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crystalflygeo · 10 months

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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Slave!Omega!Dragoness!Reader-

cw/tags: mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics, mating bites, fingering, scenting, pet names, zhongli has a knot and alpha fangs and is not afraid to use them lmao, some nip and clit stimulation ig?? emotional roller coaster ngl.

notes: So remember a loooong time ago when I held a poll and one of the options was "dragon" and it WON?? well actually it was this, (dragon READER heh) it just got WAY out of control. 5.6k words and now I wanna make it into a whole series //head in hands// anyway ye have this weird lil funky AU I poured my sweat blood and tears into (also my heart and soul) idk why I am just so attached I love it so much plsss I have ideas fot other scenes with them already aaaaaaaaa <3

Partially inspired by some of @silentmoths' fics holy shIT I LOVE DRAGON READER AND I LOVE OMEGAVERSE NOD IF YOU AGREE!!

Last but not least if y'all wanna be part of my pinglist uhh I'm making one now so :3c

Part 2 ->

Strange yellow leaves fall around you all over the courtyard…

“Fix your clothes, you have to look appealing… well, as appealing as a creature like you can be.” The voice of your Master calls out harshly, pulling and tugging at details in your outfit. It was a flimsy and silky thing, mostly see-through, rather elegant, but very revealing.

You’re used to it.

“And stop looking so miserable! You better smile and please this Alpha. He’s not just anyone, you know?”

You nod meekly, trying to hide the slight trembling on your body. This will be just another bonding attempt. Nothing else.

It will fail. Just like all the others before.

Silver chains clink and tug the collar at your neck, it shakes you back to the present as you stumble forward.

Master guides you through a maze of corridors, with sleek surfaces of dark wood, decorative lanterns and paper screens. They’re strange, covered in even stranger symbols that look nothing like the ones back in the desert. Your bare feet, used to rough hot sand, now walk along polished wood with your draconic tail dragging behind. Everything looks so lavish…

You’ve been brought all the way to Li- Liu-… Li-yue? A foreign country, to meet a potential client. Well, a client to your Master. You are just the merchandise: a dragonblood Omega. Rare, unique even, “exotic”.

But defective.

Your fists clench in nervousness. How rough will this Alpha be with you? You dread to find the answer. Alphas were cruel, ever since you remember you’ve been taught to please, be gentle, obedient and look pretty, but they were never any of those things. Alphas just took their pleasure and used your body as they wanted, usually until you were crying and screaming, begging for mercy. You just hope this Alpha would give you some pity and be quick… or give you time to rest in between attempts.

Though you had learned since long that your wishes don’t tend to come true.

What a disappointment. After I spent so much money and resources on you.

Such a waste of time, what use is there in an Omega that can’t bond?

Why do I even bother with you? You’re just good for the reproduction camp. Maybe that way you can produce another dragonblood.

This is your last chance, mutt. If you fail again, I won’t be bothering with you anymore.

You feel anxiety creeping on your chest, heart jumping to your throat as the dark thoughts invade your mind. Last chance… your last chance at bonding. At proving you’re not useless and stupid. At serving your purpose as Omega. What was happening to you was fair. You deserve to be punished and you should be grateful you have one last chance after all your failures.

You just want to… to…

Tears prickle at your eyes and you breathe in deeply, trying to contain your distress and hugging your own tail, rubbing your face on the fluffy tip.

Whatever happens today, your fate is going to be sealed.

The nest room is nice.

Like the rest of the place, it is rather elegant, dimly lit with neutral colors and wooden walls, filled with pillows and blankets that had a very subtle flowery aroma to them. Small cabinets to one side with some decorative objects on top and a full-length mirror on the other side. So much different from the barren cold stone walls and tents from the desert camps.

“Hm, pretty fancy.” Master says taking off your collar, your soft unblemished neck now on display, free from any claim. “Now…” He pulls at your hair and you wince, whining and lowering your ears on a submissive display. He wouldn’t hurt you right? You have to look pretty. “The emperor will be here shortly. Make sure to do anything and everything he wants. And you better smile, I told you.”

“E-Emperor?” You pale, eyes widening.

He scoffs and pushes you back, you stumble back into the mess of pillows. “That’s right. I don’t know why but he was very adamant to see you it seems. Perhaps he just wants the prestige of owning the last known dragonblood, hm? Another novelty for his collection, I’m sure. You should consider yourself really lucky. So…” He flashes his Alpha fangs at you with a growl and you whimper again, cowering. “I would suggest you do your best and don’t disappoint this time, he’ll pay a pretty penny for you.”

And with that he leaves, muttering something and almost slamming the strange sliding door.

And so, you’re alone.

Immediately your brain goes into overdrive. An emperor? You had been presented to various Alphas of high status before, wealthy merchants and high-ranking tribe members, but this… this was probably a whole other level.

An emperor had to have an empress, right? Someone of noble birth and high status such as himself, not a lowly sand lizard like you, with weird ears, scales, horns and a tail. Why would he want to see an Omega like you? Perhaps Master was right, he intended to keep you as a trophy in his collection, another pretty thing.

It was humiliating.

But anything was better than being doomed to the reproduction camp…

Maybe the emperor had a harem? You’ve heard of them before, some Alphas liked to boast having many Omegas bound to them. Living in this luxury, not having to worry about much anything except looking pretty and pleasing him once a while. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even pay attention to you, you’d be just a glorified pet.

You could… do that.

Without noticing, your tail starts swaying after you, this could be a chance. Your chance. You just had to make him like you. Forget the bond. Don’t think about it. All you have to do is please him.

You start frantically arranging the sheets and pillows around, building the comfiest nest you ever had with all the extra material, scenting it with excited happy pheromones. You could do it, this was your chance.

You won’t fail this time. You’ll be pretty, obedient, submissive, the ideal Omega. You’ll let him use you to his heart’s content, sure you may be a little sore but it’ll be worth it if he chooses you. He won’t even care about the bond.

…Right?

You jolt when you hear the door slide slightly open again, your heart leaps to your throat as someone walks in.

Oh.

Is… he the emperor? … He’s handsome.

To be fully honest, you expected some fat pompous middle-aged man not this… perfect specimen of an Alpha.

Your tail sways a little with curiosity.

He looks only slightly older than you, tall, wearing elegant robes in brown and golden hues. His eyes are like a sunset: golden, warm, almost glowing. A red liner accentuating them. Long chocolate hair faded to amber at the tips. His scent was earthy and pleasant, subtle unlike most Alpha musk. Almost comforting and… familiar?

He seems to stare back at you with the same surprise, frozen for a moment, eyes slightly wide, he says something you can’t quite hear and it shakes you out of the spell. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, curling your tail around you, ears down and resisting the urge to brush (hide) the scales at the corners of your eyes.

It occurs to you that you’ve been just staring like an idiot, you don’t know very well how to address him, nor know his foreign tongue. So, you simply lower your head in respect. “My Lord…”

You suddenly feel nervous. This is it.

You turn around, following the motions ingrained in your brain. Body splayed on the nest, arms tucked in, head down. Submissive, obedient. Your hands are shaking, you feel dizzy, heart thrumming in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

You lift your butt just slightly, tail curling elegantly over your back, out of the way to expose the flimsy fabric covering your privates, properly presenting to the Alpha. You focus on trying to control your pheromones, letting out just whiffs of a needy sensual scent, worried of mixing in your anxiety and fear and displeasing the emperor.

You had to be pretty, enticing, compliant, and he would, h-he would…

A rather awkward cough has you tense. “There is… no need for that.”

You blink for a moment, taken aback at the rich deep baritone of his voice, so hypnotizing you almost don’t register his words. He speaks common tongue, but still, what does he mean? Isn’t this just… standard protocol for bonding? Isn’t he going to mount you?

You dare peek over your shoulder and see him sitting elegantly over his knees at the floor. He’s outside of the nest range.

He’s also slightly pink at the cheeks and pointedly avoiding looking at you.

Is this a trap? Is he testing you to see if you’ll misbehave? Your hands clench, nails digging at your palms, your breathing and heart increasing pace.

“I just want to talk, I promise.” He tries.

You hold the position.

He sighs, and then-

“Omega, relax.”

You almost squeak at the Alpha command. His voice, his will, seeps into your skin, your nerves, your very bones. You feel your muscles loosen up, tension leaving your body like a bowstring snapping and you lie on the sheets sideways.

Right right right, you’re tense, you have to be soft and pliant-

You look over at him and he’s… heading over to the little cabinets. He picks up a kettle of some kind and little cups that sit on the top, moving around calmly and elegantly as he seems to prepare something. Your head tilts and you gingerly sit up straight. Tail and ears down, curled up not unlike a wounded animal.

“Do you speak the common tongue?”

“Y-Yes!” You nod. “A little…”

“Good.”

The emperor seems… pleasant, he is calm and unguarded, so different from the cold intimidating Alphas you’ve met who like to show off, who immediately order you around. He even used an Alpha command on you but it felt… grounding. There is something equally eerie and entrancing about him and you feel yourself as much drawn to him as terrified of his imposing aura, and you couldn’t explain why. It’s a bit unsettling but also comforting at the same time.

He pours two cups and turns to you. You stiffen and he offers you one.

“Qixing tea is one of the most refined Liyue teas. It tends to be very bitter but this blend has a more pleasant taste, a little floral even. It is also said to help relax one’s mind.”

You carefully take the cup, not wanting to insult such gracious offer, though you’re utterly confused, shouldn’t you be the one serving him?

The cup is warm.

You stare at the golden liquid, small black dots sit at the bottom. This has no alcohol… right? It can’t be worse than snake wine at least.

You carefully take a sip, trying to imitate how the emperor is holding his.

It is… nice, a strong sharp taste but not bad, and very aromatic.

He’s looking at you expectantly and your tail and ears twitch. “I-It’s very good. Thank you, my Lord.”

He smiles and your heart skips a beat. “I am glad. Some say Qixing tea is for older people, but it’s frankly one of my favorites.” He stares at his cup with a somewhat nostalgic gaze, as if it brings him fond memories. “Ah, you can address me as Morax.”

You nod quietly and take another sip. Past the tea’s powerful flowery scent, you can now sense his Alpha pheromones, with him being so close and the air less tense. They’re strong but not overwhelmingly so, sharp and tantalizing, a refined foreign scent you can almost taste in the back of your throat. It stirs something in you, something warm and alluring.

“Do you know where were you born? Who are your parents?”

The question takes you by surprise for a moment as you shake out of your thoughts. Ah, he must be inquiring about your dragonblood. “I-I’m…. I’m not sure, my Lo- um… L-Lord Morax. As far as I know my mother worked at a-a heat house… no one knew who my father was and she passed away when I was very young.”

“I see… so you have no idea where you got your dragon traits from.” It was a sentence rather than a question and you shake your head meekly, taking another sip from the tea, ears lowering back.

“Apparently it could be due to recessive genes.” You once again repeat the same words you’ve heard all your life. You hate bringing attention to your dragon features, people either treat you like a rare exotic creature or a dangerous one. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Hmmm…” Lord Morax seems pensive for a moment, also drinking some of the tea. “Have you been with your caretaker for long?”

You look down. “Master has been in charge of me ever since I… p-presented as an Omega.”

“Does he treat you well?”

Your eyes widen, the question catching you completely by surprise. T-Treat you well? You are… treated like any other slave omega, if only being singled out by your draconic traits. He feeds you, he gives you clothing and education, he arranges the best matches he can for bonding, he even got you here in the first place. You owe him everything, you’re nothing without him.

So then… Why do you find yourself thinking back on all the harsh words, all the punishments, all the screaming and crying, all the… t-touches…

You gulp. “M-Master ensures I have the best living conditions and opportunities I can.” Is what you settle for.

He hums.

There is silence for a moment and lord Morax settles down his cup.

“I don’t think you’re aware of how special you are.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t surprise you anymore, he utters those words and makes your heart speed up.

Is this anxiety? Fear?

“Judging from what your Master has told me, you’re treated like quite the novelty, an exotic half-blood not unlike the Valuka Shuna or Kätzlein. Here in Liyue however those with traits like yours are called Xiānshòu.” The foreign word rolls off his tongue. His golden eyes fix on you and you freeze. “Also known as illuminated beasts. With immense power and longevity, even the half-bloods. They’re well respected and looked up to, why, some are even revered as deities...”

You? Such a fantastic creature? That can’t be…

“Seems to me like things are different in the deserts of Sumeru, however.” His eyes narrow and for the first time you notice his diamond pupils. They look like a snake’s. The same eerie glint he had a few minutes ago is back darkening the bright golden eyes. Yet, for some strange reason you don’t feel scared this time.

A shiver travels down your spine as you feel your instincts purr in delight. Protective… for some reason lord Morax is being protective of you. You don’t know why or how but you can feel it and it made your inner Omega preen inside. An Alpha wanted to protect you, care for you.

“Such a shame.” He adds, sounding almost disappointed but there is something darker underneath. Word simmering with… frustration? “You are such a lovely dragoness, worthy of every praise and prayer they’d sign in your name here.”

You’re very glad your cup rests at your lap, blushing furiously with trembling hands.

For the next few moments, he continued to ask some more questions. What you like or dislike, what you do in your free time, even something as innocuous as your favorite color. Time seemed to stretch into infinity as you grew a little more comfortable with your answers and the whole situation, as though you weren’t talking to an emperor, or even a potential master or Alpha but rather… someone who saw you for who you are.

You liked that. You liked him.

You wanted to stay with him.

You wished to-

“Alright, I think that’s enough. I will have a talk with your Master and we’ll settle things.” He stands up and dusts his attire a little.

Your breath stops.

He is leaving.

Did you do something wrong? Didn’t he say he liked your appearance? Are you such a failed disgraceful omega? Your last chance at bonding. You didn’t even get to impress him. You want to call out to him, do something, anything. Panic rises in your chest, drowning you, freezing you. You can barely think, instincts screaming, begging, wailing in despair for him. This kind Alpha, this gentle, patient, imposing, majestic Alpha who’s too good for you and yet something deep inside you yearns for him…!

“I am very glad to have met you little xiānshòu.” A small smile tugs at his lips. Then, he turns and heads for the sliding doors.

So, you do the first thing that comes to your mind.

The empty cup falls from your hands, your footsteps thump loudly on the wooden floors, soft fabric clenches between your fingers.

As soft as the lips you crash yours onto.

…

It only lasts a few seconds but when you back just a little, ears low and tail curled up in apprehension, you realize what you did.

You’d kissed him, you’d kissed the emperor.

You’re shaking like a leaf, clinging to him for dear life. He stares at you with wide surprised eyes but you’d rather die right here for your insolence than live the rest of your days in regret.

His scent takes on an alluring hint to it and your inner Omega is overjoyed. Up so close it is almost irresistible. His face remains impassive, if a little tense, but you can see in his eyes something you identify very well… hunger, desire.

“Lord Morax… t-the nest… please.”

“Y-You don’t have to-”

“Please! Allow me to please you, allow me to show you…how…” You whisper against his lips, leaning in again as your eyes flutter close.

And suddenly his hands wrap around you and pull you close, cupping your face, curling at your waist, there’s something possessive in it and you feel slight vibrations as he growls deep from his chest against your mouth. But there is also something sweet, something delicate…

And for once, you want more. You want this.

How did you end up here? In the most beautiful nest you’d ever constructed, with the most handsome, kind, caring Alpha you’d ever met?

His kisses are deep and slow, completely unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You lie on the soft sheets as he looms over you, exploring your mouth with an unhurried pace, hungry yet not forceful, letting you timidly do the same at your own pace.

This is nice…

His hands run along your body, caressing your skin through your flimsy attire. His touch curious but gentle.

“May I?” He asks, tugging at the fabric off your shoulder.

You shiver, at his voice, as the pure want in it, in his eyes, in his scent.

“Y-yes my lord…”

“Hmm…” His kisses trail down your jaw down to your neck as he starts pulling the garments off. Careful, instead of simply ripping them apart, your heart skips a beat. “If we’re going to do this, you can use my name and not just titles…”

Your top falls off and goosebumps litter your skin, nipples pebbled as one of his hands cups your breast.

“M-Morax…” You try, shakily, as if testing out the word alone on your lips.

“No, little one. Zhongli. That is my name.” He kisses down your shoulders, nipping at the skin.

“Ah!” Your tail flickers around and you purr.

You take the initiative to kiss him this time, and your hands start roaming his foreign clothes, fumbling with knots and pawing at the fabric. He chuckles at your frustrated whine. You want more, more of this feeling, more of him. To touch his skin, cover him in kisses, worship him.

(Show him what a good Omega you can be.)

No…

You want to make him feel good and please him.

Elegant fabric falls down discarded as he shakes off the layers of his top and you blink surprised. The fabric was bulky and covered up his figure. Lean but muscled, tantalizing like honey. You immediately latch onto him, nosing, scenting, nipping and kissing, feeling the faint outline of his abs and muscles twitch under your touch. He smells so good, he feels so good…

Your Omega instincts are starting to cloud your senses more and more.

Suddenly one of his hands gently squeezes a soft breast and you moan at the sudden touch “O-Oh!”

“You’re sensitive here, do you like this?” He asks, massaging your chest.

You whimper and nod frantically, tail wagging behind you. You had never been this responsive to having your chest played with, though then again, it was rare… but his sensual touches were quickly undoing you. Wetness pools at your gut and you rub your legs together.

Lord Mor- Zhongli… leans down then and something wet flicks over your nipple making you gasp, before warmth surrounds your nub. You cry out even louder. He sucks and laps at it and you instinctively tangle your hands on his hard dark hair, your legs wrapping around his waist.

You groan again, too many layers on the way.

“C-clothes… off, please!”

“As you wish, my dear dragoness.”

He continues squeezing, kissing, caressing and lapping at your skin, leaving a couple of hickeys along the way and teasing his Alpha fangs against you as his attention descends through your body once more, continuing his trail of kisses along your hip. His fingers dip down the waistband of your mesh pants and when you raise your hips to help, he pulls them down.

You’ve been naked in front of others more times than you’d like to count. But there’s something oddly intimate and special about this situation right now.

Your ears lower in apprehension, and your tail flicks by your side, resisting the urge to cover up. Lying down with your legs slightly spread around him. Already flushed, sweaty and panting.

“…You’re gorgeous.”

Huh?!

“I’m so lucky to have found you.” Zhongli nips at your hip. “So lucky that you want me too.” He kisses at your inner thigh.

Your breath hitches.

You’re the lucky one. Completely overjoyed that this Alpha likes you, desires you.

The first touch at your core has you mewling.

Zhongli strokes at your folds, still gentle, finding you soaked as your slick coats his fingers. Your body jolts and you moan “A-Ah!” He smirks against your thigh and nips there again as his fingers move in circles, teasing, testing, before moving to your clit. A finger pad stroking it just so, making your whole frame tremble, like every nerve in your body is being stimulated.

“Mngh- please!”

His fingers travel between your folds. First one sliding in rather easily, pumping steadily as you shudder in pleasure, and then two, making you writhe, bucking your hips against the touch, pushing them deeper, chasing that feeling.

Your body feels hot, too hot. Every sensation blocked except that warm wet feeling down there, in your new heaven. Your hands claw at the sheets, a pleasant fog setting in and you can feel yourself slipping into your most primal needs. But oh, oh, not like this.

You want him. Need him.

“You- y-you! please my lord!”

Something snaps in the Alpha’s eyes and Zhongli growls. Golden eyes dark, swallowed by lust and need and you whine when his fingers leave you. You vaguely hear rustling noises and before you can protest again, he pulls you up back on his lap and oh…

He’s big.

His erection stands proud between your bodies, rubbing against you and you shuffle impatiently, nuzzling against him.

Yes, yes…

Zhongli helps positioning you, gives himself a few strokes, and you feel his cockhead kiss at your entrance, you whine and stare at him rather confused. “L-Like this? B-But I have never- This is n-not how-”

He kisses your forehead, your nose, and pecks at your lips. “I can imagine this is very different from how they’ve taught you Alphas mount Omegas, but I my dear, intend to make love to you.” He whispers, hot breath fanning your cheeks as he nuzzles you, so close, so intimate. Your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Like this you will have more control. I want you to relax, enjoy, my sweet dragoness.” He kisses at your cheek, down your jaw to your neck. “May I?”

You can feel your eyes water. No one had ever told you that. No Alpha had ever been this patient or even asked your permission before. Words die on your throat as you stare mesmerized at Zhongli. Grateful. Incredulous. Completely enamored.

You nod, and he guides you down.

It’s different like this. So much different.

You bite your lip and whine a little once you start to move, his hands hold your hips as you raise them and sink back down on his cock, inch by delicious inch. You feel… full, but warm, good. Your insides clench around him and he groans.

Oh… you could get used to this…

“Hah… ah! … m-my lord... I’m…” You feel dizzy but in a good way, your body tingles all over and it’s exhilarating, addicting.

He leans forward a bit, nosing at your collarbone, soft kisses tickle your skin and he… he’s almost purring in delight, inhaling your scent. “I told you, you can just call me by my name... Would you let me hear it?”

You buck languidly on his embrace, enjoying this…sensual experience, these new feelings and sensations. His tender closeness, his intoxicating pheromones, his deep baritone.

Him.

“Zhongli…”

His name comes out as a needy cry and he growls, Alpha pride clearly satisfied. His hands roam your body just enough to shift position and pull you even closer, hips rolling in tandem, picking up speed, his fangs grazing your shoulder.

Your head is swimming in pleasure, fuzzy like stuffed with cotton, small little “Ah… ah… ah!” moans punched out of you. You’re vaguely aware of your nails digging onto his skin but you can’t even stop yourself, you need to hold onto something, anything.

Even your tail subconsciously curls around his ankle (and he doesn’t even seem to mind), like every cell of your body is screaming at you to hold onto him and never let go.

Zhongli’s own breathing comes out in harsh puffs and satisfied groans as he buries himself in you over and over, the sound of skin slapping on skin becomes more prominent.

And then, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

Your eyes snap open (when had you closed them?) Back arching as if struck by lightning and letting out a high-pitched moan. H-How did he do that?! What was that? You don’t remember ever feeling like this in previous bonding attempts.

“M-more?” You mewl in delight.

Zhongli looks at you with a satisfied smirk and it only fuels the fire in your belly.

“Gladly.”

That same wonderful feeling travels up and down your body again and again as your moans and whimpers rise in volume, calling his name over and over. Zhongli kisses you, deep and passionate. Whispers praises and sweet nothings on your flickering dragon ears. Touches you so soft and reverently. Your body feels so hot, your mind going blank, you can feel the base of his cock swelling with his knot and the familiar coil of pleasure tightening as you anticipate it, crave it, more intense and satisfying than ever before.

And just as you reach that high, his fangs sink into you.

You come with a squeal, body tensing, clinging onto him, clenching on him as he lets out a deep satisfied groan, knotting you. Wet stickiness coats your insides and thighs. And everything feels right, just right. Perfect even.

It takes a moment to come back to your senses, and it’s to Zhongli’s hands rubbing circles at your back comfortingly, while he laps and kisses at the bonding mark he left on you.

And then the high comes crashing down.

The bonding mark.

Tears well up in your eyes and start rolling down your cheeks, your tail uncoiling from him and curling around yourself protectively, ears down.

Please no… this can’t be…

Please stay…

Please.

Zhongli immediately notices your distress, in your actions and your scent, completely different altogether. His own instincts going wild at the lack of a happy sated mate scent. “Darling, what’s wrong? I’m sorry did it hurt that much? Did I… harm you in some way or did something wrong?” Oh, he sounds so genuinely concerned.

You shake your head desperately. Of course he hasn’t.

But you will.

Your body will. Betray you as always.

No bonding mark has stayed in your neck for longer than a few minutes. They all fade.

Just like the alphas that place them in you.

And then comes the anger, the guilt, the disappointment, the despair, the loneliness…

You can’t take it. Not this time.

“S-stay… please…” You sob.

Your voice sounds so broken, so weak and tiny, absolutely heart wrenching.

And Zhongli embraces you.

“I will, my dearest dragoness. I promise you.” He kisses one of your horns.

You want to believe him but you can only cry harder…

The room is dark as your eyes flutter open. It takes a few minutes to adjust and for your mind to catch up. Where are you…? You look around at the wooden walls, nestled in comfy sheets, you see some wooden cabinets and a tea set-

…!!!

You jolt awake, tumbling some pillows from your fancy nest. Your last chance at bonding. The emperor. He was leaving, and then…!

You slap a hand against the junction between neck and shoulder and feel something there, a bandage… you try to stare at it confused, though it’s impossible from the angle. And then fear consumes you. What if… it’s not there…?

Your body is still naked, though you have been covered with a thick fabric while sleeping, as it now pools at your lap, your Omega scent and that of an Alpha mixed together pleasantly, you turn around.

The Emperor. Lord Morax. Zhongli.

He sleeps peacefully by your side, on your nest, after having mated you.

He stayed.

You stare at his handsome features, fair skin, dark long hair, strong jaw, muscled arms. His lips slightly parted as he breathes evenly. So at ease.

You want to reach out and brush at his hair, touch his face, kiss him.

You want this moment to last forever.

Looking up slightly you see the large mirror, see yourself. A tiny thing, with freaky ears, horns and a tail.

It was… good, while it lasted. Almost like a dream.

Tears start falling down your cheeks again and you try to be as silent as possible as you pull and lift at the bandage in your shoulder. And there underneath it is… something?

Your fingers trace a mark, a wound, it stings and you hiss.

No way. There is no way.

Hope flutters in your chest, your stomach flips and you feel dizzy, nervous. A bonding mark? Is it real? Is it still there?

You shuffle out of the nest as fast and stealthily as you can, standing in front of the mirror. Hair a mess, eyes wide, pale in fear.

And there it is. The clear mark of an Alpha bite, still rather tender. A claim. A bond.

You start sobbing as you trace it, touch it, feel it. It must have been hours, there is no way…

It’s there, it’s there, for real. You want to laugh, to cry, you’re still nervous, scared, hopeful, happy, a million things at once.

But how? Why now?

“Hnng… darling? Are you crying again?” You stiffen as you hear the voice, deep and hoarse, laced with drowsiness. You turn and see him sit up and yawn carelessly like a rishboland tiger. Elegant and intimidating like one too with his bright golden eyes, Alpha fangs and muscled figure. Still naked as well, you note.

“T-the bonding mark… it’s still there!” You exclaim to him, gesturing to it.

“You should let it heal nicely.”

“Y-You don’t get it!” You huff. “My Lord… it’s still there! I’m bonded, I’m yours!”

He chuckles. “Rather, I would say we belong to each other, now.”

Belong to each other.

That sounds nice.

You turn back to the mirror, still staring at it, poking it with a finger softly, as if afraid it’ll disappear, as if it was an illusion, a dream.

But it’s there.

“For years… for years I thought I was doing s-something wrong, that there was something… wrong… with me…” You cry softly. “No Alpha had even bonded me…”

Suddenly you feel strong arms curl around your frame, a chin resting at your shoulder where it kisses your skin, and then brushes over the mark. It stings but you welcome it.

It means it’s real, all of this is.

Zhongli inhales, taking in your scent. “Well you see my dear, a dragonblood… a xiānshòu like you, can only be truly bonded by one of its own kind.”

The words take a moment to process, to sit on your brain, and you frown confused, staring at him from the mirror. And then your eyes widen.

Golden antlers crown his head, majestic and almost glowing, small scales appear under his striking amber eyes, the color of burnt ocher. A large tail, even bigger than yours in golden and brown hues, sways lazily behind him, before finding yours and intertwining with it, the feel is foreign but not unwelcome. Like holding hands.

You turn around so fast you almost trip if it weren’t for his hold. The dragonblood features are still there, in plain sight.

Your throat feels dry.

“You… you’re…”

He raises a finger to his lips and shushes you, then smiles. “I am yours my dear. Just as you are now mine.”

You cling to him and hide your face on his chest as you cry. Overwhelmed, relieved.

Yes, this is where you belong.

#zhongli smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #PLS I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH????#this took SOOOO LONG SORRY AAAAAAA #idek what to say here lma just enjoy hope ppl like it bc.... it's so long;;;;;#got a pretty header tho serious business :O #LohK #just in case (?)

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margowritesthings · 9 months

Text

A Job Well Done

pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader (f) word count: 4944 words warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexually explicit, oral (f giving), rough oral, a little choking, a touch of voyeurism, explicit language, it's pretty much a blowjob fic authors note: idk what to say... this started as a little drabble because me and my fiancé love having a little smoke together at night and.... well, here we are I guess?? i hope you enjoy you lovely lot, and if you've asked to be tagged and you're not please let me know!! I have a new system for keeping track of my taglist and I may have lost some requests in the transfer

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i *if i've missed you please let me know!!!*

You pull Arthur’s jacket tighter around your shoulders, settling into the old wooden chair while it creaks beneath you. Thanks to being in the middle of the Lemoyne swamps, it isn’t too cold despite the moon hanging so high in the sky above you, the jacket is more for comfort. From where you sit, you can see near the whole camp, watching lanterns flicker off incrementally as each member of your makeshift family retires for the night. A few of the boys stay up, drinking by the fire, their voices muffled and distant in the thick air.

It’s been a week to the day since you last saw Arthur, before he left to track a rather sizable bounty down and attempt to cushion out the camp funds, and God do you miss him. The days feel so much longer, nights so lonely you’ve considered saddling up and finding the bastard yourself just to bring him home sooner. Comfort can be found, though, in the ways Arthur’s presence has bled so deeply into your life that his physical being doesn’t even need to be here.

His smell lingers on the jacket he left (the one he wore every day before he had to leave just so you could wear it when you missed him), that perfect mix of tobacco and whiskey and something so ineffably Arthur that you soak up every time you wrap it around your frame.

He’s there in the routines you've built your lives around, intertwined as they are, the ones you can’t shake even if he’s not beside you. The cup of coffee in a morning, his so much better tasting than yours but you try anyway. The first morning after he left, you made two, ending up giving the extra to a very grateful Abigail to save face.

There’s a nightly routine, too. The one where you get ready for bed, then climb through the window to meet him on your balcony. He’s always there waiting with a cigarette hanging from his lips, patting his lap ready for you to crawl on. He’ll drag a match across his boot, (or sometimes the bottom of yours, if you’re still wearing them) lighting up the smoke before handing it to you. You’ll pass it between each other, catching up on your days, limbs entangled just how they should be as you watch Shady Belle fall asleep around you.

Without him, those routines bring you comfort, grasping onto the remnants of your cowboy until his safe return. That’s why you’re sitting in this spot, pulling a cigar out of the little tin stash box Arthur left behind. Normally it’s just a cigarette, you could never survive a cigar a night and have the throat to tell the tale, but there’s something inexplicably Arthur about this brand of smokes, something you’re seeking tonight.

You pluck a match from the tin, striking it against the table beside you, never having gotten the knack of igniting the thing on your boot as effortlessly as Arthur does, and light the cigar between your lips. The all-familiar woody essence dances across your tongue, your tired muscles relaxing from the first few tokes.

It’s just you, the moon and the crickets as you sit on the balcony, Arthur’s smoke between your lips. You wonder what he’s doing. He should be sleeping, but knowing him he’s probably up planning, or doing exactly what you are right now. You pray he’s safe, hasn’t been gotten by the law or worse, gotten himself killed. You can’t let yourself even think about that, the very idea bringing a tremble to your limbs. To combat the sudden spike in anxiety, the next time you bring the cigar to your lips you drag in just that bit more smoke, letting it soak down your spine. Not nearly as experienced in smoking as Arthur, you cough a little, but you recover much quicker than you used to.

Memories of that first time, of Arthur offering you the little brown stick and you nervously nodding, bring a little smile to your face. Oh, how you spluttered, Arthur giving you his drink on instinct, only realising that the whiskey burn would do the opposite of help once it was too late. You’d have been in your right mind to be embarrassed as hell, but by the way he chuckled as he rubbed circles around your back told you that he found it nothing but adorable.

You sit there for a few minutes, basking in the precious peace so seldom found nowadays and taking a drag every now and then, the smoke riding a sigh from your lips. Your eyes slip closed, trying to shut off as many senses as you can to really connect with that smell and taste, imagining him emerging from your bedroom window to be here with you.

He’s much less graceful than you are, often catching some part of his person on the windowsill when he climbs out onto the balcony. So many nights spent patching up little holes in his pant legs, right where that out sticking nail used to be in the frame before he ‘bested it in combat’ (i.e. pulled it out with a hunting knife and threw it ceremoniously in the lake).

Manifestation is a powerful tool, you’ve always believed that, but you still nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a large hand grasp your shoulder just as you imagined, Arthur’s gruff, hushed whisper tickling the words “hey, sweetheart” into the skin of your neck. It takes you a second to catch your breath, heart racing from the shock before everything registers and reality sets in.

“Arthur?”

He’s here.

“C’mere, darlin’.”

You fly out of your seat, the rickety old thing nearly splintering under the force, launching yourself into his open arms to burrow yourself into him. Every part of him consumes your senses and you drink it all in like an addict. The smell, the real thing, much more of that Arthur essence than the whiskey or cigars, probably because he forewent breaks in his journey for those little pleasures to get back to you sooner.

He seems to be taking you in as much as you are him, inhaling long through his nose and sighing it out contentedly, feeling whole again after so long without you in his arms.

“I missed ya’, beautiful.” He says softly into your hair, holding you tight against him, his knuckles brushing up and down the small of your back through layers of clothes you’ve stolen from him.

“I missed you so much…” You mumble into his shirt, hardly able to breathe through the wall of hard chest muscle you’re pressed against, caring even less.

It’s only then do you remember the cigar, forgotten and abandoned, smoking away on the table propped up on a jar lid turned makeshift ashtray. Most of the boys don’t bother with one, and neither did Arthur, until a fateful night a few months before you started dating when you first handed him the jar and told him you read something about birds and rabbits eating the butts of cigarettes. He kept the little piece of junk right next to his bedside, waiting for you to find it after that first night together.

Arthur spots your momentary pull of attention, pulling his chest away to raise a brow down at you with a little chuckle rumbling his chest.

“Having a fancy smoke of a night, are we?”

A cheeky little smirk- Arthur’s favourite, actually- tugs at the corner of your lips, waiting patiently for him to kiss it away.

“The smell reminds me of you…” you play coy, earring yourself that kiss when Arthur lifts you up to his height, kissing you softly, letting his world and yours fall back into place together.

“Well I’m here now, angel. Wanna sit? Could do with a nice cigar with my girl to celebrate a job well done.”

You’re eager to nod, heart fluttering at the prospect of getting to sit with him and hear all about his trip. He untangles from you to sit down first, patting his lap for you to crawl into. You fit perfectly together (you should do, you were made for eachother), head resting on his shoulder, legs splayed over his thighs with your arm draped over his shoulder. The cigar has gone out, so Arthur strikes a match so expertly on his spurs before shaking it out and placing his hand on the small of your back for support. You lean into him, watching him take puffs of the cigar and feeling the tiniest bit of tension leave his joints. He looks so natural with a smoke between his teeth, commanding an air of power with each movement he makes. Smoking doesn’t suit just everyone, you think, but God, does it suit him.

“We’re celebrating? You got the bastard, then?”

“Sure did,” he says, smoke spilling from his lips with each syllable. Arthur looks you over again, drinking in the dearly missed view, before kissing you on the forehead and flipping the cigar between his fingers to offer it up, “Eventually found him up in Fort Brennand, but he weren’t alone. Nearly lost a damn eye, but luckily only Woffard had to be brought in alive, so I dropped the other bastards and ran.”

You hang on his every word, your hero. You know he’s downplaying the fight, the danger of it all, but he does it so that you don’t worry every time he’s gone. It never works, and you always do, but you love him for trying.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m so glad you’re alright…” You coo, pressing a hand to his cheek, feeling the weeks worth of stubble scratching against your palm. He nuzzles into your touch, not unlike a cat, and your find yourself keeping your hand there to mindlessly play with his hair, tipping his hat off to put on your own head. He chuckles, reaching to adjust it on you.

“Course I am, couldn’t leave you here all alone with this buncha’ fools, could I? Besides, someones gotta bring home the bacon around here, and you know Marston’s too trigger happy to bring a bounty in alive.”

“So you got the full price?” Your eyes gleam, the proudest smile on your features as Arthur nods and shifts both your weights for a moment to pull out a stack of bills and smack them on the table dramatically.

“You’re damn straight I did, baby.”

Of course he did. Arthur never fails, and God knows how much the camp needs this right now, freedoms diminishing by the day as Dutch makes more enemies and plans jobs that just seem to keep going wrong. But you don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, there is only you and Arthur, and the promise of a whole night spent with him uninterrupted. You hand him the cigar back, along with a stolen kiss, and he takes another mesmerising drag. The way he holds it, every so often tipping the ash into the first gift you ever gave him, it does things to you that you just can’t explain. It’s just a cigar, and yet you’re pressing your thighs together tight to futilely subdue the tightness coiling between them.

“I’m so proud of you… I always am.” Unkempt locks of hair are twisted between your fingers, your face so close to Arthur’s you can pepper his cheek, temple and lips, whenever not occupied, with little kisses, Arthur’s hat sometimes tipping up against his forehead on your head. The two of you are always like this after a few days apart, unable to get enough of each other or keep your hands off one another. You shift your weight to access him better, catching his bottom lip between your teeth to press a long, tender kiss there. He hums under you, hand splaying under your jacket to grasp at your shirt. It’s seconds before you feel it, that hardening that nudges up against your thigh, prodding and reminding you just how much Arthur has missed you.

You pull away from the kiss, just enough to raise a teasing brow at how sensitive your cowboy is to your touch. He shrugs, unashamed, with that cheeky grin and those glistening eyes directed right at you.

“What? I missed ya…” His words are accompanied with a pinch of your ass, which makes you writhe on top of his stiffness, the friction dragging a low growl from deep within his chest.

“I can see that, cowboy… I missed you too. I missed you more.” You emphasise, nipping at his lip again and splaying your fingers across his chest. He rises to your touch, and you feel him stiffen more so under you. It takes a second of manoeuvring, but you’re soon straddling him, hovering above him like the angel he sees you to be. From this angle, with the moon behind you, you’re glowing.

“You absolutely did not, you little siren…” He growls again, pulling at the flesh of your ass so that you’re grinding against him, the friction of denim against denim igniting you both and burning so wonderfully.

“Oh, yeah? I can prove it.” There’s a little cock of your head, a raise of one teasing brow as you start to slide off him. He looks confused, disappointed, even, until your knees rest on the planks of wood on the balcony floor and he instinctively spreads his legs to give you the space between them. Your fingers splay across his thick thighs, and they tense under your touch, as does Arthur’s jaw. He’s starved after a week without you, clearly trying to reign in a control he’s struggling to possess. There’s no wonder, having his girl knelt before him like this.

“You wanna take this to the bedroom?” He growls out, abandoning the still smoking cigar in the jar lid. You look up at him, peeking out from under the rim of his hat.

“No.” You reach for the cigar, taking a few drags yourself before flipping it in your fingers just like he did and placing it between his teeth, “Finish your smoke.”

A distant laugh captures Arthur’s attention for a second, reminding you both just how close you are to the other gang members. You’re somewhat hidden by the railing, but if they looked in your direction, Arthur is fully visible from the chest up. A simple bob of your head- and you’re planning on plenty- would bring you into view.

The look Arthur gives you when he quickly diverts his attention back from Marston and the others is downright feral, especially when your hands reach for his belt buckle. Nimble fingers make quick word of the obstruction, and you’re soon pulling Arthur’s thick, long length out from his jeans. He groans at your very touch, involuntarily bucking his hips up into your hand.

You laugh, the sound a tempting little giggle as you tell him “Patience, cowboy…”

He almost snarls in response, clearly having been goddamn patient enough over the last week where all he could do is fuck himself with your name on his lips and the thought of you knelt just like this between his legs at the forefront of his mind, always.

Just as you lean in, when your soft lips trace over his rosy, swollen head, he pulls you back by plucking his hat from atop your head and throwing it to the side. He rests the cigar between the fingers of his free hand to free his mouth to speak to you.

“Need to see you while I fuck that pretty little moutha’ yours, angel…”

His words soak through you (and soak you through), and you just can’t wait a second longer, needy to have his cock deep down your throat, desperate for the burning of your lungs and the stinging in your eyes when he loses that control he so often vehemently clings to.

Unable to wait a second longer, you run your tongue from base to tip, feeling every vein pulsing under your muscle and eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. When you finally take him in your mouth, his hand reaches to cup your cheek, following you down as you take as much of him as you can.

“Fuck.” He groans, fingers reaching to tangle in your hair, scratching at your scalp. He’s probably louder than he should be, your eyes flickering to the general direction of the others as a warning, but they soon snap back to your cowboy, an intense eye contact burning at your skin as the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat. Arthur never takes his eyes off you, guiding you up and down his length and bringing the smoke to his lips. The tip of the cigar flares a deep, fiery orange, and smoke billows from his mouth with each laboured breath you coax from him. The way he’s sitting, fingers of one hand pulling at your hair, controlling your movements, and the other limply holding the smoke, he exudes a power many seek to master but never quite get. It makes your heart swell and your cunt throb for him, knowing on your knees before him is the only place you ever want to be, knowing only you inhabit it.

You can taste Arthur, his salty essence leaking from the pure ecstasy you’re providing and spit pools in your throat, mixing with it and dribbling down your chin. Arthur catches it with his thumb, guiding you off his cock to push the digit into your mouth and let you suckle from it. You do, hungrily, adjusting on your knees to better take Arthur deep down your throat and-

“Arthur! That you?”

Marston.

For eyes widen at each other, Arthur instinctively pushing you a little lower by your shoulder to keep you out of sight. John hasn’t seen you, and you’d like to keep it that way, being in the incriminating position you are between Arthur’s legs.

You spot the irritated sigh, the twitch of Arthur’s jaw as he plasters a fake friendliness onto his features and peers over the balcony to see his brother standing on the clearing below.

“Sure is. Whatchu’ want?”

Straight to the point.

“We didn’t hear you get back. How long’ve you been here?”

All that tension you’ve worked so hard to dissipate comes back to Arthur’s form with a crashing force. You can almost hear his plea for just one second a’ goddamn peace, merely by the way he sighs before answering.

“Not long, thought I’d try and sneak past you fools and get some shut eye.”

Subtle, cowboy.

Ever oblivious, or simply not caring, John continues, “How’d it go, then? You got the bastard?”

He has you pressed against his thigh to hide you from sight, cock standing to attention right beside your face. It’s too tempting, especially with a none the wiser Marston stood right below. When your tongue darts out, hovering above Arthur’s twitching, aching cock, his eyes flick down to you, warning residing deep in his eyes. You take it as less of a warning, more a challenge.

You wouldn’t.

Oh, but I would.

And you do. You lift up, just enough to fit the head of his throbbing cock past your lips and slide the whole length in. It bumps the back of your throat, but upon hearing Arthur’s strangled, poorly hidden groan, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

“Y-uh… Yeah, I got ‘em…”

It’s impressive, how he can just about hold a conversation despite his cock being so far down your throat his balls rest on your chin.

You can’t see John, but you can only imagine how his head must tilt and his brows must pull together at the strange response from Arthur.

“You alright, brother?”

He won’t be.

You blink up at Arthur, feigning an innocent, near angelic expression as you inhale through your nose and push him even further into you. You hum, low and quiet, letting the vibrations pass through him. Arthur whimpers, instantly knocking any and all sounds you’ve ever heard from top spot and replacing them as your favourite in the whole world.

“I-I’m fine. Just tired.” He tries to hint again, to no avail. His fingers are digging into your shoulder with a bruising force, that control slipping bit by bit with every passing second, every little movement. Tears prick at your eyes, that burning in your lungs you’ve been reaching for finally igniting. You’re stuffed with him, feeling so full that it’s hard to breathe. When you go to release him, to be able to gasp for precious air, you realise you can’t, Arthur’s huge hand holding you right in place with his palm flush against the back of your neck. Revenge.

“Where’s the Mrs?”

A raise of a brow. You’re not married, but everything is so naturally right between you and Arthur that the gang just seem to have defaulted to that. It makes you beam, wanting nothing more than to be this man’s wife, the kind of wife that makes him cum down your throat while he has a menial conversation.

“S-She’s- fuck…” When he grips harder at you, you gag around his length, tears now streaming down your cheeks and mixing with your spittle and the little bits of precum that leak out from Arthur. “She’s in bed. I-I better go check on her, a-actually.” He whimpers again, fingers now gripping into your hair to keep you in place. You’re not sure how much longer you can last like this, struggling to breathe, overflowing and, God, so wet for him.

John sounds unconvinced. You’d giggle, if you could.

“Alright… Well, g’night, brother.”

Arthur barely manages a grunt, and you can feel his thighs tensing and twitching from the sheer effort of not bucking his hips up into you and giving the pair of you away. He stills, most likely waiting for Marston to fuck off already, before he rips you away from him and pulls you to your feet, gripping your aching jaw with force enough force to keep it open.

“You goddamn siren.” He isn’t mad. He’s trying to be, but you know Arthur far too well, and he’s burning with a fire far hotter than mere anger. Need.

The mischievous glint in your eye is all you can offer for response, what with his iron grip on your face, but you do manage to slip your tongue out and lick the pad of his thumb, tasting the mixture of fluids still lingering.

It’s all getting too much, knowing what you just did and who you did it around, hearing Arthur unable to string a sentence together because of you. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, so desperate for a release that you’re pathetically writhing in Arthur’s hold. He notices, forced anger on his features replaced with a cockiness that only comes from knowing he’s regaining the power in the situation.

Your cheeks tingle when he releases you, sitting back in the seat and leaning back, one elbow resting on the arm of the old wooden chair and picking the cigar back up. God, you could ride him in that chair till morning, if you thought the wood wouldn’t splinter under the force.

“You gonna finish what you started, my little siren?” He asks, taking an especially long toke from the smoke while he waits for you to drop to your knees before him. Your cunt throbs, screaming out for his attention, but it would seem your antics have earned you punishment.

Your knees hit the wood with a force, though an involuntary whimper escapes you, hips grinding pathetically against nothing. Arthur notices, smirking like a goddamn cheshire cat at his little wanton whore.

“Patience, angel.” Your own words echo back to you like a slap in the face. You definitely deserve this.

The grip you had on the power in this game you’re playing with Arthur officially disappears when his hand snakes around the back of your neck, grasping at your hair and winding it around his wrist like a leash. You have to tilt your head so the tugging at your scalp is a mere burn rather than a sharp pain, but that’s just where he wants you.

“Now, little siren, I’m gonna teach ya’ some manners, and you’re gonna finish what you started, alright? And if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll think about getting that sweet little cunt of yours off…”

It’s all it takes, the promise of Arthur’s fingers deep inside you while he sucks on your clit just how you like it, lapping up your juices like a man starved, and the defiance in your eyes dissipates. Arthur bends you to his whim, messy, sloppy putty in his hands as he drags you onto his weeping cock. You’re all but drooling for him, leaking out of the corners of your mouth when he slips into you. Your scalp tingles with the pull, especially when Arthur involuntarily tightens his grip with a hiss of his breath. His tip bumps the back of your throat, but he doesn’t stop even when you’ve fit all of him in that you can.

“Fuck, good girl, just like that baby girl…” he groans, and when you open your eyes to look up to him, he is watching you with a gaze so intense you feel like it could tear you apart. The tension burns between you, coiling so tight the chirp of a nearby cricket could snap it.

There’s an unspoken question in your eyes when you start to nearly choke on his length of when you’ll be released, but his eyes darken, “Come on, baby, you can take more, can’t you?”

He seems to register your fear, but it phases him little. It seems more a challenge, really, coaxing him into rocking his hips into you, pushing you even further onto his cock until you feel it start to breach past your throat in a way you didn’t even know possible. You splutter, wriggling and writhing as you try your hardest to breathe through your nose.

“Shh… good girl,” he coos, a ravenous look taking over your usually so lovable cowboy. You’ve pushed him, and God do you live for it. “Not much further… wanna see you take all of my cock, alright? You gonna do that for me, angel?”

You can’t nod, but it isn’t much of a question, not much choice available with your limited movements and the way Arthur has completely commandeered your body. You’re irrevocably his, body and soul.

It doesn’t feel possible to fit more of him in, your throat burning for relief that won’t come until Arthur is satisfied, but when he bucks his hips into you, you feel his base press against your nose. He groans hard, the noise initially from the sensation of having your throat wrapped around his cock, but when he sees the sight of you, tear stained and gagging on him, the moan is pulled out into a noise of pure ecstasy.

“Good girl… my good fuckin’ girl.”

His thumb rubs lovingly over your wet cheek, a sensation you cling to as the corners of your vision get fuzzy. Fuck, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out, but you’re so desperate to feel Arthur’s spend trickling down your throat, feel him lose control and moan just for you that you’d honestly be willing to die for it.

Your expression, complete with lust-fogged, watery eyes, and beautifully flushed skin, teases the last of Arthur’s restraint like a razor thin blade against that final thread. When it finally snaps, you’re allowed one gasp for air, before he’s thrusting back into you hard. You can feel him stiffen, even more so than before, as his hips splutter into your mouth and he starts to tumble over the precipice into that realm of pleasure that only the two of you share.

“F-Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” But he interrupts himself with a visceral, primal groan, the vibration of it shattering the both of you. You take advantage of his practically inebriated state to regain some of your own anatomy, managing to swirl your tongue around his pulsing head inside your mouth. The hot, salty spend blooms across your tongue at that, Arthur guiding you by the cheek to bob up and down on his cock while he paints your throat white. His moans are a melody you’ll never tire of, animalistic and vulnerable all the same.

It feels like it never stops, Arthur’s spend filling your mouth up and leaking out from the corners of your lip. You can hardly stay still, writhing your needy cunt against your own heel, desperate for a reward you’re earning when you look him in the eye and swallow it all down. Pride blooms across Arthur’s features, saturated with a love that warms you from the inside out. His thumb caresses your face softly, wiping the tear tracks as you finally release his cock from your mouth and he guides you to your feet, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then nose, then lips.

“My good girl…” He coos, barely above a whisper as you breathe each other in, both as breathless as the other. Your throat aches, your jaw burning, but you’d do it a thousand times over to experience what you just did all over again.

“Now…” He splits the sentence with another kiss, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Get on inside, sweetheart, I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redeption 2 #red dead 2

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ratcandy · 9 months

Text

Anyway while rummaging through the ONE tags and a few critiques, I’ve noticed a lot of debate over what Stone’s whole deal was given the ending of the show and. Well I want to speculate a little

Going to be referring to Stone as he/they because the wiki is telling me it's he/him but they/them feels Better to me . I get to gender the Stone.

also this post will be Long. Forewarning you!!!

I don’t think Stone is evil, first of all. I saw at least one proposal that Stone was acting out of some form of malice,, and I reeeeaaallly doubt it; the character we see is frantic and anxious, without any hints toward some darker intentions or. Idk, conniving? Attitude? it just doesn’t make sense with what we are shown of Stone. Granted we aren’t shown much but u know

Unless you want to count Liam’s wonky ass hallucination thing with Stone going like “you think you understand, don’t you?” Or whatever — but I count that Even Less since that was. Again. Wonky Liam hallucination or somethin, not Stone’s actual character

Cool idea for an au though I’ll say that much!

now I ALSO don’t think Stone was totally in the right either, but it's one of those situations where he was going to be some form of Wrong no matter what he did.

In my interpretation of Stone’s abilities, they could see the past and all possible futures with the past/present in mind. From what I've seen in the tags, this is a popular headcanon, which is great because if I was alone in this interp I think I would explode

When put into the Plane, I think he saw two things: The ending we got and an alternative. Or perhaps multiple alternatives depending on smaller factors. And I think whatever alternative(s) he saw were either of equal suffering or worse, meaning he was put into a situation of picking between evils.

For example, say he sees a future where Liam doesn’t involve himself with trying to stop Airy and just tries to reintegrate into society after being eliminated. This leaves Airy to continue ONE, perhaps even running through a full, “smooth” competition with no more or few additions, meaning a winner is chosen and everyone else eventually gets to go home. But then this allows Airy to keep going into a season three, maybe four — and it becomes a trolley problem.

Leave these contestants stuck forever and stop it at season 2 as a means to minimize future suffering, or just allow it to run its course.

The issue lies in that. This really should not have been Stone’s decision to make. He's - intentionally or not - playing God with lives that he should not be allowed to Play God with. but at the same time, he likely was aware of his limited time and didn’t see a future where he could communicate everything to the contestants before his elimination (let alone let them debate on it). So it’s…. Yeah. Literally a trolley problem. Let the trolley hit 5 people or flip the lever so it only hits 1.

anyway My point is this. This gives Stone reasoning for his actions and makes his role in the show more understandable. He doesn't just send Liam on a wild goose chase ending in failure/hopelessness for no reason; he does it because in his eyes, the other options were worse.

Yeah, he led them all to a bad ending, but we don't know what he could have seen in the alternatives. Especially if Airy's season 3 was the same regardless, in which local lantern yoinks the got damn loved ones of this group into the next round of hellworld. Not only would there then be compounded suffering on the group we already have, but suffering for those characters, and I EMPHASIZE that one of the season 3 contestants was going to be Charlie's MOM. So like. Um....

And since this show LOVES to fuck around with human mentality and rationality, I think it makes sense to include the world’s most fucked up trolley problem in the middle, even if not made abundantly clear to us.

I also like the addition to this idea that Stone just wrote as much as possible on those sticky notes, regardless of if they would end up used or not, explaining why some (like the 5) still don't make sense afterwards. They wrote everything they thought could help lead into one or a few futures, and at that point, it was up to Liam/Bryce to go from there with what they were given.

AKA Stone doesn't see just one, unchangeable, solid future, and he can't predict exactly which one will come to fruition. He can only nudge the people around him in directions he thinks are most favorable.

And for all we know, the smallest thing could have fucked up his entire plan and led us to the ending we got to. Amelia not giving him the sticky notes (why would he go for them if he thought she'd never give them to him in any possible future?) could have been what forced him to hide the sticky notes in Liam, and when that leads to his elimination, he just panics in that last minute to write out the last helpful thing he can -- The votes are fake.

now why he decided to write each letter on an individual sticky note is beyond me but idk maybe there's a butterfly effect SOMEWHERE in that nonsense shdgKJDSHG

anyway. yea. That's all. I am thinking about Stone

#i started writing this late last night and added to it this morning #i've reached the point of slightly more comprehensible thoughts . as u might be able to see here #VERY long ramble #<- been a while !!!! wrow!#nothing I'm saying here hasn't been said before I'm just lining it all out to get my thoughts down + emphasize some things #mostly because i'm Unwell! :)#clamtalk #hfjone #hfjone stone #objecthour

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1-800-i-ship-it · 2 years

Note

Hi! For romanticized asks: 2, 5 (btw you know what this question made me think of xD), 21, 25, 34. Have a nice day! :D

hi dim!

2. if someone were to catch Hanahaki disease for you, what flowers would they cough up?

KJADKFSNELF goddamn we starting with the intense q's huh xD i would hope they dont have to suffer but hm...jasmine maybe so it can also help them heal ish,,,tried to do some research on flowers with healing properties xD i do think it would be fitting if they coughed up flowers that r the same as my real name but that might also end up as a negative connotation so idk lmao haha

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

yup dim...yup i know exactly what ur talking about and i Dont like it xD anyway though i think i would want to be the goddess of compassion or rambling or smth, if we were to go into specifics we could do specifically tumblr tags and sacrifices would just be whatever tumblr tags xD i'll read them like the morning newspaper

21. an evening in the forest with elves, a night in the caves with vampires or a morning in the garden with fae?

hmm i think i would pick a morning in the garden with fae haha cause gardens r just nice and i would be able to see things better in daylight

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

honestly i cant think of much, but heres a funny one: when i was in preschool or kindergarten (dont remember which) we had designated nap time (they should give us this in hs/college/etc instead tbh) and me and my friend got up and did cartwheels, got caught, and i had to stand against the wall for like 20 min or smth for punishment xD (i cant do cartwheels anymore unfortunately lmao)

34. if you could have any magical item, what would it be?

thats so tough honestly hmm...green lantern ring? or maybe a wand or something haha

thank you for the ask! (dang beat me to the nice day again xD) hope you have a nice day too :D

#bluris answers asks #dimobserver #dim #thanks for the ask!#i swear im not crocs brief deity...o god xD #hopefully my answers r entertaining haha #enjoy the rest of ur day/evening etc... :D

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seelestia · 2 years

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that's what i get for always spending time with him i guess lmao and yes ofc you're v v welcome to invade my inbox anytime you so wish <3

the two hu taos running around is sure to turn anyone's hair grey lol i can't for the life of me imagine the shenanigans you're both up to when put together /j

ah the social status gap ;;;; THAT'S 3 TROPES IN ONE HLDJSFLKSJDL OH MY LORD i can already taste the bitter angst at the tip of my tongue....

I THINK SO lol black + blue palette on ayato... and with all the signature fatui accessories... gosh. i really can't. any artists seeing this, if you ever want to draw it please tag me 🙏🏻 yeah no the moment he starts liking your presence you're locked in for life sis i am so sorry- /j

that's so fast sldkjfsldf i'm still on part 2 atm and i probably won't continue anytime soon cause of vacation plans sobsob

the rng gods blessed you with that one lollll nahh i am hopeless at building characters i tell you. i have no idea what i'm doing 80% of the time 🤣 i'm just here for the lore and music/voice and zhongli ✨

literally us:

"a child holding a bomb is two terrible signs manifested into one." i am dead, deceased, wheezing, tearing up with laughter-

oh al haitham is coming home whether he wants it or not 😈 i think i might skip 3.1 banners entirely in favor of saving up... the remelting tablet has got me hooked on ayato's playstyle so i'm eyeing for when he reruns too. probably not gonna be soon but still... also i want scara when he comes out solely bc his jp va lmao (and on that note, maybe childe hmmm)

definitely, more chars >>>>>>> constellations!!! yeah that's actually a good thinking hahah being on guaranteed is fun but also stressful sometimes.... my brother is at 60 pity rn and he actually wanted dori but he doesn't dare to pull bc he doesn't like ganyu or kokomi's playstyle lol rip

oooo strawberry and passionfruit tea, those sounds gooooood <3

i imagine zhongli very much approves of our tea addiction lol

atp, you should put copying zhongli's speech to a tee as your hidden talent 😭 i guess, this is what happens when you write for him sm, huh?? + all that listening to his voicelines, uh-huhhh 👀 i cannot blame you for that will also be me when i get ayato 🚶 (the day i start using, "ah, yes. naturally." like him is the day you'd know i've gone off of the deep end /j)

i may make your hair grey, but you will love me either way, right??? *innocently bats eyelashes* (/lh) hu tao and lia in one room would fr be the most effective aging process because i'd honestly laugh at her jokes and then add on to them 😭 also, i vividly recall that one time when zhongli did his osmanthus wine idle and i just absentmindedly responded, "i think your friends are six feet under tho". THE SILENCE AFTERWARDS WAS SO LOUD. idk how i can be both chaotic and chill at the same time (is this where my venti side comes out /j)

a love triangle with ayato and thoma is such a concept 🙏 but with a more realistic twist to it and with that, comes the harsh realization that reality brings. after all, a fairytale-like love is pleasant to indulge in; an escape, an almost surreal-like lantern of hope but you can't keep your head buried in books forever, can you? reality where capitalism reigns (/j) will always call, whether you wish to turn a blind eye to it or not. MMM, REALITY, THE ENEMY OF DAYDREAMERS *hiss* 🤺 (/lh)

fatui!ayato, what an enigma (don't lock me up, please. at least, let rin jie visit me because she'll help bail me out /j) 👀 yeahhh, you can't escape him if he's locked onto you <//3 which makes me think about how he'd be as your ex... i feel like ayato would be that smiling yet salty on the inside + passive aggressive ex. LOLLL he would 100% sneakily trip your new partner in public and extend an oh-so gracious and concerned helping hand to them (wowww, talk about sneaky).

rin jie, the only thing keeping me going with the quests is the aranara's <//3 i just divided the quests neatly, so i followed the process of completing at least one or two quests per day — THIS WAS EXACTLY HOW I DID MY STUDYING AND I GOT WAR FLASHBACKS FROM MY LAST EXAMS 😭 i love it when i apply my studying technique to long genshin quests, hehehe 🥸🏃 (/s)

who cares about meta because even at ar 50+, we're just cruising thru 🏂 does your brother beg to differ with his op builds??? we shall abandon him. (/j) i still remember when you told me he started building diluc after the new skin was released LOLLL and speaking of !! have you read up on enkanomiya's lore yet??? because remember my boy, caelin?? i think i might post his profile soon 👀 but absolutely dw if you haven't, the lore related to enkanomiya is only in the trivia section at the very end~

YEAHHHH, the way we are saving for both al-haitham and ayato 🤝 no because i was so happy when i saw ayato in the fayz trials + remelting tablet event 😭 the way he does his normal attacks, hello??? it was enjoyable being an ayato main even for a few minutes, i'm getting a taste of my future <//3 but let's wish scara and al-haitham won't be on the same banner because that shall be your true test + you're softening up to childe, it aeems??? 👀

#your brother isn't gonna take a chance for dori huh HELDPOWK i hope he'll get her again in the future! >:)#and tell zhongli i said ty for approving my fondness of tea and sorry for giving him grey hair (/lh)#i hope you're having a nice day! auper ultra mega life-squeezing hugs for rin jie 🫂 (don't suffocate /j)#ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest rin! 💠

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skyy-vibin · 2 years

Text

Pirate submas au

I have had time to gather my thoughts, kinda, so I will ramble under! I really like pirates, this post will probably be edited if I get more ideas

Content warning for: violence just like generally

Also the tag for this is pirate!submas

Edited: 4/21

Ok for starters, they’re both captains, and do duels! Most are for fun because they’re actually really good captains and keep things in ship shape! If someone tried to duel them they would have to go through both of them, but they could only get through one and wait until later to duel the other

I wanted to add elesa so she’s first mate!

I’ll be drawing them soon but they both have an eye patch, but only one of them lost an eye, they won’t tell you which one of them it was. Also they’re buff, have long hair and earrings because I said so they’re pirates

They both have brass knuckles, a cutlass sword and revolver, emmet is more skilled with the revolver while ingo is better with a sword. They’re equal with brass knuckles

They both say things like “Time to set sail!” Instead of train things but like, most of their sayings work for ships as well

————————————

Ingo missing:

So what would happen in this au is that they’re attacking another ship and Ingo falls into the ocean but the crew doesn’t notice and they have to retreat anyways. Emmet is the first one to notice ingo is missing and they believe he is dead.

But! He isn’t, he is found on an island which is pretty behind technology wise and he still gets amnesia tho but can fight really well. All he has with him is his sword and a lantern with a purple flame

Emmet on the other hand acts a lot more impulsively and more people try to challenge him because look at his mental state, he isn’t fit to fight nor lead, but emmet is verrry good at dueling so Emmet is a solo captain, he is refusing to listen to elesa so he is dealing with mostly everything! This doesn’t help matters. Emmet also gains an affinity for spiders, hard to remember to clean when there are so many things to do!

Ingo on the island just, chills there and tries to be nice :›

Should I make designs for him on the island?? Maybe we’ll see

They WILL reunite because I want them to and there WILL be tears. They will have a talk about what’s been going on and maybe Emmet might threaten some people if he doesn’t spot Ingo right away

—————————————

Do Pokémon exist? Maybe?? Maybe ingo finds pokemon on the island he’s on or something. But I made this in my head not thinking about of pokemon so uh, idk

Pokemon exist on the island ingo finds hisuian pokemon! He befriends them and emmet has a heart attack seeing a garadose for the first time

This a verrrry silly and verrrry specific to me but I wanted to share it before I just post about it with no warning :›

#submas #pirate!submas #Sora speaks #I haven’t watched our flag means death sadly #it’s not too long but you know

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

Frigid Heart Ch. 2

F!Reader x Bi-Han

Seems Bi-Han may be a rule breaker.

@miss-nori85 @whitelotusfighter @icy-spicy @crazytxgradstudent @d-taslim @bihansthot @legends-of-apex @lillikue @missroro

idk if I tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged, let me know if I missed you! And thanks for liking my awful writing. >w<

You had always been an early riser. And given how stressful yesterday had been, you were surprised you’d managed to get up so early. The sun hadn’t even come up yet. You imagined no one was awake at this hour… But that was foolish thinking. Of course someone was up. The Lin Kuei village had to be guarded against enemy attack, ready at a moment’s notice.

Sub-Zero was still asleep as you moved around his home quietly. You could hear his light snoring even from the kitchen. As long as you could hear that, you knew you were being silent enough. The stew from last night had been left on the hearth, steeping over night. You gave it a good stir and added some water before helping yourself to a small bowl of it. Once your bowl was empty, you promptly washed it out and put it away. Another pot, full with tea was in the hearth. You helped yourself to some of that as well. You cleaned the cup. After a quick trip to the outhouse it was time to start your day.

You’d learned where most things were the day before, but everything looked different in the dark. You carried a lantern with you as you moved about outside. The idea of running away still fluttered through your head, but Lily’s words followed close behind. There was nothing close by. You’d freeze out there. As much as your old masters would have preferred that you’d run, or simply kill yourself instead of being captured by the Lin Kuei, you didn’t much feel like freezing to death. Besides, so far, the Lin Kuei weren’t so bad. None of the other servants up at this hour seemed to notice you as you collected water from a nearby well. Assassins assigned night watch had, though. You could feel their eyes on you as you carried the bucket of water back to Sub-Zero’s house. You dumped the water into a large pot and went back to the well for more water. Once the pot was full, you used a small stick to catch the flame from your lantern and light the fire pit under the pot.

Sub-Zero had a lot of laundry. You wondered when he’d last had his clothing cleaned. Who had done it? You doubted he would have as you scrubbed at stubborn blood stains. You’d piled the clean clothes up in a basket before taking them inside to hang by the hearth. The heat would dry them faster. And they wouldn’t freeze. Eventually you’d run out of room to hang clothing and opted to stop for now. There were plenty of other things to do.

“You.”

You blinked and looked up from scrubbing the floor to see Sub-Zero looking down at you. You straighten up on your knees. “Yes, Master?”

“Where did you learn to fight?” He asked you. He’d been wondering ever since he’d saw you fend off some assassins.

You bowed your head, looking down at the floor. “Servants are taught to defend their masters in my clan— You stopped yourself. That was not your clan anymore. “In the Snow Ninja clan,” you corrected.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you. They taught their servants to fight? That was either foolish, or genius. He wasn’t sure which just yet. He supposed if the servant was undoubtedly loyal, it was smart… And you had been. You might still be. No matter, he had beaten you before with little effort, he would have no trouble doing it again. “Get up. Follow me,” he ordered and turned to walk away.

You rose and dusted your hanfu off before hurrying after him. The sun was high. He led you outside, close to the treeline, still very much out in the open. “Take your stance,” he ordered. Your brows bunched as you looked at him, your hands neatly folded into the flowing sleeves of your hanfu. But seeing his eyes take a sharp look, you slowly took your stance, a basic Mantis stance.

Sub-Zero took his own stance, much more confidently, an aggressive energy emanating from him. Fighting him last time didn’t go so well. You knew this one wasn’t going to end up much better.

He came at you first. You backed up, not bothering to hide the fear on your face as you dodged his first strike. Dodging only got you so far. It wasn’t long before his palm slammed into your chest.

The wind was knocked out of you. You backed away against a tree and held your chest as you tried to catch your breath. He was grinning at you. “You should have spent more time cleaning. You’re not going to survive a real fight,” he told you.

Your jaw clenched. You knew that. You knew you weren’t the best fighter. Your eyes shifted to the ground.

“Come on,” he said, taking a stance again. You watched him curiously. What was he doing? Was he trying to humiliate you in front of the entire village? You glanced over to see a few assassins had taken notice. Your face grew hot and you shook your head to Bi-Han.

“Ignore them.”

“It is not my place to fight you, Master,” You said sheepishly, rubbing at the center bone of your chest.

“I’ll let you know where your place is. Now ready yourself,” he told you. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. Why would he? He was your master.

Reluctantly you pushed yourself away from the tree and took your stance again. He came at you. You dodged. Dodged. Dodged. Then you decided to block. You’d managed to catch his fist and shove it away. You backed up. He recovered flawlessly and spun with a kick aimed for your head. You barely had time to react. You instinctively ducked, then striked.

Bi-Han caught your hand before it could reach his throat. His strong grip twisted your arm, causing you to cry out before he tossed you to the ground.

You grunted as you hit the frozen ground.

“Better,” he said. “But where is that furiosity I saw only a few days ago?”

You didn’t have an answer for him as you pushed yourself back up to your feet. The confidence you had before was when you had a chance of getting away alive. Here… There was no hope for escape. Even if you had managed to defeat him, there were at least a hundred more assassins that would come after you. You weren’t that good.

“Again,” Bi-Han said. You huffed in frustration. He was just too fast. He was too good. His brows rose expectantly as you stared at him. Defeated, you readied again. “Come at me,” he ordered, switching it up. Maybe you were better on the offensive.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him, as your eyes scanned over him, looking for any sign of weakness… Nothing jumped out at you. Either he had no weakness, or he was exceptional at hiding them. You shifted into an offensive stance, opposite his defensive one.

What came from you was a flurry of strikes, high and low. Bi-Han was calculating each move you made, dodging and blocking beautifully as you desperately tried to land a hit. Frustration was building within you again. But that was exactly what Bi-Han wanted. He wanted you angry. He wanted your full focus. He wanted you to fight him.

As experienced as Bi-Han was, it was no surprise that he was able to see every strike just before you made it. However, he didn’t expect you to suddenly switch your style. A delightful surprise. He caught your foot as you kicked it straight up for his chin.

Your eyes flinched as he held you like that, leg high in the air. He was mildly surprised at your flexibility and grinned, admiring the view. Seeing his smirk, your face grew hot. It wasn’t exactly new. Your old masters had given you similar looks… But it didn’t mean you liked it. Bi-Han’s brows knotted as he noticed a silent rage come to your face. You let your supporting leg give out from under you. You dropped. The sudden dead weight caused Bi-Han to jerk forward just as you caught yourself. Supporting yourself on your hands, you pushed your lower half up and drove your heel right into his chest.

A grunt escaped him from the impact and he dropped your leg. You then flung yourself up with a backflip. You were back on your feet and in stance again as you watched him.

Bi-Han chuckled as he straightened up and rubbed at his chest. A few strained coughs escaped him. He wasn’t sure what kind of move that was, but he liked it. He was sure you didn’t only fight with what you were taught. You improvised. A sign of a warrior. Perhaps in a past life you’d been just that. He nodded, more to himself. “Interesting,” he said as he stepped away.

You watched him cautiously as he walked to the closest assassin that had been watching. He held his hand out to the man. “Give me your blade.” The assassin looked confused, but obliged in unsheathing his sword and handing it over. Your caution grew as he turned and walked back towards you. Your jaw stiffened as your heart beat faster. He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? This was it. You’d hit him, now you were going to be killed!

You flinched away as he stepped in front of you, awaiting the inevitable…

Which didn’t come.

Confused, you peeked up to see him holding the sword out to you, offering it.

“Hey, don’t give her my sword!” the blade’s owner called over.

“Be quiet!” Bi-Han shouted, not looking back at the man.

“Are you sure that’s wise, Sub-Zero?” Tundra questioned, stepping forward.

“Wise? No. But it should prove interesting,” Bi-Han answered and gave the blade a little shake, as if to tell you to hurry up and take it.

Your hand shook as you reached for it, expecting him to slice your hand off just before your fingers could graze against the handle. But he didn’t. He let you take the blade and stepped back a few paces as a sword of his own grew from his hand. You watched in amazement. Was that… ice? Was that why he was called Sub-Zero?

“Have you ever wielded a blade?” Bi-Han asked.

You nodded, peeling your eyes away from his ice sword and to his face. Your grip tightened on your borrowed sword.

“Good,” was all he said before shifting into a new stance. You followed with your own.

Your swordsmanship paled in comparison to his. But with weapons now involved, you had more motivation to give him everything you had. Your blades clashed together as you two fought. For ice, his sword was incredibly durable. Your steel blade wasn’t leaving any marks on it as they collided over and over.

But you were quickly growing tired. You didn’t have the same level of endurance Bi-Han had. In one last burst of energy, you kicked for his arm. As his focus shifted to your foot and he twisted to catch it in his free hand, you sliced your blade up at his face.

A hiss escaped him as he backed away, free hand moving to cover his cheek. His fingers were painted in blood as he pulled his hand away. You froze, your eyes wide at the sight. You didn't mean to do that… did you?

The assassin known as Tundra had begun to move forward and grow his own blade. You dropped yours and quickly backed away from it in fear.

Bi-Han glanced up to see his brother moving for you. His ice blade crumbled to the ground as he lifted his clean hand up, signalling for Kuai to stop. Tundra obeyed, but his hand held a similar sword of ice as he watched you cautiously. His eyes peeled away from you when he heard his brother begin to laugh.

“You’re full of surprises,” Bi-han said, impressed with you, watching as you cowered. He used his sleeve to wipe the trickling blood from his cheek as a smug grin stayed plastered to his face.

“What is going on out here?!” Lily’s voice shouted over. The older woman stopped in her tracks when she saw Bi-Han’s face, cheek sliced open. Her eyes scanned the assassins and servants that had gathered. One servant pointed. Lily followed the gesture to see you, shaking, sword at your feet. “You!” Lily made to go after you, but was stopped by Bi-Han stepping in the way.

Lily’s brows knotted up at him. “How did she get a sword?!”

“I handed it to her,” Bi-Han simply said. “I wanted to see what she could do.”

“You handed her a weapon?!” Lily said in disbelief.

“I did.” Bi-Han turned and moved towards you. He stopped at the blade and picked it up with a bit of flourish. He smirked and flipped it, catching the blade and holding the handle out to you. He made sure that old nag, Lily, saw it.

Lily’s face grew red. She was absolutely flustered. The idea of you wielding a Lin Kuei sword… You, a regular servant, and not even one proven loyal. “The Grandmaster will hear of this,” she told him before turning to storm off back to the palace.

“Brother—” Kuai began, but was cut off with a glare from Bi-Han.

“Let her tell him. This is my servant, isn’t she? Mine to do with as I please?”

“Yes, but—”

Bi-Han grew his ice blade again and pointed it at you as he stepped back. “Again.”

Kuai sighed as he watched you hesitantly take a stance. What the hell was Bi-Han doing...

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #mk fanfic #mk fanfiction #sub-zero #bi-han #lin kuei #bi-han x reader #reader x bi-han #sub-zero x reader #reader x sub-zero #joe taslim #reader insert

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dourpeep · 3 years

Note

Okok I was actually going to stop spamming your inbox but I woke up and checked tumblr and the literal first post was your response and I have my own tag now aaaaaaa?

Yesss Xiao’s slight smile killed me nodnod but curse you Mihoyo, why couldn’t we have more than a split second before it cut to the lanterns?

I love your KazuXiaoReader… I don’t usually seek out poly stuff even though I’m probably poly (it’s complicated) but I stumbled across it while looking for Kazuha fanart and it gives me life

Oh? Height wars? Height wars? I’m 22 and around 150 cm, so I’m solidly in the “I’m an adult but people think I’m 13” club OTL

-insomniac anon who keeps almost forgetting to turn anon on, whoops

If u send in w/o anon dw because I won't even notice FHEOIFHE my brain is an abyss that holds onto information so well I forget about it nodnod

But ofc u have your own tag now! After all, can't have one of my dear named anons without a tag- that'd be a crime. Inexcusable. Absolutely unheard of.

I miss the Lantern Rite b/c the story was focused on Xiao- not only did he get his own separate character story, but he also got an event as well?? (': As he should. He deserves the recognition for all his hard work-

AS FOR KAZUXIAOREADER ngl I also struggle w/ it, I get the complicated thing. It's one of the reasons why I've been writing so much for them too because I noticed there's a lot of misconceptions that I've long since learned about! Not only that but a lot of the stuff I grew up learning about (w/ poly relationships) were more of love triangles or like two peeps like one person (which also is poly I think? Just a sub category where one person is dating two w/ both of them knowing and being good with it).

So writing a healthy relationship that features three people very much in love with each other is something that I personally haven't really seen so much in fanfic. So!! I figured it'd be good to write about it because of that :DD

I'm still learning though so if there's anyone who has experience/is in a poly relationship and wants to discuss them, please feel free to drop an ask :DDD

Uuuu

Hight wars. Ngl it's not really a height war because I like to think we're pretty chill about that on this blog nodnod. But...uuuuu the struggle. Idk how I'm going to survive as a hs teacher if everyone assumes I'm a student-

#anon asks #insomniac anon

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melkweed · 4 years

Text

Hi! I am Oli and I use she/her pronouns. This is my personal blog, so it is mainly about my interest, like horror movies and bands.

Rules and boundaries:

porn blogs plz dni

Also if ur a minor, I don’t care if you interact with the blog but please do not DM me or try to befriend me.

Side blogs:

Percy Jackson fandom blog... yeah

Art blog

Funny post

Me being a simp for nature

Directory and explanation of my tags (I will tag them all in the tags bc I can’t link them):

Art

Bands (and then under here you can find a specific band)

Fashion

Aes

Friends!!! (animals)

Mood (mainly text post)

Srs (political or controversial post)

Movies (Then you can find certain movies under here)

TV shows (same with movies and bands)

Made me laugh :)

Messages for others (just nice messages that you should totally check out)

Pride (gay pride)

Jams (music of course)

Quote

Horror my beloved (horror aesthetic tag)

Hot topic folks (mall goth aesthetic)

Punk girl shit (punk aes)

Emos never die (emo aes)

Spiderweb in castles (Goth kinda aes)

Jack o lantern heads (all things halloween)

Flashlight in the woods (idk how to explain this one but it is mainly abandoned buildings)

Going back to 505 (that sweet sweet 2014 Tumblr aesthetic that I can’t get rid of)

Duct tape converse (grunge aes)

Hyperfixation (all my current hyper fixations are tagged here. Please talk to me about them)

Bubbling beakers (evil scientist kind of vibe)

Underwater

Simp hours

Still thinking about Hellenism (Greek mythology)

Girls to the front (riot grrrl)

Runway fashion

Capital r romantic (romanticism of every day life)

Resources

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nachotrash · 3 years

Text

So.. Uh, yeah. I had another vivid dream

It was like, Genshin impact mixed with Haikyuu ig？

High school/college setting

Also tagging @elektrosonix

It was like a modern au? But you could still obvious see some details of Liyue (Lanterns, building style, stuff like that)

Campus was HUGE

There was a wholeass shopping mall in there

The outside is like, a cream-white color

its your typical y/n story written by some 10-year olds but it felt so fricking real

Anyways- Heres the timeline thing

Basically my character (i think it's me, i don't remember other names being called)

It was my first day of school and there was this new person bla bla bla

we were in the cafeteria and it was lunch

i sat with @catchmewiddershins for some reason and the new kid sat at the table where the boys of seijoh sat

(most of my seatmates were how i personificate my tumblr moots)

and for some reason a woman who gave off Meiko vibes (from poker face by frogtanii)

And yknow a whole drama started bec the new kid accidentally bumped into meiko

She yelled at them and started whining to Oikawa that they're targeting her.

Oikawa was done with her shit and ignored her. But he grabbed a ball (i think it was a basketball) and told the new kid that if they can throw the ball to the table next to ours hed cover things up for them

(If i remember correctly said table was one with shiratorizawas players)

except they threw it on our table

My first reflex was standing up and yelling "What the fuck?? Which asshole did this???"

They came up to me and apologized and said that oiks told him to do it

apparently my character knew oiks in a way and threatened him with blackmail if he didnt make something for the new kid to apologize

he agreed and we went on with our day

so we had some music project where we have to take a song/make our own song and fuse it together with a classmate's/make a remix with theirs, or create a parody with our own singing/composing

we got paired up w venti

except he was slighty more...mature?

idk how to explain lmao

he just didnt have the overly cheerful and loud voice lmao

(his voice is still godly)

we went over to my dorm

(we were allowed to design our own dorm and mine had a kind of 'treehouse' vibe)

and worked on it till the evening

(insert random timeskip because i cant remember that part anymore)

it was the second day

around 4am

(class starts at 9)

Oikawa randomly shows up to my door asking me to show him how to make strawberry jam

I remember one line really clearly;

Me, still half-asleep: ...you seriously had to wake me up for that?

Basically I was grumpy for the entire morning after that

I remember my character finding it really fun tho

(Another timeskip)

So after school me and venti decided to go to the park to write our project

Because yknow, its sunny n stuff

We finished really quickly and decided to go to the school recording studio

Ofc venti has to grab his lyre real quick

So we were walking through the halls and there was this poster for voting on the student council presidents or something

The contestants were oikawa, akaashi, Kuroo, zhongli, venti, Jean and ningguang

I just ignored it and we recorded n stuff

After recording venti came up to us and complimented us on our voice

And blah blah blah

After that venti just called us his little songbird except we were taller than him 😐

Few days later

We were pretty close with venti and oikawa would occasionally call us his 'princess'

My friends I don't even know how my brain came up with these

I'm currently cringing as I write

And ladi ladah

We were the only one who didn't vote for the student president or something lmao

And there was this dramatic scene where we had to choose between oikawa and venti and write a name down

Just as I was about to write it down

I woke up

I'm still mad at my brother for waking me up

Should I draw the campus sometime?

#nachos dreams

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la-galaxie-langblr · 3 years

Text

17 Questions for 17 People!

I've been tagged by three lovely people: @peachblossomstudy, @hyperchemblr and @theologei (I can't tag you for some reason 😔), thanks guys :D

Nicknames: Royny, Robyn the Racecar

Zodiac Sign: Virgo sun, idk the others

Height: 5' 8" / 173 ish cm

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff, the test can't make up it's mind

Last Thing I Googled: coronavirus northern ireland 😔

Song Stuck in My Head: Little Miss Perfect by Joriah Kwame

Number of Followers: 791

Amount of Sleep: 7 ish hours normally but the holidays have messed that up

Lucky Number: Don't have one but 27 has nice vibes

Dream Job: One where I'm fluent in multiple languages and get to share that joy with others

Wearing: Pyjamas

Favourite Song: At the moment it's The World Will Know from Newsies

Favourite Instrument: Piano

Aesthetic: That one post where it's like "You like both cottagecore and dark academia? By any chance are you gay?" because mood

Favourite Author: Alice Oseman

Favourite Animal Sounds: Kittens meowing

Random: You should try apple and beans :D (leaf gang I am not sorry)

Tags: @sammiestudiesstuff @pastelsandhazelnutcoffee @museeofmoon @orangestudy @studylikegeller @kindastudyingstuff @mal-studyblr @bulletnotestudies @keepquietandhustle @teagreenstudies @mirai227 @mohkomx @rivkahstudies @lantern-academia @dragonfliies @studywithzorah @sapphicstemstudies and anyone else who wants to do it! Sorry if you've already been tagged in this/done it, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to :)

#academicsunite #friends #tag game

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shyvioletcat · 4 years

Note

idk if you already have something for how theyre gonna make up in the firefighter au but "the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me" would be perfect im just sayin........

Me to me: Yeah only post one chapter a day... That’s an excellent plan. Also me to me: Nah you’ve already done the chapter. Just post it.

I don’t know what time zone you’re in by this is my second chapter today. So enjoy. Side note my original plan for last chapter was veeerrryyy different so you guys are very lucky I changed my plans. It was much much worse.

Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin’s head was pounding.

She wasn’t in her bed, but she wasn’t in an unfamiliar bed either. Lysandra was still asleep beside her and would probably feel just as bad as Aelin did once she woke up. The drunker she had got last night the more pissed she was at Rowan for meeting some woman at the bar. The bar that was just down from their apartments, the bar he could have met her at all week apparently if only they had talked about it a little more. But she she had been looking forward that big grand date. Sure it was just lunch but it was the romantic gesture of it.

But instead he’d decided to meet another girl. A friend. A very good friend from the looks of it. Elide had been the voice of reason the whole time, telling Aelin not to overreact, but Manon had been the opposite. The things she said weren’t said maliciously, only pragmatically offering the negative to Elide’s positive. They had been like a demon and an angel on Aelin’s shoulders all night. From the headache Aelin was feeling the demon had fed her already foul mood and won it seemed.Then Aelin hadn’t wanted to go back to her apartment so she’d come home with Lysandra instead.

With a groan Aelin rolled over and grabbed her phone. It was already quarter past 11, if she hadn’t cancelled her plans with Rowan she would be frantically getting ready right now for their date. That at least she remembered. Sending the text to Rowan when her confusion over who the dark haired woman had been had won over any other reasoning.

Why hadn’t he just told her?

Aelin scrolled through her notifications and saw the numerous missed calls from Rowan and a few texts. She checked her call log as saw that there was one outgoing call from her to him. Then her body stilled as she remembered something else she’d done and then covered her face with her hands.

Aelin pulled out her phone, everyone had gone somewhere else and she was minding their booth. She was going to do it. The thing that everyone had told her not to, even Manon. Manon thought there was definitely something more to the new woman than met the eye and even she had discouraged Aelin from doing this. She’d already sent the text cancelling lunch, but that wasn’t enough. She did’t want him to think she was done with him, it might just break her heart.

Stupid gorgeous Rowan, with his easy smiles and laughter with a girl that wasn’t her.

She tapped his name and put the phone to her ear. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Hello, Aelin. Are you alright?”

“Heeey Rowan,” Aelin had said. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good, it’s almost two in the morning so i was a little worried,” was Rowan’s reply.

Aelin had hummed at that. “So chivalrous.”

“I think you should hang up Aelin,” Rowan said.

Aelin shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I want to say something. I need to say something. I need you to know this. I told Manon you weren’t my snack. I was right of course, you’re not. But I don’t want you to be anyone else’s”

There was silence on both ends of the phone.

“You need to hang up, Aelin. Talk to me when you’re sober,” Rowan’s voice had been kind but firm.

“But —”

“No buts. I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll do the chivalrous thing and hang up for you.”

Then he hung up.

Aelin pulled the pillow she had been sleeping on from under her head and buried her face in it and let out a frustrated noise, not caring if Lysandra was awake or not. She evidently was when an arm that did not belong to Aelin thumped on top of the pillow. Aelin lifted it a little and peeked out to where her best friend lay.

“What did you do?” Lysandra asked.

“Something stupid, real stupid,” Aelin said. Aelin told Lysandra’s what she had done and when she finished her friend cackled.

“I’m sorry,” Lysandra said, still laughing a little. “It’s just, you two get so close then something just happens to get in the way. And you calling him and saying that… well at least he knows now.”

Aelin let out a heavy sigh. “What do I do now then?”

“We go to brunch, then once you no longer feel like there’s a herd of rhinos in your head we’ll work it out.”

~~~~~

After the events of the night before Rowan had decided it would be best to keep busy today and not in his apartment, where he would no doubt we waiting for sounds of Aelin’s return. After snatching a few hours of sleep he’d knocked on Aelin’s door in the mid morning but there had been no answer. He guessed she hadn’t come home last night or was out again.

Instead he wandered around the mall for a few hours, buying a couple of pairs of new jeans and a few shirts.Then he’d gone over and hung out at Fenrys’ and Connall’s house staying there for dinner but left soon after.

It was raining on the drive home, the sound soothing and monotonous on his wind shield. Aelin cancelling lunch had left a weight in Rowan’s chest, mainly because of his own stupidity. He had meant to tell Aelin about Lyria, he really had.

That was the one thought that kept running through his head, what had kept him awake even though he was bone tired. He’d been so caught up in Aelin that he hadn’t even thought about any other woman when he was with her. Aelin had bewitched him and he would gladly fall under her spell again and again.

Rowan pulled into the underground parking garage and drove straight into his parking spot. As he closed the door of his truck he remembered how Aelin had plastic wrapped it, making him half an hour late for work because he had to cut his way through. At the time Rowan had been fuming, so angry at Aelin for that silly prank. But now it only made him laugh.

Aelin had a wicked sense of humour and quicker wit. She was smart and beautiful, kind and compassionate. Rowan was hesitant to admit she was perfect but she came pretty godsdamned close. He hoped this slip up with Lyria hadn’t ruined his chances with her.

He was sure it hadn’t. Aelin had called him, wasted drunk, and he got the heavy hiny that she did want him.

Rowan reached the landing of his floor and made for his apartment. As he passed Aelin’s door he heard music playing and Rowan smiled. She was home, all Rowan needed was an excuse to drop by. He tried to think of one as he unlocked his door. He could maybe take over dessert? No, he’d have to go out and get something, there was nothing in his fridge or freezer. Dinner was out too. It was well after dinner time and he’d eaten already anyway. He didn’t have anything of hers to return. Rowan went into his bedroom, ripping the tags off his new clothes before dropping them in the basket.

Just then his entire apartment went dark and stayed that way. Power outage, pretty common in this building when it was raining. This was perfect, like for once in his life the gods were on his side. Well, maybe at least just one of them. He grabbed his phone from where it lay on the bed and flicked on the torch. Working as a firefighter Rowan was pretty well equipped when it came to emergency situations. We went to the cupboard where he stored emergency items, pulling out the torches and small portable lanterns before chucking them into the shopping bag from earlier.

Then Rowan went back into his bedroom and swapped his jeans for a pair of sweatpants, grabbed his keys and phone and left.

~~~~~

Aelin was lying on her couch messing around on her phone while music played in her apartment when the room had gone dark and the music cut out on the speaker and started playing on her phone. It was just another thing to go wrong. She’d gone to Rowan’s earlier with some ice cream but there’d been no answer so she’d come back here to mope. She’d been so stupid last night, calling him and telling him that. And she most likely had been wrong about the woman at the bar. When the lights had gone out she used the light on her phone to light the two candles that she had and laid back down on the couch, her phone on her chest. Maybe she should just call him.

Aelin picked up her phone again to do just that when there was a knock on the door. She she adjusted the robe she had slipped on over her gold nightgown, putting it on earlier to make herself feel a bit better. The rain had cooled her apartment down just enough that she was just a little too cold to wear it by itself. It was just by coincidence she didn’t have to run back into her room to grab it so she didn’t answer the door half naked.

But when she opened the door, Aelin had to admit to herself that she kind of wish she had left the robe off. Because it was Rowan Whitethorn at her door.

Aelin was a little shocked to see him, but not at all disappointed. Rowan smiled at her and she smiled right back, albeit a small one considering she was still embarrassed by her drunken phone call.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Aelin said back to him.

“I just wanted to check if you alright with the power out.” Rowan held up a bag of something Aelin couldn’t make out in the dim light.

“You’ve come to check on me?” Aelin said with a smile still playing on her lips.

“I’m very well prepared working in emergency services, I thought you might like some light in your home,” Rowan said as he took out a torch and turned it on.

Aelin didn’t say anything else, she just moved aside and to let Rowan into her apartment.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading guys! Stick with me, we’re almost there! Also if there’s an excessive amount of typos please forgive me, my eyes are super tired.

Tags: @tangledraysofsunshine // @nalgenewhore // @highqueenofelfhame // @galyxsy // @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @http-itsrebecca // @highladyofthesith // @aelinfire-bringer // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @sleep-and-books // @3am-reading // @average-girl-at-best // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @rowaelinforeverworld // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @tswaney17 // @mydarlingfireheart // @rowansfirebringer // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @vanilla28 // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @enquires-state-building // @im-not-rare-im-rarr // @your-high-lady // @mariamuses // @ttakeitbacknoww // @vi0let-femmes // @kindofawalkingpoem // @sleeping-and-books // @armixers-unite // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @princess-galathynius // @heroesofterrasen // @ladyofstoriesandmusic // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @empire-of-wildfire // @brittneym15 // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @mybbyfeyre // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @pilesofriles // @chemicha // @keshavomit // @sarahbringsoutmygay13 // @wifeofchrishemsworth // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @illyrian-velaris // @flowerspringsea // @whitethorn15 // @whiskeybusiness1776 // @notaddictedtoanything // @thereaderandfangirl // @mynewdreamwasyou // @tintinnabulary // @the-regal-warrior // @searchingforbellarke // @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @officialasianbitch //

#Rowan is a snack and we all know it

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void-tiger · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @curiosity-killed (thanks for the tag!!)

roses or daisies:

DAISIES!!! They’re so simple and cheery have just as many colors and look delicate but are actually really tenacious? Also, how charming is Day’s Eye (and asters in general having the habit of facing eachother if they’re not turned towards the light--I think I have a picture of dahlias doing this from last autumn--and like. Star Flower. Okay, I’ll shut up now xD )

classical or lofi:

...okay so I admit I had to look this one up. But easily some of my favorite tracks are those Hidden Ones that bands plop onto their albums to fill up leftover space, but are often basically just scrapped recording or practice sessions? The bloopers and their creative process, basically. Cut to me googling and youtubing it and finding hiphop lofi and...yeah! Definitely Lofi.

(Classical vs OST and Modern Classical (that’s composed to be a lot more cinematic) just...really puts me on edge. It’s too mathematical...to put it nicely.)

So...yeah. Slow beats and something that sounds experimental or like a jamming session? It’s soothing and kinda ideal for background noise.

sunrises or sunsets:

Sunset. One, never ever gonna be a “morning person”. Forget it. Two, sunsets often have more dramatic colors and still make the landscape glow and you get to see stars peeping out vs fading. Also, y’know. I’m actually awake to appreciate it vs groggy and legit physically ill.

honey or lemon:

Honey as a condiment. Lemon for sweets flavor. (Baklava’s probably the exception...then again I haven’t had that many honey-flavored sweets, I guess? But Lemon-Poppyseed?? Definitely one of my favorites,)

coffee or tea:

Coffee. I adore tea service aesthetics and will someday probably collect them (especially the really quirky or earthen or blownglass ones vs the froufrou european ones)...buuuut, I just haven’t really had A Good Cuppa Tea much at all. There was this spiced tea I’ve had in Jordan that was AMAZING and I do like greentea (with...A LOT of sugar or honey...) but. I’ve just never really had tea. My family’s coffee drinkers, so the smell of coffee is nostalgic. (And yes, I’m basic enough that I prefer flavored, sweetened creamers; and my coffee brewed or spiced with, like, cinnamon and nutmeg, too. Or as a mocha.)

...I also have a Bad Habit of abandoning my Herbal “Teas” with the bags either left steeping too long (I have gotten better at using a timer) or while waiting for them to cool. And while I’d just really love it for Uncle Iroh to make me tea (provided he doesn’t get on my case about wanting sugar and maybe cream), the Times and Temperatures are just so dang fussy!! I...don’t think I have the patience for that.

enemies to lovers or friends to lovers:

Friends to Lovers. I just...don’t Get It with the sexual tension~ that seems to be the driving force behind enemies to lovers...I guess?? (That, and unless it’s literally on a battlefield, HARD PASS. I’ve had people try to blow off my complaints about getting repeatedly tormented as “he liiiiiikes you~” bullshit to ever be comfortable with it as anything but Legit Two Sides Of A Battle/Political Conflict. Sorry.)

But, Friends to Lovers? That Bond. And then the ...Oh. The domesticity and trust and safety. Also it is RIPE for Idiots to Lovers mutual pining xD

(bonus points if both parties decide ahead of time, “hey. even if dating doesn’t work out I still value your friendship in my life, so no pressure about ‘ruining things,’“ And then, of course, it does work out and there was nothing to be anxious about, after all.)

rainy days or sunny days:

...cop out but, overcast days with Soft Sunlight and Cloudbreaks?? I do like a clear skies sunny day, but, my eyes are also so sensitive to light that it can be painful. Rainy days can be soothing...but the rain has to be A Certain Way. Too heavy and with too much wind behind it and it can get me anxious. (My childhood home had Every Rain is Severe Weather...with no place to shelter. It’s gonna take awhile before i can appreciate it like i’d want.)

jupiter or mars:

Jupiter. GIANT. DEADLY. MARBLE (that wants to eeeaaat meeeee...) Also Pluto, and the jovian moons.

aphrodite or athena:

Athena!! She’s an ace icon, aight?? And also strikes me as...very, very Tired with everyone’s bullshit. Also...all the greek gods are kinda assholes. So. Yeah. She ain’t perfect and her characterization’s at the mercy of whatever myth in question, but generally she strikes me as practical and sensible and having Mercy...sometimes. As much as that group is capable of it, anyway...

rome or greece:

...probably Ancient Rome as a “ancient culture to explore but a YIKES (but. so is ancient greece.)” But visiting IRL in the present? Greece.

sun or moon:

Moon. I appreciate what the sun does and I do like feeling sunlight and all that...but, I’m also a night person. And I can look at the moon without risk of blindness and admire its corona and that rainbow corona you can see just a bit further out if you know where and how to look. BUT. The moon easily loses out to a starfield, especially if the light pollution and humidity are both low enough that ya get to actually see the milky way’s galaxy arm. (The irony that the sun IS our local star does not elude me.)

1920s or 1990s:

...neither?? 90s only slightly win out ‘cause I’m a ‘93 Kid and the 90s and 00s had some incredible toys and cartoons. And, idk. I still like overall pants and shorts. Always have. While a flapper dress would be “oooh pretty! starlight beading! Now OFF. Back to regular clothes for ‘Sporing or Comfy Lounging.”

blizzard or thunderstorm:

Blizzard. Also. Have you considered...thundersnow??

(Admittedly? I’ve also never been through a snowstorm that threatened by health&safety. The same cannot be said about thunderstorms when nearly every one could or would spawn tornados and severe straightline winds that could knock down trees and powerlines and sometimes even damage homes. While living in a home with NO safe place to shelter. Not even an interior closet or bathroom. NOT. FUN.)

midnight memories or made in the am:

...what?? [googles] ...OH...they’re...albums. UH. Neither?? (I don’t listen to them...?)

sage green or vanilla white:

Sage green. It’s kinda a nostalgic color somehow? Also. Just not a fan of monochrome...at all. I see it? I instantly want it to be a backdrop. Negative space. For COLOR. (jewel tones for whites/light neutrals and browns; NEONS for blacks and dark greys. Preference for Jewel Tones over Neons...wait. What was the question again??? OH YEAH..uh... I do like vanilla icecream? With rainbow sprinkles. Or...paired with hot fruit pie or cobbler. Or cookies. Um...yeah I should prolly shutup now. xD )

folklore or lover:

...I don’t...understand??? But...I like Folkslore as in...folklore??? Fairytales, Legends, Myths... (also, so frikkin ace I’m just. not ever gonna pick “lover”)

croissant or macaroon:

...why would you do this to me. I make a beeline for croissants because...Soft Flaky Buttery Bread. And they are So Good as a savory sandwich sorta thing. Easily better than english muffins or crumpets, tho biscuits have a fighting chance. But LIKE. Soft breads. My weakness as a kid.

...but a good macaroon?? It is so light and crisp and TINY and like?? how does it taste like coffee??? and berries????? (Too bad they are So EXPENSIVE. While even cheap croissants are almost always Good.)

ballgowns or pantsuits:

I like the aesthetics of a ballgown. But never the pricetag, I wouldn’t wanna live in that thing for more than an hour, tops (and. so much damn work!!) and I’m stuck looking at them Defying (boob) Physics and just...dying a little inside. With my rare It Pretty Want Pretty wilting with it. But...it’s rare that pantsuits really...look like anything. (They also look uncomfortable and yet another Wardrobe Disaster and Do I HAVE To??? if I think about...actually wearing them. But, Legs Free No Tripping...I guess??)

hades or zeus:

I only wanna EVER meet Zeus if I get to castrate the bastard and lock ‘im up where he’ll NEVER get back out. Hades, tho...I’m WATCHING you, Bub. (Why yes, I agree with Demeter on this one.)

platonic love or sensual love:

Platonic. Cuddling and Kissing are technically Sensual but, y’know what? They ain’t exclusive to sexual or romantic loves (and I just. really do not want kissing at all. MAYBE a quick kiss on the forehead or fingertips but LIKE. That’s it. And it’s cute af for...literally ANY Love Type.)

light academia or cottagecore:

Honestly? A mix between the two. Cottagecore with my charming little home with its overgrown flowerbed of wildflowers (and asters! All the asters) and produce grown in large pots or hanging baskets...and inside the walls are covered with overflowing shelves of books and knicknacks and other Neat Things. Oh, and naturally a tea service (might not actually have tea in it...) and tons of pillows and blankets, and lamps and lanterns Everywhere for warm and soft (and colorful) light to read by while music plays softly in the background. And the home smells like something I just made for Supper or Snacks, or like a food-scented candle.

Aaaaaand tagging @mckinlily @headspacedad @aairachnid @synergetic-prose and whoever else wants to play! No obligation to play if tagged.

#tagged meme #tiger’s musings #long post

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