't work, narratively speaking ! If Celebrian is in her life, why would she feel so close to Halbrand? Why would she constantly act as if she didn't care about dying, as if no one would miss her if she did? Why wouldn't she say that she fights because she wants a better future for her?
No, Celebrian being born at this point of the story doesn't make any narrative sense. And Mirdania being Celebrian makes even less sense. I mean, Galadriel would know that her daughter is in the same vicinity as her mortal enemy, but she wouldn't mention her concern for her? She would let Adar capture her and take her away from Eregion, and send Elrond back to Gil-Galad, instead of asking him to make sure her daughter is safe?!
Frankly, if Mirdania turns out to be Celebrian, it's awful storytelling because it was not hinted or thought through at all. Not to mention that having mother and daughter crushing on the same evil guy, who would flirt with both... That would be very creepy 😬
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heelycular-manslaughter · 7 months ago
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I've been working on a ttrpg inspired by Hades and Kill 6 Billion Demons, modifying my Lumen game, Luminous Vein. It's definitely still early in the process, and I have so many projects that this one is a bit on the backburner, in part because I hate figuring out random generation and it'd feel more right to have a more official vibe to it with art & stuff. Anyway I do however think some of it is cool as hell so I put out a poll asking people what they'd like to hear about; you guys chose my problematic trans rep, who I dont have much to say about that I didn't already put in its description, so I'll just put it in full:
Hollow, Goddess of Rot
It/its, she/her, they/them
Feared among mortals to its elation, Hollow is a heavy shadow of positivity in the pantheon of gods. It loves trying to find new ways to disgust and horrify mortals, sometimes going so far as to create minor planes to trap them in and play with them. It, however, is not a real threat to anyone; her domain only ever affects those that have already died.
While plenty of wildlife loves her, human cults are rare to form, but those that do are often social outcasts, finding beauty in not just the way rot provides new life, but to death on its own merit.
Hollow is the shambling corpse of the first dead god, born in the abyss that could not be filled by anyone else. Its skin is grey and thin, tearing at the joints; its eyes have long been forgotten by physical existence; its form is too old and rotted to make out what the dead god once looked like. There's a gaping hole in the center of her neck, leaving its voice whispy, almost pained. They have a series of spindly, metal legs modeled by Eralth, the God of Craft, to support their slowly withering divine legs. Smaller beings of rot reside in the fungi and holes growing around their flesh. Hollow is extremely proud of the body they claimed, and, even as the gods respond to her presence with discomforted silence at best, they will all admit that she shows more joy than the first dead god ever did, or most other gods in the pantheon, for that matter.
Hollow loves dead things and is, therefore, happy to help runners escape hell so they can fulfill their full potential as dead things. She only shows confusion when asked for clarification.
Core Mechanic: Rot
When enemies inflicted with rot die, their bodies will remain to fight alongside you, becoming undead. Undead have the same actions made on the GM turn, but directed at enemies, and their health is based on how much rot you inflicted on them.
Boons of Hollow:
Rotting Wounds: Your weapon attacks inflict 1 rot
Trail of Death: Inflict 3 rot when you move away from an enemy
Decay: When you kill an enemy with an attack requiring 2 actions, they are given 1 rot
Spores: Your cast inflicts 2 rot to all enemies in Close range of the target.
Contagion: All undead attacks inflict 1 rot.
Self-Actualization: You can choose to target actions or casts on yourself, dealing harm but giving you any included rot effects as well.
Angry Dead: All undead deal +1 harm
Slough: Living targets inflicted with rot will take +1 harm.
Probably should've guessed the website with all the freak transgenders would vote for the freak transgender, now everything after her is gonna be a letdown. This is my best girl and also literally me so if anyone is mean to her I'll kill yo u
I'm not entirely sure how many possible boons I want the gods to have, Hades has a massive swathe of them but it turns out that can be kinda hard. I might add more mechanics to the core combat system to play with, the big issue I'll have to deal with is the randomness and the fact that the upgrades aren't weapon specific
Congrats! You read this far! or scrolled down and clicked words! You are now granted voting rights on what I should bring up next. if you want
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months ago
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The Werther Project: Part One
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst
Summary: Dean's worst fears come to light when he and Sam mess with something that shouldn't have been messed with in the first place.
Season Ten Masterlist
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3
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x
For the past week, Dean has been trying to practice using your magic. You haven't come back to the Bunker since you left the cabin in Des Moines, and he doesn't really care. You're not here which means he gets to practice without you knowing he has your magic. The best place to do that is in the backyard you made. No one is around to enjoy it so it's become a breeding ground for magic.
Dean looks around the destroyed backyard with a sigh. The basketball net is shredded, Sam's garden looks like a car ran right through it, and the wooden gazebo is in pieces on the ground. If Dean continues this way, he will destroy everything else. Dean creates a ball of blue magic between his hands and tries to hold it but it shoots out of his hand and to the ground. Instead of the ground absorbing it, it bounces back and hits him square in the face.
"Fuck!"
"I take it it's not going well?" Sam asks.
"I don't know how Y/N did this. It's so damn hard!"
Dean conjures a ball of magic again and tries to lift Maryann's playset up but all it does is explode next to the swings, causing bits of hard plastic to go everywhere.
"Great," Dean scoffs.
"Have you tried reading the journals and books about the Sapphire Witch?"
"Yeah, I did. Multiple times. It's completely useless because I don't understand how easily it came to them. God, I wish Y/N was here to help me," he sighs sadly.
"Well, I got a lead on the book." When Sam told Dean he didn't destroy the book, he was pissed but it's the only thing that is going to help you so he's grateful that it's still here. "I'm going to talk to Rowena. She might be able to help."
"I don't like bringing this to her."
"The only other person who can decode it is Y/N but she'll destroy it. So, Rowena is my plan."
"Just go," Dean sighs. "I'll try not to destroy much else."
When Dean is alone again, he thinks back to some of your most magical times, one of them being this backyard. Magic looks easy when you're the one who was doing it. If you can create twelve of you to fight Cas then he can do a simple levitation spell. He doesn't need to be an expert on this, just enough to take you down. He takes a deep breath and tries again.
Rowena agrees to meet Sam at a restaurant only because she wants something. Sam gets there first and takes a seat in the back. Rowena strolls in moments later all doled up like she's going someplace fancy.
"Samuel," she grins and sits across from him.
"Rowena. I know you know we have the book."
"Yes, I do, but my help does not come for free."
"As I suspected. What do you want?"
"There's only one thing you could possibly do for me that I can't, at least presently, do for myself. Kill my son. He's expecting it from me. He already has his stinking minions on high alert. If you're wondering how a mother can get to the point of wanting her own son--"
"No, I'm really not," Sam cuts her off. "I'll do it. I'll kill Crowley. First things first, can you read the book?
"Of course I can. Besides the Scarlet Witch, I'm likely the only witch alive who can understand such old, dark magic. Just not in its present form. Allowing me to look at this book is bold even for you. I'm your mortal enemy. I've tried to kill you, your witch, and your brother as recently as last month. You wouldn't have come to me if I wasn't your last resort. You're desperate. You can stop pretending you're not. Now, I can't read the book in its present form, but there is someone who could. Nadya. Grand Coven witch."
"Where do I find her?"
"You don't. She's dead. Long ago. Murdered for her life's work. Her decryption formulas and her codex are what you can find. Bring me Nadya's codex, and I'll break this text right open and give you your cure."
"Where do I look?"
"If I were you, I'd start at home. Who do you think murdered Nadya and stole the codex in the first place?"
"The Men of Letters. I'll be in touch."
Sam heads back to the Bunker only to find Dean asleep in his room. You're still nowhere to be found but he can't care about that. He knows how hard this has been for Dean so he has to find this cure as fast as he can. You're his best friend. He'd do anything for you. Plus, the longer you go without your soul, the more it's going to hurt when you finally do get it back. Sam finds a bunch of stuff in the storage room that he moves into the library. Inside one of the boxes is an audio tape reel. He doesn't want to wake Dean so he plugs headphones in and listens to it.
"Please, let's come to order. Men of Letters meeting minutes--May 16, 1956. On the matter of Cuthbert Sinclair's expulsion."
"This is hardly your first offense, Cuthbert. You've been cited for disciplinary infractions seven times in the course of your tenure. This enchanted vault of yours, this Werther box has a warding so potent it achieves a theoretical rate of, in your own words, ninety-eight percent lethality."
"Extreme measures were warranted. The Coven is desperate to get the codex back. The Werther box works," Cuthbert explains.
"All too well, I'd say. Working in secret, embarking on this project without oversight left two fellow Men of Letters vulnerable to your most potent magics. Fletcher and Martinez were members in good standing. Fletcher chanced upon the box and died in two hours. Martinez heroically tried to shut it down. We found him dead on the floor beside the box, his wrists cut," Markham says.
"I already apologized for that accident. I refuse to do so again. Why are you all so small-minded? Hmm? We were brought here to do great things, to take risks, and to bring the fight to the monsters of this world. Yet, to a man, you choose instead to molder in these stacks. You are not men. You are NOT men. You're librarians, nothing more."
"Before we rule on what is to be done with you, I'm prepared to give you a chance to secure our leniency. Tell us how to shut it down. The box is still in St. Louis with the codex. It's still a danger."
"Let me tell you what you can do with your leniency, Markham. You know, I saw the writing on the wall. I knew you cowards would shut this project down, which is why I built it the way I did. There is only one way to silence the Werther for good. Let's just say Martinez was on the right track. I doubt you lot have the guts but you're welcome to die trying."
A door slamming sounds and Sam can only imagine Cuthbert left the room.
"Markham, would you have us keep trying?" another man asks.
"The box is to be interred and guarded where it stands, in perpetuity. Bury it."
Sam turns off the tape and looks through the records where he finds the Men of Letters headquarters in St. Louis. He takes out his phone and calls Rowena. It takes three rings but she eventually answers it.
"I was in the middle of taking my nap, Samuel. I'm over three hundred years old. Beauty sleep isn't optional."
"I've been looking into the thing we discussed. I got a lead, but it's guarded by a violent enchantment. I need a spell to break the spell."
"The Cabirian invocation. Easy to obtain. Good all-purpose disenchantment."
"Great. Thanks."
Sam is about to hang up but Rowena speaks again.
"It's not recommended for amateurs. In inexperienced hands, the invocation has a way of fizzling out. I could come. You might need me."
"I'll take my chances. Thanks," Sam says and hangs up.
"What are you taking your chances on?" Dean asks when he walks into the library.
"I got a lead on the codex. Are you up for it?"
"Give me ten."
Sam and Dean travel to St. Louis and pull up to a run-down-looking house. The white paint is chipping on the outside of the house, the yard is overgrown with weeds, and there are piles of newspapers sitting on the front porch.
"So, you want to do this or shall I?"
"Wait here."
Sam gets out of the can and walks up the porch steps, careful for the one step that's bowing in. He doesn't think anyone is living in this place so he doesn't bother knocking. He tries to look into the window on the door but there is a curtain closed so he can't see much. He takes out his lock pick and tries to use it but the barrel of a gun comes out of the letter box and whoever is on the other side is pointing it at his pelvis.
"Bad idea."
"Whoa! I can explain!"
"Yeah, don't bother. You have three choices: get arrested, get your bits blown off, or get back."
"I think I'll get back."
"Attaboy."
He walks back to the car and looks at Dean with wide eyes.
"Yeah, she threatened to shoot me in the dick."
"Really?" Dean chuckles.
"Dude."
"Alright. From what I gathered from Google, this family moves into this long-vacant house. One week later, three of them were dead at their own hands. The whole family was wiped out except for the daughter, Suzie, whose house is still under her name. I'm figuring she's the one who nearly unmanned you back there."
"Yeah, well, this long-vacant home used to be a Men of Letters chapter house. Remember Magnus?"
"You mean the dickwad ex-Men of Letters that tried to make a zoo exhibit out of me and YN? Yeah."
"Before he was expelled, he built Werther, a magical box with a deadly alarm system. Werther is buried somewhere in this house. It was supposed to have been guarded, but I'm guessing that plan went out the window when Abaddon massacred the entire membership in '58. The house stayed in limbo until some lucky family bought it. Werther's a time bomb and it needs to be defused. Not only is this in our wheelhouse, it's our responsibility."
"Our responsibility?"
"We're Men of Letters. It's our legacy."
"Alright. Different plan. She's only seen you. You sneak in the back and find it while I distract her. Think you can manage that?"
"Yeah," Sam rolls his eyes.
Dean walks up the porch steps to the front door and knocks while Sam runs to the back without being seen. He looks down at the letterbox, remembers what Sam said, and covers his dick with his hands as if that will stop a bullet. The door opens and a woman steps out with a gun pointed right at Dean.
"What did I say?" Dean squeaks when he sees the gun and looks at her with wide eyes. She frowns when she sees it's not Sam and looks around. "You're not.... Fella tried to.... What do you want?"
Shit, say something. Anything. Anything will do. Just say words.
"You saw him? Oh, tell me you did. I'm sorry, but my name is Dwight Twilley. I'm with the neighborhood watch. We're looking into a few recent break-ins, and if you saw the guy it would be mighty helpful if you gave a description. If I could--if I could just have a minute of your time?"
Dean steps into her home and squeaks out the word "time" but clears his throat to keep his composure. She looks around and closes the door before joining Dean in the living room.
"Tall, white fella. Pretty hair."
"Right. It's a nice house you have here, uh..."
"Suzie."
"Suzie. Do you live here alone?"
"Just me and Gus."
"Gus?" Suzie raises her gun in response. The kettle begins whistling in the kitchen so Suzie walks over to it with Dean following her. "So, all alone in this big house, huh? Must get lonely even with Gus."
"Yeah, well I'm used to alone."
She pours herself two cups and puts two tea bags in them. She offers a cup to Dean but he shakes his head politely. With her back turned to him, Dean looks at the back door and sees Sam trying to break into the basement door. If he's going to hide something as big as a Werther box, it'll be in the basement. He gets the lock open and gives a thumbs up to Dean.
"No, thank you."
"Been alone here since, uh, '80? After my family died, my Aunt Pauline moved in. She took care of me and raised me for a few years."
Dean hears something move in the basement and he coughs loudly to cover up the noise.
"So, what happened to your aunt?"
"I told her not to go in the basement. No one goes in the basement."
"What's in the basement, Suzie?" She looks out the window with tears in her eyes. She turns back to the kitchen counter and grabs a knife. "Ma'am you okay?"
She immediately turns and points her gun at Dean who backs up in fear.
"Oh! Whoa! Suzie!"
"My social skills may be rusty but I'm no idiot. The doorbell hasn't rung in months, and two visitors in one hour? One breaking in, and the other asking all sorts of questions about..."
"I told you, I was from the neighborhood watch."
"Yeah, yeah, neighborhood watch. Right. Boy, have you seen this house? There's only one thing in here worth getting at, and it sure as hell ain't me. You came for the box. Whoever left that Godforsaken thing down there.... I knew someday, someone would come for it. I swore never to let that happen. He's downstairs isn't he?"
Well, the gig is up.
"He's my brother, and we're here to help you."
"You call him up here. Now! You call him up here! Now!"
"Sam! Sammy!" Dean yells. "She wants you up here, now!"
Suddenly, a loud boom sounds from the basement that terrifies Suzie.
"No... No! Get out! Get out! Out! Out! You bastards!" Suzie rushes Dean toward the front door with her gun trained in front of her. He stops by the front door and looks at her who has tears in her eyes. "You let it out!"
Both he and Suzie look toward the stairs where there is a bright green mist. It flies all around the duo before entering their bodies through their eyes. Both of their eyes are yellow-green as the mist takes control of their minds.
"Dean!" Dean blinks and his eyes return to normal. "Dean!" He sees the gu in Suzie's hands and puts his hands up as he joins his brother's side. "Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy."
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"Put the gun down. We can talk about this, okay?"
Something passes by the brothers from behind and Suzie's eyes go wide.
"What was that?" She looks at something between the brothers with fear in her eyes. "Oh, my God."
"What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know."
"Stay back. Stay back!"
"Go!" Sam and Dean jump out of the way just in time for Suzie to shoot her gun at her bookshelf. She must be seeing something that isn't there. "What are you doing, huh? You don't have a plan. You don't have a defense."
"No!" Suzie yells from her office door.
"Suzie!" Sam yells and leaves the living room to head to the office.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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tooxmanyxships · 7 months ago
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Hey so if you’re up for it can you write something for princess cake with the prompts ❛ do you think i'll ever be worthy of your love?  ❜
❛  i want to be the person to make you happy. the one person you can always come to with whatever you need.  ❜
No pressure though feel free to decline/ignore
Angsty princess cake is the best princess cake
 
"Do you think i'll ever be worthy of your love? "
Jenson thoughtit was a fair question, considering.... Well, considering everything that had happened over the past years.
The incrusiable pain Jenson had watched Nico go through as his best friend turned into mortal enemy number 1.
And the worst part of it all was that Nico had been in love with said mortal enemy for most of his life.
There were times when Jenson thought Nico would never get over it. Would never consider getting into a relationship with someone who wasn't Lewis Hamilton.
But now lately he'd had more hope.
Now Nico had the same job as him, being a reporter. Now that he didn't seemm to talk about Lewis as much anymore.
Yet---when they were on the paddock, Jenson could still see the longing looks from Nico towards one particular side of the Mercedes garage.
Could hear the fondness in his voice as he gushed about Lewis when he did something well.
Sometimes Jenson thought Nico was embarassing himself, because Lewis never gave him the light of day.
Not that he knew of, anyway.
But anyway...Jenson thought it was only fair he asked this question. He really hoped for an answer.
A positive one.
So, when Nico didn't immediately answer him, he tried again.
"I want to be the person to make you happy. the one person you can always come to with whatever you need. "
The look on Nico's face said more than enough.
More than he wanted to know.
He will never be that person.
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specialagentartemis · 2 years ago
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Driving me crazy (in a good way, I find it an absolutely FASCINATING framing) how Epic: The Musical presents Odysseus telling his name to the Cyclops and how it's framed, emotionally.
This crucial moment is an act typically told and interpreted as one of his primary moments of hubris, taunting, unnecessary gloating revealing his clever ruse - the 19th century poet William Cullen Bryant translated this moment:
Thus to the Cyclops tauntingly I called:— “ ‘Ha! Cyclops! those whom in thy rocky cave Thou, in thy brutal fury, hast devoured, Were friends of one not unexpert in war;
His men tell him "seriously, do not tell him your name, what is wrong with you, let's just go," but he continues,
And then I spake again, and angrily:— “ ‘Cyclops, if any man of mortal birth Note thine unseemly blindness, and inquire The occasion, tell him that Laertes’ son, Ulysses, the destroyer of walled towns, Whose home is Ithaca, put out thine eye.’
We get it, Odysseus thinks he is so clever, and wants the Polyphemus and anyone else who asks to know it was he, Odysseus, King of Ithaca, who did it. And this moment of pride and gloating and telling Polyphemus his name is what dooms him and his crew.
Epic: The Musical reverses that emotional context. In "Warrior of the Mind," we see an Odysseus who is successful and gloating and kinda hubristically trying to one-up a god - after he kills Athena's boar.
ATHENA Well done. Enlighten me, what's your name?
ODYSSEUS You first, and maybe I'll do the same.
ATHENA Nice try, but two can play this game.
This is Odysseus at his most confident and in control, and he's playing smug little "no u" games with a goddess. Refusing to give his name first is a power move; he wants Athena to introduce herself first to show just how impressive she finds him. (It's a good thing Athena thinks it's cute rather than insulting.) (I also think it's extremely relevant that at this point in the narrative, he's a teenager who hasn't seen war or committed atrocities yet.)
So the ending of the Cyclops Saga shows us the opposite. After escaping from Polyphemus, Epic shows us an Odysseus who is not confident or emotionally in control. Epic has been leaning heavily on Odysseus's role as captain and leader with a duty to his men, and losing his people - including his best friend - so catastrophically leaves him in shock, grief, and anger. His call to the Cyclops here isn't a "if anyone asks you why you're blind now, tell them--" it's "the next time that you dare choose not to spare, remember them - remember us - remember me." It's a scream of grief and rage. It's a follow-through of the concept that his comrades will not have died in vain. It's a, how could you? The war was supposed to be over! We were just trying to go home! This isn't an Odysseus who feels in any position to gloat. Even Athena characterizes it as "reckless, sentimental at best," rather than prideful.
This is one of the big things I mean when I say Epic: The Musical makes Odysseus much more heroic and moral according to modern values than he's portrayed in the Odyssey. We are much, much more willing to sympathize, and empathize, with a protagonist who makes really bad decisions because he was driven by love and grief and a desire for mercy over violence than a protagonist who makes really bad decisions because he thinks he's the smartest specialest boy around and wants to make sure his enemies know it.
And I'm not necessarily saying that in a bad way. I think this in particular is a super interesting adaptation choice, reversing expectations and making Odysseus's doom read to us as genuinely tragic rather than "what the fuck did you expect, you dumbass."
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littlest-w01f · 10 months ago
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Murderer
Feyre x Rheana (my oc, Rhysand's sister) [Feysand ship]
For @feyreweekofficial
Feyre week 2024 Masterlist
Day 1: Immortal with a mortal heart
Summary: Feyre has a talk with Rheana about how she deals with having to kill Fae and the enemy armies
Cw: mentions of murdering people
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The Inner Circle had just returned from the battle at the Summer Court, seeing all the death and destruction that she, herself, had caused and that her friends had done, going through enemy lines, the amount of death she had seen had taken a toll on Feyre as she stood on the of the balconies of the House of Winds looking out to sidra.
"My lady?" Rheana called out to her, standing in the doorway to the balcony of Feyre's room, "Is everything alright?"
Feyre chuckles, turning to face Rheana, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that title from you of all people."
Rheana came to stand next to Feyre, looking out in the same direction, she waited for her to talk, knowing her question was handing in the air between us.
"How do you deal with it?" Feyre asked instead, when Rheana raised a brow in her direction she continued, "The... The killing, Rhysand said you were his executioner, his..."
"Right hand." Rheana supplied with a smile.
"Yeah, his right hand," Feyre smiled back, "So, how do you deal with having to kill people? You must have killed so many Fae."
Rheana nodded after her question, "Yes, Feyre, I've killed many Fae for my Court, for my Court I've killed armies, spies, and those who had tried to hurt my family. I've tortured folks for information, before Azriel took over that job."
"And each kill has been easier than the last," Rheana whispered softly, then it hit her what she wanted to know. "Dealing with those deaths also gets easier Feyre, you learn what method works best for you with dealing with the blood on your hands."
"Rhea, how do you do it?" Feyre questioned, an uncertainty in her eyes.
Rheana motioned to the sidra with a tilt of her head, "Come with me, I'll winnow us down and then we'll walk."
Feyre nodded and gripped her hand, for a second darkness clouded them, they were soon in Velaris, just under the House of Winds. They walked to the water body while Rheana talked.
"The first time I killed, I was around 80," She started, "I had to kill Illyrian males to survive, I had not simply killed, I did things I wasn't proud of, but I did it to survive. After everything was over, I didn't think I could move on from what I had done."
"I spend years trying to figure out how to deal with my hands being bloody, especially after Rhys was High Lord, I had decades to feel what worked well for me." Feyre listened carefully, placing her hand on Rheana's shoulder while she talked, "There was going up and down the steps of the House of Winds, but with how long it took for me to get things out of my head, I simply got tired."
Feyre was hesitant when they reached the sidra, "So, have you figured out a way?"
Rheana chuckled, looking down at the river flowing, "There is no proper or accurate way to deal with these emotions, what works for me might not work for you, you'll figure out what works well for you."
"I stand here, or by a waterbody joining the ocean, and think of what I had done. I acknowledge it, and let it go." Rheana sighs, looking up to the waters, "All your thoughts are just waves, and you are a mountain peak they can't even reach."
Feyre looked on, closing her eyes to focus while Rheana talked, Rheana began talking about the lives she had taken, "I felt them being carried in Seraphim, I realised I had to let them go. Even if they were on the other side of my sword, they were still living beings, I may be Rhys' executioner when it comes to the Court of Nightmares and be a warrior in battle, but I'm not the Mother. I can't decide to take someone's life. I couldn't carry those lives on my shoulders."
"Feel, Feyre. Rhysand told you under the mountain that it's good to have a human heart. So feel, feel their deaths, acknowledge what it did to you, then let it go. Let them go." Rhean opened her eyes, noticed the tears on Feyre's cheeks and rested her arm over Feyre's shoulder.
Feel. Feel.
Feyre breathed in, She'd killed an innocent Fae male, a male who did not deserve it. She breathed out, she had killed to save a meal for her family, to save a deer for her family, to keep their stomachs full so that they wouldn't starve.
Acknowledge what it did to you
She breathed in again, She'd killed an innocent Fae male and female under the mountain, other Faeries who didn't deserve it. She breathed out, the thrust of an ash dagger in their hearts had changed her, she was a killer now. She had killed to save people. She saved people. A killer, a killer who saved people. She was a bad person, a bad person for good reasons.
Let it go. Let them go.
She breathed in again, She'd slaughtered her way through Hybern's army in the halls of the Summer Court Palace. She breathed out, she could feel the blood on her hands, blood that wasn't there. Not anymore. She'd killed to keep the Summer Court standing. She had kept another court safe, out of their kindness they had done it, not to force Tarquin to take back his blood rubies that had her name on it.
Let them go. Let them go.
Feyre opened her eyes, and she could feel Rheana's violet eyes focused on her. She looked out to the Sidra, her eyes glossy with tears. She exhaled louder, and her tears touched the ground.
Acknowledge it, what it did to you.
She was a killer, but she was stronger. Powerful, she was powerful. A weight released off of her shoulders.
Feel it. Feel.
It had made her powerful. She let go of the innocent souls she'd taken out of the world, but she held those who had struck first, she held those with her, as a reminder that she was now powerful. Stronger than she'd ever been.
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{general taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria}
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s-creations · 1 year ago
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26 Ways to Feel Mortal - J: Joint
26 Chapters based around experiences that newly arrived Geno experiences while trying to find the Star Pieces.
Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms, Super Mario RPG Rating: Teen and UP Audiences Relationship: Mario/Geno (Nintendo), Mario/Princess Peach (Nintendo) Additional Tags: Rating for Teen needed for later chapters, but shouldn't be to worrisome, I'll have warnings if I'm worried, Poly relations!, Main characters will always be named, Minor characters will arrive as needed, the chapters are not in a specific order, just meets the needs of the given word, please be aware of spoilers.
Warning: Loss of body parts. No blood mentioned, but it's still a violent scene.
Inspired by @nintendonut1 artwork - Link
Joint: (noun) 1 - A point at which parts of an artificial structure are joined. 2 - A structure in the human body in which two parts of the skeleton are fitted together. 
Geno truly thought that, at this point, he was ready for anything. Sure, there were a lot of things he’d not experienced, this world was huge. But he felt far more comfortable now than when he first arrived. No doubt pulling confidence from the people he was traveling with and calling his friends.
Or weird rivals.
Or little brother.
Or crushes. 
Regardless of the titles, Geno felt his safest when he was surrounded by his new connections.
Even fighting didn’t freak him out as much as it used to. It was a strange rhythm he’d become used to. Nothing really surprised him anymore.
.
.
.
The Axem Rangers were a weird bunch (which was saying something with what the party had seen so far) as well as a bit of a challenge. The team of heroes and Bowser had never faced off so many enemies at once. Along with the fact that they pulled out a larger weapon near the end of the battle as one final push to possible victory. Which did result as Rangers expected.
‘The Blade’ was crumbling away as Red frantically climbed out of it. The rest of the Rangers ran further into the flying fortress. No doubt trying to prevent further damage as it all started to fall from the sky.
Mario was trying to shepherd his team towards the side of the large ship. Frantically calling everyone over as the foundation beneath them cracked in half. 
Geno was doing his best to avoid the appearing holes and falling debris. Focusing on getting over to Mario, ignoring what wasn’t important. 
“Hey, Mario!”
Even if the human’s name was called, Geno still turned. Red, who’d just gotten out of the now fully destroyed weapon, had thrown his ax. At least, that’s what Geno saw, as the stance the Ranger was in was familiar. But where had the weapon go-
It felt as if something hit his arm. Geno stumbled as he felt suddenly off balance. Looking down at his right arm discovered that it had been fully cut in half. Right where his arm could bend. The portion no longer connected to him hitting the metal ship with a heavy thud. 
“If you’re going to break my toys, then I’m breaking yours in return!” Red laughed. 
He could see that he’d lost his arm, he’s clearly damaged, but Geno couldn’t feel anything. Stuck in his confused stance as his eyes remained focused on the price of him no longer connected.
Was he breathing?
Was he shaking?
Was the world still falling apart around him?
His eyes followed his fallen arm as Peach quickly picked it up. Looking as panicked as Geno knew he should be feeling like. At some point, Geno wasn’t sure when, Mario had picked him up. Carrying the still stunned puppet off the fortress. Geno was still unresponsive as they landed on the side of the volcano. The falling fortress disappears into the rocky pit below.
“Hey… Hey, Geno? Can you hear me?” Mario asked quietly, trying to sound calm with his shaking voice.
“...I lost my arm.” Geno replied back weakly.
“I know, but you’ll be okay. I promise. Peach will take care of you.”
Geno jerked away when Peach went to place the broken pieces together. 
It was as if he was hit with the full force of the situation. 
Geno started screaming.
He wasn’t really aware of it until Mario held him closer. Cradling the puppet close to try and offer some comfort for the situation. Geno desperately clinging to Mario with his only working hand as his throat turned raw. 
Geno was unaware when Mario gave a quick nod to Peach. Who gently took the damaged arm once more. Concentrating as she slowly mended the two pieces together. 
The three remained this way for a few minutes. Peach only pulled away when she knew the arm was fully attached again. Geno passed out in the hero’s arms, no doubt his body worn down from the panic and pain he’d just gone through. Mario’s grip tight on the limp puppet. 
Mario looked up as Peach placed a hand on his cheek. The princess offered a small smile, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling both in. Mario happily allowing himself to collapse into Peach’s hold. 
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thelampisaflashlight · 2 years ago
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Cowbell and Special's Variety Hour
[They're best friends, they're mortal enemies, they could be something more if they weren't such nerds. Cowbell and Special go on a tiny adventure.] Below the cut.
"This is stupid..." Cowbell says in a monotone, leveling an emotionless stare at Special, who pouts dramatically, "...And I am stupid for agreeing to join you."
"You're just being cranky because you know we're gonna have a lot of fun and you're jealous you didn't think of it first." Special replies, placing his hands on his hips, "I thought your macabre little tushy would be down for some good old fashioned ghost hunting, you already talk to dead things all the time!"
Cowbell tilts his head, his neck giving a sharp click, "Dead plants and dead people are different... mushrooms though. Mushrooms talk. They scream. Often."
Special smiles with his teeth to mask the sudden shiver he feels up his spine.
"Mushrooms aside, I think it would be fun!" he laughs nervously as Cowbell continues popping his stiff joints, his blank gaze never leaving Special's face, "...Bells?"
"Yes, Phillip?" Cowbell asks, bending fully backwards to crack his spine.
"...You're scarin' me, bud."
"It is unintentional."
"I see... Anyway, ghost hunting!" Special claps his hands together, "I was going to invite more people, but as it would turn out, you're the only friend I have that was even remotely interested in coming along!"
"That is because I am the only friend you have." Cowbell intones, straightening his back with a snap, "Others do not appreciate your noises."
"...Harsh."
"Is it? I see..." Cowbell nods, "I enjoy your sounds, is what I meant to imply."
"Awww, buddy, that's so sweet, weird way of putting it, but sweet!" Special chirps, "You know, I knew there was a reason I liked you! You're such a good pal, who's always keeping me humble-"
"I often enjoy when they stop, too."
"You're so mean!"
Cowbell gives a stilted laugh.
Special sighs bodily, wraps an arm around Cowbell's shoulders, and starts walking, "Bells, bestie, never change."
"...?"
.
.
.
The chapel on the far side of the abbey's grounds has been abandoned for nearly two decades now, having been badly damaged in a fire when some less than friendly evangelists learned who it belonged to, and, well...
"At least no one died." Special comments, making his way through the now overgrown building, brushing his hand over a moss covered pew, "Primo never was the same after that happened though..."
Cowbell hums and traces his fingers over the smooth bark of a tree growing out of the floor.
"This place is more sad than haunted." Special says, "But I'm certain there's ghosts here! There's always creepy shit goin' on."
"Hm... stone tape."
Special blinks.
"What?"
Cowbell crouches down, feeling the rotten wood tiles, crumbling a bit between his fingertips, "Residual haunting, maybe."
"Ohhhh... is that what that is?"
"Do you know me to be a liar?" Cowbell asks, tilting his head backwards to stare at him.
"I'm not saying that-" Special watches Cowbell bring his arms back and walk across the floor on all fours, upside-down, "-Why are you like this?"
"I find happiness in your perpetual torment." Cowbell responds, ambling up the wall like a demonic spider, "...And I am told I have poor impulse control as a result of what the humans call ADHD."
"Oh, same." Special says, following Cowbell's ascent, "Still, I don't know how that applies to the cryptid vibes you're givin' me, bro."
"...Phillip."
"Yes, Bells?"
"We are demons."
"Oh. Oh right, shit."
Cowbell drops down.
"You must do more weird shit." he says, dusting himself off, "It is good for you."
"Right, right, I'll keep that in mind." Special sniffs, "Uhh, so, whatcha think? Any ghosties around?"
Cowbell looks around the chapel, then shakes his head.
"Aw... Man, this was kind of a wash, huh?"
"Not entirely." Cowbell says, gesturing towards what's left of the chapel's stained glass windows, at the sunset filtering in through the glass, "We got to see something of your namesake."
"I don't know what's so 'lover of horses' about this situation, but okay...?"
Cowbell swats the back of his head.
"It's special."
"Oh, oh, awww, you're being cute again~" Special coos.
"You are ruining the moment with your noises."
"...You like my noises."
"...Unfortunately."
For a moment, they just stand there, enjoying the sunset, but right when Special is about to suggest they leave, Cowbell turns to him.
"Special."
And, fuck, his heart skips a beat, the setting, the soft expression that flits across his friend's face for a fraction of a second.
"Y-Yeah?"
"...You have bird shit on your shoulder."
"Goddammit."
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bi-focal12 · 26 days ago
Text
Prompt requests open for December!
This time I’m doing a 500 word limit challenge to practice effective storytelling and characterization so if you’d like to send a request please leave a comment or send an ask like this:
[Character] + [headcannon] + (optional) [canon-verse or AU]
If you don’t have a preference for the setting, I might play around with AUs or maybe different aspects of the canonverse 
I’m gonna limit this to MHA for now but that’s still a pretty wide range of characters so please don’t hesitate to request something! I'd really love to hear your headcanons! As always, please only sfw requests
Here’s one i wrote for practice as an example but i hope i get much better with practice (fic below the cut!)
500 words | Katsuki Bakugou + afraid of frogs + AU: no quirks (and this is part of a larger au of mine where aizawa/present mic are bakugou’s guardians)
"You!" Katsuki shouted, socked feet planted on top of the dining room table and Aizawa's heaviest textbook held threateningly above his head. 
Aizawa paused with his hand still resting on the doorknob of their home, blinking slowly. The bag on his shoulder was heavy with ungraded essays. 
"Me," he agreed flatly. "What are you doing on the table?"
"I've fucking told you not to leave the backdoor open!"
Aizawa hummed, pulling off his shoes and setting down his things in the entranceway. Vaguely, he remembered stepping onto the back patio with a cup of coffee early this morning, though he couldn't remember opening the door at all, let alone sliding it shut. 
"How many frogs are in the house?" Aizawa asked, stepping around the table to warm up the kettle. He could feel Katsuki's glare doing its best to burn a hole through the back of his head. 
"Four," Katsuki seethed. 
Aizawa kept a careful ear out while he opened the cupboard above the stove, debating between the cat mug he'd found at a yardsale and the orange one Hizashi had made for him last christmas. Faint croaking carried over from the living room. And maybe the staircase. 
"Didn't you fucking hear me?" Katsuki demanded, his reflection blob-like in the silver kettle. 
"Four frogs," Aizawa repeated, though he suspected there were only three.  
"Four pests," Katsuki shot back through gritted teeth. 
"I believe the neighbor's call them 'beloved pets', and I'm not willing to cover up another murder like I did with Rafael."
Katsuki scoffed, though the sound was reedy with unease. The croaking had grown louder. 
"Stupid thing shouldn't have jumped at me while I was using the blowtorch."
"Do you hear that, frogs?" Aizawa called out, flicking off the stove. "Beware of blowtorches in the hands of teenaged boys who should not have had them in the first place." 
Aizawa spared a backwards glance to find the textbook finally drooping, though Katsuki's grip on the pages remained white-knuckled. 
"Are you ever gonna let that go?"
Aizawa leaned his back against the cold countertop, cradling the orange mug between his hands and blowing lightly at the steam. "Not in your lifetime." He could see a frog resting on the third stair. "Why don't you call your friend already so she can catch them?"
Katsuki's left eyebrow twitched- temptation, Aizawa was certain- before drawing low. 
"Fuck no! Frog Face is my second mortal enemy!" Then he crossed his arms. "Besides, I saw some exposed wiring on their house yesterday."
"You cannot blow up their house," Aizawa sighed. He could still remember a six year old Tsuyu returning a handmade eviction notice to their door, Rafael poking out of her shirt. 
"He spelled eviction wrong," she'd said before skipping away, unbothered. 
Aizawa tipped his head to the side. "But at least your tactics have evolved."  
Katsuki glowered. “You're not. Helping.”
"Fine," Aizawa said, pulling their butterfly net from its place on the wall. "I'll play hero."
"Bastard," Katsuki hissed. “Hurry up.”
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