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headspace-hotel · 2 months

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Problems like climate change, where solving them requires millions of people to collectively work at hundreds of different solutions at once, are black holes for internal peacefulness because they give you a type of frustration where you alternately become bitter towards yourself or everyone around you. "If only I could work harder to fix the problem!" makes you exhausted, so you must become angry at others: "If only they cared about the problem!"

People who are already working on fixing climate change need to convince more people to work on it. And a popular thing is to share writings that describe how doomed we all are if climate change is not fixed, how terrible everything will be because of climate change, and how quickly all the treasures of our world are being lost.

There is a particular understanding of human behavior that is being accepted here without thinking about it hard enough. Popular news media shows headlines with terrible prophecies, written that way in hopes of getting the attention of otherwise disinterested people, who will then be "motivated" to fix climate change.

The trouble is that fear is no good for motivating thoughtful, patient, steady commitment to solving a problem. Fear is made to cause an organism to avoid things that might harm it. It creates a brief and explosive pulse of action where the organism's energy pours out as it instinctively, thoughtlessly reacts to escape the danger as fast as possible.

It's silly to blame people for avoiding thinking about climate change. The point of an organism responding to stressors is to avoid them. Oftentimes, the only tool people are presented with is personal choices about what products to buy, which inevitably is horribly frustrating and stressful, since a person will frequently be coerced by their situation into buying a certain product, and even if they don't they see others doing it all the time.

Relentless exposure to imminent threats that cannot be escaped causes Trauma, which severely impacts a person's ability to be resilient to stressors.

I think there is definitely a type of trauma associated with being constantly aware of the destruction of the environment and feeling helpless to do anything about it, especially since we as humans have a deep need for contact with other living things and aspects of the natural world, such as trees, water, flowers, and animals—a need that is often totally denied and treated as merely a Want or a hobby meant only for certain people who enjoy particular activities, like Hiking or Gardening.

We need to expand our minds on how this disconnection can hurt a human being. Imagine if a child's need to be loved by their caregivers, a person's need to be loved by their friends and family, was treated as a desire for indulgence or luxury, or a certain use of free time!

Yes, yes, one person has a condition that makes it hard to walk up hills, another doesn't like the bright sunshine, another is allergic to the grass or fungal components of the outdoor world, but WE ARE PART OF THE FAMILY OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH and WE EXIST IN SYMBIOSIS WITH THE ENVIRONMENT WHICH TAKES CARE OF US. Who showed you what beauty was, who taught you to feel peace and relief inside you in the form of a caressing breeze and rustle of leaves, who gave you awe and wonder at seeing the stars or the mountains? Where does every delicious food come from but the soil teeming with creatures? Isn't the most perfectly sweet berry grown from a plant, nurtured by the soil and pollinated by the bugs? Don't you feel delight at seeing a springy carpet of moss, a little mushroom, or a tiny bird? Think of all that the trees give us. Whose breath do you breathe? Whose body frames your home?

The writings of Indigenous writers such as the book by Mary Siisip Genuisz I am reading right now show me that the other life forms are our family. They take care of us and provide for us, and they would miss us if our species disappeared. Isn't that a powerful, healing fact? I think everybody is so enthusiastic about the book Braiding Sweetgrass because it is a worldview that those of us coming from the dominant colonizer culture are straight up ravenous, starving to death for.

Maybe, I think to myself, humans can experience a kind of trauma from being deprived a relationship with their Earth, just as they would experience trauma from being deprived relationships with other humans.

I really believe that it hurts us to be surrounded by concrete instead of soil, to see a majestic tree cut down on a whim without any justice possible, to see wild animals mostly in the form of mangled corpses on the roadside, to have poison sprayed everywhere to kill the insects that life depends on, to hear traffic and lawn mowers and weed whackers instead of birds and flowing water.

We KNOW that this is physically bad for our health, the stifling, polluted, and stressful environments of a civilization that doesn't know the ways of the plants, but I think it's a kind of moral injury too, right? To see a beautiful field turned into a housing development of ugly, big, expensive houses—no thought given to the butterflies and sparrows and quail of the field? To see a big old tree cut down, a pond full of frogs obliterated and turned into a drainage ditch beside a gas station? They aren't just things, they are lives, and while expansion and profit and progress are "necessary," a nice old field of wildflowers or a pond full of frogs are a different kind of necessary. I remember feeling this as a child without words for it—the sheer cruelty of a world that is totally without reverence for the other creatures.

"They own the property, they can cut down the tree" "They bought the land, they can do what they want with it" <but it can also be wrong, and many people know this on some level, even though our culture doesn't provide us with the framework.

Fear could never give people the motivation to fix climate change. Constant fear of what will happen in the future forces a person to protect themselves from the relentless stress by shutting it out entirely or developing apathy.

A fear based argument for fixing climate change either causes a worldview of nature with no bond of kinship at all, based on the physical and practical dependence on Nature as a "resource," or forces people to experience their kinship with Nature only through grief.

Fear tells us that we want to live—it does not tell us WHY to live. If a person tries to live on fear alone, they will eventually find the desire to live burdensome and painful in itself. I see this emerging on a society wide scale in the USA, feeding on influences from the Christian evangelicalism that sees the Earth as something already sullied and worthless, to be thrown away like a dirty tissue, and on the looming monolith of nuclear winter that gave our parents recurring nightmares as children.

If you go to r/collapse on Reddit (don't do that) you will see a whole community of people who cope with the threat of climate change by fantasizing about it, imagining it as a collective punishment for all humanity and a cathartic release from the present painful situation.

We cannot learn to live without seeing the reason for living. We cannot save the Earth without loving it. We cannot heal nature without caring for it. In order to collectively take action against climate change, we must be moved by something other than fear—and that something is love. Not just love of the outdoors as an activity, but love of the Earth as something that loves us.

The dominant Western culture cannot borrow Indigenous land stewardship techniques as though they are just one climate resilience strategy, without being also willing to change its dreadfully impoverished way of viewing human relationships with Nature.

What right have we to think, "Huh, maybe those guys were on to something with the multi-level polyculture systems and controlled burns" while still thinking humans are nothing but a disease on the Earth, and that Earth would be happy to be rid of us? The sustainable ways of using the land practiced traditionally by cultures who have lived in relationship with their ecosystems for many generations work because humans can exist in mutualistic symbiosis with the life forms around them. We care for them. They care for us.

I know for a fact that plants seek relationships with us, and I was taught by them to see how interconnected everything really is, and how I was made to be a caretaker of my ecosystem. I was, a few years ago, just as I describe above. Too scared and pessimistic about the future of nature to bother loving it, and because of this, I could not realize my niche in the ecosystem. It felt for many years like I could do nothing—i believed in climate change, but I felt hopeless, so I put it out of my mind. But when I began to cultivate a love and reverence for the sad, scraggly, beaten-down fragments of Nature around me, everything changed. So much became possible.

I am still learning and exploring, trying to open my mind to ideas totally different than the ones I knew growing up, paying close attention to every plant and learning its ways. And it stuns me to think—some people write about climate change without this process.

The author of the book "The Uninhabitable Earth" (a scary book about how doomed the Earth is because of climate change) says in the beginning of the book that he is not very much of a nature lover. You fool, love is our most powerful evolutionary adaptation!

#climate change #the ways of the plants #plants #nature #environment #symbiosis

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kamaluhkhan · 3 months

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anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner.

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank.

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it.

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations.

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined."

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition.

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes.

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were.

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze.

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

#Spotify #when i was younger i didn't think people would want to read all the stories i'd make up in my head about this series #so im glad the percy jackson renaissance is here #there's something so healing about writing + sharing this blurb even if i'm still nervous #might fuck around and write another part because i have so many ideas of where this could go #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo #saf writes #riordanverse

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lecsainz · 3 months

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Can u do any kind of luke imagine with maybe a daughter of hades:p

˒ ⌕ DID YOU EAT, TODAY?

parings: luke castellan x hades!reader

an: this was my first piece that my sister liked? I'm sooo happy because she's picky, and I usually have to beg her to read anything I write. yes, I know it's pathetic, but I usually don't think my writing is good, and I don't think you guys will like it. I have a bit of a validation-seeking complex (mirroball girl here 😭

summary: where, after 18 years of surviving alone, you finally arrive at camp half-blood, discovering you're a child of hades. adimist it all, a hermes' boy might find himself perhaps falling for you.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

The camp was bustling with activity, but for you, the chaos of your newfound identity as a demigod and a daughter of Hades was still settling in. The moment you were claimed upon entering the camp, it felt like your entire world had shifted. As the campers dispersed for their activities, you sought solace by the lake, needing a moment to process the overwhelming revelations.

Luke, having noticed your absence from the group, made his way to the lake with a small cupcake in hand. Blueberry, your favorite. He approached cautiously, recognizing the turmoil on your face. The daughter of Hades, a complex puzzle of emotions and powers.

"Hey there," Luke greeted, sitting down beside you. "Did you eat today?"

You looked up, your eyes still reflecting the confusion and vulnerability that came with the newfound knowledge of your divine parentage. The mere question, though simple, struck a chord within you, resonating with a sense of care that you hadn't expected.

"I... I didn't really feel like it." you admitted, your voice betraying the uncertainty.

Without another word, Luke handed you the cupcake, and the corners of his lips lifted into a reassuring smile. "Well, you should. It's blueberry – your favorite, right?"

Surprised, you glanced at the cupcake, realizing that somehow, amidst all the chaos, Luke had remembered your preference. A small, genuine smile formed on your face as you took the cupcake. "Thank you."

Taking the cupcake, you managed a small smile. The gesture was simple, yet it carried an unspoken understanding. You hesitated for a moment before taking a bite, savoring the sweetness that contrasted with the bitter reality you were grappling with.

Luke watched you quietly, and when you finally met his gaze, he reached over to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. It was a gentle touch, one that conveyed more comfort than words ever could.

"You know, being a demigod is tough, especially in the beginning," he began, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We're a family here, weird as it may be."

You chuckled, feeling a hint of warmth amidst the emotional storm. "Yeah, a family of demigods with divine parent issues."

Luke chuckled with you. "Exactly. And you've got powers from the Underworld, which is pretty cool if you ask me."

Your laughter echoed by the lake, and Luke couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within him. He looked at you, your smile contagious, and a goofy grin formed on his face. In less than 48 hours, everything you did seemed to become his favorite thing.

"See? I knew blueberry cupcakes were the way to go," Luke teased, nudging you playfully.

As you enjoyed the cupcake, the night air became a canvas for the unspoken. Luke's gaze lingered on you, studying your features. The flicker of vulnerability in your eyes and the subtle playfulness of your smile sparked something in him. His mind wrestled with conflicting thoughts. The prophecy and his allegiance to Kronos felt like a weight on his shoulders, yet the simple act of being there for you seemed to defy the inevitable.

Luke couldn't help but think he was treading on dangerous ground. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, there were things worth fighting for beyond the plans of gods and Titans.

Caught in his own internal struggle, he locked eyes with you. His expression shifted between uncertainty and an undeniable connection that was forming against all odds.

And then, as if a realization hit him, you blushed, looking away. The daughter of Hades, powerful and enchanting, now bashful under his gaze. A small smile played on Luke's lips, acknowledging the unexpected turn of emotions.

"Stop," you said, your voice a blend of amusement and a blush that colored your cheeks.

"I can't help it," Luke responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He made no effort to hide his amusement, which only intensified your embarrassment.

A playful slap on his arm was your immediate response. "Seriously, cut it out."

Luke chuckled, the sound resonating in the tranquil night. "Alright, alright. I'll behave... for now."

"Hey, Castellan! We're heading out. You coming?" The moment was interrupted by a group of Hermes cabin members calling for Luke. As he got up to join them, he glanced back at you. "You coming?"

He extended his hand towards you, a gesture so simple yet filled with unspoken invitation. With a slight hesitance, you placed your hand in his, and together you walked away, fingers intertwined.

The children of Hermes exchanged smirks, whispering amongst themselves as they watched Luke and you leave the lakeside. One of them winked at Luke, teasingly remarking, "Looks like someone's got a soft spot."

Luke shot back with a grin, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He glanced at you, a sly smile playing on your lips radiating a warmth that ignited a turmoil within him. In that moment, a realization struck Luke like a lightning bolt – perhaps you were the unforeseen obstacle in Kronos' grand plan. As he stared at you, the idea that his growing feelings for you could complicate the titan's scheme loomed over him, and for the first time, Luke Castellan felt the weight of a dilemma he hadn't anticipated.

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melodygatesauthor · 7 months

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The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open.

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal.

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place.

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you.

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right.

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more.

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold.

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm.

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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helpallthenamesaretakenblog · 4 months

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Ok but can we acknowledge how well written the last olympian is???

Rachel and percy just liking each other for an escape from their realities and how real that was. Beckendorf dying. The plot twist of silena being the traitor later on which no one could guess. Percy learning the prophecy. Percy pushing annabeth away and annabeth yelling at him for running away from his feelings. The absolute angst that’s building up in percy’s mind from the thought of him dying and leading a WAR. NICO DI ANGELO. Annabeth as percy’s mortal anchor. The fact that to kill him, you need to STAB HIM IN THE BACK. The building tension. LUKE’S BACKSTORY. “WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY CITY??” Percy finally standing up and leading the army (we love zero to hero character development) The way dark percy is slowly being hinted with percy having a maniacal laugh while fighting and imagining himself with red eyes. THE AMAZING FIGHT SCENES. Annabeth getting stabbed. “DON’T TOUCH HER!!” Percy collapsing a brige and screaming when he couldn’t find any bodies. THE ANGST OF SILENA’s DEATH.The way he was just pushed past some camper like “where’s annabeth?” THE WHOLE BALCONY SCENE. Rachel coming back and suddenly the tension comes back again. NICO DI ANGELO. Annabeth being so angsty. THE FINAL FIGHT SCENE. Annabeth being the architect of olympus <3 Percy looking at annabeth while being offered immortality and remembers all the people who died since achilles told him to “never lose sight of what makes him mortal” “THINGS CAN ALWAYS GET BETTER” THE MOST SATISFYING ENDING TO BOOK SERIES EVER

No one does it like Rick Riordan

#percy jackson #rick riordan #percabeth #pjo #annabeth chase #The last olympian #heroes of olympus #pjo fandom #pjo tv series #pjo tv show #RICK ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS #writing #books #the lightning theif #percy jackson and the olympians

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inazuman · 11 months

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tools of destiny

☁ blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁ reader is afab. yandere, dubcon, kidnapping, blade calls reader some derogatory language but there's praise too, bondage (belt), whipping, breeding, oral sex (f receiving), cumplay, stockholm syndrome ☁ A/N: basically it's yandere dubcon kidnapper blade with reader who tries to fight back only to give in to the pleasure. also cherubimbunny gave me this fic idea hehe ily mwah ☁ 6k words ☁ @trailblazernet

Blade’s loyalty to the Stellaron Hunters, to Destiny’s Slave, knows no bounds.

Let me out! Please!

He follows every order with little question, giving Elio his complete faith.

I-I haven’t done anything bad, I swear!

He abandoned his body to become a weapon. He has murdered, deceived, and taken from others in the name of destiny.

Where am I? Where are you taking me?

His actions with you are no exception.

“Please. Please let me go. What do you want from me?!”

You speak as soon as you hear the door open, your blindfold seeped with tears that streak down your cheeks. The person says nothing, and the door clicks close. Heavy footsteps track towards you, warm hands untying the cloth from around your head even as you try to shuffle back on the floor, their expensive-smelling cologne filling the air.

You blink once, twice, looking around you. You’re in a… a bedroom? Your breath is taken by the luxury surrounding you, a full king size bed on high stilts sits right behind you.

You stare at the man that captured you, and he can’t help but stare back at your eyes, the way they’re full of anger and hurt.

“What did you bring me here for? I haven’t done anything wrong, haven’t hurt anyone. Why am I here?”

He simply observes you, the way you move from demure to strong to pitiful, as if one of those will finally grant you an answer from him.

After a beat of silence, two, he finally speaks.

“I won’t lie to you. You are a prisoner here.” He keeps his head tilted down, but you swear you think he almost looks pleased witha slight smile on his face. “But we mean you no discomfort, for the most part. If you choose, you can live comfortably. We will take care of you, feed you well, give you anything you’d like to keep you entertained. You may even want to join our side. Or,” he shifts his weight off the wall, taking one step forward, and you immediately feel fear enrapture you, like the walls are closing in around you. You shuffle back, retreating until your shoulders hit the footboard of the bed.

Like a hunted rabbit, he can’t help but think. Something about a scared, pretty girl has him running his thumb against his jaw, though there’d be time for that later.

“Or,” he continues, “you can make this difficult. You can try to escape, but you won’t be able to. And I will tie you up, break your legs, whatever is necessary to ensure the arrival of the destiny that Elio chooses.”

“Destiny?! What destiny could I be involved in?”

With a flick of his wrist, his sword materializes in his hand. You immediately regret your tone. The bed shifts behind you as you press your back against it, but faster than you can blink, the edge of the sword slices against your ties from the side. You roll your wrists free, the chafing evident on your skin.

He doesn’t care to answer, pressing a button on the wall, door sliding open, but he hesitates. He turns his jaw back to you, as if lost in thought and eyeing you up all at once.

“A destiny greater than both you and I,” the words are voiced carefully, like a prophecy, but the moment is gone in an instant. “Rest up, girl. Know that even if you make it off this floor, there is nowhere to run. We are in the Stellaron Hunters’ headquarters, in the middle of space.”

He leaves swiftly, and you make a note of the way two different locks sound as the door shuts – one mechanical, one electronic.

You look around to find that the man is correct. There is a table with a screen that acts as both a vanity and a computer, expertly hacked so that you can play games and watch shows, but can’t communicate with the outside world. The bathroom is just as hauntingly beautiful, with both a bathtub and a shower, even the sink counter is littered with various, unopened products.

All the added ways that they’ve evidently made the bedroom as comfortable as possible have ironically made the situation all the more fearful. How long do they plan to keep you here? What do they need from you? What does your comfort matter to them?

But you’re exhausted. You only manage to shower and brush your teeth before crashing on the bed.

It’s unfortunate that it’s Blade’s job to care about your comfortability, but in Elio’s words, ‘the less resistance she has to you, the better’.

He takes the painstaking, daily task of bringing you your three meals at set times, leaving them on your desk like some kind of butler or room service (that’s his limit. Someone else can take them out when you’re done). All so you can get used to him, his presence, grow some sort of sick attachment to him.

Stockholm syndrome is what Kafka called it.

“Human emotions are fickle, you see,” Kafka trails her hand over his shoulder, playing the little game she plays to keep someone entranced on her. But Blade has seen it far too many times to have any reaction. “They aren’t… something that can be mapped with 100% guarantee in destiny’s path. Though, her acceptance and willingness in this situation isn’t necessary, it would make things easier.”

He waves the explanation off, retiring to his room to handle the second part of his job with you. The dreams.

He plants them in your mind with his abilities as mere suggestions. His hand grazing over your thighs, between them, up your body, to your breasts… His breath hot against your skin, his hard member pressed up against you…

You jolt awake from them, covered in cold sweat.

It’s all in preparation for the day Kafka tells you the truth of your arrival.

“You are to create a powerful warrior, the heir of Destiny.”

Kafka says it so gently during your weekly meeting that you step back, shocked and enraged all at once.

“Excuse me?” you almost spit the words at her. “How dare you-”

“Ah, ah.” She taps the gun strapped to her side once. “We’ve been real nice to you, sweetheart. I’d hate to see things get messy between us, wouldn’t you?”

You shut up immediately, realizing the situation. You’ve been brought here and treated well, not because they care, or because they even like you, but for this purpose alone.

“You get it now, don’t you?” she whispers in your ear, playing with your hair, both intimate and threatening all at once. “There are things we can do to make you more… placid in the situation. But something consensual would make it more pleasant for the both of you. We’ve even added some items in your bathroom, so that you can feel nice and fresh before and after. What do you say, hm? You wanna play with some new things?”

You take the week Kafka gives you to prepare. But what you prepare is not just your body or your looks. The nail files you were given have been sharpened steadily, forks and knives from your meals tucked under different parts of your mattress and pillows. Any attempt to search up how to prevent a pregnancy or anything even related to it gives a blank page. Whoever is their tech person is damn good.

On the day of, Kafka raps her knuckles three times over your door. You know it’s her, because Blade never knocks. Her eyes rack up and down your body, an eyebrow arched.

“Blade will be here any minute. Are you not going to get dressed?”

She doesn’t wait for your answer, moving straight towards your closet with some girl best friend mentality instead of your captor. You play with the hem of your pajama shirt, your fingers jittering against the fabric as she hums quietly, hangars clicking against each other with every nervous second, only stopping with a satisfied mhmm!

“Here you go, sweetheart.” She pulls out a raunchy, wine red lingerie set with a matching sheer gown, almost like the colors on Blade’s usual outfit.

“It doesn’t really matter what I wear, does it?”

You shouldn’t question her, shouldn’t comment, but the overthinking runs through your mind so heavily that words full or resentment spew out before you can stop yourself. What happens after you’ve had the baby? Is that it? Is your purpose finished?

Kafka smiles sweetly at you. “Of course it matters. You and Blade are Destiny’s match. In some cultures, a pre-organized match is how all marriages are made. As long as you cooperate, this could be a pleasurable experience! I’ve heard Blade’s quite talented in bed.” She acts like the conversation is nothing, holding the lingerie up to your body to see if the color matches your skin tone.

As long as you cooperate.

“A-After…”

Kafka laughs, so sweetly you might even feel like you were friends. “Oh, darling! As long as everything goes smoothly, there are no plans to get rid of you just yet. Does that help that pretty little head of yours?” She taps your forehead before pressing the hangars against your hands, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.

“Good luck, darling! I just know you look beautiful.”

Despite your preparations, nothing prepares you for Blade’s presence.

His heavy boots strike the floor with every step into your room before he sits at the foot of your bed to remove them with a thump, like he belongs here. He’s closer than he’s ever been to you since the day he grabbed you, so much so that you can smell his aftershave.

When he glances at you past his fringe, you tuck the blanket closer over you. It’s cute, he thinks. Even after seeing him day after day, you’re still the scared bunny he captured. He chuckles low in his throat. He approaches you like a predator seeking its prey, his arms stretched out. As if the open gesture makes him any less dangerous, as if you feel any less hunted. He wants to tell you that there’s nothing to be scared of, but you’d both know he’s lying.

“I can make this good for you,” he opts for instead, kneeling over you on the bed. You can’t help but notice how he towers over you, how tight his clothing fits over his body. He watches carefully at the way your fingers twitch in response.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you show me what’s under that blanket?” He carefully brings himself over, tugging the blanket between your hands, right in front of your chest. You let him, the duvet falling away, his eyes instantly marveling over your figure.

He wolf-whistles low, the sheer gown doing nothing to hide the pretty lingerie that hugs your body underneath.

“You got all prettied up for me, doll?” He wants to touch you, wants to tear it off of you like he was promised he’d be able to, but a glint of something holds him back. Because when he looks right into your eyes –

They burn with aggression. Even behind the fear and the innocence, he can feel the way you’re just about to fight or flight.

“Why don’t you let me in, doll? Let me touch you, okay?” He removes his shirt as he talks, unbuttoning it and sliding it off to reveal strong muscle and scarred tissue, your eyes wide at his figure.

You’re hesitant, not even sure why he’s asking, but you nod anyways. He starts with placing his hand on your calf, moving it up to your knee, reminding you of the dreams you’ve had night after night of him exactly like this, the touch both light and electric. He runs his other hand over your jaw, thumb over your cheek, even as you flinch slightly away.

“’m gonna kiss you,” the warning is a courtesy. He needs to speed things up, pressing a kiss to your forehead to test the waters, before pressing another one to your lips.

It’s soft, at first, his lips pillowy against your own. He deepens it, resting the back of your head onto the pillow, pressing your body into the mattress. His tongue swipes behind your teeth.

You wait, like a bird about to swoop down. Let your legs wrap around his torso, bringing him close, a soft groan escapes him from your initiative, eagerly seeking you back as his hands work their way up your thighs.

And then you strike, your heartbeat sharp in your chest, reaching behind you to grab a sharp nail file and hauling it towards his neck-

You hear it clatter to the ground before you can even process, wrist pinned to the mattress, squeezed borderline painfully between his thumb and forefinger. He acts like it’s nothing, continues wrapping his tongue around yours like you hadn’t just attempted to murder him. The only gesture he even recognizes what you did is the slight smile you feel against your lips as he pulls you in for another kiss.

So you fight, you aim between his legs as you kick and thrash, only for his other hand to wrap a hand around both your ankles clasped together. With both his hands occupied, you grab at the inside of one of your pillows to stab a fork into his side, but he’s faster, always faster, using his calf to pin your legs down as he slams your other wrist down on either side of you. His hands cover over yours like a lover, he comes right up against your ear to whisper –

“Tsk, tsk. Bad girl.”

The nail files you sharpened, the forks and knives you kept from your meals. All of it becomes futile, useless, against Blade. Every attempt you make to even scrape him between kisses are effectively knocked away, as if they never happened. He presses your hips down heavier into the bed.

“My, my. Someone’s been naughty when preparing for my arrival, haven’t you?”

“H-How can you go through with this?!” You spew out in frustration at his unfazed manner. “You kidnap, murder, manipulate others just for the sake of destiny? Some abstract cause that you don’t even see the full picture of?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it, grabbing at your neck and squeezing, your hands flying down to his wrists immediately to resist.

“Maybe I enjoy it. Hm? You ever thought about that? Sure, if you’ve lived as long as I have, the killing starts to feel more like a chore. But taking a scared little girl and forcing her into bed with me? Well,” he growls in your ear, “maybe I get off on it.”

He releases you, letting you cough and taking in big gulps of air. He licks a stripe up your neck and over your lips, lets his teeth nibble against your jawline as he grips the back of your neck and manoeuvres your robe off to reveal your stomach, large hands splaying over the expanse of exposed skin.

“Besides, that’s not a nice way to treat someone doing you a favor, is it?” He grips you by the jaw, forcing you to look straight into his glowing eyes.

“I could just cum inside of you and be done with this,” he speaks through gritted teeth, his gaze following down the line of your body and back up. “So, you get one more chance to be good. No more tryna kill me, you’re just gonna lie back and let me take care of you. Answer me back, doll.”

You nod as much as you can with your cheeks mushed by his fingers.

“No more misbehavior. I’m being nice, darlin’. You get that? I’m preparing you.” He presses the length of his body against yours, your eyes widening as you feel his large member pressing against the seam of his pants, right against your core.

He smirks at your reaction. “Yeah. You get it now, don’t you, baby?” His teeth scrape against your earlobe as his breath ghosts over your ear. “If I made you take me without preparing you, you wouldn’t walk for days.”

You want to roll your eyes, to quip back, to tell him to fuck off, but then he’s stripping you of your bra, his mouth closing over your nipple, long fingers trailing over your thighs and towards your clothed core.

And all you can think, is that it’s better than the dreams you’ve had of him.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. How he licks at the underside of your breast, leaving bite marks at your cleavage, sucking at your nipples. How he teases his fingertips over your clothed core until the fabric sticks to you, nail trailing around your clit, thumb flitting just over and under the edge of your panties.

The way you can’t help but arch your back into him is telling at best and pathetic at worst.

“Already weak for me?” he chuckles darkly, pulling down your panties with a low whistle at the mess you’ve made.

“Has it been a while, princess?” he kisses your hip, lets his tongue trail over just so you can imagine what it’d be like to have his mouth on you. He knows how long they’ve kept you here under close watch, and yet he has the nerve to comment on it.

But he’s right, and you realize just how right he is when he drags his fingertips through your folds.

And it’s in this hazy, lust-filled moment that you figure if you’re going to be bred like an animal in this room to create the heir of destiny, you might as well get something out of it, willingly receive the pleasure you’re given, especially as his breath catches over your core, his nose digging into your inner thigh.

He watches as your shoulders go lax and your thighs tense. “Mm, that’s right, baby. You just relax and let me take care of you, hmm?” He laps at your inner thigh, coating it with saliva like he’s claiming you, you might think you find it almost disgusting if he didn’t match it with a long lick right at your core, from your entrance all the way up your clit.

Your response is immediate, your nails digging into the bedsheets below you as he chuckles, his hair and fringe tickling your thighs as he wraps his arms around each of your legs, holding you steady as he trails his tongue in a zig-zag motion over your core. He teases you every time, getting slower before he laps over your clit and then starting again from the bottom, until your bottom lip wobbles and your hips buck into his face, unable to contain how badly you want his tongue.

When you look down and make eye contact with him, you see his crazed eyes darkened. You almost feel scared to ask, scared to make requests when his tongue purposefully caves into your core.

He chuckles as he watches you weigh the options in your fogged mind, whether your desperation is worth risking the sight of him materializing his cracked sword. He teases you again, teeth grazing against the edge of your folds, circling wide around your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, spiralling towards the centre only to purposefully avoid it again. Your chest rises, heartbeat loud in your chest, unable to contain the whine that escapes you.

“I-,” you try despite your fear, only for the words to be choked in your throat as he laps another circle around your clit.

“Got something to say, little one?” You can feel his lips moving over your core as he speaks, tonguing your entrance.

“W-Wanna- please-”

“Mm, can’t decide if I like you better when you’re begging or when you’re trying to kill me.”

Oh, so he’s got jokes. You almost want to smack him as he laughs, but he interrupts you.

“Beg for it more.”

He slides a finger into you, so much longer and thicker than your own, as you babble something that sounds like “please, Blade, please, please”. He finally grazes his tongue over your clit once, twice, your back arching as he takes the opportunity to slide another finger into you.

“You gonna beg the same way for my cock, darling?” He crooks his fingers towards himself to press against your spongy walls, your wetness leaking down and coating his hand. “Answer me when I ask a question, doll. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Yes, fuck, Blade- gonna- gonna beg for your cock, ah, please, I wanna-” he decides that’s as good as it gets, bringing your clit between his lips and suckling over. Your hands grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, your hips bucking into his face uncontrollably as the pleasure builds.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Go ahead and cum for me,” his words are muffled against your heat, his shoulders keeping your thighs open even as they twitch and squeeze around him. He laps at your clit between suckles, fingers hitting your g-spot with every slide in, and you cum hard over his face and around his fingers. Your slick coats his tongue, your walls shaking with each wave, mouth open in a silent scream, mind fogged and empty except for the feel of him and the warm muscle of his tongue as he works you through it. It feels endless as your clit trembles in his mouth, your heartbeat loud and your breath harsh.

You come down with your chest still heaving, his tongue slowing down over you until you instinctively try to move away from him because of the sensitivity. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin over his face.

“Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now,” he kneels back onto the bed, expanse of his chest visible, spreading your legs wide to fit his body between them. “We came to an agreement earlier, didn’t we? What did we say you’d do?”

“B-Beg for your cock…” you whisper it softly, demure even though he just had you thrashing over his face.

“Mhmm. So tell me, darling, what do you want?”

“W-Want you… want your cock-”

“More.”

“I- Blade,” you whine, “I want your cock inside of me. Is- is that what you-”

“Yeah, baby. I want you wet and sticky between your legs, begging for my cock despite the circumstances. That’s exactly what I want.”

He watches you, you let him watch you, as he unbuckles his belt with a click, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. You watch as his eyes skate down your form, his chest puffed and breathing deep, his pants pulling down to reveal more of his muscled torso and Adonis belt.

He’s stunning, you’re sure anyone would think so, there’s a small, self-sacrificial part of you that thinks you might even be lucky that in these unfortunate circumstances, such a beautiful man is the one taking you. But in his mind, nothing beats the way your eyes widen as his underwear falls to the floor to reveal his cock, both thick and long, the mushroom tip enlarged. You’re not sure if it’s fear or arousal that seeps into your veins as you back yourself up on the bed with your elbows, only for him to grab you by your thighs and drag you back towards him.

“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re running, hm?” He pulls your legs up so his large hands can wrap around the back of each of your thighs, pushing your knees wide open and towards your chest.

Only when his hair tickles your ear, his breath ghosting over your neck, do you begin to reach under the mattress and towards the headboard. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s futile, that it’s a bad idea. He had been so nice to you, hadn’t he? Is this self-survival, or self-destruction?

You can almost pretend it’s in ecstasy, in anticipation of having his cock inside of you, as you draw a knife out and whisk it towards him.

The slap of his palm against your wrist happens so fast you don’t even process it until you hear him tsk, his fingers squeezing you so tightly until your hand opens up, metal clanging onto the floor as you let out a sob.

“And I had been so nice to you.” His voice drops an octave, a condescending, disappointed look is on his face as he stands back up, the kind that makes you want to bite back at him. The words never make it out, your mouth dry as he moves faster than you can blink to pick up his belt, the loud whip of it slapping against his palm making you flinch.

It’s in this moment that you remember what they called him, what Kafka called him. The greatest weapon destiny has ever forged.

“Blade, wait-” You try to use what little empathy he might’ve had for you before you had gone and done what you did, but it’s no use.

He laughs sadistically. “Wait?” He slaps the belt against the back of your thigh, your hands not moving in time to protect yourself, instead you wince as your fingertips tap against the now-welted skin.

“I did everything right, didn’t I? Talked to you, brought you your meals, ate you out until you came over my mouth.” Another whip rings out in the room against the back of your other thigh, making you yelp in agony.

“And yet, how do you repay me, hm?” He climbs over you, lightning fast, one hand gripping your chin and cheeks, mushing them, forcing you to look at him.

“Stupid girl,” he spits the words in your face. “You should’ve been grateful that I had been so kind.”

He whips you a third time over your core as you cry out, his face uncaring as tears start to drip down your cheeks. He grabs both of your wrists with one hand, looping his belt around them and between the intricate woodwork of the headboard, pulling until the leather is tight and clasping it together.

“I’ll tell you what, girl,” his hand wraps around your neck, not clasping down but the threat is there all the same, his thumb caressing over. “It was a good effort you made, I’ll give you that. But I could detect your micromovements of aggression from a mile away.” He squeezes your neck a little harder, listening to you gasp and choke under him. “You could never have won against me.”

After weeks of being patient, he finally, finally, gets to sink his cock into you. He jerks in his own hand at the thought, the blunt tip pressing against your entrance, surprised to find you even more slick than before. His hands resume where they were before, grabbing where your skin has turned raw from his abuse.

“Now, you’re gonna lie there all pretty and pliant like you’re meant to, and I’m gonna do my job. And you’re gonna thank me for fucking you slow, even though you don’t deserve it, because I wanna take in every inch of this pussy like I was promised.”

He bullies the first inch his cock into you with a satisfied smile, watches with greedy, perverted eyes as your slick already starts to coat and drip down his cock. He feels the way the ring of muscle restricts as he slides the second inch in.

“So fucking tight,” he groans. Your walls clamp down around him, almost like they’re stopping him from pushing in anymore, but he forces himself in anyways. You try to push him off with your legs, try to tell him that you’re “so full, so much,” but all he does is huff with a smile.

He feels his tip hit against your cervix, his balls slapping against your ass, and lets out a satisfied sigh. You think he’s done until his arms tense again, pressing in deeper again, an extra few centimetres shifting into you, even as you cry and sob that it’s too much and too big, until you swear your cervix opens up a little just for him to fill that space.

He’s so thick and hard inside you that you feel like you can’t breathe, the pressure so high inside of you that can’t even properly squeeze your walls around him. The feeling is suffocating, your wrists straining against his belt.

“Got you all prepped and ready for me, pretty thing,” he pulls out of you almost entirely, your cunt already feeling empty, before slamming back in hard. Your whole body jolts against the bed, he fills every part inside of you, the tip of his member pushing against your cervix again, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Now you’re gonna take me like you’re meant to, like you’re made to.” He pounds into you over and over again, your hands flat against the headboard as it shakes with each thrust. “And I’m gonna cum inside you, doll, just like I promised. And we’re gonna do this night after night, until your pussy moulds into the shape of my cock.”

He groans, pressing your knees down with his heavy body weight, until you’re almost chest-to-chest, his head draped beside yours. “Gonna cum deep inside of you, load after load, until you’re filled to the brim. Never gonna use my own hands again when this sweet cunt is just down the hall. My personal fucking cocksleeve.” Your mind goes blank with every thrust that hits deep inside of you, whines and moans leaving you, your breath catching with every kiss the tip makes with your cervix.

“You’re gonna go to sleep every night with my cum inside of you, wake up every morning to it still sticky between your thighs.” You swear he’s gone insane. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are wild, almost feral and destructive. But he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, the frothy ring that forms at the base of his cock, the sight of it making some animalistic urge inside of him come out to scream to him that you’re his.

“You take me so well, doll. Shh, yes, baby, I know it feels good.” He doesn’t care anymore. The whole heir of destiny shit is at the back of his mind compared to the way your pussy feels squeezing around him.

“But y’know, baby,” he hisses through his teeth, “You cumming isn’t particularly necessary.” The whine that you elicit at hearing that makes him smile, you’re so adorable that he kisses your cheek. “Maybe that’ll be your punishment, hm? If ya really wanna cum, you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”

You pull on your restraints uselessly. “Please, Blade, please make me cum. I wanna cum, fuck, you’re so big.”

It’s clear to Blade that you’re not in your right mind by the way your eyes are glazed over, body limp aside from the way your thighs tighten around him, whimpering pleads and apologies and his name.

“Got nothing but cock in your brain, don’t ‘cha? Just a hole, made to be bred. That what you are? A pretty girl made for me to cum inside?”

You pant yes into his ear, you don’t know anything except how much you need him. Need for him to touch you, to let you cum, to fuck you.

“Say it then, my pretty girl. Say you want my cum.”

Your words feel foreign in your own ears the minute they come out of your mouth, you can’t believe for a minute what you’re saying but you decide you don’t care either.

“W-Want your cum, Blade.”

Your voice is meek, soft in comparison to the slap of skin as he fucks you harder, deeper. Nothing makes Blade happier than breaking a pretty girl to beg for his cum.

“Mm, good girl. You can be good after all, can’t you?” He brings his hand down between your legs, brushing over where you’re both connected to right at the base, picking up the slick that still continues to drip down your crack. He brings it up to your clit, grazes it with his thumb, and your reaction is instant, whining so loudly it borders on a scream. You swear you see stars at the feeling of your clit and cervix being stimulated all at once, again and again until you start to clench down hard and uncontrollably around him.

“Shit, fuck, baby, you gotta let me in-” Blade forces his cock into you despite it, hips snapping against yours. You’re so far gone, uncaring of the way your body thrashes against his, mind empty except for the way his cock fills you up over and over again.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. You gonna cum, baby? Ah, fuck. You’re gonna take my cum, take it all when I cum deep inside of you. Go ahead, pretty, go on and come for me.”

You don’t know if he’s somehow brainwashed you but his words are like a command that your body instinctively knows to follow, your thighs tightening, head falling back, your walls squeezing his cock impossibly tighter until your body jerks and you’re cumming. Your hands grip on your restraints tight, back arching and heartbeat loud in your chest and ears as he works you through it, his fingers never ceasing over your clit. You feel the way Blade’s tempo starts to falter, the beautiful groan he makes as he thrusts as deep as he can go once, twice, and then his warm seed spills inside of you, coating your walls and womb white, filling you up.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby.” He overstimulates you both, fucking his cock in one more time with a hiss and another thrum of his thumb over your clit that has you trying to reel back just a little from him, even in your tired state, your walls still shaking with aftershocks.

He pulls out of you incredibly slowly, as if he’s careful to leave all of his fluids inside of you. He plugs your whole with his thumb as soon as he pulls out, but it only stops the inevitable from happening for a few seconds before his cum starts to spill out past it.

“You- you came so much,” you’re not sure if you exclaim it in wonder or horror, realizing what you had both just done.

He smirks. “Yeah, baby. And you’re gonna keep it inside of you for me, mmkay?” He plays with the cum that drips out of your hole, coating his fingers with it before pushing it back inside of you.

“This pussy’s mine now.”

The aftercare is a blur in your almost passed-out state. Blade picks up your lace panties and rides them back up your legs for you, to “keep his cum inside of you” and then says something about getting a plug. He makes you drink water, bringing a glass with a straw to you. The last thing you remember is him undoing your wrists of his belt before falling asleep.

As he lies next to you, Blade’s own voice echoes through his mind. Just a hole, made to be bred.

He knows you’ll likely take it as something he said in the moment. Well, it doesn’t really matter how you take it. But he realizes, it’s the first time he’s ever lied to you.

As cruel as Blade is, he believes in honesty. Maybe that’s the cruellest part about him.

But even as he lies next to your passed-out figure in bed, applying tincture to your wrists with such gentleness he’d never reveal to you in your waking state… He can feel the power that surges through you.

He presses his palm just under where your diaphragm would be, where the power is the strongest. Even in its unawakened state, even to Blade himself who is only half-awakened, remembering just parts of his past lives, even he can feel it. The way the power courses in waves, pulsing inside of you like a second heartbeat.

A/N: it’s a miracle this fic didn’t have a daddy kink in it but the next blade fic i write definitely will LMAOO

#blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #hsr smut #honkai star rail #hsr blade #blade x reader smut #blade x f!reader #blade x f!reader smut #hsr blade smut #blade star rail #blade hsr #blade honkai #star rail

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nena-la-fresa · 2 months

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The Dragon and The Wolf |Part 1|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Part 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f! Stark Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage | Steamy Themes | Angst |

Word Count: 1807

A/N: Hasn't been proof read so bear with me I'll fix it later. Aemond is also aged up to the actors age cuz that’s the age he looks.

You could overhear the whispers, the pity in their voices. The young wolf being sent off to marry a dragon.

All due to the stupidity of your house. How infuriating that they accepted an audience with Rhaenyra's son. It was most definitely seen as an act of treason to the Crown. No matter how much you pleaded with your father not to accept the meeting. You had the sight, you had seen what would happen if they had sided with her. You never disliked Rhaenyra, she was absolutely beautiful, you had always admired her since you were a child. But knowing that the safety of your family was now jeopardized you could not stay silent. But your family was permitted to stay on good terms with the Crown under the condition that you marry Prince Aemond.

The whispers of how you were kissed by visions from the gods had reached Otto. He was the reason your family was given a second chance. What better way to win wars and make sure his blood stayed on the throne than to marry his grandson to a Greenseer. The wedding would take place in a month's time. Plans had been formed to begin as soon as you had left for Kings Landing.

The road was long and no amount of sleep could calm your nerves.

“Mother please not now.”

Aemond pushes the door to his chambers, unable to close it as Alicent was close behind.

“I understand you are upset. But you know it is your duty. Your brother is sick, he’s practically on his deathbed. So your grandfather thought it was best to find you a wife in preparation.”

“The Stark girl who comes from a traitor family? How is that any good?” His voice hinted with malice.

“Because she is a great asset to our family. You know how your father always spoke of Targayens and their prophecies. How they escaped Old Valyria. This could be good for us, Aemond. We wouldn’t have to lose anyone else.” She moved forward and touched his arm as he stared into the fire. “Aemond please.”

“It’s not as if I have a choice mother.” He sighed and placed his hand on hers. No matter how frustrating a situation he could never be upset with her. “When will the wedding take place?”

“Two days after she arrives.”

Much to your dismay you had arrived at King's Landing. Your wedding was in two days time, nothing could prepare you for it. You hadn’t even seen your betrothed since the moment you got there. You had met the Queen and she had asked for your forgiveness at her sons, ‘Shyness’. You expected as much. You heard rumors, the whispers of how cold Aemond was. In fact you preferred that he didn’t see you. But contrary to what people believe you were not always within the favor of the gods.

“I know what people say of my son. And I am sorry you have to hear that. But I can assure you he is at the very least a gentleman. If my son ever does you harm please do let me know and I will do my best to correct his behavior. “

“Thank you. I very much- '' You were cut off by the sounds of the doors opening loudly combined with heavy footsteps.

“Mother, Aegon has been begging for you. Please shut hi-'' He paused as he saw you sitting there. Before you turned to him could only describe you as cold looking and distant, with a hint of poise. He thought your look was very fitting for a Northerner. And had he known his mother requested an audience with you he wouldn’t have come barging in.

“Good you're here.” Alicent got up from her seat and headed towards him. “I’ll deal with your brother. But the two of you need to converse.”

Alicent closes the door behind her, “Make sure he doesn’t leave just yet.” She tells the guard on post.

You turned away from him and focused your attention on the fire as you began to fidget with your hands. Aemond takes notice of it, and he sees the same movement his mother does when she gets nervous. Then he hears you wince, and the sight of blood can be seen on your thumb.

“Stop that.” He took three steps before he was in front of you and grabbed your hands. You had looked up at him in surprise, looking at him now you couldn’t believe the rumors you heard of him looking hideous. Your eyes softened a bit at his touch and by the look of concern he gave you. He had an ethereal beauty to him, even with the eyepatch and scar.

As he looked down at you he took notice of your eyes, doe like. And that coldness he saw was gone for the moment. He then remembered the blood on your hand, not having anything to wipe away the blood he brought your hand up to his lips and sucked the blood.

You should be weirded out. But the sensation of his tongue and lips against your finger sent a shiver down your spine that made its way to your nether regions.

“Aemond.” You whispered his name. Yet it seemed as if he didn’t hear you. You cleared your throat and spoke clearly, “I think the blood has stopped now.”

He let go of your hand “Forgive me.” In a panic he turns and heads straight for the door. As he opens the door the guards stop him.

“Forgive me Prince Aemond but your mother said not to let you leave just yet.” Aemond gave the guard a look.

“You must be joking.”

“Sorry my Prince.” The guard shut the door leaving Aemond trapped.

“Unbelievable.” Aemond made his way over to sit by the fireplace. You both sat in silence for what felt like hours. You watched him as the fire casted a shadow on one side of his face and illuminated the other.

“Are you always so quick to run away?” You playfully joked.

He turned his head quickly to you and was quick to respond, “Maybe if you had not picked at your skin I would not have run away.”

You were taken aback by his response, almost getting whiplash by his change in tone. Just a minute ago he was gentle with you. “Me? Then maybe you should not have kissed my finger.”

“You dare argue with me?” He scoffed.

“Yes and what of it.” You stood up and made your way over to him. “Are you going to have me killed?”

He laughed and stood up, he towered over you. “No.” He smirked and leaned down at eye level, “I could just do it myself.”

“And risk another war?”

“Oh please, your father begged my grandsire for forgiveness. You really think they’d go to war for a daughter?”

“You must know very well considering they call you kinslayer.”

“Hold your tongue.” He hissed and grabbed your face firmly.

“You must know what love for one’s child could make anyone do. What your sister did for her son, and what your mother did for hers.”

“Do you always speak when you’re told not to?” His voice no longer hinted with any concern he had for you earlier. You felt his breathing become heavy, and his grip tightened.

“Do I upset you?” You smirked slightly, “Were you expecting someone quiet? Someone who won’t put up a fight?”

“Like how you put up a fight when I cleaned your blood?” His face moves closer to your ear as he whispers. “You don’t think I could feel you shaking? Or hear your breathing hitch?”

“What are you doing?” You try to pull away as you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Not much of a fight you’re putting up is it.” He kissed your neck, and sucked for just a second. Just enough to make you let out a small whimper.

“Aemond stop.” You pleaded as he kept teasing you. You felt the heat rising in your body and I’m sure that he felt it too.

His lips were moving down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked a bit harder, enough to leave a mark, you winced and pushed him away. Without even thinking you slapped him.

His face turned only slightly, it was almost as if it hadn’t even hurt him. You kept looking at him and noticed the light tint of red on his cheek. Not only that but the corner of his lip began to bleed, the sight of it had distracted you from the stinging pain coming from your palm.

You hurt him, but he kept pushing. But maybe it was your fault for teasing him. But he practically defiled you before you were even married. He went too far. Yes you were to be married but, what of this mark. What will others think? Will they think you were a whore? Will they question your virtue and think another man has touched you? Will this get your family and you killed? You hadn’t seen this, in fact you hadn’t seen anything regarding Aemond in your dreams or visions. Your thoughts ran wild and you couldn’t stand to be here anymore. It was all overwhelming. What were you doing here? How could your father be so stupid. How could he do this to you? You weren’t some common whore.

“Forgive me, my Lady. I went to fa-” Before he could even finish what he wanted you were gone. His head turned to hear the doors fling open and your scurrying footsteps. He began to run after you but ran into his mother in the corridor. Alicent had looked back at you and then at her son. She could see his tinted check and the blood.

“Aemond what did you do?” She wiped the blood off his lip.

The next two days were spent with you avoiding Aemond at all cost. You had practically locked yourself in your chambers. Thankfully Alicent had permitted it, but that didn’t help much as tomorrow was the day. The day you would be binded to him forever. The whole day was nothing but making sure that your dress still fit and that you were prepped for consummating the marriage. It has plagued your mind. Not even sleep could help with this.

The sounds of the bells had brought you out of your trance. You don’t even remember how you got up here. But here you were next to Aemond hand in hand about to be trapped.

As both your hands were tied together the man spoke, “Let it be known that Y/n of House Stark and Aemond of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

#xreader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #x reader #hotd x reader

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cowyolks · 1 year

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter Two- The Shadow Chapter One Masterlist

Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

A/n: Thank you for all the love on the previous chapter! And a special thanks to @soapyghost for giving me some ideas for Ghost’s appearance!

“Then why don’t you?” His deep voice cut through the balmy night.

You felt the chill before you even turned around. There was something terribly wrong about the way this voice purred– something dark and dangerous that was met to lure in tortured souls.

But you were never one to be scared of the dark.

With curious eyes, you turned from the crow in the briar, paying little attention to the goosebumps that littered your arms. In this moment, it felt more like winter than the peak of summer. How strange.

At first when you had glanced in the direction of the voice, you couldn’t see anything. The gardens were dark, barely lit by the occasional lantern that burned fresh oil.

Then you caught the slight definition of a silhouette, perched against the marble monument of your clan’s crest.

“Who are you?” You strained, attempting to get a good look at the shadow. The dark figure was tall, taller than anyone in your village. Still, you didn’t seem to cower, even though you likely should.

“That doesn’t matter now.”

“If you won’t tell me your name, step into the light.”

An amused hum escaped from him, before he sat up straight, no longer leaning comfortably against the marble statue. Instead, his feet stepped hesitantly into the light pooling from the lantern.

Your eyes rounded as you tried to drink up every detail about this stranger. He was tall and wide, weathered and torn. In all honesty you weren’t sure this man was even human.

He wasn’t unlike his silhouette, covered in articles of black. If you looked closely, you could see the material swirling like smoke around his body.

Every instinct screamed for you to run– to go back to your mother and apologize for the way you’ve been acting. For something terribly wicked had just found you, and was staring like you were the only thing that was left on Earth. The skull he wore upon his face made it even worse, the bleached bone etched with dark paint, as if this was a helm for battle.

You should’ve ran… for he was death.

“You’re more beautiful than my mind could have ever conjured.” He mumbled.

Your mouth felt dry at the words, and when you went to speak, nothing came out. With round eyes, your brain spun in circles. His previous words had implied that he thought of you before, but you’ve never seen this man in your life.

A loud caw made you flinch, drawing your attention back to the crow upon the briar. The bird fluttered to your shoulder, digging its claws gently into your flesh. It had never landed upon you before.

A slow chuckle escaped from the man at the little bird’s call. You swiveled back to him, curiously watching his eyes through the skull.

“Come.” He tilted his fingers in a beckoning motion. Your face wrinkled at his bluntness, until the crow flapped it’s wings towards the man.

Your eyes did a double-take as the black feathers of the bird shifted, instead turning into a gorgeous silver brooch. With a clip to the man’s clothes, it extended into a cloak.

“You- you’re the crow?” You stammered, feeling violated at all the times the bird had watched you.

“No. The crow is part of me.” His eyes fell to your neckline, a glimmer in his dark eyes at the rubies that sat perched upon the hollow of your throat. The rubies he had gave you.

“I don’t understand.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to. Your mother has done wisely to hide you from me. To wed you off to another.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.” You found some boldness. His eyes flickered with amusement.

“No… you do not. Walk with me?” He let the offer stand, something you were hesitant to do. This man was a stranger– someone with the possession of magic. He swirled in his own darkness and chill.

Yet, you trusted him completely.

With careful steps you drew closer, feeling your heart race as you grew near inches from him. “I’ll walk with you. If you tell me your name.” You struck the deal, feeling small as his black eyes flickered down to you.

“I go by many. Some call me Hades, others Pluto, I’ve even been called Ghost. But for now, you may call me Simon.”

“Simon.” You tested the waters, not noticing the small shiver that tensed through his shoulders at his name.

He nodded his head, beckoning you to follow down the grassy path and into the winding meadows. Fireflies lit the path as you followed behind, making the scene that much more eerie. You bit your lip as you watched him stomp a path out for you to step, his shoulders and back tense with each step.

Your thoughts spun rapidly, it was then when you realized you’ve never introduced yourself to the man.

“I never even said who I was and you act as if you know me.”

He turned to you, towering over your small form in a way that only oozed raw power.

“I’ve known of you all my life. I’ve heard your name whispered in my head more than I can count. I’ve thought of you every minute of every cold miserable day.”

His hand reached to your cheek, but he did not touch you. He dropped his hand, as if he would break you with a single touch.

“You had me in your hands since the dawn of time.”

Air ceased to enter your lungs at such a proclamation. You couldn’t handle looking him in the eyes.

“How?” Was all you had said, and he looked as if he would have answered, if not for the mocking laugh that disturbed you both.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Shepherd’s commanding voice made your body freeze as you turned to face him. The air grew chillier as Simon moved to stand in front of you, subtly shielding you from your betrothed.

“It’s midnight. The summer solstice is over, I can do as I please.” His deep voice angrily spat at Shepherd. You peaked around Simon’s shoulder, now fully being able to observe the eldest man.

He was no longer in the suit he wore to the feast, instead armor covered his legs and arms, a large and glimmering chestpiece fitted his chest, among with a helmet of shining gold.

“You’re taking what is mine.” He growled, unsheathing a large sword from his side. You gulped at the blade and the wicked flames that burned in your betrothed eyes.

“You dare? What’s yours? Has your thick skull forgotten of the prophecy?” Simon growled, you took notice of his own body shifting, silver slipping upon his body that formed into his own armor, molded to fit around his enormous frame. If you weren’t so confused and dazed you could have sworn you saw dark wings flutter against his back in anger.

“It seems to have slipped my mind…” Shepherd growled, turning his flamed eyes to your form, a sinister grin passing over his lips. “Come back to me, little bird.” He cooed dangerously. This was more of a command than a suggestion.

You felt the dangerous pull of Shepherd, your mind mush as an invisible force pushed you past Simon and closer to the man. You fought against the force, digging your heels into the dirt.

Simon’s hand felt like ice as he gripped onto your wrist. A hiss escaping him, when literal sparks flew from your connected touch.

“When you spoke of flying away, did you mean it? I won’t force you into fleeing if it’s not what you truly desire.” He spoke fast, eyes flickering dangerously between Shepherd and yourself. His stance coiled, as if ready for a potential fight.

You thought for a split second, your mind flashing to your clan, your mother, and your betrothed with eyes of flaming fire.

With an exhale, your eyes met his own shadowy ones.

“Take me away…”

—

Next Chapter

Tags: @queenqu33f @blueoorchid @lethalchiralium @eclipse-darling @galagcica @dead-noodles @agspgrwasb @toobsessedsstuff @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @vile-villain6661 @peachlcve

Sorry if I missed anyone! <3

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #god!ghost #general shepherd

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isabella1798 · 3 months

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Why does no one talk about Eva (Jude’s mother) and Asha (Cardan’s mother) being best friends + Justin’s deal with Grimsen ?

I would love a backstory of Asha and Eva’s “friendship” because we know they were best friends who went everywhere together causing trouble. Their companionship was brief, they were both awful and they used to sneak of to the mortal lands together. I can imagine Asha knew what was going on between Justin and Eva and made Eva spill all of the *tea*. I’m very certain that Lady Asha helped Eva and Justin escape and was present at the time of when Eva received that prophecy. It got me thinking how Eva and Justin could get a pregnant mortal in to Madocs household but Asha was probably the one that did by using her glamour. Asha said she could tell Jude about her mother and her mother’s escape which obviously tells us she was there. It also got me thinking if they sent letters to each other while Eva and Justin lived in the mortal lands is well. If Eva and Asha were still in contact then it might have been how balekin found out Eva and Justin were alive (although balekin claims he found out from gossip) … he probably found one of Asha’s letters at the time they lived in the palace (a symbolic reason as to why Asha burned Cardans letters to Jude). We also know Oriana didn’t like Asha and Eva. Which makes me think that part of the reason why she could not tolerate Jude, Taryn, Vivi and couldn’t care less about Cardan is because Eva and Asha were cruel to Oriana. Even though Oriana told Jude Asha never loved anyone, it makes me think Asha might of loved Eva, even if it was only a little bit. Of course Asha will never admit this to anyone because she is a heartless and shallow woman, but I think she wanted to help her friend escape because she could see how miserable Eva was. I get the impression she didn’t think it was a good idea but still did it because she loved Eva. And when she found out Eva had died she must have mourned for her ex best friend. I can also see Asha looking at Jude and Cardan and thinking how much they remind her of herself and Eva. According to Oriana Eva had a great appreciation for Asha’s wickedness and this reminded me of when Cardan said to Jude in TWK “I never thought I could see my cruelty as talents but you did”. That is the exact copy of Asha and Eva. I think that’s why Asha holds a lot of resentment against Jude because Jude is the spitting image of her mother and is a lot like her. And that’s something that Asha is reminded of that she wishes to forget. I can see Asha and Eva getting drunk on wine at each other’s homes and playing cruel pranks on the folk while making fun of everyone and sneaking off to the mortal lands coming back with heeps of mortal clothing, accessories and food while they were friends.

It’s quite interesting to think that Eva, Asha, Oriana and Liriope (Locke+Oaks mother) were all familiar with each other. Could they have been friends all in a group like Cardan, Locke, Nicasia and Valerian ?

But what I want to know is what was the deal Grimsen made with Justin and did it have anything to do with the hag that gave Eva a prophecy about Jude? And something to do with Cardan’s star chart reading? Was the deal that Justin’s future children would have power or something like that? I have no idea but this is a question that NEEDS to be answered before this trilogy ends. Holly Black said she will probably do one more book set in Elfhame after the Prisoners Throne and that Jude will “face a political problem” at the end of this book. This makes me think the last book will go back to Jude and Cardan. And if so we need to know what this deal was….

#jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #holly black #madoc #high queen of elfhame #high king of elfhame #oak greenbriar #queen suren #taryn duarte #vivi duarte #eva duarte #jurdan #folk of the air #lady asha

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lilacxoz · 11 months

Text

More Intimate~ Alhaitham

No implied gender, female genitalia

Boyfriend!alhaitham, bit of degradation, creampie, Alhaitham is a sex god.

You stare off into the widespread ocean, a gentle breeze picking up and blowing through your white maxi floral printed dress; the sun making the blue flowers sparkle.

You had to arrive back home in Mondstat in two days since vacation for the scholars was in full swing. The only thing you'd miss was your beloved boyfriend, a man who was very hard to peruse. You remember the first time you confessed to him; he had told you how relationships weren't his thing and he'd rather keep to himself. But after that confession, you seemed to have piqued his interest. After a few months after that confession, he seemed to be more comfortable around you. And since then, he has now been an amazing boyfriend.

You took in a fresh breath of air, the hot sun beaming down on you in a blissful way. "You look something out of a romance novel," you hear a familiar voice say from behind you. You turn around to be met with those beautiful aquatic eyes that never failed to make you swoon. He stood before you, his arms crossed over his chest as the most subtle smile curves his lips up.

"I didn't know you were such a complimenter," you tease, taking notice of the book in his hand. You point to it, a raised eyebrow crossing you face, "The Hidden Secrets of Intimacy?"

You watch as his cheeks grow pink as he hastily slips the book in his personal belongings, uttering a few incoherent words to himself. "It's nothing, just something I picked up at the library." You let a small giggle escape, it was no surprise that your beloved Alhaitham was new to love and all the different forms of it.

"So you were learning about intimacy?" You ask with a small smirk, crossing your own petite arms over your chest. Alhaitham was a good six foot tall, easily towering over your frame. At first, you found this intimidating, but now you find it endearing.

"No I was learning about the prophecy of a persons devotion and benevolence," he says in a monotone voice, giving you a straight face. You roll your eyes, flicking his forehead in result to your annoyance.

"You don't have to get so grammatical on me, just admit you were learning about sex," you say, taking his hand in yours as you lead him further down the port and towards the docks. "I don't know why you can't just be honest with me when you're embarrassed. Like that one time, instead of admitting you were wrong you insisted to buy me a lot of expensive things," you pointed out, making the ash haired scribe roll his eyes.

"Like you can talk," he scoffs, cupping your cheek with his hand as he leans down just a bit, "you always run away when you get embarrassed."

You let out a scoff of your own at his correct yet bold statement. He watches as your face turns a crimson red, a look of triumph glossing over his features. He decides to have more fun teasing you; pulling you close to him by the hips as he turns you so he's hugging you from behind. He knows how you feel about public affection and how embarrassed it makes you. You'd always ask him how he could be so publicly affectionate when he was, to which he'd always respond with "because I do what I want, I'm not gonna let a few stares change that."

"'Haitham!" You whine, trying to squirm from his grasps but it was a failed attempt. He places kisses in the crevices of your neck, his arms snug around the indent in your waist.

"Shhh, causing a ruckus will only make more people stare," he whispers. You let yourself relax, he wasn't going to let up soon so you'd just have to bare the embarrassment. He takes a hand and sweeps your hair to one side of your head so he can get a better view of your neck. "Why does publicity like this always make you embarrassed?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss to your neck.

"I don't know, just the thought of so many eyes on us; I don't know how it doesn't make you feel a little anxious," you admit, placing a hand over the arms he has wrapped around you.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I could stop, I don't want to, but I will." He leans over you a bit to see your face, to which you just shook your head in response.

"It's fine, just something I really need to get used to," you say as you turn around in his arms, planting a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Hey, Kaveh is supposed to be gone today right?" You ask as you run your fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck. He gives you a perplexed expression before a small smirk forms on his face.

"How bold of you, why don't we eat all of his pizza as well," he suggests to which you nod. You found that one of Alhaitham's favorite pass times is making his roommates life inconvenient.

And so the two of you set off to Alhaitham's shared town home, watching him fumble with his keys a bit before finally unlocking the door. You had been in their home several times, but never alone with your boyfriend like this in the home. Despite the relationship between you two standing for four months already; you both have only had sex twice, each time being in your small apartment because Kaveh was at their home with a girl of his own.

"You want any juice or water? We could indulge in his apple juice?" You shake your head with a giggle, as much as you loved tormenting Kaveh and Alhaithem by helping them with their pranks, you didn't want to eat all of his food.

You sat on the countertop next to the fridge while you watched your boyfriend open the pizza box on the kitchen island in front of you. He hands you a slice before setting his hands on your thighs, accepting the first bite in the pizza that you offer being taking the second.

"So, you have your bags packed yet for your trip? it's a really long trip, you sure you want to make it?" You smile at his expression, he was always so caring of you and you loved that. He'd tell you he cared so much because it would be inconvenient if something bad happened to you, but you knew better.

"I can make it, I haven't seen my mom or dad in a year, I think it's time I visit," you say, offering him another bite in the slice of pizza that he greatly accepts. "But the option for you to come is still on the table, I know you have work to do but can't you do work on the go or something? You know, like file paperwork or something like that?"

"I wish, but things have been a little hectic lately." You offer a small smile as you finish off the pizza, placing your hands over the ones he has on your thighs. "But look, you get the last days you have in Sumeru with me if you'll really miss me that much," he points out, rubbing a soft circle on your thigh with his thumb.

"I know, it's just-" you trail off, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue as your eyes drift off. He could tell you wanted to say something but we're unsure of it, and he didn't know why that was. He thought the both of you were comfortable enough to say everything, but lately he's noticed how you trail off mid-sentences sometimes.

"Why do you do that?" The question catches you a bit off guard as you meet his greyish eyes. "You don't finish sentences sometimes, like you want to say something. Just say it, it's not like the words will hurt me or you." You gulp at his call out, a little taken aback at how heeding he was.

"Well-" you suck in a breath, a blush blooming on your face. "It's just, we don't really get that intimate and I just don't know how to bring that whole subject up without getting embarrassed. So I was hoping that if you went on the trip with me that the moment would arise." His face goes blank before a smirk forms on his face as he stands up straight, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You have been acting weird because you're horny?" He gives a chuckle making you look up at him with an angry expression, your face beat red. "Sweet, you can ask me anything there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Yeah but you always make me feel embarrassed with your reactions, you could be a little more sensitive," you say, jumping off the counter and moving to walk out of the kitchen. He stops you by wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a kiss to the back of your neck.

"You know, I've been pretty pent up too. But I'll admit something to you too; I don't know how to initiate the first move because I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Your heart stops a beat at his confession, turning around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck.

"But you don't need to worry about that, I tell you when I'm uncomfortable so why wouldn't I about that?" He shrugs, to which you kiss his cheek with a giggle. "I guess we've both been a little scared of the whole intimacy thing." You decide to take the first step, gently connecting your lips to his. This seems to open a door within Alhaitham, because he pulls you closer by the hips, pressing you up against the fridge in a haste. His lips make the next attack, laching onto your neck as he isn't shy about making his mark.

You let out a soft whisper of his name, your hands scrunching up his skintight shirt as your body responds to his actions. His hands scrunch up your sundress to your hips, skillfully sliding his knee in between your legs to apply some friction to your aching need.

"W-We can't do this out here," you softly whisper, causing him to grunt in response. He detaches his lips from your neck, his eyes completely lusted over along with the pink dusting his cheeks. He drags you by your dress towards his room, pushing you up against his door once he gets it closed. He had a very spacious room, his own room having a sliding door that led to a tiny garden outside his bedroom. His bed was large and sat in the middle of the back wall, a dresser on the adjacent wall full of stacks of books as well as stacks scattered across the floor.

He began to undress you, slipping the straps off your body and letting your dress pool at your feet. His lips took the liberty off nibbling on your ear, his hands making quick work of your bra. Once he gets your bra unhooked he tosses it behind him, each hand cupping a mound. "Such a pretty girl," he whispers, lips moving back to your each most sensitive places on your neck and chest. You decide to take your turn on undressing, starting with his top, leaving only his skintight sleeveless turtleneck.

He began to assist you, taking off his sleeves before pulling you towards the bed. He sat down on the foot of the bed, pulling you onto him so you're straddling his thighs. "Tell me what you want," he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand. Moments like these-when he was in a good mood, he'd be so loving and affectionate with you; like his heart was made of sugar.

"I want you. I want you to fuck me, please." He smirks at that, tilting his head to the side.

"You'd like that huh?" You nod, planting a kiss to his cheek, and then neck, and then soon you both were desperately taking his top off. He flipped you around so you were laid on his bed, his head resting in the crevice of your neck while his hand slips it's way downwards. When you feel his finger gently slide along your slit, you let out a throaty gasp, body tending up from the suddenness.

"You don't want to have sensual, slow sex like all the other times we've done it?" You shake your head, you were gonna be gone for awhile and you wanted to remember the roughness and softness of him-wanted to be left knowing what happened instead of thinking about what happened.

"Good," he said as he thrusted two fingers inside your pussy, body tending up at first before relaxing against him. You let him take control of your body, the pleasure filling up your body like a flood. You let out a series of moans and whines, to which he drinks up each one with his lips attacking yours.

It didn't take long before your hands were coiling into his hair and your body arching against his, your sweet relief on the horizon. Alhaitham could tell you were close by the way your eyes screwed shut and your moans became raspy and whiny. He decided to have fun with you, pulling his fingers out and shoving them in your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise and disappointment at the loss friction.

"What's the matter? Did you really think I'd let you cum so early? With out me?" He pulls his fingers out of your parted lips, moving his hand so it wraps around your neck, not blocking any airways. When you don't give a response he sublty tightens his grip on your neck, raising an eyebrow. "Use your words and respond."

"Yes, I hoped you would," you mumble, averting your eyes from his hard turquoise ones. He chuckles, releasing your neck and instead cupping your cheek.

"You hoped wrong sweetheart," he cooes, positioning himself as he uses his hands to free himself from his confinements. You stared at his beautiful pink tip, drinking in the sight of how it slightly curved up. You readied yourself once he aligned his tip to your entrance, your body impatiently waiting for him to bottom out.

He slipped his tip in before purposefully missing, earning a frustrated huff from you. He did the same over and over, coating his cock in your glistening wetness.

"'Haitham stop it," you whine, his face forming a shit-eating grin. He leans down towards your ear, purposefully missing again just to set you off a little more.

"Stop what?~" he cooes, leaning away to take in your irritated expression.

"Stop fucking around and fuck me like a man!" You finally yell, irritation burning your blood. Your words seem to shock him, his face contorting from shock to a bit of anger. You weren't ready for what happened next, his cock plunging deep inside so much further than you've ever felt.

"Fuck you like a man? If that's what you want than I want you to scream and whine like the pathetic slut you are," he whispers in your ear, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

His hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head. His hips snap against yours, over and over again like a broken record. Your mouth went agape, quiet moans and whimpers escaping, your voice completely gone from how deliciously good he felt.

One particular hard thrust erupted a scream-like moan, your body hitching against his. Your hands tried to grasp onto something but he tightened his grip, grunting with each thrust.

"Tell me how good it feel, tell me how good I make you feel," he groans, hitting deeper and deeper until your legs start to shake.

"Fuck! You make me feel so fucking good," you moan, the pressure quickly building up so badly it hurts. He smirks in response, letting go of your wrists and instead pushing your knees up to your chest. The position hits you even deeper, your mouth left open as you let the pleasure consume you.

It was like time stopped, felt like your orgasm lasted for so long. Your vision went black, body shaking uncontrollably. Once you finally calmed down, your vision came back to you and your body stopped shaking. You didn't get the time to catch your breath because Alhaitham was always flipping you onto your stomach.

You were left with your ass up in the air, head buried into the sheets. "Just like that, take me all the way," he grunts from behind you, pounding himself back into you. You let out a strangled moan, the overstimulating sending you into overdrive.

His hand came down to rub your clit, your voice uncontrolled and coming out all cracked and raspy. "'M gonna cum inside, you'd like that won't you?" You nodded, hips meeting with each of his thrusts. It wasn't long before the overstimulation became too much, such a powerful orgasm on the rise.

The feeling of him shooting his cum inside of you was enough to set you off, your body curving into the mattress below. The room was filled with heavy breaths and quiet curses.

It took a few minutes before you were flipped around and gently laid against his bare chest. Your bodies glistened with sweat, your inner thighs wet with arousal and his cum. The feeling of it slipping out was enough to make a catholic have a heart attack.

"I'm glad we're agreeing sex needs to be more often," Alhaitham whispered, his hand slipping in between your thighs, slipping his fingers inside of you.

"Yeah like twice or three times a week, not every hour," you say, easily picking out the look of lust in his eyes.

"Just one more round, until you feel full of my cum."

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin fanfic #smut #alhaitham x reader #al haitham smut #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #alhaitham smut

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blueskittlesart · 5 months

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what do you think his thoughts were at that moment?

this is an insane question and i am going rabid trying to answer it. for context this is about my. link dead on the fucking floor compilation. i. e. "what do you think went through link's mind as he all but DIED in precalamity botw."

i've thought about this before because. well obviously i have. look at how many times i've drawn it. i think context matters more than anything when examining that moment, because it's essentially the culmination of link's entire life up to that point in the worst way possible. you have a kid who has been raised to either win or die. those are his only two options. he's known this for basically as long as he can remember. either he defeats the calamity like he's supposed to and lives the rest of his life as an untouchable gold standard of soldier, as proof that all that pressure and pain he suffered worked, or he dies and dooms everyone he has ever loved to suffer horribly for the rest of their likely very short lives. And i do think he thought about this extensively, because how could you NOT, and i think that he probably believed that death was the most likely outcome. He was raised by a soldier, around soldiers, to be a soldier. soldiers are practical. soldiers strategize for the most likely scenario. they're not pessimistic, but they know how to look at a situation objectively and make a judgement call. Looking at link's situation objectively, it would have been obvious that he couldn't win. he was one kid, a 16-year-old boy, with maybe some above-average swordsmanship skills, but too many variables were missing. he couldn't hear the sword's voice. zelda's power wouldn't manifest. Hylia, who should have been there guiding them through this prophecy that SHE had supposedly inflicted on them, was completely silent. the divine beasts may have given him some hope, initially, but it was clear below the optimistic facade that hyrule was toying with very dangerous forces they didn't truly understand. I think he very likely went into that confrontation with the calamity anticipating death.

what's most interesting to me about the scene of link's death isn't that he fell, but WHERE he fell. because he didn't die in the sanctum, at the scene of the calamity's birth, as one might have expected. he died in an empty field along the road to a fortress that might have been able to protect him. Link, the bearer of the triforce of courage, the boy raised to die a martyr at the hands of the calamity, who had all but accepted his fate before the monster even showed its face, chose to run for safety, what some might call the coward's approach, instead of dying where he stood at ganon's hand. and it seems almost out of character at first, when you think about the person he was when he first met zelda, the person who would do anything in his power to show no weakness, to take the pain and the stress without flinching or faltering. the boy who so completely embodied that idea of "courage." but i think that zelda was the piece that changed him. If it had just been him at that final confrontation, maybe he wouldn't have run. maybe he would have been content to take his final stand and accept the death he'd been promised. but zelda insisted on being there, too. "there must be something i can do to help." and while link was a soldier, more than willing to engage in self-sacrifice, he was also a knight, sworn to protect this girl, and so he couldn't in good conscience sacrifice HER, too. so he ran. he tried to live, at a moment when he should have expected to die. and i think that was infinitely more courageous of him. to go against everything you have ever known and expected is infinitely scarier than accepting the outcome you've always anticipated. Running for his life (and for zelda's) was running into the unknown. escaping death in that way was defying everything he'd built himself up to be, everything everyone expected of him. Who is link if not the hero who faced the calamity with courage? what would he have to be if he could not be what was expected of him? in that moment, he made the choice to step into the unprophesized timeline, into a world where his actions were no longer defined by some great all-seeing power. and that was the most courageous move he could have made in that moment. he must have been terrified.

so what was going through his mind as he made his last stand? Honestly, i think the only thing on his mind was zelda. I don't think he cared about himself, his physical condition, any of it. I think he made the choice to run because of zelda and so he made the choice to take his final stand where he did because of her, too. just before zelda's power manifests, we see him try to continue fighting even inches from death, so gravely injured that he's unsteady on his feet, using his sword to keep himself standing. i think he must have known that he was in no condition to fight anymore, but he expected death to come for him at one point or another. what mattered was that she might live as long as he kept going. that's why he ran in the first place. not for himself, but because zelda was there and zelda didn't deserve to die like this. Even once zelda's power manifests, link only gives up and allows himself to fall once a beat or two has past--once he's sure that there really is no more danger. that she'll be okay, that she can make it past the fort and into relative safety even if he lets go here. He collapses then, and only then, after running miles through fields and woods, already gravely wounded, because in that moment he sees that the danger has past. a soldier's work is only done when there is nothing left to fight. a knight's work is only done when his princess is truly safe.

maybe he was relieved that he'd managed to hold on as long as he had. that he'd been able to find her some form of safety, in one way or another. maybe he worried about what manner of things would come for her once he was gone. maybe he wondered why she wouldn't just leave him and run for the fort. i'm sure there was a flash of regret in the back of his mind, for the family and friends he'd leave behind, for the people he'd let down, for the calamity he wasn't able to defeat. but this was the outcome he'd expected, even if it had come in a slightly different form. Even if now there was a girl hovering above him begging him to open his eyes.

#can you tell i never stop thinking about this specific moment? lol #i still think my loz dissertation line about this moment goes hard btw.#'There is a flash of golden light. He cannot raise his head to witness it. but it is warm. so warm. it feels like safety. like home.#He closes his eyes and breathes in. he is sure he is dying. This will be his last breath. At least it will be warm and soft and golden.'#like damn ok 2021 blue. you get it. go off #asks #zelda analysis

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midnight-pluto · 5 months

Note

First time trying out an event

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Trope: Comfort/Hurt, Angst

AU: Riordanverse

Style: One-shot

How about a Percy Jackson x mortal gn!reader who can see through the mist where Percy hears about a prophecy of how he must lose (death or just leave him) his s/o for a quest, and in trying to find ways on how to stop it, ends up not giving reader any attention or care that they break up and possibly die or just leave.

(sorry if it's too confusing, you can change parts of it to your writing style)

NO ESCAPE — percy j.

TROPES: fluff, angst, comfort/hurt

UNIVERSE: canon-ish

PAIRING(S): percy jackson x gn!reader

WARNING(S): set place after pjo and before hoo, talks of trauma and PTSD and death

A/N: it’s been a while since I’ve written for the pjo fandom so I hope I did ur idea justice

“NO,” PERCY DEADPANS, looking Rachel. “I refuse to believe that this prophecy is about me and Y/N. Absolutely not, the gods have fucked up my life enough - I am not allowing it to happen, again.”

“Percy my prophecy’s haven’t failed to be true,” Rachel replies, feeling remorse for the boy in front of her.

“No, see, remember? Remember the prophecy where you thought it was me who was the hero but it was actually,” Percy swallowed hard to mention his former friend, “Luke.

“Maybe it’ll happen but it still doesn’t mean it applies to me and Y/N.”

“Percy the fates are inescapable. You can’t cheat them, you can’t trick them, you can’t escape them,” Rachel sternly tell before speaking a tired and small, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s well- not okay, but it’s not your fault,” he sighed, burying his head in his hands. “I better find Y/N soon,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking out of the cave.

It was supposed to be just a fun, small, 3-day trip to camp due to it being spring break for him. But that turned out to be just another time where he was forced into serving the gods with zero thanks.

By the time Percy was informed of his fate, he didn’t have enough time to cope during his trip and was picked up by his mom, Paul, and you later that day.

“Percy! How was camp?” you smiled at the boy walking towards the three of you, running up to him and giving him a hug.

“It was alright,” he said blankly, continuing his walk to the car.

That made you pause - and not just because of the blank remark.

But because he didn’t hug you back.

You shot a worried look towards his parents automatically knowing something was off.

Paul was driving while Sally was sat in front so it was just you and Percy sitting in the back together. Normally, the car would be full of chatter with Percy rambling about whatever happened at camp while he was there while holding your hand.

This time though, there was no chatter, and there was no holding hands.

“So did anything exciting happen at camp?” Paul tried to break the stiffening silence, “Want to get to ice cream?”

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” Percy replied, eyes fixated out the window seemingly lost in thought.

To you it seemed that while you weren’t sharing loving touches with each other, you both still seemed to be sharing troubled thoughts and minds plagued with worry.

He wasn’t possessed - you’d know - and he was still himself; but not. What could’ve happened in the past three days that could’ve caused him to act like this?

You knew his dreams were ridden with trauma and flashbacks and sometimes a horrid future awaiting but he’d normally speak to you about such things. You could only hope if it were such a case he’d talk to you about it soon.

IT SEEMED THAT soon couldn’t come soon enough. Spring break had already passed, and it’s been a near month and Percy has barely spoken to you throughout it at all.

Percy on the other hand felt at his absolute worst.

Well, that was of course an exaggeration but knowing the fate of the relationship you have is still really terrible.

It wasn’t his intention to distance himself from you, it’s just something he did subconsciously - a desperate attempt to preserve what was already made.

“Percy?” his mother knocked on his door, “I brought you cookies.”

“Thanks, uh, can I talk to you about something?” Percy asked, taking the plate of cookies and placing them on his bedside.

“Yes of course you can,” Sally smiled, and shut the door to sit on the edge of his bed.

“When- when I was at camp I of course had the fortune of being part of a prophecy… again,” Percy inhaled a sharp breath, “And it was about me and Y/N and- Rachel said that I was gonna lose them and I just- I don’t want that.”

“Oh Percy,” she frowned pulling her son into a hug, rubbing his back softly as his tears spilled onto her shirt.

“And I don’t want them to die- they don’t deserve that, not because of me,“ he muttered.

“Percy, listen to me,” Sally gently pushed him away to look at him in his eyes, using her sleeves to wipe away his tears, “What matters isn’t in the future, but now. Regardless if you’re going to lose Y/N, make the best memories to look back on when they’re gone. That’s the meaning of life - to cherish it, and the limited time you have here with everyone you’ve ever met.”

Percy nodded at his mother words, smiling to himself at the thought of spending more time with you. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” she softly tussled his hair, “Now I’m going to set something up between the two of you to go hang out tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles, wiping away his own tears.

“Make sure to eat those cookies,” Sally reminded before shutting his door with a soft click.

YOU TOOK IN a deep inhale before angering the small café Sally had arranged you and Percy to meet. Prepared to face him with a look of defeat on his face you open the doors, and see him sitting in the back with a cup of hot chocolate warming his hands.

But he didn’t look sad like all the other times you tried to talk to him, he didn’t look dismissive, he looked like himself. He looked like Percy.

Seeing the face you had come to love the past year return didn’t make your heart flutter as it used to however. One of the only reminders of your true intentions behind accepting the invitation.

Walking over to the table, you take the seat across him and give him a small smile that you could muster.

“You’re not gonna order anything?” Percy asked, head tilted towards the chalkboard’s beautifully written on displaying the menu.

“No, I don’t feel like it,” you shook your head, “Um, Percy I just wanted to talk to you and I’m sorry.”

Percy could feel his heart drop the moment you said those words. His head kept on making up words and phrases of what you were going to say next - anything but what he knew you were going to say.

“I just don’t think we’re going to work out,” you spoke in a soft and gentle tone, “I don’t regret the time spent with you, but it would be better if we no longer saw each other. Romantically, at least.”

It took every once ounce of Percy’s body to spill out tears from the corners of his eyes but he managed to choke out, “I understand.”

“Thank you, for everything Percy,” you hung your head low, beating yourself up for hurting the boy in front of you who had already been through so much, “I hope to see you around.”

And just like that, you exit the café as Percy’s eyes trail your figure from the window until you disappeared around the block. It doesn’t take long for the nearest fire hydrant to burst open, water spewing out when his eyes couldn’t.

A/N: did I manage to make you guys feel something? also, my 200 follower event is currently ongoing so please feel free to request!!

#rin’s 200 follower event [🧸]#rin’s shots 🤎#pjo asker anon #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x gn reader #angst #pjo angst #comfort/hurt

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dark-night-hero · 6 months

Note

Hey so I found the little drabble you wrote about Morax sacrificing Y/n for the world? And it gave me this scene of a Y/n being forced to pick between him and the world, and they choose him? And it would hurt. And I'd like to see it written in your style of angst, if you ever write it at all, because i think it would be cool. have a good day/night heart🧡

: I know I'm very late but this gives me the idea of the prequel of the world > you of Morax|Zhongli imagine.

Imagine being in a situation where you have to sacrifice the world for your love one. What would you do? Would you choose to do the greater good for others or for yourself? The answer for you is quite obvious. It would be Morax over the world.

Imagine the Archon War leaving a mental toll on your mental health, constantly seeing your lover fighting, seeing him fight for his and your dear live as well as both of your people. But what leaves you the scar the most is seeing him get hurt, although he was powerful and fearsome, that doesn't mean that he does not escape close call encounter. At times like that, you have nothing to do but to watch there and stood in horror, thinking how much of a baggage were you that you cannot even fight side by side. Because even for a supreme being, you are weak.

Imagine it wasn't just the war that took a toll on you but also the mortals. You have seen people turning their back on their Gods, you have seen people revolts on their Gods, Gods who have done nothing but to protect them and some have lost their lives upon doing so. How fucking cruel and disgusting creatures were they. And how thankful you are that your people were different. That is why this thoughts and memories remained on the back of your mind.

Imagine, or so you thought as you day you have awoken up from a dream, drenched on cold sweat as your heart hammered on your chest. It was a dream- no a nightmare- no... It was a vision. It was a prophecy of your lovers death. Died and assassinated by his-your own people.

"Love?" It was your lover who seems to have been awake.

"Are you alright? You're dren-" You cut him off as you embraced him and he chuckles before turning your embrace, giving you a tap on the back for more comfort.

"Was it a bad dream?" He asked as pull you even more closer to him, taking you in his arms as you could only tighten your hold on him.

"It's alright, Love. I'm here, it's just a dream."

Imagine the truth is that you love your people more than anything, you love them just right after Morax, your lover. That is why you decided not to pay attention to that vision. Because you knew more than anything that your people respect and worship him more than anything.

Imagine Morax should have seen the signs. The way you less and lesser interact with the people. The more you seems cautious of the way they view and talked about him. The way you stay up all night and seems to be lacking of sleep. The way the look of gentleness in your eyes seems to fade the more you look at the people you vow yourself to protect. The way you were slowly falling and experiencing signs of erosion.

"What did you just say, you low life piece of utter shit?" You glare at the man, wanting to snap off his neck if it wasn't for your lover holding you back from doing so.

"I- I was just telling the truth! It's not like Rex Lapis is all that great and might- hick!"

"It's not like I did not heard you the first time. What I'm tying to say it that, do you, know the consequence you have to face for saying such-"

"That's enough, (First name). I would like to apologise on behalf of my lover, they were just.."

Imagine becoming aware that you were losing yourself but it was already too late. All the sleepless nights, the visions that kept showing up and hunting you. The way the people in your vision- your prophecy doesn't even seem to mind that Morax have died. The way the people talks about him these days. The way your memories of the archon war and the people back in those days does not seem to think twice turning their back and raising their weapons on their own beloved Gods.

Imagine one day, you snap. Walking in the city with your fake persona. There comes the man who was just talking shit about Morax on the other day. And the nerve of this man to continue to convince you that he was in fact right, that the world is better off without the Archons, specifically Morax in it, the God of War. The one who seems to have killed the God he was formerly worshipping. The one who according to him should have died instead.

Imagine as his words went one ear to another, you smile at him before talking and convincing him to go on a remote area where no one could see the two of you and of course, bewitched by your beauty, how could he not come with you. Only to get himself killed not even a second the moment the two of you reach your promised location. And during those very moment, the way you look down at your blood stained hand. The way a smile crept up on your lips as a strange sense of satisfaction came into you.

"This is fun." You spoke looking at the bloody scene.

"This is what you get for assume you know better to turn your back against by beloved."

Imagine Morax becoming aware of the missing and killing of people within your land. But what raised his concerns the most is that you don't even seem to mind, but at least you were not going feral as you were quite some time now. So he brush it off and went to investigate only to find out that most of the people declared missing and dead were people who were talking bad about him. Most of those people were refugees of the wars and were formerly worshipping other Gods before him. Nevertheless it was still suspicious and wrong. You have always made it clear with him that people, mortals were fragile being, that is why you should protect them.

so Imagine the horror on Morax face once he have seen you, in the midst of the burning remote village, a bloody child in your hand, grabbing it on the neck as you held it up within your level, a smile on your face which become even more bright one you have seen him when it pained him even more than to see you this way. How could he have not notice this? You were always together, how could he have not notice you were slowly losing youself?

"Wha-" His voice cracked as his mind tried to came up hundreds if not thousand of reason why you have come into this conclusion.

"What- why are you doing this?"

"They were planning a rebellion Morax, how could I not let this slide?"

"No... no no no no no no no. My Love, what happened to you?"

"Huh? You're asking strange things Morax." Your eye twich as you drop the child on the ground without care.

"Let me handle this kind of things. There is no need for you to lift up a finger okay? I'll keep you safe so let's go home, okay? Thought I'll have to come back and clean up for the rest of them so their is nothing to harm you."

Imagine the moment you tried to walk towards him, you stopped at the way his iconic weapon, a pole arm appeared. Then a smile makes it's way on your lips as you clasp your bloody hand together.

"Oh Morax! I appreciate you trying to help but there is in no need of that-?"

Imagine the look of confusion in your face. The way his weapon was pointed at you, you tilt your head to the side, a look of confusion and hurt could be seen in your face. And then there was anger.

"I am doing this for YOU whaT GIVES YOU THE NERVE TO POINT YOUR WEAPON AT ME?" You screamed at him, sending glares on his way as he looks at you emotionless. As if all emotion of him were turned off.

"Doing this for me? Do you think that was enough reason to do this? To cause this?"

"They were trying to revolt against you! They were trying to kill you! Do you think I want this?! I kept having visions! I kept hearing voices! And every single damnn time they were trying to kill you! And you died! Living me alone! I could not handle that! So before everything of that come true, I'll kill them. I'll fucking get rid of them. So don't be mad at me okay? I'm doing this for you, for us." You smile sweetly at him.

Imagine Morax having a mental breakdown at those very moment. The way he was tightly holding his pole arm as you approached him with a sweet smile on your face and damn. How lovely you were in the midst of the burning town and the countless lives taken away by your very own hands.

Imagine him, one of the seven archons praying and begging at these very moment. Oh celestia. Not you, god fucking damn. Not you. This was just a dream, none of this was true. But damn, the way he felt someone, another child clinging on his feet, murmuring cries of help. He swallowed back a sob. Oh celestia, what could- what should he do?

Imagine the way his hand shake, the way he took a deep breath before leaving his chaotic mind behind. His hands were still shaking, but he held his firmly up on your direction. The way you start to emits black smoke as well as the cracks on your face says it was already too late to save you. And as much as it pained him, as much as it fucking kills him to kill you. He has to do it.

"So this is it for us?" You spoke across him.

"No one's going to hurt me, Love."

"My vision says different and you know my vision was never wrong." You chuckle as you did not stop coming at him.

"I know what you're thinking. I don't regret it." The more you approach him, the more his heart ached.

"If I am to make choices over and over again, I'll do the same thing. If it means turning thr world outside the down, if it means burning the world for you, I will, Morax."

Imagine the way his amber iris were shaken as you walked right into his weapon that was preventing you from approaching him. The way his weapon easily and smoothly pierced your chest as he held it firmly.

Imagine the way his mouth close and open, looking down to his weapon and onto you. He saw you smiling as you pull away from the blade of the pole arm, stumbling a couple of stepps backwards but still retaining your balance. He knows that smile, fuck. He knows that smile.

"Celestia. Perhaps, I have done things too far." You spoke as you look down at your bloody hand and chest.

Imagine the way Morax hold back a sob, the way his throat burns as he can't seem to find the right words to say to you. And at the very end, he could only lower his weapon as he utter the words he wanted you to know even after all of this.

"You know I love you, right?"

: Hi, sorry if this takes too long to make. College seems to drain me out but I'm glad to answer this ask that I have been thinking for quite some time now.

#dark night hero #genshin impact #genshin imagines #ask #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fanfic #genshin angst #angst #genshin zhongli #zhongli angst #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #morax x reader #genshin impact morax #genshin morax #zhongli x reader

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mochiknows · 2 months

Text

Nesta and Azriel were out of character in HOFAS

Bryce almost kills them twice.

Bryce try’s to escape Nesta and Az by getting the Wyrm to kill them. Then she feels bad about it so she goes back to help them, and they’re all like “yeah, it’s cool no biggie.” (Like what!? She just proved that she cannot be trusted!)

THEN she releases a fuckin’ Daglan/Asteri into their world THAT SHE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO KILL YET!! AND Nesta is the one to kill it and fix Bryce’s mess!

And then steals Azriel’s dagger and fucks off???

You are telling me that Nesta STILL gives her the mask!? I understand that SJM was probably trying to make it a kindred spirit kind of understanding between Nesta and Bryce but I don’t believe it.

The Nesta I know would be raging over her people being endangered by this rude stranger. Her character is very defensive and protective of her friends/family.

To me, Nesta and Azriel seem like the two IC members who would immediately take no chances with this stranger. They’ve both shown themselves to be the type to keep their guard up, “bite first ask questions later” kind of people.

Also I thought that the sword and dagger “reuniting prophecy” would mean Prynthian and Midgard uniting to fight the Asteri together. Bryce was so high on her own “chosen one” shit when she stole the dagger for herself. That prophecy could have been so much more but it fell flat.

I was excited about the multiverse thing and now I just want to forget it happened.

I feel icky.

#sarah j maas #house of flame and shadow #hofas #cc hofas #hofas spoilers #acotar #azriel #nesta acheron #nesta acotar #bryce quinlan #anti bryce quinlan #crescent city 3 #crescent city

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lovehealsandlovehurts · 2 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch's toy

pov: You’re a sorcerer at Kamar- Taj but instead of fighting The Scarlet WIitch you end up being seduced by her.

Warnings: 18+, oral (giving & receiving), fingering, degradation kink, mommy kink, pet names, pussy slapping, crying ( not negative ) being restrained, forceful grabbing, hickeys, praise, wanda manhandling you with her powers

word count: 2.3k

There you were, looking up to the sky and swallowing your spit. Perhaps if you haven’t read all the things about The Scarlet Witch prophecy you wouldn't be so terrified right now. You always adored Wanda Maximoff, she was in your top favourite avengers. You found her hot and admired her for fighting on the team, however you weren't sure that was the same woman who looked down at everyone from above. You couldn't lie, you fantasized about her, and thought about what it would feel like to press your lips against hers, touch her skin, or have her touch you. It was at this time that you felt guilty for having all those thoughts, having to face the danger ahead.

There was anger in the witch's eyes, but also confidence, in what she was about to do. You held up your shield as you watched her try to break through, and she eventually did so, destroying everyone and everything in her way. You had no choice but to run and hide inside, waiting for what was about to happen.

You walked into an almost empty room, filled only with a few pieces of furniture and books to study, you tried to escape from the ashes and the screams of your former sorcerers. You sat down, letting your back roll down the floor, accepting defeat. You heard whispers coming into the room, but there was nobody there. The voice sounded familiar, the language was Slavic, and the tone hypnotizing. Suddenly the door closed and you got up, trying to figure out if someone had locked you in. You turned around, only to jerk up at seeing Wanda Maximoff. She looked beautiful, even like this, in the middle of a battle that she had already won. Her headpiece highlighted her cheeks so well, and the dark makeup brought out the green in her eyes. Her boots were full of dust and her fingertips were dyed black. “Wanda-” you tried to speak before her hand found a way to cover your mouth. “Shh…” she whispered, her head tilting, trying to see if someone’s breaking through the door, but nobody was. You thought of so many things to say, you’ve heard about her and Westview, and that she lost her children, and husband, everyone knew. You wanted to say something comforting, something that would help her heal but deep down you knew nothing you say would change her mind from what it was on at that moment. Her hand was still stuck on your mouth, it was like she was waiting for you to scream but you didn’t. She took her hand off. “Wanda, I-”- you said, trying to form a sentence, god she was intimidating up close. You saw a smirk form on her face, a spark of red in her eyelids disappearing, you wondered what she’s done.

“I can read your thoughts,” she said, her voice cracking. You wanted to hate her, but you couldn’t, a part of you sympathized with her, despite all she’s done. “All of your thoughts,” she said, looking into your eyes. Suddenly you felt weak in your knees and you hated yourself for the feeling. “I-” you didn’t know what to say, you wondered if she could have reached deep into your mind, seeing all the things you fantasized about. You felt yourself getting hot, wondered, if you were visibly blushing. She smiled, getting closer. It was like she was giving herself a break, from all the adrenaline and chasing others. “You’ve got quite the imagination,” she said, her voice turning into a whisper. “Wanda…” you murmured, swallowing your spit. “It’s not right, what you’re doing.” You managed to say, feeling satisfied that you’ve found a way back to your morality in all of this. She lifted her chin up, straightening her posture. “If something feels right, it most likely is,” she said, her hand grabbing your arm. Her touch sent shivers down your spine, making you feel weak once again. You wanted to disagree but your brain felt like it melted in her presence, you opened your mouth but nothing came out. The witch smirked once again, it felt like she was in your head, replaying your memories, feelings, everything that included her. You wondered if she felt flattered, disgusted, or aroused. Her reactions were the only thing that answered your questions, her lips slightly lifted before coming back down.

“Get on your knees” she whispered, her eyes finding yours. You knew she wasn’t using any magic on you but her presence made you want to do anything she said, without thinking about the consequences. She was hypnotizing, even without actually hypnotizing somebody. You followed her instructions, dropping down to the floor. She looked down at you, running her thumb along your face, her touch made you forget about everything that was going on. She put her thumb inside your mouth, and you closed your lips, sucking it in. “That’s right” she whispered, you could tell she enjoyed this and wondered what she’d do next. You saw magic forming around the palms of her hands, creating an opening in her pants, she didn’t even take them off, just cut the material to reveal the part between her legs. She looked so hot, you couldn’t think of anything else, your mind was in total subspace, awaiting her orders.

“Open your mouth,” she said, grabbing your head and pulling you closer to her. She practically sat on your face, holding onto your hair for support. You set your tongue on her clit, running it up and down her folds. You heard her moan and tilt her head back as you closed your eyes, and focused on the witch. You sucked her clit in, feeling her leave a mess on your face. She was so wet, and she seemed so touch starved. You wondered if she enjoyed being in control, knowing everyone will bend to her will. You wondered when was the last time someone touched her. “Right there” she whispered and you sucked her clit in and circled it with your tongue. She almost suffocated you but occasionally leaned back, allowing you to take deep breaths in as you continued. Her moans sounded so soft and powerful, they made your whole body tingle. You kept going, not being aware of the time passing by. She chased your touch with her hips, pulling you closer. She didn’t announce when she was about to cum, she just did, you felt her muscles tense up in your mouth and saw her whole body shake. She gave you a satisfying smile, looking down at you with awe. “That’s a good girl,” she said, patting your head. You felt yourself get wet, at the smallest sign of praise.

“Come here,” she said, lifting your chin. You got up, staring into her eyes, your mouth still wet. You saw her move her hand and in a matter of seconds, you found yourself pressed against the wall. Her magic was pinning you to it, red lights forming around your body. The witch began moving closer to you, studying your body. Her hands groped your chest, pinching your nipples, teasing them by rolling them back and forth. “Such a pretty girl” she said, you felt a heartbeat form between your legs, practically wanting to beg for her to touch you more. She leaned in and gave you a kiss, her tongue running into your mouth, tasting herself off of it. Her hands slid down your stomach, finding a way into your pants. “You’re so wet,” she teased, her mouth stayed open and you could feel her breath on your lips. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? having your holes filled by mommy?” you heard her whisper as your panties dropped to the floor along with your pants. Her fingers entered your pussy and you saw her smirk as you closed your eyes at the sensation. “Fuck” you managed to whisper. Her grip was strong, she moved slowly at first, teasing you, you had a feeling she enjoyed doing so, seeing the corners of her lips lift. You felt her breath move to your neck as she moved her fingers in and out of you. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, she felt so good, being restrained by her felt so good, unlike anything you have imagined. “Stay quiet,” she said, increasing her pace, you felt your walls clench around her fingers. “You don’t want anyone to hear what a slut you are, do you?” she mocked you, and you only felt yourself getting more soaked. “Be good for mommy” she said, not stopping. You did everything you could to hold your moans in, letting them escape in the form of grunts as you clenched your teeth tight. “Let me cum” you managed to whisper, feeling your orgasm come and drift away as she changed her pace. “Please...” you added, feeling yourself get to the edge, tears forming in your eyes. “I’ll let you cum when I want to,” she said, kissing your neck. You felt her suck on it violently and were sure that it would leave a mark. She kissed the side of it, moving down to your collarbones. Despite the teasing she quickened up her pace, making you a mess, your thighs were soaked, and you were ashamed of how wet she had made you. She was a villain you were supposed to be fighting after all. “That’s right,” she said, her voice satisfied, as she felt your muscles tense and watched your body tremble. You dropped down to the floor, her magic easing up the fall. You loved the look on her face, she looked so pleased with you, her eyes open wide. She watched you gasp for air as you sat on the floor, looking up at her.

“I want to taste you,” the witch said, she dropped down to her knees, and spread your legs open with her magic. She looked up at you and you felt your heart stop for a moment, catching her stare. Wanda set her mouth on your clit, sucking it in. You’ve never felt as desperate as you did then, her tongue made you roll your eyes to the back of your head. Your thighs began to shake at the sensation. “Wanda-” you let out a soft whine, as you felt your body getting hot. Wanda's hands found a way to hold onto your thighs as she drew patterns on your clit with her tongue, moving her head up and down and side to side. You clenched your jaw again, not being able to hold back the moans, you wondered if someone had heard you, or if she placed a spell on the room, one that prevented people from locating her. She took her mouth off of you, just to slap your already sensitive pussy, you jerked up at the sensation, clenching your wrists tight. You were sure if there was something you could hold onto, you would’ve ripped it apart by now. “Quiet, be a good slut” she ordered, sliding two of her fingers into you. You nodded your head, tilting your head back. You couldn’t help but let your mouth open, letting out a soft whine. Wanda placed her mouth back on your sweet spot, moving her fingers in and out of you. You could barely handle it, the combination of your inner and outer holes being taken care of by her. You grabbed onto her hair, pulling her head closer to you. “Please” you whispered again, as you got lost in the feeling of her taking care of your body. She quickened up her pace, making your thighs tremble. You felt your whole body shiver and your muscles release as you cummed with her inside of you. You took your hand off her hair, tucking some of it being her ear, as you tried to catch your breath. “Such a good girl,” Wanda said, coming closer to you to stroke your face. “I think I should make you my personal toy,” she said, smiling, a spark of evil running through her eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said, running her fingers through your thighs, they still trembled at the sensation. “Answer me,” she said, grabbing your cheeks into her hands, and forcing you to look up at her. “Yes…” you whispered, you wanted to kiss her, her lips looked so soft, glowing in the lighting. You moved closer, and desperately pressed your lips against hers, they tasted like you, and a mix of sweat and chapstick. You wrapped your arms around her neck and didn’t want to stop but you did eventually, as you tried to catch your breath. She smiled, stroking your face with her hands. “You’re such a cute thing,” she said, a smile forming on her face. She pulled you closer to her arms, and you laid your head on her chest, her hand stroking your hair. How could you not love her? where she seemed so lovable? Yet so cruel and mad at the same time. You looked for the good things in her to try and justify all the bad she’s done. You felt guilty for lying in her arms, but the guilt washed away as the comfort of her touch settled in. You wondered when she’d leave and if you’d ever see her again.

Some time passed by, enough for you to be able to breathe normally, your body recovering from her touch. “I have to go,” she said, her voice low and husky. “No” you managed to say, quicker than you were able to think. You hated how pathetic you sounded, a sense of defeat in your voice. She caught your gaze, and looked into your eyes for a minute, caressing your hair. “This won’t be the last time I see you, I promise,” she said. You wanted to believe her so you did, but a part of you wondered if she was lying. “I have some things to take care of” the witch placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, giving you a tight hug. You wondered where she’d go next. She used her magic to create new clothes for you, covering up your lower body in newly made jeans. “I’ll see you again,” she said, getting up. You hated how losing her felt. You were too astonished to say anything, a part of you wondering if this is just some dream, a vivid imagination. You lifted your hand to wave at her, seeing her walk away. She smiled at you before doing so, and disappeared, not using the door. Your back pressed against the wall again, and you took deep breaths in, trying to recover from all that has happened.

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