#it looks SO GOOD in eternal weaving too

[monochromatiica]

hehehehehehehehehehhe

[kirain]

Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Oof...

There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.

As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.

Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.

In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.

Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.

Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.

[winxanity-ii]

FOXED IN [1/2]

ship: fem!fennec fox!reader x various!beastar warnings: non-explicit ( maybe cursing/profanity; sorry y'all I gotta loose mouth) word count: 1.7k a/n: heheh, I got back into beastars so idk might dabble with this more in a full fic way, we'll see I got so many running in my head 🤣😩 Part 2

★·.·´🇧‌🇪‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇦‌🇷‌🇸‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The summer sun was hot as it shone down, beating relentlessly on the over-crowded public pool.

You sucked your teeth in annoyance, shifting on the edge of the pool where you'd been perched for what felt like an eternity.

Kids ran wild, yelling and splashing without a care, their tiny feet pounding on the slick concrete, almost slipping every time they turned a corner too sharply.

You couldn't help but flinch each time one of them ran too close, kicking up water that sprayed in your direction.

The constant nudging and the unending splashes were starting to grate on your patience.

You felt droplets of water continuously flicked onto your legs, each one colder than the last, and it took everything in you to not growl under your breath.

You were here because you'd bitten your tongue earlier and agreed to babysit your niece and nephews while your sister went grocery shopping. Free of charge, might you add.

It wasn't even that she asked nicely—it was more like you felt the weight of her tired eyes and the desperation in her voice, and before you knew it, you found yourself nodding and watching her rush out the door.

The one thing that made it bearable was the promise of her buying your little snack list as payment, but the longer you sat there, the more those snacks seemed not worth it.

The sound of another big splash brought you back to the present, a wave of water washing up over your legs, some of it splattering onto your shorts.

You sucked your teeth again, this time louder, and decided you'd had enough.

"Yup, I'm about to dip," you muttered to yourself, pushing off the pool's edge.

You weaved your way toward the crowded pool chairs, squeezing through the narrow paths between towels and bags until you made it to your family's little space.

Your aunt was watching from under an oversized sun hat, and one of your nieces sat beside her, eyes glued to your phone screen as some YouTube video blared.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you hand Tee-Tee her phone real quick?" you called out, trying to keep your voice as gentle as possible despite your growing irritation.

The little girl looked up, blinking at you, and then obediently handed the phone over.

You smiled at her, genuinely happy she listened.

She was one of the good ones, you thought sourly, the kind of kid that didn't make you want to rip your hair out. If it had been any of the others, they probably would've thrown the phone into the pool in a fit of rage.

With the phone in hand, you quickly shot off a message to your sister:

𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐈𝐒 Sorry, too many kids around, my ass is starting to itch. Deuces.

You didn't even bother waiting to see if she'd read it. Whatever she had to say, it could wait until you were far, far away from the chlorine and chaos.

Pocketing your phone, you told your aunt and niece bye, promising you'd see them tomorrow for family dinner.

Your aunt waved you off absentmindedly, ogling at some shiftless, buff lifeguard on duty through her binoculars; from where she got them, you had no fucking clue.

You rolled your eyes, grabbed your stuff, and began making your way out.

A moment later, you were nudged by a running kid, and you nearly fell into the pool but caught yourself just in time.

You called after the child, "Slow the hell down, you fucking crotch goblin!" huffing before turning back to leave, only to slip on someone's wet croc and fall backward into the pool.

The cold water hit you like a slap. For a second, everything was a blur of chlorine and light refracting through the surface.

But what should have been a normal kick and push back up to the surface was delayed, not only by the overcrowded surface but by your waterlogged bag tugging you down, dragging you deeper.

You opened your eyes underwater, the sharp sting of chlorine burning them instantly. Panic set in as you struggled to pull off your bag, your arms flailing in the heavy water.

Your lungs burned, screaming for air, and you kicked harder, almost breaking the surface, almost tasting the chlorine-soaked air.

But the chaos above—the kicking legs, the waves—pushed you back down, the pressure growing in your chest.

The muffled shouts and splashes from above seemed distant, distorted by the water, like you were in some other dimension entirely.

The pressure on your chest grew, the heavy weight of your bag pulling you deeper, and you kicked harder, desperate to reach the surface.

But no matter how hard you fought, the surface seemed just out of reach—so close, yet the world above felt like it was slipping away.

The chlorine-soaked water filled your senses, sharp and chemically, burning the back of your throat as panic set in. You thrashed, trying to tear off your bag, your arms sluggish and heavy.

And just when your vision began to blur with darkness, something changed.

The water's cold grip vanished.

Your lungs didn't burn. The pressure in your chest evaporated.

You blinked...

... and opened your eyes.

The light came back.

The sound, taste, smell, and touch—it all came back.

The sound hit you first—not muffled and distorted anymore, but sharp and loud. The blare of honking horns, the distant buzz of conversations, the whoosh of a passing bus.

Your eyes adjusted to a new scene, sunlight flickering through tall buildings instead of the pool's glistening surface.

You were on the curb, your body pressed against warm pavement that was a far cry from the frigid pool water.

The smell of chlorine had been replaced with something foreign—a mix of gasoline, hot asphalt, and street food.

Your damp skin clung uncomfortably to the fabric of your clothes, but it wasn't the soggy, heavy sensation of being underwater.

It was just... hot. Sweaty. Real.

You blinked again, trying to take everything in—the movement, the noise, the overwhelming presence of this place.

A yellow cab zipped by, honking loudly at a pedestrian. Your head jerked back, face scrunching up in confusion.

A cab?

The air here was different too—thick with city smells, far from the sharp, sterile bite of chlorine.

The ground beneath you wasn't cool and slick like the pool's edge; it was rough, heated by the sun, and every nerve in your body screamed that something was wrong.

Your eyes scanned the scene around you. The towering buildings, the bustling people, the blur of colors as everyone moved with purpose.

Okay... this is definitely not the pool.

A strange sinking feeling began settling in your stomach.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you like that, didn't see you there, haha!" a voice cut through your thoughts.

You looked up, your eyes focusing on the person in front of you—a blond boy, maybe in his late teens. He had warm, honey-brown eyes that seemed to glint playfully in the sunlight, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled made him look approachable, even charming.

But what made you falter were the two fluffy ears on top of his head—golden Labrador ears.

He was dressed in casual clothing and spoke with a friendly smile, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to understand what you were seeing.

At first, your instinct was to put as much distance between you and the strange hybrid Labrador in front of you as quickly as possible. But you hesitated, not wanting to make a scene.

Your mind raced, trying to calculate if you could get away without drawing attention—maybe find the nearest phone booth and dial up the US' Area 51 unit or something.

Instead, you gave—what you hoped—was a sweet smile, saying, "No worries, I'm fine." All those years laboring away as a server had finally paid off in moments like this.

It seemed to work because the Labrador's tail began wagging happily from side to side, his whole demeanor brightening. "Oh man, I'm so glad you're okay! You really took quite the tumble there," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Here, let me help you up," he added, reaching out a hand.

Before you could even decline, the dog-boy easily picked you up, cradling you in one arm like you weighed nothing.

Wait...

Horror struck you as you realized just how small you were compared to the hybrid-man.

You were nearly three times smaller than him. His arm felt like a steel beam against your back, and his strength was undeniable, his tail wagging all the while.

The man's golden Labrador ears fell slightly, his tail going still as he noticed your horrified expression at being picked up.

He hastily apologized, setting you down as gently as possible, his face flushed. "Oh geez, I'm really sorry about that. It's just—second nature, you know? My roommate's a fennec fox, and he's always needing a hand," he rambled, clearly nervous.

His words were abruptly cut off when you heard someone call out, "____!"

Your ears twitched, and your head swiveled towards the sound. The voice was a bit deep, carrying a warmth.

Before you knew it, a small tan figure dashed over and crashed into you in a tight hug. The impact almost knocked the breath out of you, but the boy's jolly laughter softened the surprise.

"I missed you so much, cuz! I can't believe you finally transferred to Cherryton!" he exclaimed, excitement radiating off of him.

When he pulled back, you took in the sight of a cute, tan boy. He had dark, curly hair, and his crooked teeth were visible as he smiled broadly. On top of his head were two large light brown ears, twitching slightly.

You blinked, staring at him, unsure how to react.

Then, your gaze drifted over his shoulder, taking in the numerous human-animal hybrids walking around as if everything was normal.

Slowly, your eyes lowered to your own figure, and you finally noticed—felt—a small, rhythmic thump against the back of your upper thighs.

Turning your head slightly, you saw a small black tail.

What the fuck...

[dekariosclan]

Attention Galemancers: Gale thinks you are wonderful

In celebration of Galemancer week, this post is dedicated to all my fellow wizard-lovers 💜

We’ve talked plenty about how much we love Gale—but in this post I want to talk about how Gale Dekarios loves us, too. Very, very much.

From Astarion-to-Gale pipeliners, to the gamers who played BG3 not intending to romance anyone, to players who thought they’d just play the game casually and mayyybe smooch the hunky Druid elf guy or hot fiery lady, we all played BG3 thinking we had a pretty clear idea of how it was going to go—only to find ourselves rizzed by the wizard.

But we didn’t just choose Gale—Gale chose us.

Remember, Tav does not initiate the romance; Gale has to choose to start the weave scene. So if you’re reading this and you’re a Galemancer, it’s because Gale wanted you to be one.

That’s right Galemancers: Your Pixel Husband©️ took one look at you/your Tav, liked you immediately, and told the other romanceable companions, ‘I beg your pardon, this one is mine.’ The rest is history.

Gale loves us just as much as we love him—and this goes for ALL GALEMANCERS, no matter how your romance went:

Did you go into the game already liking Gale and actively wanting your Tav to romance him? Then Gale applauds your excellent taste. It’s one of the many reasons he chose you! To like so many things about him, and right from the start…he thinks your generosity is quite wonderful.

Did your Tav choose another companion first, and only romance Gale later on/during a second play through? No matter. He knew that you would come to your senses eventually! (just like he’s sure Minthara will appreciate him at some point…) He just had to be patient. It’s fine; you were worth the wait, after all.

Did you get Sneaky God Gale and have to re-do your run/start a new one to get your human proposal ending? Gale knew from the start that you were special—and that you would love him enough to replay the game and fix any bad outcomes. He knew you would do whatever was necessary to correct his path so he could marry you! Seeing you do all that for him…well…it only makes him want you more.

Did you encourage Gale to become a God & have him ascend your Tav, too? Then GodGale is beyond thrilled he chose you. Like he says in the human epilogue: ‘I could spend an eternity in your company.’ Now he can finally do that! (One small request—please keep his ambition in check, but do allow him to continue to troll Raphael as often as he likes.)

Did you romance Gale, but have your Tav go to Avernus with Karlach to help her? Gale always knew you had a heart of gold, and that’s one of the reasons he chose you. A little distance & time won’t hurt a bond like yours—and he’ll have his hearth & home waiting for your return.

Did you read online guides to do Gale’s & Tav’s romance correctly and get the ending you wanted from the start? What divine calculus plucked you from the heavens and thrust you into Gale’s arms? He knew you were studious and detail-oriented from the moment he met you, which is why he chose you! To know you studied so hard in order to get a good ending for him…none have loved him so purely before.

— — —

In short: Gale Dekarios doesn’t toss the ‘L’ word around lightly. He only picks someone to be a Galemancer if he truly thinks they are wonderful—and that’s not just anyone.

In conclusion: Galemancers, you are wonderful!

Now go enjoy the rest of this week with your well-earned and well-deserved pixel wizard—who chose you 💜

[shizuturnspages]

Yandere Zhongli x gn!reader

Summary: Headcannons and one shot

Warnings: Curse words

The image has been taken from Pinterest. Credits to the owner.

❥ Zhongli's a man of contracts, and you'd better believe that as a yandere, he'll make sure you're fucking bound to him in every way possible. He'll find ways to tie you to him, whether it's through promises, obligations, or literal contracts that you can't break. You'll feel like you owe him everything, and he'll remind you constantly that you're under his care, his protection—his control. 

❥ Zhongli's lived for centuries, so when it comes to obsession, he's patient as fuck. He won't rush things—oh no, he'll take his time, slowly weaving his influence into every aspect of your life. Before you even realise it, he's completely fucking consumed you, like the slow erosion of rock. And once you're fully under his control? You won't even remember a time when you weren't his. Time is on his side, and he'll use every second to his advantage. 

❥ Zhongli's authoritative as hell, and he won't hesitate to use that power over you. His voice alone will make you feel like you've got no choice but to obey. If you ever try to defy him? Oh, he won't shout, won't rage. No, he'll simply remind you, in the calmest tone, of his strength and the consequences of breaking his trust. And you'll know deep down that trying to escape him is like trying to outrun a fucking mountain— impossible. 

❥ Zhongli's protective to the point of suffocation. He'll shield you from every danger, but that protection comes at the cost of your freedom. He'll say it's for your own good, that the world is too dangerous for you to face alone. And with his power, his knowledge, how the fuck are you gonna argue with him? You'll feel like you need him to survive, even though it's his obsession that's the real danger. 

❥ Once Zhongli's decided you're his, there's no fucking going back. His obsession is as solid as the stone he commands. You're not just someone he cares about—you're a part of his fucking legacy. He'll carve his presence into your life like an eternal monument, and even in his rare moments of affection, you'll feel the weight of his possessiveness. To him, you're his greatest treasure, and he'll guard you like a dragon with its hoard. 

You never thought this was how things would end up. When you first met Zhongli, he was calm, collected, wise—everything about him spoke of stability. A man of few words but with a presence that filled every room, like a mountain casting a shadow over the land. You were drawn to him almost immediately, but you didn't realise that the pull you felt was a trap. A gentle hand guiding you into his carefully laid snare.

It started slowly. He never demanded anything, never outright stated his intentions, but there was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, that made it clear. You were his. Not in words, not in action—at least, not at first—but in the way he was always there. Like a pillar of stone, unyielding, watching over you.

You thought you were just growing closer to a friend. After all, Zhongli had always been so composed, so polite. How could someone like him have ulterior motives? But that's exactly what made him dangerous.

He didn't have to rush.

He had time.

You remember the first time you felt it—the weight of his control. You had wanted to go somewhere—just a short trip, a brief escape from the quiet routine that had begun to creep into your life. But when you told him, his calm facade didn't waver, but there was a subtle shift in his eyes. Amber, golden, burning with something cold and ancient.

"I see," he said, his voice steady. "And you intend to go alone?"

There was no threat, no anger, but the way he phrased it made your heart race with unease. You hesitated, sensing the underlying tension in his question. When you explained that it was just a harmless trip, something to clear your head, he nodded. Always calm. Always understanding.

"I understand your need for space," he said, that deep voice of his soothing. "But the world is dangerous, especially for someone like you."

You frowned. "Someone like me?"

His eyes held yours, unblinking, calculating. "You are important to me. I cannot allow anything to happen to you."

It should have been sweet, right? A man caring about your safety, wanting to protect you. But there was something in the way he said it, something in the depth of his gaze that made you feel like you weren't being protected—you were being kept.

Still, you went on the trip. It wasn't far, just to the outskirts of Liyue, but that's when you realized the truth. No matter how far you tried to go, the wind would always blow in Zhongli's favor. You were barely out of the harbor when a storm hit—something that wasn't in the forecast, something that didn't belong in the season. You had to turn back. And there he was, waiting for you with a soft smile and an outstretched hand.

"You see," he said, his tone dripping with something that felt too much like triumph, "the world is unpredictable. It's much safer to stay close."

From then on, the leash tightened.

Zhongli didn't need to control you through harsh words or violence. His control was much more subtle, much more terrifying. He'd always make suggestions that sounded so reasonable, so logical.

"You shouldn't go there," he'd say, placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's dangerous."

"You don't need to worry about those things anymore," he'd murmur, his voice gentle as he took care of every little detail in your life. Bills, errands, even your fucking social life—Zhongli had woven himself into every part of it, all under the guise of making things easier for you.

At first, you were grateful. Who wouldn't want someone as reliable as Zhongli helping them out? But then, as time passed, you started to realise that it wasn't just help. He was taking control of your life, piece by piece, until there was nothing left that wasn't touched by his influence.

You tried to pull away, to assert your independence. You told him you needed space, that you wanted to do things on your own. But Zhongli? He didn't get angry. He didn't raise his voice. Instead, he nodded, looking at you with those calm, calculating eyes.

"If that is what you desire," he said, his voice steady. "But understand that I only wish to keep you safe."

Those words. Keep you safe. It was always about safety with him. But the way he said it, the way he watched you—it didn't feel like safety. It felt like a fucking cage.

And it wasn't just his words. It was the way things would always seem to go wrong when you tried to break free. The weather would turn. Friends would cancel plans. Shops would close just as you arrived. At first, you thought it was just bad luck, but the more it happened, the more you started to suspect the truth.

Zhongli was controlling everything.

He had eyes and ears everywhere—his power, his connections, his age. He wasn't just some ordinary man; he was the fucking Geo Archon. He had influence over the city, over the land, and over you. And the worst part? He never acted like he was doing anything wrong.

One night, you confronted him.

"Zhongli," you said, your voice trembling with frustration and fear. "Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me live my life?"

He looked at you, calm as ever, as if your words were nothing more than the wind blowing through the trees.

"I'm only protecting you," he said softly, his voice like a lullaby meant to soothe. "The world is filled with dangers you cannot comprehend. It's my duty to keep you safe."

You shook your head, trying to make him understand. "But I'm not free! You're suffocating me, Zhongli!"

His eyes darkened, just for a moment, and you saw the flash of something deeper, something ancient and terrifying beneath the calm surface. "Freedom is a fragile thing, one that is easily lost to chaos. I offer you stability, safety—a life without fear."

He stepped closer, towering over you, his presence as unyielding as the mountains themselves. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a way that would have been comforting if it weren't for the suffocating weight of his obsession.

"You don't understand now," he whispered, his voice low and deep, like the rumble of distant thunder. "But you will. In time, you'll see that I am the only one who can truly protect you. No one else can offer what I can."

You felt your knees weaken under the intensity of his gaze. His touch, though gentle, felt like a shackle—an invisible chain binding you to him. And deep down, you knew there was no escape. Not from Zhongli. Not from the Geo Archon.

He had time, and he would wait as long as it took for you to accept it.

The days that followed were worse. Every attempt you made to break free, to reclaim some semblance of your old life, was met with quiet resistance. Friends you reached out to stopped replying. Places you went for solace became inaccessible. Even your thoughts seemed clouded, as if Zhongli's presence had seeped into every corner of your mind.

He never raised his voice. He never lost control. But every time you defied him, you felt the subtle shift in his demeanor—the quiet authority, the unspoken reminder that he was in control. That no matter how hard you fought, you were already his.

One evening, after another failed attempt to escape his grasp, you returned home to find him waiting for you. His eyes were as calm as ever, but there was an edge to his voice, a weight that made your heart race with fear.

"You're exhausted," he said, stepping forward with that unnerving grace. "You've been fighting against something that cannot be fought."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, and you felt the warmth of his touch—the heat of the earth beneath your feet, the crushing pressure of a mountain's weight.

"You belong to me," he said softly, his voice laced with finality. "I've waited long enough for you to understand. It's time for you to stop resisting."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as if the very ground beneath you was conspiring with him. His hand slid up to your chin, tilting your face to meet his gaze, and you saw it—an unbreakable resolve, a fucking ancient force that would not be denied.

"I have made a contract," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "A contract to protect you, to keep you safe. And I will not allow you to break it."

His lips brushed against your forehead, a gesture so tender it sent chills down your spine. But it wasn't love. It wasn't affection. It was possession. Pure, unyielding possession.

"You are mine," he said, his voice steady and unshakable. "And nothing will ever change that."

As Zhongli's fingers trailed down your face, his voice dropped even lower, his breath hot against your ear.

"But don't worry," he whispered, his tone dark, seductive, and irresistible. "I will take care of you, forever. I will cherish you, protect you, worship you like the treasure you are... because you are mine."

His lips hovered just above your skin, and you felt the weight of his words sink deep into your bones, binding you to him.

"And I never let go of what's mine."

[muddyorbsblr]

mercy upon ourselves

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Your multiversal duty of punishing perpetrators of infidelity in their afterlife takes an interesting turn when you see that the betrayed party is one of your variants | loose 'sequel' to 'all will be alright in time'

Pairing: Loki (God of Stories/Time) x Reader; Will Ransome x Reader (different Reader)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ | talks of infidelity; steamy moments at the end; (technically) mass murder; Cora Seaborne (yeah she's a warning); Will Ransome (in this case he needs to be a warning, too) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: this loosely takes place in the RTC 'multiverse', but no prior reading of the series is required; Reader is the goddess of fidelity

Dick-tionary: steamy moments (but not outright smut) starts at "Loki let out a low chuckle"

Your duty as goddess of fidelity, in theory, was simple enough. Upon the death of a betrayer, you were to choose their punishment in their eternal afterlife. After your first few thousand cases, they all began to meld into the same old tale, often feeling as if they all even wore the same face.

That was until this particular story. Where the face of the deceased and betrayed wife held…your own.

Before you could even call out to him, Loki was by your side in a heartbeat, laying his hands gently on your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the back of your head. "I can sense your unease, little Princess. What troubles you?"

Together you looked through the glowing branches that surrounded you, each telling the story of a different timeline, a different universe. Until you finally found the one which held the case you needed to review. The universe where your echo had died of a broken heart upon learning that your husband, Loki's echo in the form of a Reverend William Ransome, betrayed you to have an entanglement with a newcomer in your quaint village of Aldwinter.

"This is no variant of mine," your husband seethed. "I could never belittle our love like this, the thought alone pains me."

You took his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I know, husband. This timeline is simply…a fluke. Our echoes, our variants? They are not reflections of ourselves. His flaws and failures are not your burden to bear."

"Failure," he repeated, his top lip curling up in a sneer as he looked upon the faces of his variant and his mistress, living together under the same roof, sleeping in the very bed that your variant breathed her last. "That is precisely what this branch is. Perhaps it should just drift away…to wither and rot."

"Loki we should not punish an entire universe for the mistake of one man. There are still countless lives within this branch--"

"And your variant is no longer one of them because of the mistake of his one man. He deserves to suffer."

"And he will," you reassured him. "His suffering falls within my purview. It is my Norns-given duty to see to it. And while I know we both would relish in watching as this pathetic coward of a man sees the end of days upon him, I cannot in good conscience have it be at the cost of an entire universe. But perhaps the village that was complicit…the village that stayed silent to protect their precious reverend's reputation."

"What do you have in mind, my love?" He pulled you close to him, embracing you from behind, hands caressing your sides. Soothing himself from the unease of seeing how his variant dared take you for granted.

I was made to be yours. Words that resonated so deeply into both your souls. Words he used when he first confessed his love to you. The same words you yourself uttered when your memory spell had broken and you found him that fateful day eons ago.

The same words you both used within your new vows when he returned to you. And used ever since.

And somehow this insipid trifling man thought himself above those words? Dare even spit them back in the face of the same entities that weaved your two souls together so intricately that it bled through every timeline and universe known to him?

All the suffering in the Nine Realms would not be enough for this William Ransome as far as he was concerned.

"Well, husband, we are in a rather…unique circumstance," you mused aloud, a little sound of contentment slipping from your lips when he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I bear the same face as this Y/N Ransome…and they reside in a town that is riddled with a rather superstitious lot. And my variant…she deserves her revenge, does she not?"

Had it not been for the gloomier and grayer than usual state of the sky, it seemed a typical day in Aldwinter. It had been years since the spectacle that was your passing occurred, and the townsfolk had finally began to warm to the presence of Cora Seaborne. Sure, she and William would still get looks out of the corners of their eyes, especially when she would emerge from the house in a dress that people could have sworn was yours, but other than that, no one made any trouble for them.

Not to their face. Not anymore.

The cold heaviness of regret had made itself at home in the pit of your widower's stomach ever since that day, the day that he betrayed you. No amount of rationalizing could have him absolve himself of his sin. Any which way he went with his internal arguments, they would all land in the same place.

The blame fell entirely on him. And he would have to live with the consequences of what he'd done for the rest of his days.

In the form of the tombstone that would steadily erode with the passing of time.

And in the form of the new family he was all but strong armed into taking on, if only to spare himself more scandal and ridicule. He'd already lost the respect of a good number of the congregation, this would smite the number down to a paltry handful if he turned his back on his then pregnant mistress.

Though despite all their efforts at maintaining what they thought they'd found with each other, they had lost the babe. Twice. As if God Himself willed it so that no child would ever result from their treachery. A fitting punishment, as far as Will was concerned.

Love may not have been a weakness, but lust most definitely was. Lust was what drove him to commit the treachery that led to the loss of love.

He should have resisted. Walked away. Ran, even.

Perhaps if he had, you would still be here, serving as a bright ray of sunlight even in the dark gray overcast over your little town. Perhaps your children wouldn't have turned their backs on him and he would be allowed the privilege of getting to see them build their own families, lead their own lives.

Instead all he had was darkness and silence. And he had no one to blame but himself.

"William!" Cora's shriek traveled across the marshes.

Moments like these, he preferred the darkness and silence.

He tried to take in a breath before turning to face her, the picture of a doting partner. "What is it, Cora?"

"The look--the looking glass, I saw--"

Her stammering was cut short by the sound of Matthew frantically ringing the alarm bell. "TIDE INCOMING! EVERYONE GO INSIDE! GET TO SAFETY!"

One of the fishermen in the approaching boats stumbled forward until he fell limp in the reverend's arms. "The waves, they be the size of mountains. Bigger even. God is angry with us."

"No," Matthew wheezed, coughing out sea water. "That wasn't God, out there in the waters. Not our God. That was some sorceress, some witch. Demoness. We must find safety." He began to usher every villager he could find into the church. "She don't look like the type that shows mercy."

"She?" Cora spoke, pointing a shaky finger at the curate. "You…saw her face? Tell me does she look like--"

"Enough talk about the evil looming in on us, Mrs Seaborne!" he snapped, pointing his finger at the Ransome house. "Go home. May this evil, whoever and whatever she may be, have mercy on us all."

"What was that, Cora?" Will hissed as they made their way home. "You look completely beside yourself."

"I could have sworn I saw Y/N's face in the looking glass," she said shakily, gulping for breath, shuddering when she said your name aloud once more. "Will, she looked angry. Vengeful."

"You're not making any sense, Y/N is gone," he said tersely, a familiar lump forming at the back of his throat as he forced himself to acknowledge your absence from his life. He ushered her along, trying to ensure that she at least would not stumble too harshly. "I laid her into the ground myself, gave her eulogy."

"I know," she huffed. "But I also know what I saw, that was no hallucination, Will--"

"I've read texts that there are some pregnancies that alter with the minds, the perception of the expectant mother. Perhaps this is simply one of those cases," he waved off. "Look, Cora we're almost home. We can wait out the storm and then when this is all over you can rest. We all can."

She simply nodded and they cross the marshes back to their home, only to find Francis, pale as freshly pressed cardstock, awaiting them by the door. "Mother, F-Father, there's a woman--" he sputtered out, pointing at the open door.

And then you stepped out. "There you are. Cowards."

William's heart stopped in his chest watching you walk out of your old home, what seemed to be billowing fabric drenched and clinging to your skin, hugging every curve that his hands had longed for since your passing. Even soaking wet, your dress proudly gleamed a brilliant emerald green, and there was a glow that seemed to radiate from underneath your skin.

You were no longer of this earth. You were something…more. Something above them all. And it showed in the way you held yourself, in your gaze as you looked upon the marshes that held your former home. As you looked upon the husband that survived you, your upper lip curling in derision as you saw the bump protruding from Cora's stomach.

"Y/N…" he whispered your name, your sheer presence bringing him to his knees. "Sweet wife, you have returned--"

"Hold that rancid thought," you silenced him, raising your hand in the air as if grasping for something. In an instant, his words ceased, feeling as if his tongue had swollen and became as heavy as lead in his mouth. "You do not get to call me your wife, Reverend Ransome. Not since you sullied your vows and laid with this London whore."

Cora took a step toward you, opening her mouth as if to defend herself, or perhaps her lover. But you put a stop to that as well, raising your other hand in her direction, and suddenly she was forced to sink to her knees as well. "Please, Y/N," she pleaded with you. "Let us take this inside there is a tide coming--"

"Do you mean this tide, friend?" you spat the last word out, as if it tasted bitter on your tongue. Suddenly the tide was steadily approaching the shore, rising to a height that would completely engulf and decimate Aldwinter once it bore down on them. And you rose from the ground, floating well above the roof of the Ransome home, the reverend, along with his lover and her son, looking up at you in sheer horror.

"What do you want from us?!" Francis yelled into the sky, reminding you of how mortal worshippers would look to the sky and beg the gods for explanations. For miracles.

"I do not wish for you to give me anything, young Mr Seaborne. In fact, I wish to offer you all…a choice." You turned your gaze to the kneeling couple. "Get in the water. And perhaps I shall spare this town."

"Y/N please, this town is full of innocent lives, no matter what has happened to you I know in my heart that you would never wreak this kind of devastation upon--"

"What has happened to me?!" you repeated, your shrieking tone piercing even through the deafening sound of the tidal wave still standing tall, waiting to descend. "Your lustful indiscretion cost an innocent life, William Ransome. There is no innocent life in this town. Not anymore. The people here chose to stay silent, to keep your affair a secret for the sake of preventing a scandal. Though that didn't seem to work out the way you'd hoped, did it?" You motioned toward the wave with a jerk of your head again. "Get in the water."

The wave grew even more violent, already taking in the fishing boats and pulling it into its dark abyss.

They both stubbornly stayed still, still kneeling on the muddy marsh ground staying silent. The tramp's hand twitched toward the vicar's, but his moved upward, as if wishing to reach for you.

It was always you, she realized bitterly. She may have him now, but only as a result of his momentary lapse in good judgment where his body chose another's. But his heart…his heart would always choose you.

When presented with any semblance of a choice, Will Ransome would crawl back to you on his hands and knees in a heartbeat. And now she must lie on the bed she made. The bed they both made.

Only when you pointed toward her son, her dear Francis, and he was lifted up from the ground, kicking and struggling in mid-air, did both of them make a noise. Calling out to you, pleading for you to put him down and stop the madness. "This is the last time I will repeat myself, adulterers. Get in the water. Or your boy here suffers first."

"Y/N, stop this," Cora spoke, rising to her feet. "Are you not tired? It has been so long, years, even. Francis was still just a little boy when you last saw him. He is a grown man now, how long will you let anger consume you?"

Even from this distance, you could see the ire in Will's features, clearly ticked off with the words that came out of his lover's mouth. "My darling, please. What must I do to atone for my transgressions towards you? I will promise you anything, do anything. Whatever you wish for, it's yours, please can we just go home?"

You lowered both Francis Seaborne and yourself down to the ground, the young man running immediately to his mother, quivering like a leaf in the wind. The disgraced vicar reached his arms out toward you, every muscle tensing and freezing in place when you rose your hand into the air again. "It is the actions of philanderers like you that make the mortals look down on me, consider me a lesser god."

"God?" Cora repeated in a sharp exhale. "Don't be ridiculous, Y/N--"

"Fools like you don't realize what awaits you on the other side of your mortality, where the fate of your eternal afterlife…falls to me," you cut her off, not bothering to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Adulterers doomed to suffer an endless loop of the consequences of their actions."

"My wife--"

"Is dead, Mister Ransome," you bellowed. From the corner of your eye you could see villagers gathering at their windows, the horror in their expressions as they began to speculate on what exactly had come to terrorize their quaint little town. "You killed her, there is no use in denying it. Your foolish, licentious choices brought her to her grave. For that alone, you will suffer once your feeble human life reaches its conclusion."

"If you are not Y/N Ransome, then who are you?" Francis asked, voice shaking as he held on to his mother. "Why have you come to wreak havoc in our lives?"

You walked toward the town's vicar, tears in his eyes as he watched you move closer. He reached for your hands, looking like a wounded pup when you swatted him away. "I am the goddess of fidelity," you answered simply. "When betrayers like you and your mistress cease your time on this mortal plane, you and everyone complicit in your torrid affair will be at my mercy."

The tide rose even higher, looming menacingly over the town in a dangerous arch, blocking out what little light they once had from the sun beyond the clouds. You grasped William's chin harshly, fear evident in his eyes, heart thundering against his chest.

"But your actions, your infidelity in particular…upset my husband," you spoke, holding his gaze as you  hissed the words inches from his face. "And for that, I am willing to bend the rules and begin your suffering ahead of time. Put forth the events that will thrust your pathetic souls upon my doorstep."

You rose from the ground again, rage for your fallen variant coursing through you as you heard them plead for forgiveness. For mercy.

"P-Please Y/N…" Cora sputtered out. "I will leave the town and no one will ever hear from me again, just please let me leave with my boy."

"No," you droned. "You have asked what you can do to atone, I presented you with a choice. Now I know how capable you both are of making choices, you've made several together, some of them even on the very ground you stand on. Which leads me to believe…you have made your choice. Stubbornly bargaining your way out of my wrath, out of your suffering. At the cost of this town you call home."

"You truly aren't Y/N Ransome, are you?" she spat out, a look of entitled indignance on her face. "The Y/N I knew wouldn't be this ruthless. She would have shown mercy--"

"Oh but I am showing mercy, you unworthy tart," you spat back. "For ruthlessness is mercy. Upon ourselves." With a flick of your wrist, the tidal wave was finally let loose.

And the little town of Aldwinter sunk into the water.

Before the tsunami crashed down and took you with it, Loki conjured a portal and pulled you back to safety, a bit of water splashing into your bedchambers before it closed. With a wave of his magic the water evaporated into the air, and your soaked dress was dried.

"Husband…" you spoke, a wide smile gracing your features when your eyes met his. You both were on the floor, the god cradling you in his arms as he pushed your hair away from your face.

"My darling wife," he breathed out, his own smile mirroring yours as he picked you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed. "Your flair for the dramatic has you reckless as ever."

He sat you on the edge of the bed, handing you a goblet of wine that did a quick job of warming you and canceling out the effects of the damp cold of Aldwinter.

"You should rest, my love," he said softly, moving to position himself behind you to undo the braids in your hair, carefully working his fingers through the wet strands. "This is the first time you wielded your newfound powers as a goddess, I can imagine your body feels overworked…and famished."

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled, causing your husband to chuckle and press a tender kiss to your cheek. "How did you know when to pull me back?"

"To start, I must admit that I was watching the spectacular show you put on, avenging your variant with such vigor," he whispered into your skin. His hands found their way to your shoulders, working away at the knots. "And our souls' threads are intertwined, little Princess. I can always feel when you need me. I was made to be yours."

"And I yours," you sighed contendedly, leaning against him when he wrapped his arms around you. When he cupped the side of your face, holding you as he pressed his lips to yours, you all but melted into his embrace. "I love you," you mumbled against his lips.

"And I love you," he murmured, continuing to kiss your lips as he maneuvered you to lie down on the bed. With a wave of his hand, the fabric that covered your skin changed to something much lighter, more sheer. One of your sleeping gowns, you surmised. "Rest, dear heart. I shall arrange for food to be brought to us for when you wake."

Your body was all too eager to obey the softly spoken command. The rest of you, however…well, after the ordeal in that despondent village on Midgard, the rest of you ached for your husband's touch. To wash away the muck of the marshes.

Loki let out a low chuckle, kissing along your clavicle as his hand roamed the side of your body. "I can always feel when you need me," he repeated, his tone holding a much more lustful intent than moments earlier. "And much as I want nothing more than to indulge in making love to my beautiful wife, I cannot, should not, be so selfish and ignore her body's need for rest." He made his way to your lips, allowing himself the tiniest sliver of decadence as he licked into your mouth. "You'll need your strength for what I intend to do to you later tonight."

Your breath hitched as images flashed in your mind of your husband teasing and pleasuring you, claiming your body repeatedly well until after the sun rose the next morning. In multiple places throughout your marital chambers. Constantly finding or making the time to bring you to orgasm in the midst of pampering you.

Suddenly it made sense why he would choose to deny you now…in exchange for a much more delicious reward just a few short hours away.

"Would you stay regardless, husband?" you asked weakly, already feeling yourself succumbing to the exhaustion and the slumber that your plush sheets promised. "Hold me?"

You weren't able to see the loving smile that graced your husband's face from your request. You only felt the soft kiss on your forehead before he positioned you to lay in his arms. "Gladly, my darling." He conjured a book into his free hand, ready to begin reading to you when a stray question entered his mind. "What of their souls, Y/N? What hellscape did you design for them?"

"I gave them what they deserve," you grumbled, shifting your position to hold him closer, your arm draping over his stomach as you laid your head on his chest. "Each other. They are doomed to spend their afterlife together, with Cora knowing that his heart longs for his late wife. And William having to watch from the sidelines as my variant finds new love. You have a stray echo that never found his fated, by the name of Pine. I presume by now they've found each other, starting a story of their own."

A/N: Hang on what's this…? Did I tease a future story at the end there? 😳 Why yes…yes I did 🤭 Ngl this year felt like I didn't get a whole lotta stories done especially in the latter half, but hopefully with everything finding a bit of balance, 2025 will look a bit different and I can set aside more time for story writing 💖

Ooh, and also I def got the idea to make this because of the "Get in the Water" song

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hey! I saw your writing for Miles earth 42. I was wondering if you could write what it would be like dating miles earth 42. Like some headcannons. Thank you!!

(hello! Sure I can and here ya go! Enjoy!)

Dating Earth 42 Miles Morales

I not gonna lie, he can be an ass at times

Especially when mad or annoyed or in arguments

Tries not to but is late or sometimes can't make it to daes and feels so bad

Tries to make it up to you the best he can

But other than that, he's probably the best boyfriend to have

Obviously before he was the prowler and before his canon event, he was just our Miles

After the canon, that changed but with you sometimes old peeks of that Miles bubbles up

He's protective

But in no way is possessive

You could do whatever you want and he would let you

Nobody is willing to mess with him or you because as you're doing your thing, he's nearby and watching you

If anyone looks at him and then to you, they can tell you're together

He's willing to fight if someone ever talks shit about you or makes you uncomfortable

Let's you braid his hair as long as you don't mess it up or pull on his hair too hard

He likes the feeling of sitting between your legs, his head like resting on your thigh as he just feels your hands making their way around his hair

It's a very comforting feeling and don't be surprised if he puts little pecks onto your thighs

Will not let you feel insecure, especially in like revealing or tight clothing because you just look so good

A sorta deep and sorta rough kisser at times, especially in the moment but in more soft and intimate times a slow and passionate kisser

Likes having his hands on your waist and sorta leaning you down as he kisses you, your arms around his neck and shit

Favorite place to kiss gotta be your neck and your jaw, he just has too

A hand always in your hip or on your back

Arm around your waist or around your shoulder

If you steal his clothes and he sees you for the first time in them he's gonna stare for a moment

Then just watch the smirk form as he comes up to you, kisses you and oh my Lord

Or he's hugging you from behind

Likes having his hands like roam your sides

Slips his hand onto your neck or weaves his hand into your hair, pulling you closer when you guys kiss

You can kiss him for an eternity and then some

Kissing you is like addicting to him

He always wants to make sure you're safe, and can handle yourself so he likes you to carry like a pocket knife or he taught you some shit

And if you get into fights he's obviously proud of you because you bet your ass you won

Makeouts are actually pretty common as he makes up kisses he missed

he either is hovering above you while you're on your back and kissing you

Or you're straddling him and kissing him, his lips slip down to your neck or your collar bone mind you

Or you're against a wall or he is against a wall

He likes flirting and making you flustered

He's an asshole with that shit

Calls you nicknames in Spanish or says stuff in Spanish, if you don't understand he does it even more

I feel after his dad he was more closed off, a wreck inside but wanted to be strong for his mom and you

You need to help with that and you di, you're practically his rock now who he goes to for anything, even when he doesn't want to talk

Just being around you helps him

He likes laying his head in your lap

It's just so nice and comforting to him, kiss his knuckles or play with his hands

"I love you, you know that, right?" Or "Don't worry, you got me." Is stuff he says on the daily

Hold his hand and run your hands over his knuckles and feel how relaxed he gets

He can hug you from behind, put his head on your shoulder and just stay there for god knows how long

He buys you a lot of shit to make up for what he cannot say as sometimes he can't say how much he loves and appreciates you

So he does stuff to show it

If you like cuddling he likes either having you by his side, arm wrapped around you with your head on his chest or him laying on your chest

Spoon him from behind, he loves it but will deny it entirely

Make him flustered, he'll be frozen for a minute before a real smile comes onto his face

On days where some shit is hard, either by being the Prowler he likes laying on top of you as you whisper shit into his ear

He needs stuff like that

If you got on with his mama he is not letting you go

Especially if his mom liked you because that shit is rare

Let's you steal his clothes on the daily

He sees you eyeing something when out with him, or he sees you about to buy something or have a new interest?

He's buying you it and buying you whatever you need

Go nuts, baby, he loves seeing the smile on your face

Play fights with you, likes pinning you down and just kissing you or tickling your side

He loves hearing your laugh and seeing your smile as they just calm him at the worse times

Likes sneaking away with you from anything possible

Little compliments mean so much from him, makes you feel good about yourself too

Arguments don't happen often but he doesn't yell at you when they do

He raises his voice but never yells at you

Some shit may slip, inconsiderate shit that makes him an asshole but he knows that immediately

Not the best at apologizing so give him time when he does come to apologize

Make him grovel ISTG

Nicknames from him are just so smooth and so- oh my god

Head on your boob and hand on your ass

I say no more

Will not let harm to you come no matter what as long as he breathes

He didn't plan on telling you he was the prowler for a long time

You had to find out yourself and he thought the relationship was over

He was saying over and over it was okay, he does it to protect his family and you, that he wouldn't hurt you and so on

You may need time but he understands

Always is sneaking in through your window also

If you have siblings and they meet him prepare because they now love him more than you

Babysits them with you and is now their partner in crime against you

He's so husband

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Just thought of this idea just now.

Can you do a smut with a yandere greek god of war x water nymph reader, with the nymph being chased by the god until he caught up with her and takes her to his bedroom, and the whole love making thing is more consensual?

Sure!

A/N: Also, sorry I'm answering this late again. Hurricane Helene came over my state so I was literally(and still am) preparing for the worst.

You were a water nymph. A lonely one at that. Also, a confused one, because you grew up alone with only water and the sealife to keep you company. You didn't even know what type of water nymph you were, all you knew was that both of your parents didn't want you. And so, here you are, living your life on the shore of some tourist beach.

"Do you always sit there?" A man with brown skin, red hair, and purplish-blue eyes asks, sitting next to you.

"Yeah, pretty much. I don't exactly have anywhere else to go," You respond, enjoying the feeling of the waves touching your feet. "What about you? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"Of course, I do. I go to lots of places," The man answers, blushing a little. "Say, what's your name, cutie?"

"Aqua...Aquata. Or at least that's the name others have given me But I prefer Y/N." You answer, getting up.

"Y/N, where are you going?" The man asks, seeing you walk into the ocean. "Y/N? Y/N!"

And with that, you're in the sea filled with inspiration. If he could travel everywhere, then you can too. Your first stop was the island that the sailors call Sirenum Scopuli. It was flowery and pretty, and the women were welcoming. For some reason, they said you smelled familiar to them.

Your next stop was the island of Thrinacia, where you found a crying cyclops.

"Excuse me, if I may ask, why are you crying?" You ask, standing in front of the cyclops.

"He took stabbed me in the eye! I'm blinded! I'm blinded! I can never see my beloved sheep again!" The cyclops cried, making you feel pity for the poor creature.

"Oh, I can fix it if you want. I've healed many eye injuries before," You say, getting an idea.

"Really, you'll fix my eye? I'm in your debt for eternity," The cyclops exclaims, a smile on his face.

"Yep!" You say, diving back into the water, and returning with the eye of a giant sea squid. "I've performed this plenty of times on animals. Hold on, I need to get the eye out."

You pull the cyclop's eye out and put the squid's eye in its place. You work your magic on the eye and use the liquid inside it to weave your magic through his nervous system.

"Ok, try blinking. Do you see anything?" You ask, standing back.

"YAY! I CAN SEE AGAIN!" The cyclops yells, jumping around and clapping. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!"

"Don't mention it, big guy," You exclaim, kissing his cheek.

"Here, take sheep's wool. It can be used to warm you up during the cold," The cyclops replies, giving you a cloak.

You accept the gift and continue on your way. As you travel through the ocean, an arrow strikes your arm. You scream in pain, your blood dying the water around you red. You hear men screaming above and force yourself to see the same red-haired man from the beach.

"YOU FOOLS! HOW DARE YOU HURT MY GODDESS?!" The man screams, letting his wrath decimate the soldiers above him. "My goddess, are you ok?"

"You? What are you doing here?" You ask, gripping the wool cloak.

"My dove, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Good."

He kisses your lips, and a wave of memories comes flooding back. You haven't been back on that beach in years. You've been living with him, your dear husband, Ares. One day you got into a fight with him, ran away, and had been aimlessly wandering through the human world until you eventually pushed everything concerning Ares and your life with him to the back of your mind.

"Ares?" You gasp, feeling his hands cupping your cheeks.

"The third. Ares the third," Ares says, looking into your eyes. "I had been looking for you for five long years. Do you know how much it hurt me to see you not recognize me on that beach?"

"Ares, listen, I...what were we even fighting about?" You ask, straddling your husband.

"I...we were arguing about your family-our family-both. Your family wanted to reach out to you, I was talking about wanting a baby, it all piled up and we had a really bad fight, and no words could describe how sorry I am. I should've let you reach out to your family, and I shouldn't have tried making a family of our own as if it was an acceptable replacement for your family."

"Oh...Ares. I-Is my family ok?"

"Yes. They've been living at my castle since you disappeared. They'd love to meet you."

"I'd love to meet them too."

~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome home, my goddess," Ares says, removing his hands from your eyes.

"Mom? Dad?" You say, seeing a siren and Triton.

"Hi, sweetie. We've got a lot to explain, but I think your husband really wants to talk to you. We'll be waiting at the dinner table," Your mom says, nudging your dad to say hi.

"Don't worry, I will return your daughter to you in a walkable manner," Ares says, guiding you to his bedroom.

The door shuts, and Ares is already kissing your body.

"Do you know how long I've missed you, missed your body?" Ares murmurs, kissing your neck as he slips his dress off your shoulders. "Please tell me you remember my touch?"

"I'm sorry..." You say, guiltily looking at Ares.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make you remember again," Ares whispers, feeling you up.

"A-Ares!" You moan as your husband kisses your breasts.

Ares sucks on your breasts as he pushes your dress off your ass. The two of you fall on the bed, and Ares grasps your hands. You see his toned chest peak through his white v-neck blouse and stare at it.

"Oh, you want my clothes off too?" Ares asks, holding back a smirk as he looks at your cute face.

"Yes, please. Take it off. Take it all off," You plead, rubbing your leg against his crotch.

Ares does as you say and you gawk at his glorious body and skin.

"What? Never seen a god before?" Ares mocks, stroking his 7 1/2-inch cock.

"Wow..." You gasp, closing your legs as Ares crawls towards you in all his glory.

"Don't worry, babe. I won't make a mess out of you," Ares responds, kissing your pussy and lining himself up at your entrance. "I'm going in."

"Mm!" You moan, your husband not moving to let you adjust.

"You're ok, you're doing good. I know it's been a while since you've had me inside you," Ares moans, resisting the urge to thrust. "Are you ready, my goddess?"

You nod your head and he begins to thrust. You gasp as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your hands gripping the sheets. Ares grabs your hands, guiding them so they're gently around his waist.

"You look so amazing!" Ares moans, speeding up. "I love you. I love you so much! I love you so much, I'll be with you even after the mortals move on to the next set of gods. I love you so much I'd kill the entire world and the pantheon for you."

"I love you too, Ares!" You moan, making your husband tear up.

He orgasms inside of you and kisses your sweet lips. His tears fall on your cheeks, and you look at your husband with pity. The genuine love for you flowing through his tears, send you over the edge, and you cum on his cock.

"Aw, honey, don't cry. I'm sorry I forgot about you," You apologize, kissing your husband's head.

"I've seen the bloodiest of slaughter and entire people wiped out from genocide, but you're the one thing I could never forget," Ares cries, laying his head onto your boobs. "Please don't leave me like that again."

You start to cry and wipe your husband's tears away. You kiss him, feeling his heartbeat calm down.

"It's ok, I won't leave you again," You say, touching your forehead with his.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hello I miss typed of my last request could you do a one shot of Tristan with a super affectionate female s/o who give him affection all the time no matter who’s around

Assuming your the anon I got one of them for then I get it. no worries! I gotchu!

Admist the bustle of the grand castle of Liones, your hands were intertwined and weaving effortlessly amongst the flurry of of courtiers and officials bustling about their royal duties. The polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of the chandeliers, and the opulent tapestries hanging on the walls seemed to whisper secrets of a time long past. Despite the formality of your surroundings, you were certainly anything but unrestrained.

"Today looks like a good day." You commented, turning your eyes to Tristan whom hummed in quiet, content response.

He agreed, that in itself was no lie. It had seemed that life had decided to take it easy on all it's children alike, from what Tristan could tell, his parents were in high spirits, the lively bustling of the officials and courtiers were swift and easy. People were helping each other on a whim.

But his mind was on you, it was as if your presence alone was a stark contrast to the otherwise rigid atmosphere of the palace. A whirlwind of warmth and affection that he held a deep appreciation for, his work was admittedly no easy task to take on, but this was just you and him, a much needed break.

There was a small, tentative smile on his face, freely out there for anyone to see. You could understand, that this was truly the very same Tristan you've come to know and love, not to say that you love all other side to him.

Tristan, ever the embodiment of calm and poise, would steal occasional glances at you, his emerald-green and blue eyes softening with a fondness that spoke volumes.

Although the both of you were ever the talkers, taking one turn after the other, there was nothing that needed to be said. This was a bond that was transcend too that of eternity, a deeply found understanding of one other in a way that could never be done for anyone else.

It was not uncommon for you to steal a quick, loving kiss from him, even with a room full of watchful eyes. Tristan, though usually reserved and glaring, responded with a tender squeeze of your hand, his demeanor betraying his contentment with these public displays of affection.

It was something about you, that alone had brought out a sense of peace and tranquility. Tristan couldn't fathom it, not one ounce, but in a way he could understand the shallow meaning of it from what his father had told him, when he once had asked about the love between his parents.

"It's like... a wide land, right? the battles you face together may be harsh, but after, you stand tall." Meliodas said, uncrossing his arms and patting the young boy's head, whom seemingly looked at his father with stout confusion.

Elizabeth, his mother, let out a soft giggle and crouched down. "You'll be able to understand what your dad means one day, don't worry!"

Tristan shook his head with a soft sigh at the memory, strolling forward along with you, keeping a gentle yet firm hold with your hand clasped in his own.

It is the way that this grandiose feeling of his grows so strongly, that he can't help but feel that his heart may as well burst out of his chest. Tristan was unsure, but oh so sure, in the grand dance of life, it's that one moment with your dancing partner, that even everything else slows down to a stop. Life could be telling you right then and there, that it they, the one and only one meant for you.

This intimate yet public dance between you both was a testament to your deep bond; while Tristan was known for his gentle and quiet nature, your boundless affection brought out a side of him that was softer, more vulnerable. As you passed through the palace, your joined hands seemed to spark a subtle, yet palpable sense of joy and unity, reminding everyone present that even within the grandiosity of royalty, true affection could flourish freely and beautifully.

[gffa]

Hiiii :D I was just wondering, do you have any good Marvel fic reccomendations? Your massive list of star wars fics is like the no.1 thing I go to when im in a star wars mood, and all of them have been amazing, so thanks so much for that!! I'm just curious if you have any good Marvel fic recs?? If not that's fine lol, thank you for your service 🙏

Hi! Lol, I had to sit with this post for a few days because "Marvel fic" is such a wide range of possibilities, like are we talking the comics or the live action shows? The Avengers movies? The X-Men movies? Which section of those fandoms? Avengers as a team? Captain America? Thor? Iron Man? Daredevil? X-Men: First Class? Just... anything? I don't actually have a lot of comics fic recommendations (mostly because it's too hard to wade through all the movie stuff because so many people cross-tag into the comics tags despite it not being comic fic that those tags are now useless), but my go-to for Marvel comics are always: ✦ Betrayal + Paradox Law + The Game of Empires by Valerie J It's hard to describe this series, other than that about ~15 years ago, it was an ambitious attempt at taking various elements of the X-Men comics and weaving them into a coherent whole, focusing on giving Remy an epic backstory to explain his origins and his powers. It probably wouldn't really fit with more recent comics, but if you're a fan of late '90s/early '00s X-Men comics, this was a hell of a ride with cool powers, surprising family twists, time travel, fun relationships, and incredible ramp ups to tense situations that explode in the best way. ✦ The Gestalt Arc by Lori McDonald Another old school fic centered around the Remy/Rogue relationship and taking them on an epic journey, in an alternate version of what happened after their kiss in X-Men #41. The ups and downs of how they work out their issues, the lives they try to lead with each other, finding their path forward together, it's still one of my favorites for the era. ✦ Anything by Traincat for the Young Avengers My favorite is grab a blanket, brother, but they're an author that I'd write a blanket rec for, if any of the summaries sound relevant to your interests! They also write Peter Parker/Johnny Storm, which isn't my area of comics, but I'd trust them with it! But primarily I'd route you to them for their super fun Young Avengers stories, the Teddy/Billy and Eli/Kate ones especially. ✦ Anything by silverspidertm2, X-parrot, takadainmate, or Mythtaken Identity for Journey into Mystery and Loki: Agent of Asgard-era fic. This is when I was in my prime era of reading Thor comic-centric fic, around Journey into Mystery and Loki: Agent of Asgard, when he was Kid Loki and then Teen Loki. There was a lot really fun worldbuilding or road trips or just feelings explosions fic from this era. Beyond that, my bookmarks are a bit of a mess, but you can scroll through them to see what you're looking for. My primary fandoms were: ✦ Daredevil TV, where I went in hard on Matt/Foggy (and some Matt/Foggy/Karen and Frank/Karen and a little Matt/Elektra), where I read voraciously for about a year before MCU burnout hit. Some faves are Double Blind by smilebackwards and Something Dumb to Do by poisonivory and jump, check parachute augustbird.

✦ Thor (MCU), which is actually the heart of who I was as an MCU fan, I spent a long time there reading a lot of fic and this will take you to my bookmarks with the pairings filtered out. I was a big fan of Thor & Loki's relationship so that's most of what's in there, and I always suggest starting with these three fics: ✦ Bargaining by proantagonist, thor & loki & odin & frigga & cast, time travel, 108.9k Faced with an eternity without his brother, Loki strikes a bargain to change the past. Post TDW. ✦ No Such Liberty by Xparrot, thor & loki & cast, 147.3k The first thing Loki said, after he had swiped his tongue over his lips to wet them, was, "You shouldn't trust me." ~ Following the attack on New York, Thor takes Loki back to Asgard in chains; but this does not mean that the god of mischief's schemes are ended, or that Thor has or ever will give up on his brother. But when Thanos threatens the realm to claim his lost prizes, on which side will Loki fall? [post-Avengers fix it] ✦ The Lullaby Singer by TheOtherOdinson, thor & loki & odin & frigga, 85k wip Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him. Or Odin could go himself. As a bonus, I have a few more Thor genfic recs here.

✦ Captain America (MCU), where sure I liked some gen fic but lbr I was there for the Stucky. I mostly read during the height of the post-TWS fervor and then tapered off a lot after that (given how hard they swerved away from their relationship) and I haven't read almost anything in the fandom since Endgame, but if you want some fun TWS-era fic, I put together this list recently. (To be fair, I also liked a lot of Steve &/ Natasha, Bucky &/ Natasha and Sam/Natasha, so you can find that in there, too.)

✦ Iron Man (MCU), where I liked a mix of some fun gen pieces and some Tony/Pepper which put me in the minority, but I don't care because there were some banger authors for both. If you're interested in them, I always liked pretty much anything I read by roboticonography. icarus_chained wrote a wider variety of stuff, but I've always liked anything I've read from them as well.

✦ Avengers (MCU), where I read a lot of fic, but it's kind of all mixed in together, even some sprinkled in Black Panther fic, some Spideypool that was super fun for a hot minute, some Guardians of the Galaxy characters showing up, etc. Step carefully if you're not interested in pairings (I read a fair amount of Tony/Loki and Steve/Loki in amongst the other stuff), but honestly by the end I was probably reading more gen than anything.

✦ X-Men: First Class-verse, which is my exception to not reading much for the live action versions of the X-Men, because I am a long time Pietro Maximoff fan and while Peter wasn't my Pietro, I did love him and there was some absolute banger fic for the Dadneto trope, which was where my heart was at. Come Together by blarfkey is absolutely the first place to start!

Hopefully this is what you were looking for, but if you have further refinements on what you're interested in, let me know and I'll try to give some pointers! I've been out of reading Marvel for awhile, but I have a huge backlog from when I was in it, at least. 😂

[wanderingsoul6261]

Heavenly Skies- Part 2

credit for gif goes to fabiolajyx

James Beaufort x Reader

NOTICE FOR NEXT FIC. IT WILL BE 18+ FOR SEXUAL ACTIVITIES AND DESCRIPTIONS.

Synopsis: Part two of heavenly skies - Ruby and James get into one of their arguments during class, in which she tells him that no one would ever love him truly.

warnings: None? I think?

This one is shorter than other fics. I just didn't know what else to add, and everything else I thought about didn't feel right.

James had finally returned back to Maxton Hall, and upon his arrival, many could tell that he had changed. No one knew exactly what had happened, but after a bench and a plaque was erected in Y/N’s name, many started to talk, and eventually it had become an unspoken rule within the walls of Maxton Hall. 

Don’t speak about Y/N. Specifically, don’t talk about her to or around James Beaufort. Additionally, it also became known that the bench that was dedicated to her, also belonged to him. No one else sat in it, and if they did, they received a heavy barrage from a certain Beaufort. 

However, there was one person who didn’t care what she said, in order to hit all of the right buttons. 

“How can you be so empty minded?” Ruby called out James in class, specifically the one that would help prepare them for Oxford and the expectations of the university. “Or is it the money talking?Did it go too far into your head that you lost all sense?” She had turned around in her seat. She glared at him, and Lin was doing everything in her power to try and calm her down. 

“Money has nothing to do with my intelligence.” 

“No, but you let it speak for you.” James puffed out his cheeks. 

“It’s never about the money. From a business standpoint, money isn’t the only thing taken into account. There is more to it. Stats, logistics, the commercial avenue of the marketing industries and their customers-” 

“Never about the money?” Ruby asked. She scoffed. The professor had tried to calm the two down, but when the two started to raise their voices, her own voice was drowned out. Her attempts were pointless. “It’s always about the money for you, regardless if it’s from a business standpoint or not. That’s how every single silver spoon child is. Money is their source of greed and they feed into it at every moment of every day. Your businesses only supply the rich and anyone else who tries gets ridiculed!” 

His voice grew quiet. 

“It’s not that way for all of them.” His mind wandered to Y/N. Images of her in his mind filled the empty spots. A thriving flower in the middle of a bunch of suffocating dandelions. She was the only positive thing about Maxton Hall. The only positive thing about his life. She was a vine, weaving herself amongst his body, taking root with the intentions to stay there for eternity. 

“What?” 

“It’s not that way for all of them.” He raised his voice slightly more. 

“So now we are defending the money hungry people of society? The people that allow those of a lower class like me to suffer and be overwhelmed by the knowledge that they will never be as good as people like you? That’s such a relief.” 

“You don’t know what you’re going on about.” 

“I do.” 

“No. You don't know anything.” He argued. Images of Y/N filled his mind again and he swallowed thickly, his eyes burning into Ruby Bell. 

“I know you, and I think that’s enough, considering that you are the worst of those who go to Maxton.” Ruby bit back. 

“You don’t know me.” 

“I know that you look at every single lower class person the same way, including me. We will never amount to you and what you can achieve in the same way. You had everything handed to you on a silver platter and had eaten with silver utensils. You barely have to work for what you have now while me and everyone else like me have to work our asses off to get to where you are now. And even then, that will never be enough.” Ruby seethed as the two of them glared at each other. “And that is why no one will ever love you. Noone of their right mind will ever want to devote their time to you because they actually love you. They only want your money and that’s all they will ever want.” 

James grew quiet and every single student had their eyes on him. He shook with anger, glaring at Ruby Bell, but couldn’t think of anything to say. The only person who looked at him with sympathy was Lydia, in which his eyes had glanced at her quickly, staking in her saddened look. 

“James.” 

“Yea, sweetheart?” 

His eyes filled with tears as he looked around the room. What was he doing? Y/N’s face showed up in his mind again, imagining her laughter and voice. 

“I love you.” 

James turned his gaze back to Ruby Bell, who was opening her mouth as she continued to talk, but as he watched her lips move, no words could be heard. Even if he willed himself to listen to what she was saying, his mind was preoccupied. He was drowning in everything about Y/N. 

“Promise?” 

He clenched his fists together on the desk. His jaw clenched and he blinked away the tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. 

“Promise.” 

James abruptly stood up, grabbing his bag and coat, then stomped out of the room. 

—

Her parents weren't surprised when they got home and seen James in Y/N's study. He was curled up on the couch in there, the fireplace crackling in the background. James was wrapped in Y/N's favorite blanket, sherpa lined and extra soft, a maroon hoodie in his hands. Y/N's Maxton Hall hoodie.

James snored softly, twitching every now and then in his sleep. They noticed the tear tracks, knowing that too long ago, he had been crying. That he had even likely cried himself to sleep.

A bottle of Y/N's favorite wine had evidence of being open, with a half empty glass on the coffee table next to it.

They smiled softly, happy to know that James felt safe and comfortable enough to allow himself to be this vulnerable. They gave him a safe place to grieve and had welcomed him to come over whenever he wanted to.

When they finally turned to their left, where Y/N's paints had been pulled out, and a partially covered canvas filled the easel, they paused.

On the canvas was a loosely planned painting, the main colors being blocked out for just the moment. However, they knew already who it was going to be. Maybe it was the hair that gave it away, her clothing type, or even the position in which she was being painted, but they knew that the person depicted in the painting was Y/N.

And if that didn't work to show who he was painting, then his open sketchbook, littered with memory drawings of Y/N surely would have given it away. Even in death, she was still everything to him.

When her parents finally left the room, allowing James to have his peace and quiet, he opened his eyes. Tears pricked his eyes as he turned his head to look at the painting.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

-----

@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl

[winniethewife]

But he fell in love with the fever

(Sodo X F!Reader)

Prompt: Temperature play

Words: 1495

Warnings: Smut under the cut, Funky Ghoul anatomy, oral sex (Fem!receiving), spit kink, PinV sex, degradation, Praise, Good Girl, unprotected sex

A/N: For my Event Nine weeks in hell, and Kinktober, Thank you @midgardian-witch for beta reading

Months of heated glances across the room and passing comments between them had led to tension between them that you could cut like butter. So by the time they finally actually got together the entire ministry was thankful. It was a Friday evening, the sun was setting on another productive day and as she left the offices she was face to face with her paramour.

“Sodo, hope you weren’t waiting too long for me.” She grins at him as his cat-like eyes light up at the sight of her.

“I’d wait forever and a day to see you.” He purred, taking his hand in hers, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as he looked at her reverently. When she smiled warmly and used his grip to pull him into her embrace he felt the constant warmth in his chest flicker like a candle. Her fingers trace the line of his jaw as she leans in closer.

“I’d never make you wait that long for me darling.” She muttered softly. Sodo smiles and presses his forehead to hers, taking in her scent, letting all of her fill his senses. He needed to take her to bed, and he needed to do it now.

~

Sodo left a series of hot open mouth kisses over her body as he continued downward, dragging his hand along her skin, the hot oil dripping from his fingertips, warmed by his elemental heat, burning her skin in the most thrilling way. She shivered under his touch, his tongue leaving a trail of heat down her stomach, the heat of his breath on her cunt making her clench down on absolutely nothing. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the oil drip down her sides.

“Fuck…Sodo…Please, Need to…need you.” She pleads with him. Sodo lets the last of the massage oil drip from his hand before pressing down on her stomach, his long fingers splayed out along her pelvis as he licks a stripe of heat along her folds. She whimpers as he growls into her core. His fangs just slightly nick her skin as he fully indulges in her cunt. His tongue buried deep in her folds as his nose rubs against her clit drawing the moans he so desperately wishes to hear from her mouth as he slides his tongue inside her. If he had his wish he would simply drown here, it would be the perfect place to perish, his last moments spent between her thighs, enveloped entirely in her. He wants to live and breathe her for the rest of eternity. He would die happily with her taste on his teeth, her scent filling his mind with delicious ecstasy. The feeling of her fingers weaving through his hair, pulling him away brings him back to reality, he raises his head from the depths of her and looks at her with curiosity. She beckons him back up to her and he obediently follows her call.

“Too much baby?” He asked playfully as he carefully drags his nails along her lower stomach, his touch is like an inferno, heating the mix of sweat and massage oil on her as she chuckles softly.

“Your mouth is really, really hot. Cunt needs to breathe a little Hun.” She explains breathlessly.  Sodo grinned as she said this, he loved how much of an effect he had on her. He props himself up on his arms hovering over her, his eyes seeking any sign of hesitation in her expression before resting his hips on hers, his hard on pressing on her abdomen as he strategically leans his body on hers, relishing the feeling of his heat against her. She lets out a soft groan as his lips make contact with the soft skin of her neck, his tongue pressed against her pulse point, it burns. Her hands reacted to the sting by reaching to grab his head, fingers wrapped around his horn tugging gently. Sodo moans softly into her skin and thrusts his hips into hers, his cock rubs against her, drawing another pleased sound from his lips. He sighs deeply and looks up at her, pupils blown with desire.

“Please…I don’t want to wait, I wanna feel you inside me.” She said caressing his sharp jaw, his chin in her hand as her half-lidded eyes met his. He didn’t need to be asked twice, pushing himself back onto his knees to line himself up with her, moving the tip of his cock between her wet folds, gathering her slick on him, but he wasn’t satisfied with it. Holding his palm up to her mouth, pressing the side of his hand to her chin just hard enough to part her lips.

“Spit like the good little whore I know you are.” He growls. She follows his command without question, gathering spit in her mouth and pushing it out from between her lips into his hand.. “Good girl” he croons as he drags his wet hand over his length, until he’s finally satisfied with the sensation, lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder as he pressed himself into her. Both of them let out groans of pleasure as he fills her to the hilt. Her hands grip the sheets as she feels the stretch of her cunt taking in all of him. He stills inside of her, giving her a moment to get used to the feeling of him, and only when she nods does he begin to move. “Mmm, Look at you, taking all of me like that, hell’s you’re perfect.”

“Ngh…Sodo…I…Fuck you feel so good. Too good.” She pants, her hands reaching up to hold his face. She wanted to look at him as he sinks into her again and again in rapid succession, see the look on his face when she clenches around him, she wants to observe every change in his expression, she hopes to document each moment in her mind's eye, keep every part of him in this moment close to her heart.

“Fuck, you know you’re mine baby? You know this cunt only belongs to one ghoul, and nobody else?” His voice drips with possessiveness as his hips cant into hers, moving with intention. He looks down on her as he clutches at her ankle, his arm wrapped around her leg, leaving red streaks from his nails. “You’re mine…say it...Tell me who you belong to darling…”

“You…You Sodo…fu-You…I’m yours. No one else can fuck me like you do. No one else gets to even try.” She whines, trying her best to form sentences as he hits just the right spot inside her, scrambling her brain. Of course her words only encourage him, lifting her other leg over his shoulder as he doubles down, growling as he starts to fuck into her faster, harder, pressing her into the bed. She feels the pleasure pooling in her stomach as the feeling of her impending climax starts to take over her every cell. Her breath hitches in her chest as she manages to utter his name out before the waves of pleasure wash up on her shore. With the feeling of her bearing down on him, Sodo feels his own release mounting, his rhythm stutters slightly as she feels the boiling heat inside of him. The pressure of it all was almost overwhelming, like if he didn’t figure out how to move past it he would erupt. An animalistic groan emits from the back of his throat as he manages at the last second to pull out his cock from inside her and his seed spills across her stomach, a final moment of overwhelming heat, leaving the slightest red marks on her skin where it gathers.

“Damn, you’re so fucking pretty baby, with my cum all over you…” Sodo says with a growl of appreciation. He moves to grab one of the damp cloths to reluctantly wipe her down, his eyes lingering on the marks that he had left. Once she was cleaned up Sodo curls up beside her holding her close, his arms going under her shoulders to hold the back of her head and the base of her neck in his hands as he presses feather light kisses all over her face. “You’re perfect.” he mumbles.

“If I’m perfect, you must be…ugh I can’t think of words, you fucked them all out of me.” She laughed as she tried to think straight. He joined in her laughter.

“Well good, that means you can’t argue with me about how amazing you are for once.” He teased. She scoffed.

“Whatever, you fuckin’…Human shaped furnace.” She playfully mocked him in a sleepy manner. He looked at her with mock offense.

“Well I never…” but before he could finish his thought she had already fallen asleep, nuzzling her face into his hand. He smiles and runs his thumb over her cheek. They could argue about semantics in the morning. For now, he held his definition of perfection in his hands. 

~

Masterlist

Taglist: : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

[soulthrifted]

About - The reader finds themself overwhelmed by their godly parent’s absence and Luke comforts them.

Pairing - Luke Castellan/Reader

Warnings - Hurt/Comfort

A/N - I’m not too happy with this one for I feel like it could be longer, but I hope you enjoy it!! I also didn’t proofread much so I apologize for any mistakes with in the writing.

-[ Made for you ]-

Sometimes being a kid of a godly being isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It can be lonely and tiring. Never knowing what your parents truly want from you. Never knowing what you were truly made made for. That’s what I’m feeling right now as I take my anger, my sadness, out on a practice dummy at the training arena. I slice it over and over as tears stream down my face. Each time I slice at the dummy another sob leaves my throat. It’s late at night, the arenas lights are off and the only thing illuminating me is the soft glow of the moon. Why doesn’t he talk to me? Slice. Why doesn’t he care? Slice. What does he want from me. Slice. Why won’t he talk to me? Slice. Does he even care? I collapse to the ground, my body finally gives out and my arm goes slack. My sword clangs to the ground and I can no longer control my cries, I’m just tired. Tired of not knowing. Tired of begging for attention from my own father. I’m so tired.

I can hear footsteps approaching me, but I don’t stop crying. As much as I want to I can’t. I can’t stop. I don’t stop when I hear my name called out. I don’t stop when the soft footsteps turn heavy, they must be running. I don’t stop when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I don’t stop when I feel the person pull me flush against them. Instead I cry into their shirt. I cry as they hold me tightly. I cry as Luke Castellan’s familiar voice whispers sweet things to me. “It’s okay, (name). I’m here now. It’s okay.” I feel him rub comforting circles on my back. The attempt to calm me down only causes me to cry harder. I try to speak, but all that leaves my throat is another sob.

Luke and I sit like this for what feels like an eternity. He holds me closely until my sobbing stops and silent tears stream down my face. I pull away from the crook of his neck and look at him sadly. I know my face is red and puffy from crying, Luke doesn’t care. He reaches up and wipes the remaining tears from my face. His touch is gentle. He’s always so gentle. “It’s okay.” He whispers again “I’m here.” He flashes me a soft smile. There’s not an ounce of pity in his eyes. He doesn’t pity me, he understands me. He knows why I’m crying. He knows why I’m so hurt. He always knows. I don’t know how he always knows. Maybe it’s the years of friendship we have between us. Maybe it’s his excellent analyzation skills. Whatever it is, I’m greatful for.

In the tapestry of my life, Like stands as the unchanging thread that weaves through every moment. He’s always here giving me unwavering support through both my good moments and my bad. Luke’s consistency is not just a fleeting assurance; it’s a timeless commitment that assures me he will always be there for me.

I rest my forehead against his and place both my hands on either side of his face. I whisper a small ‘thank you’ to him. My voice is raspy and corse from crying, but he doesn’t care.

He squeezes my side in acknowledgment of what I said. “There’s no need to thank me, I’ll always be here for you.” I close my eyes and take in the comfort that Luke provides. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks and I shake my head.

“No. Not at all.” I pull my head away from his and my hands fall onto his shoulders. He nods his head in understanding and his hand reaches up to wipe away the last tears that fell from my face.

“You’re perfect, (name). I want you to know that. Your father is an idiot for not answering you, for not seeing the woman you’ve become.” He pushes a price of my hair behind my ear and I feel as if my skin has been lit aflame. “He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t deserve you.” his hand falls from my face and captures my hand instead. He pulls it up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my knuckle. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

I shake my head again. “I don’t want to go back to my cabin.” I say as Luke helps me up from the ground.

“They you can stay with me.” He says as we begin walking towards the Hermès’ Cabin. When we walk inside I take in the familiar walls, the comforting smell and the warmth of the cabin. I spent my first two years at camp in this cabin with Luke. It took me a long time to prove myself to my father. It took a long time for him to claim me. When I was claimed and I moved into my new cabin, it didn’t feel like home. It still doesn’t. For me, home is not a place, but it is a person. Home is wherever Luke Castellan is.

I watch as he pulls back the covers of his bed and lays down in it, patting the spot next to him. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared a bed together for a night, and it likely won’t be the last. When we lived in the same cabin I used to snuggle up next to him when he had a nightmare or was just simply feeling alone. I lay in the bed beside him and his arms immediately wrap themselves around me. I snuggle close to him, enjoying the warmth his body provides.

I fall asleep finally knowing what I was made for. I was made for Luke Castellan as he was made for me.

[jrow]

May Prompts (26)

Day 25 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 27 here.

Manipulation.

He is master of manipulation.

It comes easily to him. Perhaps too easily. In recent years, he’s made a conscious effort to avoid manipulating those he loves (most of the time), but jerk clients and suspects? That’s still fair game. And a touch fun.

Getting constable moron to run was easy enough. It’s not that a chase is entirely necessary—they could have simply waited for Mycroft’s minions to arrive. That’s what John was likely planning, engaging the moron in meaningless small talk. But, they are doing this his way.

Besides, John loves a chase.

“And now you are spying on John. Worried he’ll remember?” was enough to get the moron running. And it was oh so easy to manipulate him to take off west, down the pavement. No roofs today.

The moron is fast, but not all nimble, knocking into people has he tries to weave between them. John is slower but far more deft on his feet, easily avoiding any barriers, be they human or otherwise.

As for himself, well, he’s both fast and nimble, but right now his focus is divided between ensuring John is okay and trying to manipulate the chase to their advantage.

Run. Run. Weave. Run. Weave. Jump. Force the moron towards the road, no chance to turn down an alley.

John is keeping up but his smile is evolving into a wince. This has gone on far too long.

But there it is. The library, always his saviour. He digs deep and finds a burst of speed, running up between idiot and the road, forcing him into left, through the front door.

“You guard the entrance,” he yells to John. They both know it’s a ruse to allow John to sit down and rest, but they can pretend.

“Right,” John says, hands on thighs panting for breath. “You go!”

And he’s off, manipulating the chase so they move up the stairs and into the stacks. He puts on bursts of speed when needed to push the idiot towards the small meeting rooms. The other patrons and staff keep their distance as they run. The police have surely been called but Mycroft’s team will arrive first.

Finally, they reach the back. He detours quickly to pull the fire alarm and the siren sounds loudly. The three meeting rooms empty, the people rushing to the exits.

The moron has nowhere to go, but continues past the fleeing patrons and into a meeting room. Tries to close the door.

But, he is there, pushing his way in.

“Nice try,” he says. “The police are on their way. It’s over.” He realises he still doesn’t know the constable’s name. He realises he doesn’t really care.”

“Look, I have money,” the moron starts, “if you help me get out of here. Then I’ll be gone—won’t set foot in the city again. Think about it, I have loads of cash and jewelry… would really help out that little girl.”

The mention of Rosie makes him see red. “Don’t you dare,” he spits out. “Don’t you move an inch. You are a lucky man, you know. If John had died or been badly hurt, you would not have got out of this room alive.” He forces himself to stay guarding the door, fighting the urge to rip the moron from limb to limb.

“Please,” the moron pleads, sounding genuinely terrified and looking on the verge of tears. Good.

He stands guard and says nothing, working to keep his rage in check. Mycroft’s team will be here soon and will be appropriately aggressive in their arrest. After a couple of minutes that feel like an eternity, he hears heavy steps running towards them.

“Hands in the air!” someone yells, pushing past him and entering the room.

The moron continues pleading. He turns around and makes his way back downstairs. Back to John.

Five years ago, he’d be desperate to be part of the interrogation. To understand every element of the moron’s crimes. Now, he just wants to get his family and go home.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

[ruershrimo]

f. megumi x reader | one moment longer

under the light of the moon, he looks more beautiful than anything.

spiky black hair shining like stunning silver, eyelashes weaved of the silkiest threads one’s genes could offer, green eyes shimmering, scrutinised by the moon’s glow. if there was a painting to describe the epitome of beauty he would be its subject.

the collar of that tidy black uniform you can nuzzle your face into, the hyaline scent of detergent and a freshly cleaned room, the rhythm of his breaths, faint and light, as lithe, warm hands rest on your back the same way puzzle pieces stay connected.

“i love you,” you hear. it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

you aren’t a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, so maybe you wouldn’t know enough. still, you know some people say that the world of sorcery is one devoid of hope and humanity; you know the general sentiment among them is that this has always been a sisyphean task, that it was born from the resistance of impermanent lives against an evil which would last for all eternity.

yet how can they let their worlds be entrenched in such darkness and lovelessness?

love and good are everywhere, you think, no matter how much loss there is to endure. you’ve felt so yourself.

you see it when you sip from teacups in cafes where the saucers come with biscuits on the side and your ears notice the shutter of his camera and you gaze at the mellow grin resting on his face. you hear it when he sends you whatever tune he’s been listening to for the past few days, sent with a text saying, “thought you might like this”. you taste it when he presses his lips to yours and kisses him back out of joy in a bold defiance of this world’s sorrows. love and good is everywhere in the mundanity of life and it’s minuscule, quiet moments.

“i love you,” he whispers again, voice as soft as a gentle breeze in an autumn-touched street, but with enough conviction to make the mightiest of rulers fall, you’re sure. you shut your eyes slowly as his feet move languidly in tandem with yours.

“you do?” you ask, “i love you too, megumi.”

one day the world he resides in will take him away from you. one day you’ll be left alone with no one to hold you under the moonlight while it spills into their wooden-tiled dorm room, one day you won’t have anyone to dance with you despite the chills outside.

but today is not that day. tonight is not the night you’ll be screeching and crying as you hear news of his death from a cellphone call. it’s not the night when you’ll be shaking and collapsing over his mangled corpse, if there even is one left.

you want a future together. you want for him to stay even after he leaves graduates, for years and years and years of his life. but even you know that with the life he’s living, with the kind of life where any night is one when he may die, you just wish that it can last for a while longer. if not two years, then maybe two months. if not two months, then maybe two weeks. or perhaps…

…just one moment longer. one moment longer with fushiguro megumi.

I don’t even write for jjk haha, I was just simping at 3 am (I want to sleep. I’ve to wake up before 9 tomorrow. someone pry my phone away from me.) I’m also doing this to cope because gege is cruel. someone help this is probably so bad I didn’t even do any formatting or anything bro that picture isn’t even one of the moon

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #15: Lux Solaris

Prompt: deodate (free write) || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: Spoilers for Dawntrail.

---

It was in the heart of the Meso Terminal, before the throne of the Queen Eternal, that Synnove discovered just what the fuck had been going on with her Dreadwyrm Protocol.

The Protocol was the most strictly-maintained of all her spells, the one most rigidly bound off from every array in her grimoire with pages of page-blocks to ensure its core programming didn’t leak into any of the carbuncles. It was also the spell that had seen the fewest modifications—in fact, beyond locking out Galette and then ensuring the smooth linking between it and her Phoenix Protocol, it was otherwise unaltered from what Prin had given her years ago. It was a perfectly functional spell, did exactly what it needed to rain down untold destruction, and if Synnove never had to manipulate the Dreadwyrm’s aether again in her life, it would be too soon.

(Too, there was the fact Synnove was still mad as hell that Prin hadn’t exactly divulged just what the spell it had gifted her had been. The coding had been so alien to her eyes that she hadn’t recognized it not being a mere variation on Allagan egis, and, well, she always did her initial testing with Galette—

IDENTIFY THE ENEMY YOU WISH TO ANNIHILATE.

—suffice to say it was a good thing she’d gone out to test the damned thing on Seal Rock when the island wasn’t being used for wargames. Bad enough both she and Galette had spent the next sennight coming down from the resulting panic attack.)

But that meant she was keenly aware of when the Protocol began to behave oddly. It was how she had first noticed Phoenix’s aether beginning to strengthen, back on the First, which in turn had led to her and Urianger and Alphinaud and Alisaie losing their collective minds as they build out a demi-primal array from scratch.

The past few moons hadn’t seen quite as a drastic change in the Protocol as had been on the First. No, it had been far more subtle; strange bits of…not stagnation, but frequent shifts toward umbral polarity, even a faint hint of Light at some points. Less rage had filtered through the Protocol, that millennia of hatred barely tempered by its filtering through a mere demi-primal that always accompanied an activation of the Dreadwyrm Protocol, instead more of a cool, calculating regard.

And now, here in this space made of levin and electrope, Synnove had activated the Protocol, and what had answered was not the lesser form of the Dreadwyrm.

This demi-primal was white as Light, and its draconic shape was more closely aligned with what a son of the First Brood would have looked like, and not the warped abomination he become under Ascian influence. Its head lacked eyes, however, and strange crenellations crested its head and neck. A crown of Light wheeled above that crest, and its wings—

—its wings were gods-be-damned fucking SWORDS.

It was only a heartbeat between the activation of the Protocol and Ivar becoming the control core of the demi-primal. Synnove could feel her youngest son’s bafflement in the back of her mind, and knowing he was all right was about the only way she didn’t panic in the middle of a battle.

And then, in a cool, crisp voice, echoing with multiple tones through her mind like clarion bells:

LIGHTWYRM SUBROUTINE NOW ONLINE. SUMMONER PRIME LOCATED. DESIGNATION: SYNNOVE GREYWOLFE. REFULGENT LUX GRANTED TO SUMMONER PRIME. SUNFLARE GRANTED TO SUMMONER PRIME.

“What,” Synnove said intelligently, “the fuck.”

The demi-primal stretched its right wing, and one the Queen Eternal’s attendant drones slammed into and broke into pieces. Synnove, jolted back to awareness, dodged through the chaos to return to the safety of Heron’s back and rejoin the battle properly.

“Synnove, what the fuck?!” Rere somehow made the question a part of the ballad she was weaving to bolster their attacks.

“I don’t know!”

ANNHILATION TARGET DETECTED. QUERY: SUMMONER PRIME, DOES THIS UNIT HAVE PERMISSION TO ENGAGE?

“Yes,” Synnove said, already casting a Ruin III spell. “With extreme prejudice!”

The strange not-quite-a-dragon seemed to regard the Queen Eternal. And then it opened its mouth, and R O A R E D.

PROTOCOL: EXODUS ACTIVATED.

Light filled the Interphos, the same brilliant radiance that had answered Hydaelyn’s call during Her test, deep in the aetherial sea. And then it exploded, and the Queen Eternal howled her rage.

“SYNNOVE WHAT THE FUCK.”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

--

“So, I think I know what the fuck.”

Nearly a moon after successfully saving the world—again—the mages of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn (sans Urianger, who was still off somewhere with Thancred, and he was going to be outraged he’d missed this) clustered around the table in one of the conference rooms of the Baldesion Annex. Synnove sat cross-legged on the table itself, fist propping up her cheek, Galette around her neck, and Ipomoea primly loafed in her lap. The Highlander knew she looked as she always did after a research binge: hair a disaster, clothes wrinkled from being slept in, circles beneath her eyes.

The only thing missing was chalk dust, and that was only because she’d been up to her eyeballs in unspooled carbuncles for the past damned moon.

Krile reached forward and tapped at an Allagan projection device built into the table. It lit up immediately, copies of a subset of arcanima array now floating in the air for easy view.

“Let the record show we’ve got a segment of the Dreadwyrm Protocol on display,” Synnove said tonelessly.

G’raha, acting as the meeting scribe, chuckled quietly, but did as requested.

“This bit is the manifestation coding, it’s basically the mathematical image of the Dreadwyrm that the Allagans put together. What’s on display now is what Prin gave me. And this—”

Ipomoea blinked her eyes with an audible shuttering sound. The array changed.

“—is what it looks like as the Lightwyrm Protocol.”

“Well, that’s a significant change,” Alphinaud said slowly, his eyes wide. “I can see the similarities that we can assume are for ‘dragon,’ but what commands for unaspected aether are now for Light.”

“I want the bits that make the sword wings,” Alisaie said. “That is inspired work.”

Alphinaud barely restrained a sigh, glancing heavenward instead for strength as everyone else chuckled.

“I can see where the commands are branching off to affect spells like Astral Flow,” Y’shtola murmured thoughtfully. “Still following the framework you created for demi-primals. But you can still access the Dreadwyrm Protocol?”

“Mmm,” Synnove said. “But have to do this one first. Then in sequence, it’s Dreadwyrm, back to Lightwyrm, then Phoenix, then the cycle repeats. I can’t say I’m not too mad about that, s’nice not to have my trauma shoved in my face whenever we need some extra firepower.”

“Probably has to do with balancing the Light aether, though I can’t figure out how just yet,” Krile said.

Synnove inclined her head. “That’s my theory at the moment, but I’ll need to do more testing. Regardless, that brings me to this.”

Ipomoea blinked again. A different array now floated above the table, causing everyone to frown.

“Is that a message array?” Alisaie said. “Like the Arcanists’ Guild uses for courier work on their carbuncles.”

“It is very similar,” Synnove said, and gently tapped Ipomoea’s head. The sapphire carbuncle twitched her left ear a perfect fifteen degrees, and the array display zoomed in. “You all see this bit of sigilwork and equation here?”

Murmurs of ascent.

“The one time I saw this,” Synnove said, enunciating clearly, “was in Elpis. When Venat sat down with me and the girls, and showed us the full spell frame for her traveler’s ward.”

Five pairs of eyes just stared at her. Synnove raised her eyebrows, waiting. She’d had her moment of garbled cursing three days ago when she’d found that damn signature.

“Are you telling us,” Y’shtola said slowly, “that this new Protocol was made by Hydaelyn Herself?”

“My dearest, darling friend and partner in magical crime,” Synnove drawled, “that is exactly what I’m telling you.”

Krile was covering her face with her hands. “Oh, great good gods, we’re going need to put this under the strictest lock they have in Noumenon,” she groaned.

G’raha was still frantically writing. “I’m not wholly sure I’d trust it to stay safe even there,” he said. “My vote would be to store it up at Bestway Burrows, or perhaps with the Watcher.” He glanced up at Synnove. “This is more for my own amusement than any record keeping, but what did Rereha say about this particular revelation?”

“She said, quote: ‘Oh, cool, Mom decided as a last hurrah that she could get in a last round of one upmanship on the Ascians and design a better dragon.’”

Alisaie and Krile were both giggling before Synnove had even finished talking. Alphinaud didn’t try to stifle his sight this time, while Y’shtola and G’raha exchanged rueful looks.

Synnove merely shrugged, ignoring Galette’s resulting grumble. “She’s probably not wrong.”

“Oh, the loporrits are going to adore that,” Krile said around her giggles. “Sword wings.”

“Sword wings,” Synnove said. And grinned.