#ugh i am destroyed

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

Watched The Half of It and I am both better and worse for it

[starmocha]

call me master (and i'll call you mine) [Sylus/MC ★ 666 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Lines blur between the hunter and the hunted, fantasy and reality. A/N: No, I will not explain myself.

There is a hunter in Linkon City who has set her sight on him as her prey, not knowing that she is about to fall into his trap.

Under the dark cloak of night, the city sleeps, lulled to a deep slumber by harsh raindrops. Within his bedroom, Sylus lays upon cool, soft satin, unperturbed by the distant rumbles of thunder, his own mind occupied with endless thoughts of the woman pursuing him and his organization.

How cute, he thinks, that she believes he is the prey.

“Fuck,” Sylus hisses softly, his fingers wrap around his cock, his eyes closed as he envisions this sweet little prey in his grasp. His mouth parts, letting out little gasps, as his hand strokes the hard member in a slow steady rhythm, his mind already drifting away.

Gonna dress her in the prettiest little lace just so he can rip them apart. Have her body on display beneath him, her every curve just waiting to be memorized and mapped along with his kisses and touches. He groans softly, imagining his hands traversing across her smooth skin, eliciting gentle gasps. Pepper kisses along her neck, feel the swell of her breast within his hand, a soft squeeze as she writhes beneath him, her control slipping as she begins to whine for him, her words becoming incoherent the more he taunts her.

Gonna make her his, her eyes will only see him and her body will only crave him. Spread her soft thighs, sink slowly into her wet folds. Look at me, he murmurs, grabbing her chin and forcing her to face him, Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.

Let her get used to him, the feel of him buried deep inside her. Teasingly slow, he pulls out and thrusts into her again, the languid movements enough to make her resolve begin to slip away. Memorize her expressions, watch her fall apart because of him, her resistance weakening before she breaks, finally begging him to take her completely. He laughs, her desperate pleas awakening a desire within him. His hand finds hers, fingers interlocking, as his hips rock against hers, building a faster rhythm.

What sweet begging, he croons, his hands trail down to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulls her to him to meet his thrust. Is this what you want, my sweet little hunter?

Gonna wreck her until she cries and comes undone by him. How sweet her voice will sound, spilling soft mewls and pleas for him, his name a desperate prayer on her lips as he takes her like a beast, fuck her hard and make a mess of her.

Sylus lets out a deep groan, his heart and breathing quickening as he opens his eyes, the evidence of his aimless thoughts on his hand. He sighs and leans back in bed, his head cradled by the soft pillow as his eyes wander up to the ceiling. The little hunter continues to linger in his mind, his idle fantasy of her still has him ensnared with images of her covered in him, lips bruised so prettily by him, her mouth still calling for him, aching for him.

Him.

He laughs, mirthless, the very thought stirs something within himself. To be needed in such a way, why, he could perhaps let himself be addicted to this feeling, to have a sweet little thing helpless for him.

Thunder continues to rumble outside, the rainstorm showing no sign of passing any time soon. Fatigue takes over and Sylus could feel sleep calling for him now, his body relaxing under the cool satin cover as he allows himself to drift off into a deep slumber.

The soft patters of raindrops mingle with her gasping cries, resounding within his mind. What a sweet lullaby, he thinks before he dreams of her, perfectly flushed and helplessly trapped in his embrace.

In Linkon City, there is a hunter pursuing him, but little does she know, he is waiting for her.

[lunarharp]

"Found out" set in kind of a made-up chapter where the girls are in trouble, or something.

[dansnotavampire]

how much do I have to post to become a top heracles hades 2 blog. I'll do it I'm obsessed with that man

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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[lesbiansanemi]

I am so fucking sick of living with my roommate and his fuck ass boyfriend. Also watching my roommate burn every single one of his (already rather minimal, I might add) bridges for this guy is also kind of painful but also his relationship with me is one of said bridges so I'm almost past the point of even feeling bad for him lmao

[heretherebedork]

The hurt on Army's face when Joe points out they're not dating and he doesn't have to explain anything to him when Army is trying so hard to be serious with him and to talk to him and to be openly communicative and to make this serious but Joe is, I'm starting to strongly suspect, asexual and has never had a relationship last after that and has just given up on it. But Army is trying so hard and Joe is so unsure and I just want them to talk.

[marshbarks]

regarding my last reblog genuinely i think the reason why people are able to take creek and bunny and make them very much ugu kya !! >< ships is because there is not a Big Contestant against them.

that isnt a bad thing but i think it means that people dont have to think as hard about them in a grander scale? i rarely see character analysis for those ships (bunny gets it sometimes which i appreciate seeing) because they just Are Canon (or are so fanon-loved that theyre basically canon)

style and kyman are ships that people have been Fighting over for 20+ years, because a lot of people arent multishippers, and a lot of kyman shippers were seen as bad by style shippers (and the wider fandom in general) for a very long time/some still have that viewpoint.

so the people who make fic content have this... like need to prove why their ship is worthy? which means adding extra complexity and over analyzing canon and digging into their minds a lot more. idk this might not make perfect sense but i think that the Fight for supremacy has bolstered both ships into being fucking Fascinating from a development standpoint.

and this also applies to kenny/butters/tweek/craig rarepairs. they have to be Compelling and Evidenced in order to have a footing against creek and bunny. but no one is trying to actually FIGHT creek and bunny (good! leave them alone) so those writers don't have to overthink making their stuff deep and compelling. they have the freedom to go ugu kyaaa as much as they want because its the canon/basically canon ship and people will eat it up anyways.

[feministjane]

You ever watch the most gut wrenching episode of television and feel so devastated and also so fulfilled because like the acting and cinematography was so good that now you're devastated but you're also like now I get to analyze the hurt for 49+ hours

[owlf45]

how're u feeling?? w the twin leaving AND the imaginiary that's lots of stuff

in TOTAL disrepair

[ginsoakedgirl80]

this broke me

[murobrown]

.

[coruscanti-arabi]

"The last living member of Clan Wren."

"Her family?"

"Were all lost, sadly."

[imminent-danger-came]

So, I'm reading the first PJO book right. Between

"What is my destiny?" "You shall fail to save what matters most, in the end."

"May the fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny." "Our destiny...assuming we know what that is."

I'm like. God I really was always going to love it

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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