#what was chances that author is going to be one of them
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cosmicmunsonwrites · 23 hours ago
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i just wanna be one of your girls
mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader
cw — mdni, sexual content, slight manipulation, kind of dark!rafe
summary — things mean!rafe would do to desperate!reader
authors note — i’m trying my hardest to get back into writing guys i swear
do not copy or post my work anywhere else.
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mean!rafe who absolutely loves the power he has over desperate!reader. how he can just snap his fingers and have you right at his fingertips willing to do anything he asked.
mean!rafe who thinks the crush you have on him is absolutely adorable and loves to rub it in your face. he gets a sick kick out of teasing you and keeping you close enough to still want him, even though you know he’s just out of your reach and you’ll never fully have him.
mean!rafe who hates seeing you talk to other guys at parties but will blatantly flirt with other girls in front of you. all just to see you whiny with glassy eyes and begging him to take you home where you’ll know he’ll fuck you just right.
mean!rafe who calls you at any moment for a quickie of some sort because he knows you’ll always pick up and speed over to anywhere he was to do whatever he wanted, no matter how far.
mean!rafe who’d always fuck you any chance he got in the dirtiest way to show you just how much power he had over you.
mean!rafe who’d go raw every single time simply because you let him. even begged him for it.
mean!rafe who didn’t kiss you at first because he didn’t want you getting anymore attached than you already were.
mean!rafe who’d take pictures of your face full of his cum and store them away in his hidden album to brag about with his friends later.
mean!rafe who marked you up every single time just to keep everyone else off of you. he loved seeing the deep purple bruises that littered your skin because of him.
mean!rafe who sometimes found himself getting soft with you when you cried about how you never felt good enough for him after seeing him with so many other girls. it made him feel a little guilty, something he was never used to.
mean!rafe who owned a key to your house and would show up whenever he pleased just to feel you wrapped around him.
mean!rafe who always ran back to you no matter what, even if he’d trick you into thinking it was the other way around.
mean!rafe who eventually started to develop feelings for you. he loved the clingy, desperate nature of you and it made his heart full whenever he’d stay the night after you cried and begged him too.
mean!rafe who was whimpering into your ear as he drilled into you from behind and accidentally let a soft “i love you” slip out. he later gaslit you into thinking you were so desperate for any form of affection so you made it up in that delusional head of yours.
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luvsferrariss · 1 day ago
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˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ who said that I hate you? - OO2
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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Where Y/n, in an attempt to escape from Charles, her rival, fails because Charles keeps getting closer, and Y/n starts to like it.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Charles Leclerc x Female Reader! Red Bull Driver
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Cute, Charles has improved from his foolishness, nothing too serious in this one, just fluff 🤍
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Notes: I didn’t really like this story, it feels like I couldn’t develop it very well, but I hope you like it! English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ part one here ! 🤍
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You couldn’t deny how Charles’ proximity brought several consequences, like: the media. Everyone was speculating so many things that happened between you two, theories totally out of reality. You tried to avoid him as much as you could or push him away, but he was always there, and that irritated you.
When you thought the wave of bad luck had ended, the universe conspired against you again.
This time it wasn’t your fault. It was finally your chance to make it to the podium, you were in second place, and because of a mistake from your team, you ended up in sixteenth place. After the race, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, and everyone knew it.
Then you hear a knock on the door but completely ignore it.
“I know you’re in there,��� Charles says, and you just ignore him again.
After a while, you hear another knock. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
“Go away, Leclerc,” you say straightforwardly.
After your response, there’s a deadly silence, then you just close your eyes and sigh. But within a few seconds, you get startled when your door opens.
Clearly, Charles hadn’t left, so he decides to check and see how you’re doing, then opens the unlocked door.
“Are you crazy, you idiot?” you say, irritated as he enters, still recovering from the shock. Charles smiles and leans against the doorframe.
“Before anything, I need to know. Are you going to break something? Because if you are, just let me know and I’ll leave,” Charles asks calmly, making your blood boil.
“I’ll break you, idiot!” you say, throwing a pillow at him, which he just catches.
“Look how bold you are,” Charles laughs, and you huff.
“Go to hell.” Your voice is quieter now. “What kind of idiot enters someone’s room uninvited?”
He ignores the provocation and gets closer, throwing himself on the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Stressing yourself out alone won’t help anything, you know?” You squint your eyes at his words.
“Since when do you care about what I do?” He doesn’t answer right away. He just watches you, like he’s analyzing every expression.
“Since when did you stop hating me?” Charles says, and in that instant, you freeze.
And Charles notices.
His gaze locks on you for a second that’s too long, and for the first time, there’s something beyond rivalry there.
You look away, feeling your heart race in a way that annoys you deeply.
“Go screw yourself,” you say, still not looking at him, and Charles laughs softly.
“You’ve said that before, Y/n.”
He stands up and walks towards the door. But before leaving, he throws one last provocation:
“Try not to think too much about me, Y/n.”
And then, he leaves, leaving you even more confused and furious than before, not knowing what to respond.
( . . . )
The tension between you two grows to an unbearable point. Everything explodes in a tense practice, where Charles makes an aggressive move, and Y/n nearly hits the wall.
When you both get out of the cars, she goes straight to him in the pit lane, pushing him in the chest.
“What’s your problem?! You could’ve slammed me into the wall!”
Charles grabs her wrists, stopping her from pushing him again.
“You’re shaking. Are you scared, Y/n?” he asks, almost choking on the words.
You pull your arms forcefully, your face burning with anger.
“I will NEVER be afraid of you!”
He leans in slightly, closing the distance between them.
“Then why is your heart beating so fast?”
You pale.
Charles smiles.
You’re so angry that you almost punch him right there. But instead, you just glare at him with hatred and walk away.
But, for the first time, that hatred doesn’t feel so simple.
( . . . )
After that fight, Charles pulls back a bit. He stops provoking her so much, but Y/n misses it. This deeply irritates her.
Until one night, before an important race, she finds him alone in the pits, sitting with his arms crossed, staring at the car.
Without thinking, you approach him.
“So, you think sometimes too. I thought you only talked nonsense.” You say, stopping beside him.
Charles smiles, but doesn’t make a joke.
“Hey, what’s up, idiot? You’re way too quiet.” Her question makes him sigh.
You frown.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be tough,” Charles murmurs.
She frowns.
“You always say that, and in the end, you go speeding like there’s no tomorrow.” You respond, rolling your eyes, stating the obvious.
He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his face.
“This time it’s weird. I’ve been feeling bad since yesterday, like I have a fever or something.” His words make you worry, but you don’t show it.
“What?”
“If they find out, they won’t let me race. So you’re the only one who knows, and if you tell anyone, you’re done.” He says jokingly, and you cross your arms, skeptical.
“So you’re gonna hide this until you pass out in the car? Great plan.”
Charles gives a slight smile.
“I thought you’d like the idea. If I pass out, you can finally get first place.” You roll your eyes, but inside, you feel a strange tightness in your chest. He was really sick. And still, he was there, ready to race.
You sigh. You didn’t understand why this feeling of worry, especially since, above all, you hated each other, right? Of course, you hated each other, and could never be friends.
“You’re an idiot. But a fast idiot.” Charles turns his face to Y/n, surprised by the concern.
“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Charles says sincerely, and you just roll your eyes as if you hadn’t said anything, but the truth was that you were really “kind,” and you didn’t understand why.
“Don’t get used to it,�� you say bluntly.
But when you leave, you hate admitting that something between you two has changed.
And you didn’t know what it was.
( . . . )
The heat inside the car was suffocating, and Charles felt the sweat trickling down his neck as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His body felt heavy, the fever draining his strength, but he couldn’t back down.
On the radio, the voice of the team sounded distant.
“Charles, how are the conditions?” The engineer asks, as usual.
He presses the radio button, trying to sound normal.
“Everything’s under control.”
Lie.
Nothing was under control, and Charles knew it, but he couldn’t admit it. The race seemed to last longer than expected, every corner demanding more from him than he was used to. His vision seemed blurry at times, but he was already here, and there was no way to quit.
A few laps later, Y/n had already noticed something was wrong. She saw Henrique in the rearview mirror, struggling more than usual to keep pace. He wasn’t driving with his usual aggression.
“Shit, he’s worse than he seemed yesterday,” you think to yourself, growing concern building up.
You grip the steering wheel, frustrated with yourself. Why were you worrying about him?
On lap 38, a mistake. Small, but enough.
Charles brakes too late in a corner and ends up sliding, losing position to Y/n. You pass him, but, when glancing at the car beside you, you see his hand trembling on the steering wheel.
He won’t make it through the entire race.
Y/n’s engineer’s voice comes through the radio:
“Good job, P2 now. Keep pushing the leader.” Your engineer says happily, but you weren’t on the same level of happiness.
You should be satisfied. But, for the first time, you weren’t.
When the race ends, Charles can barely get out of the car. As soon as his feet hit the ground, his legs give out. The fever, the exhaustion… everything hit him at once. He stumbles a little, trying to hide it, but before he can fall, someone catches him.
You.
You hold his arm firmly, preventing him from collapsing right there.
“I knew you were gonna do this shit,” you say, irritated.
Charles lets out a weak laugh.
“And I knew you’d catch me if I fell.” Charles says, cocky, making you roll your eyes, but you don’t let go of his arm.
The journalists notice the scene and begin to approach with cameras and microphones, sniffing out an interesting moment.
Before anyone can ask anything, Y/n steps forward, blocking Charles from their view.
“No questions right now. He needs rest.” You say firmly, but the journalists don’t leave.
Charles looks at you, surprised by the attitude. He didn’t expect this from you, not really.
You look at him.
“Come on, before I regret helping you.” You say, helping him again, making his body lean against yours.
Charles smiles lightly, liking the idea of being close to you.
“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
You sigh, impatient.
“I swear, if you say that again…” you say, impatient, but a slight blush creeping onto your face. Thankfully, you could say it was because of the race.
Charles laughs, but inside, he feels that something between you two has changed.
( . . . )
The deafening roar of the engines had faded, replaced by the cheers and applause of the crowd. You had won. Your first victory in Formula 1.
It was a dream come true, beyond just proving your ability and strength to everyone. You were radiant like never before, a genuine smile on your face.
You were on the podium, holding the trophy, champagne dripping through your fingers. Max and Lando, beside you, were smiling, but you could barely process anything. The world seemed like a blur of emotions and adrenaline. Your first victory after racing against rumors and trying to prove you were capable. And even more so, you were beside people you could trust and count on forever.
It was so rewarding.
The podium ceremony and trophy presentation, you couldn’t have been happier. Lando and Max, without excitement, sprayed champagne on you, celebrating.
When you were finally ready for interviews, you felt someone pull you by the wrist to a secluded spot.
You had seen this scene before, and your heart sank.
“Lando, please don’t tell me it’s another fake news about me,” you murmur sadly, and when you turn, you see Charles.
He says nothing. He just looks at you with an intensity that makes you forget all the confusion around you.
“You did it.” His voice is quieter than you imagined, but there’s a genuine smile on Charles’ face. You laugh, sighing.
“I did it, didn’t I? This is crazy. Doesn’t even feel real!” you say, like a child who just got a candy. You’re so happy, and it captivates your rival.
Charles hesitates for a second. You notice he wants to say something else, but at the last moment, he just smiles and pulls you into a tight, unexpected hug.
This time, you don’t resist and hug him back.
You both pull away from the hug, and the adrenaline runs through your body. Until you hear someone call your name, you quickly say a “see you later” to Charles and leave him there alone, thinking.
Charles’ heart hurt when he saw your fear that there might be more bad news about you.
It was clear Charles had been a jerk to you since he entered Formula 1, but he really didn’t understand why.
Maybe it was because pretending to hate you was easier than saying he loved you.
But he felt guilty instantly when he saw you broken, crying on Lando’s shoulder, when he saw you more vulnerable than ever.
He hated everyone who made you cry, and from that day on, he made a promise to himself: he didn’t want to be that kind of person.
The team decided to celebrate the win with a dinner. Everyone was there – the engineers, the drivers, even some members of the media. You were sitting next to Lando, listening to some nonsense joke he was telling, but you could feel a gaze on you.
When you looked up, there he was.
Charles, across the table, holding a glass, watching you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
His eyes didn’t shift, not even when you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to say something.
And then, he smiled.
Small, discreet, but the kind of smile that made something inside you tremble.
You swallow hard and look away.
Damn it.
You turn back to Lando to hide it, but soon laugh at a completely absurd joke, laughing the same way Lando did at his own joke.
Later that night, you were outside the restaurant, enjoying the fresh air. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the muffled sound of the celebration still echoed from inside.
“Running away from your own party?” You jump, startled, as soon as you hear someone behind you.
But as soon as you recognize the familiar voice, your heart skips a beat. You slowly turn around, and Charles is there, hands in his pockets, that intense look again.
“I just needed a moment.” You reply, looking away from Charles, now staring at the ground.
He nods and steps closer, stopping beside you. The silence between you two feels different now. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not easy to ignore either. When you look up again and look at Charles beside you, your heart skips.
Then, he extends his hand and, without warning, brushes a strand of hair from your face.
Your body stiffens. The touch is brief, but the skin where he touched feels like it’s burning. You see when Charles notices. You see when he finally understands.
And then, he smiles again.
“This might be a problem,” Charles says, looking at you with a smile. You just breathe deeply and nod, now looking away at the view in front of you. You can feel Charles staring at you.
( . . . )
In the next race, everything seemed normal. Or at least, it should have been.
You were talking with Lando and Max in the paddock, laughing at some silly thing Lando had just said. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, until you felt that gaze again.
Charles.
He was just a few meters away, arms crossed, listening to an engineer speak, but clearly not paying attention. His gaze was fixed on you. You did everything to hide the nervousness he caused, but your cheeks flushed slightly, and once again, your heart was faltering. You tried to focus on the conversation between the two drivers in front of you, but you failed miserably.
When your eyes met, something shifted. Your breath stopped in your throat, and time seemed to slow down. The only thing you could hear was your heart racing.
He squinted his eyes, as if irritated, leaving you confused. You raised an eyebrow and turned back to your friends. After a few minutes, you felt someone tap your shoulder.
You turned around and saw the person you really wanted to avoid.
“Y/n, can we talk?” Charles said, sounding irritated. You were confused and choked on your own saliva. Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the interruption. Lando looked at you, puzzled, then looked at Max.
“Now?” You asked, suspicious.
“Now,” Charles said firmly, and you nodded, with no real option.
You said goodbye to the others and followed him to a more secluded spot. Charles took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but in the end, he just blurted out:
“What were you doing with them?” He said bluntly, and you blinked, surprised. You opened your mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say.
“Excuse me?” You responded, still in shock.
“What were you doing with them? Max and Lando,” Charles repeated, moving a little closer to make sure he heard you right. You laughed in disbelief.
“Talking? Laughing? Ever heard of that?” You said, obviously crossing your arms.
He didn’t laugh. He remained serious.
“With Max? With Lando?” He asked again, and you tilted your head, still a little lost in all of this.
“Yes. What’s the problem?” You said innocently, and Charles thought it was cute, but then remembered why he was there.
Charles ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.
“The problem is that…” He stopped in the middle of the sentence, closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again, now with a determined glint.
“Forget it.” The driver in front of you took a step forward. Now, you were so close that you could smell him, a mix of fuel and expensive cologne. Charles turned around to leave, but you grabbed his wrist, freezing him in place.
“What’s wrong, Charles?” You whispered, your voice softer than you intended.
He hesitated for a moment. But only for a moment.
Then he murmured:
“I don’t like seeing you with them, I don’t know.” Charles shrugged. Your heart raced.
And for the first time, you saw in his eyes what you had only suspected before.
And you stood there for a while, just looking at each other. You sighed, half enjoying the confession, but it made you even more lost.
Then, without warning, Charles stepped closer, and again, you smelled him. You were only a few centimeters apart.
“C-Charles?” You called him.
“Yes?”
“What is this?” You asked, but completely lost in the proximity.
He didn’t answer. He just took a step forward, closing the distance between you. His hand found your face, hesitant at first, but firm enough for you to feel the warmth against your skin.
And then, without waiting any longer, Charles kissed you.
It wasn’t a rushed or uncertain kiss. It was something intense, charged with everything that had been hanging in the air for so long—unspoken teasing, glances that lasted a little too long, words never said but always felt.
You kissed him back without thinking. One of your hands grabbed his shirt, as if you needed something to hold on to. The other found his neck, feeling how he leaned in even more toward you.
The world around you disappeared.
It was just him. Just the two of you.
And when you finally pulled away, your faces still close, your breaths mixing, Charles smiled. That crooked, teasing smile, but now it was different—there was something more there now.
“Now tell me… are you still going to pretend this means nothing?”
You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you didn’t look away. With a small smile, he gently ran his thumb across your cheek before adding, almost like a whisper:
“Because I can’t, I can’t pretend and deny what I feel for you, Y/n.”
( . . . )
The tension between you two had only grown since that conversation, that kiss. You couldn’t deny your mood had undoubtedly improved.
Now, minutes before the race start, you were on the grid, mentally reviewing the strategy, trying to concentrate. But your mind kept drifting back to Charles.
Then, he appeared. The red suit, the determined eyes, but at the same time… different.
He approached without hesitation.
“Good luck, Y/n,” you loved the way he said your name.
You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Do I need it?” You asked, laughing, and Charles smiled.
He shrugged.
“No. But I needed an excuse.”
You furrowed your brow.
“An excuse for what?” You asked innocently again, and Charles smiled.
And then, again, without warning, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth.
Not a full kiss. Just a touch, a test.
But it was enough to take your breath away.
Before you could react, he was already pulling away, putting on his helmet, and heading to his car. He turned to you and winked.
You stood there, frozen.
Lando, who had seen everything, whistled. You looked at him, lost, your face turning as red as a tomato.
“That was interesting,” he said, crossing his arms. You hit his arm.
Lando laughed and raised an eyebrow. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what, Norris?” You said impatiently.
“That you two are… like this,” he pointed to you and then to Charles.
“Like what?”
“Like this!” Lando said, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, Y/n, you used to hate each other, and now he comes and kisses you in front of everyone, not even embarrassed.”
You couldn’t respond, just shrugged.
Because, in that moment, one thing became absolutely clear.
This was no longer a game.
( . . . )
You won.
Again.
But this time, the only thing you wanted wasn’t to lift the trophy or spray champagne.
It was to find Charles.
And he knew that.
As soon as the ceremony ended, you felt a hand on your wrist. He pulled you into a corner, away from the cameras, the journalists, any distractions.
His eyes were shining, but it wasn’t just from the race.
“How many more times are we going to pretend this isn’t happening?” Your chest tightened because you knew exactly what he meant.
You exhaled, a small smile forming on your lips.
“I think it’s already enough, right? You kissed me in front of everyone, I don’t think we need to pretend anymore.” You said, smiling like a happy little girl.
His smile grew, full of something new—certainty.
“Good.” And this time, when he leaned in, there were no doubts, hesitations, or teasing.
This time, it was real. And you knew there was no turning back, so you continued.
Charles pulled back and kissed your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with love.
“I want to hear that from you.” Charles said, holding your hand.
“Hear what?” You said, pretending not to understand, and Charles groaned, throwing his head back.
“If we’re going to be like this, I’ll say it first. Before anything, I want to apologize for being such a jerk. I thought pretending to hate you was easier than telling you how much I like you.” Charles sighed, and you felt like you were floating. Your heart leaped with joy, and the only thing you could do was hug him, so you did.
“It’s okay, Charles. This can stay in the past.” You said, still hugging him. Charles let go of you and held your waist firmly. You wrapped your arms around his neck.
“And besides, I think I like you a little too.”
“A little?” He complained, pretending to be offended.
“Yes, just a little.” You said, showing with your fingers how small the amount was. Charles laughed and gave you a quick kiss.
“You’re going to be my downfall, Y/n.” Charles said, and you kissed him.
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trippiexlove · 1 day ago
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Heart of a Woman
Author Note: Based on the song Heart of A Woman by Summer Walker. Y'all chose it! I hope you enjoy. If you want to leave a song request for a one shot please comment on this post. Check out my master list for other one shots / stories.
Warning: Smut, Angst, P in V, Oral (f! receiving), Profanity, Praise, Toxic Relationship
Pairing: Zilla Fatu x Black OC
Word Count: 3,210
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Only thing that saving you...
Is a Heart of a Woman…
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Indya leaned over the large island in the kitchen of the house she shared with her boyfriend of three years, Isayah. 
Pissed wasn't even the word. She was livid. 
Moments ago she received a random message from an unknown number. It was a message every woman dreads to get. 
A coming to you as a woman message. 
Normally she would ignore it, majority of the time it was just women trying to ruin their relationship. She knew how popular Isayah has become in the last year. His wrestling career really taking off this past year. She knew groupies came with this lifestyle. She had trusted him. But this was a constant cycle they went through. 
But this message was different. It had actual concrete proof. Pictures, screenshots and screen recordings of multiple messages and FaceTime calls.
She couldn't help but to feel the hurt and betrayal. Most of all she was more upset with herself. Knowing that this wasn't the first time, but continuously keep giving him second chances. 
She was so focused on the messages. Continuously scrolling through them, in denial, trying to find something that didn't make this true. The more she kept looking it the more she became upset. Indya was so focused on the messages until the familiar ringtone, signaling an incoming FaceTime from Isayah, came to her phone.  
When she answered the phone she could see he was outside somewhere. Seem like he was talking to someone beside before his focus turned to the phone. "What's up ma, you good?"
"I'm coo'" she was very short with him. Her attitude evident as he furrowed his brows together. She walked into the living room, propping the phone on the table before sitting on the couch. 
Isayah could sense her energy through the phone. "You sure? Yo' tone says otherwise" concern laced in his voice. 
"Who's Erica?" She didn't waste any time, crossing her arms waiting for an answer. 
Isayah scrunched up his eyebrow, a look of confusion on his face "What'chu talkin' about?"
She rolled her eyes before continuing to speak. "I won't ask again Isayah," she stated pointedly "who is Erica?"
He looked away briefly before looking down into the phone "I don't know what'chu talkin' bout Indy"
"So we're going down the route of acting like we're dumb" she nodded her head. She grabbed her phone off the table, going to the message thread. Once she pulled it up she sent all the messages and screen recordings to him. 
Isayah phone dinged from the other end. She watched his face as he read through the messages. He kissed his teeth, exiting out the thread. "Indya that's someone I used to deal with a long time ago. Haven't seen that girl in years"
"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Indya frowned. "You must take me as a dumb bitch if you think I'ma just let you sit here and lie to me when there's fucking proof!" she raised her voice. Getting more and more upset. 
"You just gon' believe her over what I'm tellin' you. I'm yo' man right?" Isayah voice rising with every word. 
"Are you my man though?" Indya lifted an eyebrow. She stared right back at him as he shot dagger through the screen. 
"Indya, stop fuckin' playin' with me. I told you I ain't seen that girl in years, the fuck you trippin' for?" Indya was token back from his words, before nodding her head.
"You know what since you wanna play dumb, I'll act fucking stupid. Go be with that bitch and stay the fuck away from me. You're single, fuck you!" Indya hung up before he could get another word in. She threw her phone down, before placing her head in her hands. She felt the tears that have been threatening to fall for a while. The constant ringing of her phone, as Isayah kept calling and texting, sounded throughout the living room. 
After a while, she wiped her eyes before grabbing her phone and blocking his number. Heading upstairs to sleep the night off. 
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[Few Days Later]
Indya was out on a girl's day with her best friends, Sabrina and Tara. They got her out the house to take her mind off the fight she had a few days ago with Isayah. Refusing to let their friend to wallow in her feelings. 
They spent the day shopping, getting their nails done, and were currently at their favorite restaurant to have lunch. 
After placing their order with their server, Sabrina looked over at Indya. "We've been avoiding this conversation all day, but I think it's time to address it" Tara nodded knowing what Sabrina was getting into. "How are you feeling Indy?"
Indya sighed, throwing her head back slightly "I think I am just more mad at myself for continuing to keep taking him back."
"You can't be upset with yourself about that," Tara grabbed Indya's hand "It is not your fault that he can't grow up and see what an amazing woman he has and to treat you accordingly"
Sabrina nodded in agreement before adding in her two cents "You have been nothing but great towards him and will literally drop everything just to make sure he's ok. We all make mistakes but it's just how we learn from it"
Indya nodded. Taking in her best friends words. "It's just so hard because I really do love him." she sniffled a bit, wiping the tear that fell. 
"We understand girl," Tara sympathize with her best friend "but sometimes love isn't worth the hurt he's causing you" 
"What do you plan on doing now?" Sabrina asked as she leaned back in her chair. 
Indya sat in silence for a moment, she knew what she had to do. The decision didn't come so lightly "I'm done and forreal this time. I can't keep doing this"
"We your girls, we love you and will support you" Sabrina smiled grabbing her other hand. Tara nodding in agreement.
Indya blinked back more tears smiling at both her best friends. Truly appreciative of them. "Thanks I love y'all"
Soon the server brought over their food and the conversation shifted to something lighter. For the first time in a last few days Indya felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. Forgetting about the drama and enjoying the rest of the time with her best friends.
They paid the bill once they were done. Hopping into Sabrina's car, she started heading towards Indya's house. When the pulled up Indya sighed when she noticed Isayah's car in the driveway. 
He was back after being gone for a week due to having shows and appearances. Sabrina looked over at Indya, a certain look in her eye. "Do you need us to come in with you?"
Indya shook her head as she grabbed her keys out her purse "It's fine"
"You sure?" Tara leaned up from the front seat "We can just go in and beat his ass real quick and get your stuff"
Indya softly laughed at her friends "I promise I'll be fine. I'll text y'all"
"Ok," Sabrina said unsure "you better text us"
Indya promised she would text them as she got out, Tara taking her place in the passenger seat. She waved bye to them before walking up to the front door. She blew out a breathe before unlocking the door going inside. 
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When she walked in Isayah was standing in the middle of the living room. She turned to the door locking it. 
"Where you been?" Isayah questioned, watching her every movement. Indya ignored him, throwing her keys in the bowl by the door. Walking right by him. He furrowed his eye brow as he watched her walk towards the stairs.
With quick movements he grabbed upper arm, making her turn towards him. "You hear me talkin' to you" 
"Unless you're here to admit to what the fuck you did, we don't have shit to talk about" she tried ripping her arm away from him. This caused him to grip tighter. 
"I keep telling' yo' ass that ain't shit happen between me and that girl" His frown deepened looking her dead in the eyes. 
"She literally sent me screenshots of y'all messages!" Indya felt her temper slowly increase the longer he held her arm. She was beginning to become frustrated.
"Her ass could've faked those messages and yo' goofy ass sitting here believin' them!" He raised his voice slightly. 
Indya widen her eyes in shock. In disbelief of what he said. She pushed on his chest, finally releasing herself from his grip. "Explain the pictures and videos of y'all on FaceTime then Isayah! Do you think I'm dumb?!"
"Indya tread lightly on how you speakin' to me. This is your warnin'" He squinted his eyes her direction. This only fueled the petty side of her. No longer caring how she was making him feel. 
"I don't give a fuck, you ain't scaring shit over here. You can go be with that bitch and y'all both can be hoes together!" She turned to go up the stairs, but before she could, she was pulled back. 
Isayah wrapped a hand around the based of her throat, pulled her close which made her look up his towering frame. She slightly shuddered at the the look in his eyes. His eyes going completely dark, a mix of anger and lust lingering inside them.
"I done let'chu get fly at the mouth one too many times. Now it's time for you to listen to me" Indya was getting upset with herself for just how quick she submits to him. Knowing that this was the issue in the ever ending cycle of their relationship. 
First their good, then she catches him cheating, he uses his manipulative ways, he dicks her down and then the cycle starts over. 
He could see the wheels turning in her head. Knowing she was going to try to resist he quickly scooped her up, making his way up the stairs to their shared room. 
He plopped her on the bed, hovering over her. Placing both hands on the sides of her head. He leaned down placing kisses along her neck and behind her ear. 
Indya didn't want to fall into the same old pattern again. She took her hands, pushing against his chest. "Isayah we can-" her breathe hitched as he sucked on the spot right below her ear. 
Surely leaving a mark, he took one of his hands trialing down her sides til he reached the hem of the shorts she was wearing. His hands found their way in, brushing against her wet folds. 
Indya softly moaned, arching more into his touch. He entered one finger in her, groaning at how wet and tight she was. He leaned up to look her in the eyes, entering another finger. Indya moaning out as he quickened his movements. 
"What were you sayin' baby?" Indya couldn't make up any coherent sentences, as her core tightened. "You want me to stop?" When he didn't get a response he slowed down "Do you want me to stop?" his voice deepened. Indya eyes popped open looking at him.
She whined as she moved her hips, desperate for any type of friction. Isayah took his other hand, placing them on her hips to still her movements. "No I don't want you to stop" completely submitting to him.
Satisfied with her answer he pulled her shorts and underwear off, leaving her lower half completely bare. He removed his shirt, throwing it across the room.
He left wet kisses trailing down her chest and stomach til he was leveled with her intimate area. 
He skipped all the teasing, quickly latching on to her sensitive bundle on nerves, switching from flicking his tongue across it and slightly sucking on it. His fingers entered her once more. 
Indya loudly moaned at the double stimulation. She grabbed at the sheets on the bed, trying to ground herself. "F-fuck Isayah .. I'm cumming" 
Isayah sped up the strokes of his fingers. Hitting her spot continuously, Indya reaching her climax soon afterwards. 
Isayah sat up, cupping her chin with his hands "open up for me baby" Indya stuck out her tongue, knowing exactly what he wanted. He stuck his fingers in her mouth, letting her lick off all her juices off his fingers. Once she was done he brought her into a searing kiss, tasting her sweet essence. 
He pulled away looking her deep in her eyes. "Face down. Ass up. You better arch how I like it"  he stated in a commanding tone.
Indya wasted time doing exactly what he said. Arching her back just how he liked. Isayah let out a groan of approval, sending a smack to her backside. 
As Indya waiting in anticipation, she heard the soft sound of a zipper, as Isayah shredded the last bit of clothing, coming up right behind her. She felt Isayah glide the tip between her wet folds. 
He slowly pushed in, Indya moaning out as he stretched her out. He stilled for few moments to allow her time to adjust. "Fuck, you're so tight for me ma" 
Craving more, Indya moved her hips back. Isayah taking it as a sign, picking up his rhythm quickly. Indya screamed out as he practically fucked her into the bed. 
She brought her back against his abdomen, trying to slow him down. He quickly grabbed her wrist, pinning it against her back. "Ain't no running. You been talkin' yo' shit, talk it now" 
Indya couldn't think, her brain clouded by the immense pleasure he was giving her. 
"I-Isayah I can't!" she moaned out loud. Feeling that familiar burn in the pit of her stomach. 
"Shut the fuck up and take it. This what'chu wanted right" Indya moaned loudly, Isayah groaned as he felt her clench around his length. He knew she was getting close and stopped all movements causing Indya to whimper. "You don't get to cum til I tell you to"
Isayah grabbed her other arm, holding both in one hand. He rammed back into her, causing Indya to gasp loudly. Isayah's strokes were relentless. 
The only sounds throughout the room were their skin slapping together, "Fuck, look at'chu takin' it for daddy so well" He sent a smack to her backside, Indya moaning at the stinging sensation. 
"Baby I can't hold it," she let out a breathy moan, her climax being so close "I need to cum please" she begged desperately. 
Once again Isayah stopped his strokes abruptly, pulling out of her. He laid down, pulling her on top of him. "You want yo' nut, you gotta earn it" 
Indya straddled his waist, reaching back grabbing a whole of his length. She slowly slid down, both groaning at the contact. He took a hold of her hips, bringing her down more, engulfing all of him.  "S-shit"
Indya placed one hand on his chest as she slowly went up and down. She moaned at the new angle she was in. Isayah hitting a new spot. Indya threw her head back as she picked up the pace. 
"Who pussy is it" Isayah wrapped his hand around her throat "hmm, tell daddy who pussy this is"
Indya gasped, feeling that burn in the stomach "Fuck daddy it's yours"
She rotated her hips, earning a deep guttural groan from Isayah. "Fuck, you ain't leaving' me." He moaned out again, feeling his release brewing "Damn, you feel so good baby keep it right there." 
She smiled inwardly. Feeling a little motivated sped up her movement, the grip he had on her hips tightened. "Isayah I'm cumming" she whined out. 
Isayah felt her movements slow down, he sent another smack to her backside causing her to whimper. "Keep goin' and you better not fuckin' stop, daddy cummin' wit'chu" 
With his hands wrapped around her waist he assisted by moving her faster up and down. Indya let out a drawn out moan as she released.
Her released triggering Isayah's own, pulling her into a searing kiss as they both came down from their euphoric high. 
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Indya woke up, feeling extremely groggy and sore from the events earlier. She groaned as she turned over, seeing Isayah still sleep. She heart feeling heavy, remembering everything that happened. 
She reached for her phone seeing she had multiple missed calls and messages from Sabrina and Tara. 
Bri🔥: Indya are you good? Bri🔥: I swear if something happened I will sliced tf out of that big ass Samoan idc Tara❤️: Girl you need to call us back. Tara❤️: Bri is going crazy over here. You better call soon or we're pulling up.
Indya quickly texted them both back, telling them that she was ok and that she would explain in a little bit. She noticed it was a quarter after midnight. She quickly but quietly got up, throwing her clothes from earlier back on. 
When she looked back at Isayah, she felt rage start to build inside of her. Many thoughts were going through her mind. Then an idea clicked. She acted quickly, going into the closet and started grabbing his clothes. 
She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him up. She walked outside going over to Isayah's Mercedes, stuffing the clothes in there. She repeated this process about 3 more times. She grabbed the keys, backing the car away from the house. 
She went back inside grabbing the bags she had already packed, putting them in her car. Turning towards Isaiah's car once more, she took a lighter out of her pocket, flicking it on. 
She hovered the flame over a piece of clothing til it caught the flame. Quickly spreading to other article of clothing. 
Indya stood there for a moment, staring at the flame. Feeling it burn away all the hurt Isayah has cause her, feeling a sense of calm. She was quickly token out of her trance when she heard noise come from the house. Knowing it was Isayah coming, she quickly got in her car, starting it. 
When she started backing up she saw him run out the house with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. 
He saw his car in-flamed, his eyes widening in shock and rage "Indya what the fuck?!"
"Have fun with that bitch!" She quickly pulled off as he tried running towards the car. 
Indya couldn't help but laugh but also cry as she felt the overwhelming feeling of freedom and her shoulders feeling lighter. 
She didn't know how she did it but she found herself pulling in to Sabrina's house. Grabbing her things, she walked up the short walk way, knocking on the door. 
The wait wasn't long, as Sabrina quickly opened up the door, staring at her friend. Eyes drifting to the bags beside her. Without saying a word she grabbed a bag, leading Indya in the house and to the guest bedroom. 
She turned towards Indya, stood in the middle of the room. Silently crying. She brought her into hug as Indya began sobbing on her shoulder. 
"I am here for you. I am so proud of you, finally choosing yourself" She let her cry on her shoulder for a while til she stopped. She pulled out the hug, wiping her friend's tears. "Get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning" leaving the room. 
Indya sighed, going into one of the bags, changing into a pajama set. She crawled in the bed, engulfing herself with the pillows and blankets, sleep finding her quickly. 
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benz12313 · 2 days ago
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Delirium - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️
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{Images are not my own}
Summary: You and Ridoc have been dancing around each other for months, just on the cusp of becoming something more. All it takes is a rough week and a bit of liquor to have you become putty in his hands, and he's been dying for the chance to carry you to his bed. Too bad you guys don't quiiite make it there, at least this time... ;) [Takes place during Iron Flame]
Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, thigh riding, hinting at feelings, swearing, fem!reader, drunkenness/alcohol use
Part 2/3 - Part 3/3
Authors Note: I am absolutely living for goofy, sexy Ridoc in this fic. Is this totally a self-serving fic? Absolutely. Do I still hope you enjoy it? Also absolutely. This is my first attempt at smut so bare with me, I'm easing into it. Also I got a little carried away, and will have to break this into three parts...sssooorrry.
Word Count: 2,093
Alcohol coarsed in my veins, the music in the bar was blaring, and my friend’s bodies pressed in on me. Rhiannon and Tara danced in front of me, bumping into me occasionally, yet obviously lost in each other. Sawyer was close too, nursing a beer and dancing with his eyes closed, probably imagining Jesinia by his side. And then Ridoc… Ridoc was behind me, one hand resting seemingly innocently on my waist, setting my entire body aflame. 
Maybe it was the pressure of looming change. Maybe it was the grueling week of classes. Maybe it was the math test I’d failed. Maybe it was the sore muscles from Fayla pushing me during flight maneuvers. All I knew was that when I’d entered the bar that night, my mission was to release every ounce of tension in my body, get absolutely tanked, find someone to warm my bed, and absolutely lose myself to the night. 
And who had been so achingly close to me all night? Who’d been shooting flirty winks and sultry smiles the moment our friends would glance away? Who’s hands had been roaming my thighs under the table as I’d been forced to sit on his lap so all our friends could fit into the booth and socialize? Hands that had pulled and massaged and pinched; but never moving to where I so desperately wanted him to? Always so close to crossing that line, but never quite taking the plunge.  
Ridoc fucking Gamlyn. That’s who. 
The man I’d been dancing around for weeks, toeing dangerously between friends and bedmates. Countless study sessions where he’d huddle a little too closely while leaning over my shoulder. Mouth dangerously close to my neck as he’d stare at my notes, feigning idiocy when we both knew he was much smarter than he let on. Or on the mat, when I’d get him pinned, dagger pressed to his throat, my own aching for air but so deliciously proud of myself as his eyes would be glued to my rapidly rising and falling chest, letting out a garbled “I yield.” as I’d feel him stiffen below me. 
My personal favorite was just a few days ago, when I’d run into him after he’d just finished showering after a long training session with the rest of the squad.
His curls sticking to his forehead, still dripping, the beads of water trailing down his chest. I shamelessly watched them go down his sculpted abs, silently reminding myself to thank Dane for all the extra training sessions he’d been ordering lately, because it was obviously doing wonders for Ridoc. I’d been just about to drop to my knees and lick them off myself, and then maybe, maybe get a peak at what he was hiding under those gray sweats, when Sawyer had come around the corner, calling after Ridoc to wait up. He hadn’t even seen me, but my eyes flashed to Ridoc’s, and he’d given me a sultry smile, exactly like the ones he’d shoot his conquests before dragging them into his room. “Looks like we’ll have to wait some other time Princess.” He’d muttered just loud enough for me to hear before Sawyer saw me, and I innocently waved them off, heading to the showers like I’d originally planned. It didn’t matter how deftly my fingers worked beneath the steaming water, the orgasm that followed fell flat, my body coiled and aching for Ridoc. 
Gods, Ridoc had taken up way too many of my frustrated fantasies lately. Much more than any friend should. 
“Hey Princess, want more shots?” His voice was rough and low, breath fanning on my ear, his hand flexing on my waist, the pressure of his giant hand so deliciously grounding amongst the crowd and music. 
“Fuck yes!” I called back, turning in his arms and playfully pushing his chest back, towards where the bar awaited us. 
He grinned widely down at me, before removing his hand from my waist, using it to grab the hand that still rested on his chest, threading our fingers together as he shot me a wink. He turned without warning, making a path through the crowd, which I eagerly followed him through. In moments or minutes, I was too drunk to tell, we’d made it to the crowded bar and Ridoc pulled me closer to him, my hands now braced to his chest as he pushed forward, trapping me between him and the bar. 
“Same as before Y/L/N?” He shot the question down to me, eyes following the bartender as he took the orders from those around us. 
I reached onto my tiptoes, the corner of my mouth brushing his jaw, mostly unintentionally as I lightly swayed. “Yes please.” I said sweetly and he gulped, my eyes flashing to his adams apple as it bobbed, suddenly stopping myself from running my tongue across his entire damn throat. 
His hands tightened on my waist, jerking me closer to him, “If you don’t stop looking at me like that Y/N,” His voice a downright growl, making me instantly soaked, “We won’t make it to my room tonight.”
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Across the bar Sawyer, Violet, Rhiannon, Tara, and the first years all stared at Ridoc and you, practically eye-fucking each other as you downed another two shots. The two of you had had way too many to count already, the both of you clinging to each other, not only because you couldn’t seem to stop touching each other as the night trailed on, but because the two of you needed the other’s support to stand straight. 
“Should we…be stopping this?” Rhiannon asked the others as you giggled at something Ridoc had whispered in your ear, head flopping onto his shoulder, delight covering your face. 
“And put an end to their months of pining after each other? No way.” Violet grumbled. 
“Seriously.” Sawyer agreed, “If I have to hear about one more boner that Y/N has given Ridoc I’m going to have to chop off my own ears.” 
“Just let them get it out of their system,” Tara says, giving Rhiannon a quick peck on the lips. “Either they’ll be back to normal in the morning, or they’ll finally do something about their feelings. Either way, no need to butt in where we don’t belong.”
“I suppose,” The squad leader relented, but when she’d looked up to check on the two of you, you’d both disappeared from the bar. “How’d they move that fast?!”
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“Ridoc..” My voice was nothing more than a breathy sigh as his eyes raked over me, his arms rested on either side of my head on the cold, hard wall of the back of the tavern. He groaned, hands balling into fists as he pressed his thigh between my legs, giving me delicious pressure that had me whimpering and sliding my hands under his loose black tee. Just utterly aching for my skin to touch his. He was burning to the touch, and the moment my fingertips touched his abs he groaned, head sinking to rest on my neck and his hands gripping my waist, roughly pulling me forward to grind my clothed core on his thigh some more. 
“Y/N,” he moaned out, tongue lazily tasting my collarbone, before his breaths shakily fanned across my neck. “Fuck, Princess, why do you smell so fucking good. Makes it impossible to-” I moaned loudly as I threw my head back, the constant pressure from his thigh making pleasure coil tighter and tighter in my tummy, and he let out the most tortured fucking groan. “Fuck that, why do those pretty little moans of yours have to drive me so fucking insane?”
“R-ridoc-“ I gasped out barely able to think (let alone speak) beyond the pleasure his thigh alone was giving me. It was too much yet not enough all at once, and he hadn’t even kissed me yet. Gods was I too fucking out of it to even tell him what I wanted? What I needed from him?
“Hmm?” He hummed at me, pulling back and eyes scanning my face before he grinned, teasing and lighthearted, as one hand moved to my head, threading into my loose hair. And then he was fisting it, pulling my head back to expose my throat as his eyes scanned my whimpering form, not needing his hands anymore as I desperately chased my high on his thigh. “Gods, I wish you could see yourself Y/N, looking so desperate and needy for me. Riding my thigh like you fucking own it.” I whined as he adjusted his leg, unintentionally bouncing me on it, and a wanton moan erupting out of me at the jolt of pleasure. He grinned maniacally. 
“Ohhhh,” he was teasing now as his mouth dropped to my throat, licking from collarbone to chin, groaning before pulling back and meeting my gaze with an intensity that nearly had me cumming then and there. “Is that what you wanted Baby? You wanted me to bounce your pretty little cunt on my thigh? Let the first time you cum for me be behind a fucking tavern, fully fucking clothed? Can’t even wait till we get back to Basgaith?”
“P-p-please.” I whispered, pleaded really, and his eyebrows raised, absolute delight covering his face as he froze for a moment before starting to slowly bounce his knee. 
“Well fuck Y/N, how the hell am I supposed to deny you when you ask so prettily?” Pleasure coursed through me, as I removed my hands from where they’d been desperately holding onto his torso. I threaded them into his soft locks, pulling him forward, or trying to as he was currently devouring my neck and collarbone, biting and sucking and surely leaving marks to remind us of everything we had done in the morning. As if I could ever forget any second of this. It didn’t matter how many drinks I had had, Ridoc had brought me past being drunk. He’d sent me into absolute delirium, where all that mattered were me, him, and my fast approaching orgasm. 
“Ridocccc” I whined, the coil in my stomach threatening to burst, “I want-“ I panted and he groaned. “Fuck! Will you fucking kiss me already?!” I finally burst out and he laughed, hollow and short, nipping across my jaw playfully. 
“Sure thing beautiful,” He tilted his head, and smashed his mouth to my own as sparks danced in my vision and that coil finally snapped, white light and stars blocking my sight as I let him absolutely consume me. I was shaking, and whining, with my fingers digging into his scalp as our tongues danced skillfully with each other and I pressed my entire body as close to his as I could get. Like we’d been here a thousand times and we were just settling in, coming home after being apart for millennium. 
As I came down from my high my movements slowed, drinking in the moment, as his hand left my hair, and slid gently back down to my waist. He gently set me down back on flat ground, everything spinning now that he wasn’t holding me steady. 
Our kisses slowed too, until he was just lightly pecking me, not really wanting to leave my mouth, not now that he had finally gotten to claim it for himself. He sighed, resting his forehead on mine, dorky grin spreading across his face and eyes shining with unfiltered male pride. “Ya know, I always knew you were secretly depraved, but I never imagined you’d be this fucking needy for me. What wouldn’t you let me do to you, sweet Y/N?”
“Hmm?” I teased, lightly tapping my chin, his eyes following every movement. “How about you get me to your room, and I show you, every, single, thing, I will let you do to me?”
“Fuck, alright.” He chuckles, “Gods, you’re perfect for me you know?” The confession was raw, and I could see the sentiment in his eyes, but my drunken self wasn’t ready to confront that right now, not when my need was beginning to cloud my reasoning again and liquor burned through my veins. 
“Get me back to your room Gamlyn, before we won’t be able to make it back without enlisting help. That’d be embarrassing.” I joked and he laughed, boisterous and loud and so perfectly him that it made my heart ache. 
“Yeah it would, Sawyer would really be sick of me then.” He laughed, stepping back and grabbing my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Lets go Princess, to my room we fly!”
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rizzoreads88 · 2 days ago
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Lucien is not In love with Elain.
I see this going around a lot lately and it is not true. Lucien barely knows Elain. I am one of the biggest Lucien Stan’s you could meet but I see E/ucien Stan’s say this and I’m like where?
The first time Lucien gets to talk to Elain yes his mate instincts kick in and we find out he is physically attracted to her and he notices she’s thin and hasn’t been eating. That’s the most we get about how Lucien feels about Elain.
I think Lucien wants a chance to get to know Elain because they are mates but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her. I think this quote from Acowar backs this up as well- “My mate is engaged to a human male.” He spoke more to himself than to me. “I’m sorry if—” “I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”.
He’s not saying hey she’s my mate im in love with her I need to get to her to be with her… and like why would he? He knows nothing about Elain at this point. He didn’t ask for this mating bond either and it was just thrown on him.
Does he care for her well being? Yes he’s a good guy he cares about people. Does it make him sad she’s uncomfortable around him? Yes it does frustrate him. Does he look at her with longing once? From Cassians POV in acosf yes but again longing does not equal love. It’s a desire…looking at someone with desire.
Lucien is never actually happy around Elain. They do not bring out anything positive in each other. We do see him laughing and relaxed talking with someone else but it ain’t Elain.
Just because someone are mates does not mean they are in love. Does not mean they are a love match. The author herself wrote this. Elriels didn’t make this up it is actually canon. Even the mated pairs that do turn out to be love match it was not love at first sight. Feyre didn’t fall in love with Rhysand until much later after she got to know him. Rowan and Aelin didn’t fall in love until they actually got to know each other. (Now obviously I think e/ucien overall is alot different than feysand or rowaelin but im just using them as a example to show you just bc someone are mates doesn’t mean they are instantly in love)
So IF SJM Does have Elain and Lucien end up together obviously down the line she will have them fall in love. We have seen them together and talk alone is few times in the series now and nothing has come of it so I don’t see this happening either. Either Way Lucien is not in love with Elain now and people really keep trying to push that he is. But he isn’t.
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an-angel-so-called-satan · 2 days ago
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2025 and I still laugh when someone complains that the author made a VADTD character dirty... And by this I mean that the author gives them problematic characteristics.. For example, Eckles, a guy who was chilling in his royal palace with his family until everything changed when the Eorka empire attacked...
To this day you can still read comments saying that if Penelope had been more empathetic and paid attention to him, he wouldn't have become like this or that without Laila's intervention, everything would have been fine... LOL
He is a victim of slavery with a lot of pain and post-traumatic stress, who clearly shows a resentment towards the empire, plus is canonically described as taciturn...
HOW THE HELL DO YOU THINK HE'S GOING TO RECOVER FROM THAT? With the power of love and friendship? With an epic tale of salvation and revenge?
... Yeah, it probably works in fanfics, but NO on VADTD. That's not how Gwon Gyeoeul's characters are.
Even in the same story, after the side stories, Penelope, who had a happy ending, still worried that someone would want to attack her family or that she would disappear from that world since she was a transmigrate. That's how PTSD works.
Eckles is Eckles precisely because of his painful past that shaped him into what he is in the future: someone with trauma who became obsessed with the one person he interacted with most often... and later an adrenaline junkie and mercenary lol
Derrick is Derrick for being an obtuse man who took refuge in his title of heir and in work from a young age, since he never healed the loss of his sister.
The funniest thing is that some people think the author was unfair to them and then, on the author's blog, you can see how she speaks affectionately of Eckles or Derrick lol
And all the other characters are like that because their cursed past made them distrustful, even cruel in some cases... or even with dark desires... And yes, I speak of dark desires because some turn a blind eye to the dark lock that certain characters have on their affection score and are visible in the manhwa. Each character has a twisted quality to a greater or lesser extent, a product of the author's decision, not necessarily influenced by Penelope or Laila, but by the author's taste and whim.
I mentioned it once and I do it again, while some believe that the author is making them dirty, what she actually does is pour honey on them... In a twisted way... I know, this is probably uncomfortable for someone who doesn't know the author's previous works, but I do...
And let me tell you that one of her first works was "미친 새끼 (crazy kid/bastard)". Do you know what it's about? According to the Naver reviews, because this book can't be found anymore, it's about a teenager who falls in love with his schoolmate and innocently fantasizes about her as his girlfriend, until one day by chance he starts spying on an apartment of lovers who sometimes have intimacy... Everything is more or less normal up to this point until the reviews say that there is a plot twist in the story:
The protagonist, after interacting with the female lover, realizes that she is actually kidnapped and is suffering from s*xual abuse. He then decides to help her escape, but at the climax of the story, while trying to free her and struggling with the kidnapper, he accidentally kills the victim and the kidnapper also dies in the event... Do you want to know how it ends? Traumatized by the event, he repeats the same patterns as the kidnapper and kidnaps his classmate and locks her in a place where no one can find them... THE END.
This peculiar story is just one of many stories that Gwon Gyeoeul has written with this theme of thriller and dark romance. And not to mention her works where the victim becomes the victimizer, because in almost all of them, her characters have a gray morality.
VADTD is by far a work with one of the few conclusive and happy endings in Gyeoeul's work history. So next time, don't tell me the author is dirtying the characters in VADTD, because by far, they are innocent next to other more twisted characters she has written.
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hailturinturambar · 2 days ago
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This is loss, my dear.
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Pairing: Elrond x Galadriel
Word count: 3.183
Author's Notes: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes or confusion. It's also my first fic in years. Requests are formally open, for trop x reader, or any trop x trop character. I won't write them all, obviously, I'll still post a complete list of who I'm going to write for, but you can still send them.
Warnings: Angst, emotional distress, injuries, blood. Mention of Sauron.
Summary: On the brink of war, Elrond recalls the moments he spent with Galadriel, his best friend and most secret passion, while he must make a decision: choose the safety of all Middle-earth or protect the one he loves.
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The blood reminded Elrond of a ruby, he thought, watching the dense trail soak Galadriel's robes. The dirty blade continued to sink into her neck, her elven blood gushing like a spring from the purest river in Valinor. Elrond took a deep breath, trying to concentrate, as he galloped towards Adar's battalion.
He couldn't let Galadriel get hurt, he wasn't going to. And Adar knew it, watching him intently, almost as if foretelling Elrond's next steps. He was deeply confident, Elrond understood. Why else would he look at him with such satisfaction? Oh, he knew perfectly well what he was doing.
Exposing Galadriel before Elrond, as a spoil of war, a bargaining chip. Because Adar knew Elves like Elrond. Good, honest, selfless. Always trying to protect everyone, always determined to play the hero. But Elrond didn't feel like a hero, stopping his gallop, shouting at the troops not to go any further. How could he?
Galadriel's eyes opened and she took a deep breath, the blade no longer pressing into her neck. That was when their gazes met. Elrond looked at her for a few seconds, before keeping his attention on Adar, never letting his guard down near his enemy. Galadriel was afraid, why had he stopped? Why hadn't he left her, even after promising that he would never let Nenya get to Sauron?
“Welcome, Commander Elrond.” Adar said. He sounded so formal to Elrond, so composed. So different from the Uruk who had kidnapped Galadriel.
“You are in Elven lands.” Elrond shouted, staring at the Uruk. “And in possession of one of the most esteemed warriors in the kingdom of Lindon.”
Adar agreed, looking at Galadriel, who remained silent. So this was Elrond, the current protector of Nenya, one of the Three Elven Rings. Adar remained silent, facing Galadriel's cage. She shuddered and turned away, disgusted by Adar's betrayal. Disgusted by his trap.
“And that makes her valuable, Commander Elrond.” Adar didn't suspect, he knew that Elrond cared for Galadriel, that he wouldn't be able to move on, not while she was at risk. “Come, Commander. Let's talk like civilized allies.”
Elrond sighed, looking at Gil-galad. The High King was suspicious. He didn't want to bargain with Adar, with an Uruk, a former ally of Sauron and Morgoth, who would soon be leaving for Eregion. On the other hand, they were at a disadvantage. Only Elrond could get information out of Adar.
Gil-galad nodded to Elrond, who dismounted from his horse, following the Orc who had just pointed the blade at Galadriel's neck. He didn't set off alone, but it didn't matter in the end. The putrid stench of the camp clouded Elrond's senses. He grumbled when one of the Orcs bumped into him, pushing him to hurry. It was almost impossible to walk in the camp. Mud, armor and bodies infested the place, making the air heavy and malevolent.
Vorohil and Elrond were pushed into the largest and furthest tent in the camp. Elrond smiled with disgust, wondering if that was Adar's tent. Adar, however, was not there. Neither was Galadriel. They would leave them waiting, increasing his despair, his mistrust.
All Elrond could think about was Galadriel. If she was all right, if she was safe. Of course Adar wouldn't kill Galadriel, not if he believed he had a chance of convincing Elrond to give in. But Elrond had seen too much pain, too much death to trust Adar, no matter how much the Uruk stood to gain from Galadriel's life.
Sitting in the dark tent, listening to the battle cries of the Orcs, Elrond closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He began to cough, the air impregnated with evil affecting his elven senses, his blood pure like that of his ancestors, free from the evil of Morgoth's creation.
As a child, Elwing taught Elrond and Elros to fight their fear. When the night was dark and sinister, and the wind seemed alive, she sang to her children, stroking their hair, holding them protectively. She would say “When you're afraid, when you can't stand where you are, close your eyes.”
“Close my eyes?” murmured Elros, confused.
“Yes.” She smiled, covering Elros' eyes with her hands. “Think of a place where you were happy and forget the world around you.”
“What if I can't?” Elrond asked fearfully, squeezing his small brown tresses.
“Just think of someone important to you, and you'll be fine.”
Vorohil spoke to Elrond, but he didn't open his eyes, he didn't answer. His mind was too far away, too focused to hear the elven warrior's words. Because now, Elrond was in the past. Trapped in his memories.
Elrond was there, when Galadriel introduced Celeborn as her husband to Gil-galad. She smiled so much, so carefree and happy, stroking the arm of her husband, who smiled at her with deep affection. Gil-galad blessed them, wishing Galadriel and Celeborn all the best. And indeed he did. The High King was concerned for Galadriel's well-being, his concern for Galadriel was almost paternal.
Elrond understood Gil-galad's concern. Since her departure from Valinor, Galadriel, according to those who knew her in earlier days, had never been the same. She deeply resented her relatives and their cruelty. But, whether through the work of Eru or the Valar, she found happiness again. As she danced with the Elves of Thingol's court and was watched by Celeborn.
Celeborn won Galadriel over immediately with his kindness and intelligence. And Elrond was happy for his friend, of course he was! She deserved to be happy, to feel safe and protected, loved after losing so much. How could Elrond not be happy for her?
Yet Elrond was miserably unhappy. He smiled, courteous as ever, and greeted Celeborn, welcoming him with open arms. And the Elf returned the affection, soon becoming Elrond's friend. Elrond had to drown his words, his feelings, as he smiled and chatted nonchalantly with the couple.
In the back of his mind, in his sadness, Elrond thought he had fooled everyone. But he had never fooled Gil-galad, who looked at him confused and worried. The golden days had left even the court of Lindon and Elrond had other worries.
When war came, Galadriel despaired at Celeborn's departure. She wanted to fight by his side, to protect her husband. But Gil-galad forbade her, separating them in the war, fearful that proximity would do her more harm than good in times of war.
Elrond stayed by Galadriel's side, comforting her, promising that Celeborn would return to her. But Celeborn never returned, despite Galadriel's efforts, despite the troops sent by Gil-galad. Celeborn was lost, as was Galadriel for Elrond. She set out, determined to find Sauron, the Dark Lord, and take revenge for the murder of her brother, for the loss of Celeborn, for all her suffering.
For countless centuries, Elrond waited for Galadriel to return. Alone in the flowery, illuminated halls of Lindon, covered in the golden petals of the Great Tree of Lindon. Elrond wandered alone, alone once more.
In the silence of the night, when the castle of Lindon was at peace, Elrond thought of Galadriel. How he had stopped being lonely when she had found him and helped him.
Until now, because Lindon was too big without her, without her stormy temper and melodic laughter, like the Song of the Valar at the beginning of time. Elrond hadn't heard Galadriel's laughter for longer than was fair, even for an Elf.
In fairness, Elrond did try to move on. After all, Galadriel is his best friend, his best friend who is married and completely in love with her lost husband. It was a waste of time, Elrond knew that, but he couldn't resist, couldn't fight the feeling.
He felt so selfish, each day that passed and Celeborn didn't return, believing that it was one more day without Galadriel being taken away from him. So he felt deeply guilty, weeping against his scrolls. It became too heavy a burden to carry.
Elrond knew that when Galadriel arrived, she would have to leave for Valinor. Gil-galad was firm and didn't let worry flood Elrond's mind. Galadriel would arrive soon, after her troop had reached the kingdom of Lindon before her.
And when she returned, Elrond felt as if, for the first time in a long time, the light of Valinor was shining down on him. Despite Elrond's feelings, it had not been an easy reunion, Galadriel was resolute, unable to give up her pursuit of Sauron. Long ago, when Galadriel had met him, she had been his foundation.
And now Elrond would be hers. But Galadriel refused Valinor's blessing and left without saying goodbye to Elrond, never to return.
Elrond left with Celebrimbor for Khazad-dûm. Elrond still remembered how the light of the Great Tree of Lindon shone against Galadriel's hair, but he pushed those feelings aside, focusing on his mission, his fight to protect the fate of the Elves from eternal damnation.
It was a surprise for Elrond to find Galadriel in Eregion after so long, when he believed she was living in Valinor, and what's more, accompanied by a Man. Elrond should have known better, Galadriel never gave up fighting easily, never abandoned battle without good reason. Elrond was afraid of Halbrand, a Man with no past, no history.
But he trusted Galadriel's judgment, trusted her word. The wet parchment in Elrond's hand was proof of all his fears, of how he had been right all along, even if he hadn't known it. Galadriel had lied to him, of all people. He felt betrayed.
Perhaps Galadriel would hate him forever. But when Elrond saw her enchanted gaze at the Rings, he knew he had to protect her, protect everyone in Middle-earth. Elrond ignored his fears and set off from Eregion with the Rings. If he was lucky, Gil-galad would listen to him, but that wasn't the case.
Even with Galadriel in Lindon, swearing she didn't know about Sauron, Elrond still felt so disappointed. He trusted her and knew about Sauron's powers, he didn't blame her, he just wished she had been… honest with him.
Gil-galad asked Elrond to leave with Galadriel, and he accepted. He would never let her face Sauron alone because of a small mistake. Elrond tried, tried with all his might to drown his sorrows, but he couldn't understand why she refused to trust him. When Galadriel was taken by Adar's army, he finally understood. Her shame was so great, so cruel, that she preferred to hide it from him.
Elrond opened his eyes, hearing the tent cloth being moved. The Uruk that Adar called Glûg, pushed Galadriel handcuffed into the tent. Elrond clutched the arms of his chair, hating himself for not hiding his discomfort.
He sighed, pulling his hands away before Adar noticed his reaction. The Uruk whispered something to his Orcs and sat down, facing Elrond. The tension in the tent was palpable, possible to cut with the smallest blade.
"The Ring you carry. Show it to me." Adar said, looking intently at Elrond, Galadriel's eyes widening.
“A foolish act if I had brought it here.”
Well, Elrond almost wanted to pat himself on the back. It had been his best lie yet. But he didn't really have a choice. Galadriel had entrusted Nenya to him, he couldn't leave without the Ring.
“You are a courtier. More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword.”
“You've never seen me wield either.” Elrond sneered.
Adar didn't know the real Elrond, the one who would fight for his kingdom, for his king, for all the innocents of Middle-earth at the first sign of danger. Still, Adar held all the cards here. Galadriel spoke, trying to help Elrond, but Adar was quicker.
Elrond and Vorohil reacted quickly. They wouldn't let Adar hurt Galadriel. Elrond wouldn't allow him to hurt her. And Vorohil, a loyal soldier, also recognized Elrond's true concern.
No matter how hard Adar tried to bargain, Elrond would never trust him. Elrond knew that the same had happened to Galadriel. She wouldn't have been shackled if she had given in to Uruk.
Elrond cared little for Adar's false promises. He was more concerned with the cost that his supposed alliance could cause to all the Elves of Eregion.
Adar was right, Elrond knew more about the court than the battlefield. Elrond also knew the power of words. His clear eyes followed the Uruk's movements intently, the curved sword still pressed against Galadriel's throat. Elrond moved closer to Adar. In war, words can cause as much ruin as sword strokes. If possible, Elrond would turn Adar's sons against himself.
“Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black with the blood of your kin.”
Grunts filled the tent, the motivations of the sons of Adar being shaken. Elrond noticed when Adar's most trusted Uruk faltered.
“My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud.”
“Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely, Adar?”
Elrond noticed the fruit of his words, how calling Adar by his true name weighed on his actions, and above all, how uncomfortable his children were with Adar's ease in sending them into Sauron's hands.
“Are they?”
The sword left Galadriel's neck, while the Orcs watched Adar, waiting for an answer to Elrond's words.
“The Ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be?”
Elrond had been expecting this since the second Adar had observed him on the battlefield, when he alone had attracted the Lord Father's attention.
Elrond turned his back on Adar, glancing briefly at Galadriel to prevent the Orcs in the tent from understanding his intentions. His hand went up to his cloak, loosening the pin calmly, his movements as discreet as possible. Galadriel stared at Elrond, frightened that he would choose her instead of the Ring.
Seriously, Elrond stared at Adar, approaching the Uruk.
“Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours.”
“Very well.” Adar said, oblivious to Elrond's words. Cruelty hadn't frightened him for a long time. “I will meet you there, with her head on a pike.”
Elrond stood his ground. Adar wanted him to give up, to protect Galadriel, to be weak. But Elrond wasn't weak, and he wouldn't risk so many lives. He didn't even believe that Adar would keep Galadriel or him alive if he got what he wanted.
“If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell.”
Adar watched Elrond, pondering his words, looking for the deception behind them. But not even Adar could understand Elrond's attitude, the genuine concern. He still hadn't agreed, until his Uruk confirmed that Elrond was unarmed.
Taking advantage of the truce, Elrond moved away from Adar, hoping that the Uruk would leave Galadriel free. And he did, keeping his sword away from her as Elrond approached.
After so many centuries together, so many sorrows and joys shared, Elrond never thought he would find Galadriel in the hands of the enemy, bound by chains and shackles like a beast. He hated what Adar was doing to her. Was this the end of everything? Defeat? No, Elrond would not accept it.
Elrond walked slowly towards Galadriel, firm and brave, implacable in his gaze, until the last Uruk was gone. Galadriel looked defeated, waiting only for Adar to decide what he would do with them. She sighed, relieved for the first time, looking at Elrond.
“Forgive me.” Elrond whispered in Sindarin. Those words were for Galadriel and her alone. Not for Adar. Not for his children.
Elrond felt the tears pricking at his eyes, the weight of all Adar's words, of everything that had happened recently, falling on his shoulders. He felt so helpless at that moment.
Galadriel, it was the opposite. He was wrong, she wasn't defeated. She looked firmer than ever, stronger and more beautiful than ever.
“Win.” She said.
Elrond would do it, for her, for him, for Celebrimbor, for everyone in Eregion.
Elrond's breath wanted to leave his body, his nervousness wanting to take over after so much calm. He was bluffing, of course. He wouldn't let Galadriel be killed, no matter what she said. But would Adar really trust his bluff?
Elrond's hand reached for Galadriel's face, uncertain. She was delicate to the touch, a contrast to his fierce, warrior spirit. But she was everything at the same time. Maiden. Warrior. Princess. Prisoner. His best friend. Her secret and impossible love. Galadriel's eyes closed briefly as she waited for Elrond's next move.
If this was the last time he would see her, he wanted her to know how he felt, even if they might not survive. Elrond moved closer to Galadriel, letting their lips meet. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss Galadriel.
But for Elrond, it wasn't out of mere desire. He loved her, deeply and eternally. And he wanted her to know that he was really sorry, that he was sorry for getting angry with her, for walking away. That he understood what she had done, and that he forgave her and hoped she would forgive him.
What Elrond didn't expect, of course, was that Galadriel would respond to the kiss with the same intensity. Elrond could dwell in that kiss, drowning forever in the sensation of feeling Galadriel's lips against his, of their spirits seeking peace in each other, when they were all that was left of each other.
Elrond didn't want to go away, he didn't want to be away from Galadriel ever again. But Adar couldn't think that he loved her so much, that he would take such risks for her. But, for the Valar, she was addictive to his soul and he felt at home after a long time.
Elrond forced himself to stand back, panting, his heart racing for the battle to come. Galadriel stayed close, still as unable to move away as he was. Her free hand found Elrond's, taking the pin he offered her. His job was done, he had managed to distract Adar, but why couldn't he move away? Why couldn't she move away?
Elrond's hand caressed his face one last time. Galadriel looked at him in surprise, not understanding the overwhelming feelings that were taking hold of her. Unable to cope with all the love and affection that had been trapped in Elrond for so long. Slowly, reluctantly, Elrond's hand moved away from her.
This is loss, my dear.
He didn't look at Adar as he walked away from her, calling for Vorohil. No, he wouldn't let Adar see his feelings in his eyes. Elrond just left. Adar, too surprised, didn't stop the Elves from leaving.
Vorohil followed Elrond, questioning why Elrond felt so confident. The Dwarves would come to his aid, not even Adar could defeat two armies. Vorohil nodded and left.
Elrond took one last look at Adar's camp, wondering if Galadriel had a chance of escaping. He hoped so. He really hoped so. They would meet again and maybe things would be different.
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I hope you enjoyed it. Reblogs, comments and likes are always welcome! And please don't copy my work or post it anywhere else.
tag: @valar-did-me-wrong @redrosesandcharmingsouls @queenwholovestoread
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varian212 · 2 days ago
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I came across your comment by accident, honestly. Over time, I’ve made it a habit not to follow too closely what’s being said online about the books I love; I know I’ll find opinions that will make me write way too much.
But that was my mistake, for checking the A Little Life tag. Foolish me, hoping someone had made some fan art or an interesting post. Instead, I stumbled upon what you wrote.
The following lines are not just for you but for everyone who shares your perspective. So take a seat, and don’t hesitate to respond with the same level of engagement that I’ve put into this.
I think you’re so absurd in your post, it’s almost worrying.
A Little Life is not just a book about homosexuals, Jude is not just a homosexual, and the story is not just about sexuality. It’s a book about people’s lives, with both good and bad stuff happening. And don't come here an say that there weren't any good moments, that'll only show me how your brain is fixed on one thing (hating the book) and it's blinded by everything else.
And welcome to Earth, where Hanya doesn’t need to make gay men suffer, that already happens. I invite you in Rusia for a weekend,do you know what would happen to you if,as a man,you'll walk on the streets wearing girly clothes or makeup? And I don't mean you'll get cat called; that's literally the best case scenario.
But your post only shows how privileged you are, how protected you are from what happens in this world. Turn on the TV, read articles, watch the news – do you think Hanya invented these kinds of monsters, these kinds of traumas? I assure you, no, she just wrote about them.
And what a strange thing, to bring up sexuality so much. Especially when a good part of Jude’s traumas happened when he was a child, then a teenager.
But your first concern is not "What the hell, how can she write about this kind of stuff happening to a child?" but "What the hell, this author has a fetish for gay people." As if, for you, it’s more important that Jude is gay than that he is human .
There are so many books like this but where the main characters are women and no one says anything. Guess we are already used to know about them getting raped,assaulted, beaten. Turns out it can happen to everybody.
Your empathy for gay people seems superficial, like the kind that’s only displayed on social media; never vocal in real life.
And you know what's even worse? Your audacity.
Let me tell you a little story : By chance, I am a volunteer for an organization called Save the Children.
Last week, a little girl was brought in, and I had to take care of her. Do you know what the problem was? Two soldiers entered her family house, destroyed everything, and raped her mother in front of her and her two younger brothers.
After her mother lost consciousness, they did the same to the little girl. And they did it so violently that she lost the ability to walk for the rest of her life. A few punches to the left side of her skull resulted in damage to the motor cortex, combined with strangulation, which led to hypoxic brain injuries. That’s all it takes.
I’m not saying this to shock you—I just want you to know that this is just one child out of millions of similar cases. Real life children,real life people.
Will anyone speak up about this? Probably not. Will the military court do anything about those soldiers? In the worst case, they’ll give them a few days off, and then they’ll go right back to doing the same thing.
Again, Hanya Yanagihara (cuz yeah,if you leave a hate comment,have the decency to write her name correctly) didn't invent shit. Those evil people are literally alive and well among us.
Now imagine I go to this child, look at her, and say, "You've been abused too much. What you've been through sounds dreamlike. It sounds like trauma porn, if I’m being honest."
Please read this paragraph again.
Do you see how it sounds? Do you realize how ignorant you are about everything that’s happening? How much comfort you have in your life?
Do you care so much about a woman who wrote about gay people? Why don’t I see you being just as vocal about men who have written about lesbians, white people writing about black people, healthy people writing about those with disabilities?
Why aren’t you just as disturbed by criminals writing about being victims?
Those things happen in real life too,and yet you are more concerned about a book.
Maybe this post will be read up to this point, and maybe it will wake up some of you privileged, upper-class white people commenting on your iPhone 16 Pro Max.
We don’t choose how we are born or what education we can afford up to a certain age, but at some point, it becomes our responsibility to educate ourselves.
Do you know what I do when I hate a book, an idea, or a movie? I learn absolutely everything about it. I get my information from five different sources to make sure it's reliable. I try to reason, to find opinions that contradict mine, as well as those that agree with me. In short, I become so familiar with every detail of what I'm trying to criticize that my arguments are as valid and verifiable as possible. That's what I call effort worth noticing.
If you're gonna be a heater at least pretend to be a smart one.
i could never read a little life, cus its a reminder that just like bi men in gay porn, women are infesting the whole niche of writing about gay male main characters and overrunning actual gay male writer who would love to write about actual gay male character and they also always use those gay male characters to punch down or project their own self. A little life is literally just a het woman writing about a gay man and putting him thru everything to the point it becomes just torture porn and for some even unbelievable to the point of being dreamlike. That writer (hana yanagihari) literally only writes about gay men who were raped in their childhood and suffered their whole life after, she literally wrote the same shit 3 times!!! 3!!!!! She is obsessed with having gay men suffer.
This is always a dead giveaway to me that someone doesn’t conceptualize gay men as actual people so their writing exposes them by showing how they use gay men as archetypes or plot devices to send a message or push an idea which sends me back to the heyes code cus thats their unknown undercover bible.
Like at its core there is no empathy towards gay men.
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wardensantoineandevka · 1 year ago
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Midst is about a murder the exact same way that Disco Elysium and Pentiment are about a murder.
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daughterofhecata · 2 months ago
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einpressens · 1 year ago
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Ok ok ok ok ok ok okokokokoklbhghxn jvxhidycungzhfzudutsutxmbcuhiginlbnj *ultrasound scream*
You don't understand how your answer made me feel. Like no words can describe. For me your reply was emotionally equal to meeting Steven King and Jesus in one person at 5 am at convince store, while I wear a custom shirt with Devil smooching it from "it". I very much glad that it happened but how. What the chances. I was literally going around my room in circles throwing around random objects because I couldn't calm down myself. I still can't stop smiling, even tho my face is hurting a little.
I don't even know how to describe it properly. I'm not a writter. It's just like, understand me, I'm very small artist. Like literally all my active followers in all of my social media combined can be counted using one hand. There's two at insta. There's one on twitter. And two mutuals on Tumblr. My art don't do well, and that understandable, I'm not drawing much, don't post often and don't chase trends even if I find them interesting. Just don't have much time right now.
And then a very cropped drawing of my wip that has 2 tags, it even doesn't have "my art" tag that I use to make search for my artworks on this blog easier. I didn't expected it to do better than any other. It's even miracle that it even was posted at all.
I long ago decided to post something at least onece a week. What to post didn't mattered, just something once a week, wip, sketch on napkin. Just post something to kill perfectionist in myself. And I kinda missed a lot of weeks and forgot about it. And then I go to a planer that I didn't Opened for more than a month and it Is time to post something to my socials. And there's yet nothing to post. Lineart was barely finished. So I move to next day. And then on next day I have this. And just post it without much care. Just quickly cropped out 90% of the work post it, and just continue working as if didn't happened at all.
I did such bare minimum for it and then it kinda blows up. It has almost 1000 views on twitter alone which is kinda crazy for me. Even if most of them prob scrolled past it without paying much attentio. They have seen it. And then author themselve noticed it. Noticed the work that was two (ok one, smpard did heavy lifting here ngl) tag away from being untraceable, you prob wouldn't have see it if I just tagged it as just wip like I first planned.
It feels like I'm in some cheese success story movie right now. Just look how my day went from my perspective. I posted my wip in the middle of the night in my timezone 'cuz I have unhealthy habit of monitoring notes for one hour after posting. I wake up and there's 18 notification in my Tumblr. They all but two are from my year old drawing, which is resurfaced a little. "Neat" say I to myself and go to college, don't touch social media the whole day and just reread your fic in a little bit of spare time that I have (which wasn't a lot today). Then came back open Tumblr and I blasted by notes, it's one of my most interacted with drawings of this half of year (which mostly as most number of my notes can be without problem be converted into a binary code which reads as "0"). And better of all I got one reply where in the tags a person was as unhinged about them as me. Of course I reply back cuz I'm overjoyed and then this person is actually author of the work for which I do my fan art. Like I probably should have expected you look for sampard fan art at least a little bit. But to find my artwork. And on Tumblr nonetheless.
Also you probably don't fully understand how much your fic mean to me. It was not only my first ever sampard fic it was the fic that hooked me on this ship. Your work is the reason I currently have 5 sampard wips and another 10 ideas written down. Before this fic I wasn't interested in this ship at all. The only reason I readed it was that I started to get overwhelmed by renheng and decided to read something easy, something I'm not so invested in. And then it consumed me even more that renheng. And now I'm here. Your fic fas so good that it me obsessed sampard shipper. And tbh before reading it I didn't like the ship. I always thought that it was kinda silly because they have 0 interactions in canon, so I thought there's wasn't a lot of chemistry between them and can't be. Well you proved me wrong. How much you proved me wrong. Thanks. Genuinely. I love how you characterize them not only together but individually, how you write intimate moment's between them. I wanna praise your work for hours I love it so much. But I kinda need to sleep right now so. You so so so good. Love your work.
I'm so happy that my silly wip of fan art made you feel the same way as your fic made feel me.
P. S. Sorry for long text and prob broking English in a couple of places it's isn't my native language.
P. P. S. Can you give me the name of your mane Tumblr blog so I could tag you when I post finished art. At first I planned to send you a link to fan art on my twitter into your AO3 dm's (?I don't AO3 much. Is it even have those), and still can if you prefer it.
P. P. P. S. Glad you did like hands position and emotions. It took a lot of time to figure out how to properly position them. Also about clothes, I like drawing genshin of star rail character without their overdesigned nightmare of clothings or simplifyed versions, so your fic descriptions were kinda perfect for me. Also I did a little bit of diversion from your description. I didn't touch Sampo's clothing for the most part. But I decided to make Gep's coat muted blue as blue one of main colors in his design and The scene was supposed to be dark so I need to make him stand out.
P. P. P. S. I wanna read next chapter very strong but I hope that you will take your time. As an artistic that once got burn out so much I couldn't forse myself to do any kind of drawing it's better to take relatively short break then burn out for long period of time. I don't know you and how much you need this advise. I hope you don't need it at all. It's just kinda was on the back of my mind and I decided to write it in p.p.p.p.s.
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Colors are hRD but bois are Sotf
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mantisgodsdomain · 4 months ago
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We are just now realizing that still being on the short list of kitten fosterers means that we're going to be having to handle weaning five 3-4 week old kittens that need to be fed every few hours while also having university four to six hours a day and honestly, that's not going to be very fun. We'd say "maybe we should have taken on less art challenges this year" but honestly we've been having a great time with the art challenges it's just the 4-6 hours of school that's been rapidly eroding our soul
#we speak#one of them is still feral enough to hiss at us and we've already been overlapping Older Kitten Socialization with our other junk#god. you don't realize how much free time you have until you lose it we guess. this is why we've been unemployed for the past 4 years#...outside of the disability we mean#god. how did we survive this the first time. every time we attend any educational institution we gain so much sympathy for kids and teens#imagine having to go through this shit for eight hours a day AND no one respects your autonomy so you can't even leave#AND a bunch of places have bullshit laws that makes it a legitimate crime for you to not be trapped in a tiny box like this#for eight hours a day#man. yknow sometimes we see kids online being dumb or uneducated or whatever and think that theyre cunts#but then we remember how much of a blatant human rights violation a lot of school is and we're like. man.#sure it would help if any of them actually looked shit up but honestly children are failed by the school system to a massive extent#and it's a miracle that we made it out of our own school experience with as much willingness to learn as we did#because it's genuinely fun to acquire new skills and knowledge and the current school system is set up in such a way#that it literally creates a pathological avoidance to the things and environments that are taught in it#like man we loved math as a kid and then school crushed that out of us with a burning passion#and now we flounder with budgeting. both because of the need to use every single piece of everything and not Waste things from upbringing#and because trying to sit down and actually legitimately budget things is irreversibly associated with math from school#which has of course contributed to our current poor money habits where if we spend money on anything it has to Last#and if it can't Last then it haunts us for the next fifteen years#children should be allowed more leeway online not only because they are still learning how existing Works#but because everyone and their dog is determined to make it impossible for them to pick what they want to do with their bodies and lives#honestly we think it contributes to this current puritanism thing. need permission to do anything. need an authority#these kids arent ever given the chance to be themselves without being told what to do. no wonder they flounder without an authority figure
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benz12313 · 1 day ago
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Delirium Part 2/3 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️
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{Images are not my own}
Summary: You and Ridoc have been dancing around each other for months, just on the cusp of becoming something more. All it takes is a rough week and a bit of liquor to have you become putty in his hands, and he's been dying for the chance to carry you to his bed. [Takes place during Iron Flame]
Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, oral female receiving, p in v, smut with feelings, swearing, fem!reader, drunkenness, unprotected sex, angst? if you squint?
Part 1/3 - Part 3/3
Authors Note: This took me waaaay too long to write but goddamn was it worth it in the end. Can't wait for the final part to wrap things up and deliver a happy ending for you all. :)
Word Count: 2,847
It took us longer than it really should have to make it back to Basgiath, but two make-out sessions in particularly dark hallways, one particularly hard staircase to conquer (ironically one of the few with railings), and about fifteen minutes worth of giggling together drunkenly and we’d somehow made it to Ridoc’s room. It took him three tries to lock the door in place, but he was finally able to channel enough that we both heard the locks click in place. And then he was consuming me.
His delicious mouth on mine, pushing and pulling, but ever in control as I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers threading through his curly brown locks. Gods how did he get them this fucking soft. I whined as he slipped his tongue in my mouth, and then let out a surprised squeal when I was suddenly being hoisted into the air, his hands firmly on my ass. I wrapped my legs around him and he squeezed his hands, groaning into my mouth as he hastily turned us, pinning me deliciously between him and his door. 
“Gods,” I whined when he moved from my mouth to my jaw, nipping and biting, then smoothing over the marks with his tongue. Keeping me hovering between pleasure and pain in such a maddening way. 
“Ridoc is fine.” He said, voice husky and strained. And then he was biting down on the juncture where my neck met my collarbone, making my vision blur and my body arch. My core rubbing over his stiff cock through our clothes, Ridoc’s hands digging into my ass so hard I knew he’d leave bruises, holding me against him. 
“Fuck! Ridoc!” I yelped, glad for the standard sound shields on the rooms, because any restraint I’d ever possessed was long gone. 
He pulled back, and my heart ached. Gods, he looks so fucking handsome. Plump, kiss-swollen lips coated with saliva, lightly panting as he stared down at my neck. Eyes so dilated that his normal chocolate brown eyes were nearly fucking black, and scanning over my neck so possessively that it made my thighs tighten around him. He was flushed, whether from alcohol or exertion I wasn’t quite sure. 
“That should be good enough.” He muttered to himself, even going as far as to nod, before his eyes met mine again. I didn’t even have time to ask what that was about before he started speaking. “How do you want this to go Princess? Quick? Slow? Painful? Sweet? As long as it involves you, me, and my furniture I’m down. Ask and you shall receive.”
“I want you Ridoc.” The confession comes out a lot more raw than I mean it to, but I don’t have time to think about that, not when he’s begun to smirk again, like I’ve said exactly what he wanted to hear. A smirk that makes me way wetter than it really should. 
“You’ve got me Y/N.” He said, but then we’re turning, and in the next moment I’m on my back, his arms on either side of me exactly how they’d been behind the tavern. Except this time he was grinding into me, making my head spin as I desperately tried to calculate how big he was, because the absolute monster in his pants had to be smaller than I was thinking. It must be drunk calculations right? There’s no way he was as big as he felt. 
He tilted his head down at me, thinking, before sitting up, leaving me gasping and wanting. He chuckled, hand flying out and pressing my chest down, back into the bed when I’d started to chase after him. He clicked his tongue, “Tsk. Don’t worry now. I’m not going anywhere. Not when I’ve finally got you exactly where I’ve been wanting you, looking so fucked out and pretty in my bed. I wish you could see yourself right now Y/N.” He took his shirt off then, and I was wholly distracted. A thin layer of sweat glistened over his ripped muscles. Over the past year and a half I’d watched him go from lean and barely muscled, to the absolute powerhouse straddling me right now. The man over me could overpower, could dominate, could kill, easily,and the thought only turned me on more.
“How about I turn that pretty little head of yours to mush, yeah?” He was back down in my space, lips ghosting over my own as one of his hands laced through my hair and the other sliding under my shirt by my waist. “You’ve had such a rough week Princess, how about I use my fingers or tongue to ease your worries?”
“Oh,” I panted, “Is that tongue useful for anything other than making smart ass remarks? I wasn’t aware-EEK” I screeched, then tumbled into giggles as he bit down on the top of my cleavage before shooting a mischievous grin up at me. 
His eyes danced with emotion, and I couldn’t help but push back the curls getting in his eyes, as my chest warmed. “Let me get your clothes off and I can show you exactly what this tongue can do.” He teased, pecking me on the lips a few times before letting his tongue loll playfully, causing me to giggle. “Quit being so cute,” he muttered into my jaw, “It’s gonna make this hard when you try to run away in the morning.”
Before I could even process his words his hand had left my hair, joining his other on my waist, and pushing my shirt up slowly, kissing every inch of skin that he’d newly exposed and effectively wiping my brain. “You’re so soft. How the fuck-“ He groaned as his mouth met my ribs and my breathing faltered. His mouth feels so fucking good. He pulled my shirt up over my head, tossing it behind him. I arched to let him unclasp my bra, and that quickly joined my shirt. Then his mouth was on my chest, taking one breast in his mouth like a man starved, his other hand grabbing the free one and squeezing, rolling and pinching so expertly I could barely track the movement through the waves of pleasure. 
“Fuck! Ridoc pleassse.” I whined, begged, and writhed, all while holding him to my body, wanting him closer, as close as he could get. “I need you.” The words were broken, begging. “Stop teasing, I need you.” It was a downright plea, and his eyes met mine. Flickering over my face, assessing, and whatever he found there made him took pity on me because he sighed, resting his chin in the valley between my tits, eyes fond and warm. 
“Still want my tongue first?” He asked and I nodded, maybe too eagerly, because he let out a depraved chuckle, “Course you do. Bet you’ve been imagining my head between your thighs more than you’d like to admit.” I flushed bright red, because of course he was right, he’d starred way too many of my fantasies. His fingers hooked under the waist of my leathers, and in seconds he’d tugged them off. Expertly one might say. 
That’s all it took for me to be bare beneath him, quivering with excitement, or pleasure, or nerves? Maybe all three at this point. I bit my lip as his mouth moved down my body, sucking, nipping, licking any spot that he deemed worthy, which felt like all of me. Anticipation built, until I was ready to shove him down where I wanted him myself, sick of waiting as he took his sweet ass time. 
“Fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking wet for me,” He hissed, eyes drinking in my soaked pussy, “Thank you Loial.” He grunted before diving into my heat like it was a damn buffet. 
Then my entire world crashed around me because Ridoc, fucking, Gamlyn finally put his mouth to good work. My body was flame, ironic enough as a palpable chill had consumed the air in the room. I thanked the gods that my signet wasn’t one of fire, because Ridoc’s bed would have surely caught flame. Every flick of his tongue over my clit sent shudders through me, pleasure coiling again in my gut, but with much more intensity than it had when I’d fucked his thigh. 
All I could comprehend was him, as one hand held my waist down to keep from squirming away from him and the other sunk one of his long fingers into my dripping hole. Gods, he felt so good. I’d had plenty of good sex, at least I thought I had, but no one had ever used their tongue and a single finger so skillfully on me before. Sloppy yet precise, curling and coaxing until I was a mewling mess, eyes shut and clutching at his sheets and pillows like they could keep me from floating into absolute weightless bliss. 
He added another finger, sucked harshly on my clit and then I snapped. Not even the headboard grounded me as I flung my eyes open, only to see that delicious white light as my body arched and thighs clenched around his head. Pleasure blinding me as he continued, never even pausing as I drenched him in my release. Only letting out a moan, and adding another finger, overstimulation clouding my thoughts, but I didn’t dare stop him. Not when everything he was doing felt so good. 
“Look at you Princess. And those pretty moans. You like my tongue like this? Making you feel good?” He was babbling, so obviously pussydrunk already, making me moan and clench on his fingers as they curved deliciously hitting that spongy spot that made me see stars. He dove in again, moaning, groaning, and rubbing his hips into the mattress. Trying to seek the pleasure he was giving me. 
“Ridoc,” I whimpered and he groaned, shaking his head, and I let out another string of moans, “P-p-please Ridoc, I need you in me.”
“O-one more, Princess.” He grunted, barely meeting my gaze, “One more and then I’ll fuck you until the only word you know is my name. Just one more. Please. Just…fuck…eyes on me Y/N.” He dove in again and I did as ordered, locking eyes with him as he let loose once again. It was different this time though, his eyes soft and coaxing, as he shattered me completely, making me squirt all over his face as my climax hit me hard, vision going black. 
I came to with Ridoc gently kissing my neck, whimpers getting his attention as his eyes quickly found mine again. “You back Y/N?” He asked, thumb so gently running over my cheekbone, his other arm propping him up, keeping him from pressing his weight on me. 
“Was I gone?” I whispered, voice cracking, which surprised me. Had I screamed?
“For a minute there? Yeah.” He smiled cheekily. “Kinda an ego boost if I’m being honest.” 
“As if you need anything more to inflate your ego.” I breathed out and he laughed, making my heart swell. 
“Still want more? Or are you done for tonight?” He checked in, eyes hopeful, but I knew he wouldn’t push if I was. Gods, he could be so sweet sometimes it made my chest ache. 
“I still want you Ridoc.” It was true, I felt so heartbreakingly empty now that his fingers were gone. “I need you.”
He smiled, kissing me and then eagerly reaching down, kicking off his leathers in seconds. An expert maneuver that surely had taken time to master and had me staring in surprise. Then he was reaching down, and my eyes curiously followed his hand’s movement. My eyes widened in shock. He was fucking huge. I thought it was bluster. Jokes. Maybe a bit of cockiness. But it definitely wasn’t, and honestly? I wasn’t even sure that it could fit.
“Scared Princess?” I nodded, still frozen in shock as he pumped it once, twice, three times, and drool dripped down my chin as his cock weeped out the tip. His cock head deep red and begging for attention. “Damn Y/N,” his voice was absolutely dripping with male satisfaction, “Really working hard to inflate that ego of mine, huh?”
“Can I taste it?” The words tumbled out before I knew what I was saying and he laughed, lighthearted, but definitely still teasing. 
“Fuck baby, you’re not even listening anymore are you? Whip out my cock and all you can think about is wrapping your pretty little lips around it, huh?” My face reddened as my eyes snapped back to his. He was grinning from ear to ear, “How bout this? You let me stuff it in that tight little pussy of yours tonight, and then if you feel up to it, you can suck it whenever you’d like any other day?” 
I was nodding, not caring what I was agreeing to, just knowing that if I did, I’d get to taste him eventually. I could wait right? No matter how delicious he looked?
He pushed my thighs open, staring back down at my soaked pussy before his eyes found my own again. Soft, inviting, and way too fucking sentimental. “Ready?” He whispered, bending over me, to place a sweet kiss on my stomach. 
“Please,” I whimpered, resigned to beg more if I had to, but he had mercy on me. He ran his thick length along my entrance, thoroughly coating himself in my slick before he lined it up, and pushed in, in one hard thrust. 
“Fuck! Ridoc!” Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes at the sensation of the delicious sting. I was so full, so wonderfully whole, now that his cock was within me, taking up space within me like no other had before. The alcohol in my veins had nothing on the high that his dick was giving me, just from filling me. 
“It’s okay Princess-“ He groaned and dropped his head to my shoulder panting as his hands flew to my hips, gripping so tight I knew I’d find bruises tomorrow. “Godsdamnit, you’re squeezing me so fucking good Y/N.” He nuzzled into my neck, peppering it with kisses. “You’re so wet and warm for me-fuck-“ He groaned as I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him close as I gripped his shoulders for support. He started moving then, groans tumbling out as he started up a punishing rhythm, losing himself in the feel of me. 
I wasn’t much better though, in fact, the moment he started moving, all thoughts had ceased to exist. Everything beyond this bed faded, and suddenly all that mattered in this world was Ridoc Gamlyn.  
Ridoc. The way he smelt of sex, pine, and something else distinctly male. Ridoc, and the way his rough hands tugged and pulled at me, yet worshipped me with every touch. Ridoc, and his mouth, curses, praises, and just pussydrunk babble tumbling from his tongue that I couldn’t understand, because I was just as cockdrunk. Ridoc, and the way he held me, cradling me like I was made of fucking glass while he relentlessly pounded into me. Ridoc Gamlyn, making me fucking love him with every thrust into me. Every touch. Every whisper and groan and half-formed joke as we both chased our highs together. 
“R-ridoc.” I stuttered, unable to get anything else out through the delirium. My pleasure rose, until I was teetering on the fucking edge again. Gods, if he kept it up at this pace it wouldn’t be long-
“Cum for me, I’m right here, I got you.” He assured, hand flying down to rub quick circles on my clit. “Let it go.”
Three circles and I was screaming again. His name I think. Honestly too gone to know for sure, but I clamped down hard, as he fucked me through it and slammed his mouth to mine, swallowing my cry. His hips were stuttering, and then one orgasm crashed right into the next one as warmth filled me. He’d found his own release in mine. His hands swept up my body to cradle me, pull me into his body as he let his body collapse onto my own. 
He lazily thrusted a few more times, kisses dwindling into mere touches, before we stilled completely. Panting, sticky, and completely wrapped around each other. Ridoc. My mouth couldn’t find words, which was probably best, because everything I wanted to say felt like too much and not enough at the same time. 
He groaned and snuggled closer, before gently maneuvering us so I was laying on his chest, and we were still connected. His dick was soft but still nestled within me, and it didn’t seem like Ridoc had any plans to remove it as he wrapped his blanket around us both, taking care to make sure I was extra comfy, before he buried his face in my hair. 
Exhaustion pulled at me, and Ridoc sighed. “Just stay tonight at least, please?”
“Mhm.” It was all I could muster, before I could no longer fight my drooping eyes, and I succumbed to sleep.
@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie
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heniareth · 2 years ago
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It's interesting to note how the Tabris Origin, which involves a wedding, kidnapping and attempted sexual harassment, and fighting your way through an estate full of guards, is the Origin where gender plays a huge role in what story you experience. M!Tabris will always storm the castle coming to the rescue of his cousin and his betrothed, while F!Tabris will always have to fight her way out because the men in her life can't fully protect her (Nelaros dies, Soris literally hands her the sword, Cyrion is powerless to stop the abduction. Okay, this may be a little unfair to Soris who does fight side by side with Tabris and counsels caution the same way regardless of Tabris's gender). I'd go so far as to say that Tabris is the only Origin where the gender of your PC has a definite impact on the story.
TLDR to the rant in the tags: Tabris is constrained on all sides by being an elf, by their gender, in part by their family, and by society at large (both the Alienage and the wider city).
#bumble our guys are occupying my mind again. the origin defines their roles and experiences so#a lot has been said about the superficial equality of men and women in dragon age: they are equal from a legal point of view#both can become soldiers inherit or assume a position of political and social authority#but that's pretty much it#that experiment aside i think for the tabris story it's interesting. tabris is so contrained#don't go out of the alienage at night. don't anger the shem#don't carry weapons. don't insult them. live in squalor & misery with no hopes of social mobility. get married to a person you don't know#this happens to you because you are an elf. and this happens to you because you are playing as a man or a woman#the other origin where gendered violence might crop up is brosca and idk to what extent bc i haven't had much contact with f!brosca's story#but it would be just like beraht to make weird comments. aeducan gets a weird comment by trian too but that's it#but the alienage is a pressure cooker and the violence dealt unto its inhabitants has a perverse amount of nuance#unlike the circle which is another pressure cooker but a different one the alienage has a better life and more opportunities paraded in#*front of its inhabitants at every waking hour. the mages don't have that jarring contrast (they are reminded of how bad they have it in#*other ways but violence is much easier to normalize in closed communities. there is a reason uldred was able to stoke a rebellion after#*having been at ostagar. one taste of fresh air and that stuffy tower must've been hell awaiting. even wynne takes ger first chance to gtfo#the alienage however knows with striking clarity what it doesn't have. and that hurts. that stings. this ramble went way off track#but my main point is that tabris is constrained on all sides while at the same time having a better life dangled in front of their nose#*every single waking hour. no wonder their origin ends in massacre at their hands#the dam has broken loose. the water is finally cooking over and the pressure cooker explodes#tabris has a body count comparable to that of a seasoned criminal (brosca) and of a knight defending their invaded home (cousland)#which is freaking impressive if you ask me#dragon age#dao#dragon age origins#tabris#warden tabris#f!tabris#m!tabris#astala tabris
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tardiswithadrivethrough · 1 year ago
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i keep seeing screenrant articles and stuff (most recently) that are all "*gasp!* the toymaker has fixed continuity in doctor who by saying that actually it's all a mash up of different timelines!" and every time i'm just like yeah???? that isn't new that's literally the entire show
#el speaks#doctor who#dw 60th#google has long since figured out what I'm into#(apparently it's doctor who and archaeology and quantum mechanics in case you were wondering)#and i am occasionally a sucker for that specific kind of clickbait that's like#NEW STUDY SUGGESTS UNIVERSE MAY ACTUALLY BE TWICE AS OLD AS WE THOUGHT#where you can just take one look at the headline and go#nah#nah that's preeeeeeeetty obviously a massive exaggeration of conclusions made by a single preprint#maybe a chance that the authors would agree with the headline because they're going a little out there#but probably even they would say it's an exaggeration#the REAL exciting stem headlines are like#we found the first aperiodic monotile (it's shaped like a hat)#that's when you know you've found the good stuff#(the actual headlines about that were much less funny but I don't remember any examples because they weren't very interesting)#sometimes less interesting headlines = more interesting stories#but also sometimes i just want to read some dumb shit that's completely nonsensical but also 100% completely benign#because you know what? sometimes ya just gotta get way too into string theory and that's fine#fringe physics beliefs generally have utterly no impact on one's actual relationship to the world around them#and anyway how big can the overlap between people who care about this shit and people who believe this shit be?#wait what am i talking about now? i started out talking about doctor who#oh well#that's what the internet is for
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altruistic-meme · 2 years ago
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the absolute impracticality of wanting to give in to the very likely one-time impulse vs remembering that i am trying to allow myself to give in to my impulses whenever possible
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