#they don't deserve this any more than the women and children | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gureumz · 10 months

Text

grateful sinners

rating: explicit

member: jake

premise: growing up in a religious community (a cult?), you and your friend jake stumble upon "forbidden" media one day. of course, you know about sex but what the elders taught you was never this dirty. overcome with curiosity, you promise each other to never speak of what you're about to do to anyone.

notes: religious themes, implied cult behavior, slight (?) blasphemy, virgin!jake x virgin!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), first time, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, desperate touch-starved, jesus loving virgins tryna fuck

a/n: third of my 1k follower special! can you tell i have deep religious trauma? lmaoooo but this was rlly fun to write, if not a little tedious but i enjoyed it nonetheless! hope you do, too <3

the day was as beautiful as any other.

the early morning sun peeking behind the nearby hill, the smell of wet grass, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair.

you breathe in more of the valley air, letting your eyes close for a moment. everything is so still, hours and hours before the first worship of the day when the whole commune will surely come fully alive. at this moment, you're sure you're closer to God than ever.

a whispered prayer breaks the silence.

"i do not deserve such beauty before me, God," you mumble, eyes still closed. "but you are most merciful and i, a grateful sinner."

a silence, still. nothing or no one responds to your profession of gratitude, but that is to be expected. God works silently, as the elders say.

"i'm deciding if the beauty is on the horizon in front of us or in your face, ________," a voice breaks through, shattering the tranquil veil that envelops you.

you turn and you can't help the jolt in your chest. you grin widely and jake smiles back, hands in his pockets and his pants already soaked with morning dew from the grass.

"don't say that," you warn. "my mom might hear."

jake makes a show of looking around, gazing past you at the squat houses sitting peacefully without movement.

"i don't see her," jake says with a shrug. you laugh.

"you know how she hates it when people make light of God's word. your jokes are definitely her least favorite," you remind him, stepping closer.

jake eyes you. being noticeably taller and broader, it gives him the perfect view of your face as the dawn sun hits your delicate features.

his hair is messy, partly sticking to his forehead with the other half of his raven locks hanging over his eyes. you know his father would berate him for that. children of the pastor are expected to appear presentable in front of the whole commune as a way to honor God and his divine image.

but the commune is nowhere to be seen. it's just you looking.

and jake is used to you looking.

growing up together, with his mom and yours being close friends, your mother's unwavering devotion to the commune, and her undying support to jake's father's cause as pastor, it's no surprise that the two of you have been inseparable.

despite the clear division between the men and women of the commune, you and jake always found your way to each other. sneaking in glances, waving from afar before you start mass, and even despite your own mother's prudish ways, you know she felt at ease when jake was around you.

nothing has been said, but you're sure that when both of you reach the age of matrimony, you'd be wed to each other. you have to be.

"what are you doing out here so early?" you continue with a question, resisting the urge to toy with the wisps of hair on jake's temples.

you're forbidden to touch or be touched by any man that isn't your family. the only exception to this is his father, the pastor, free to lay his healing hands upon anyone he deems in need of it.

jake parts his lips to answer but pauses, as if choosing the appropriate thing to say.

"some of my friends and i wanted to hang out by the river," jake supplies, gesturing toward the general direction of the river just beyond the hill.

"doing what?" you ask. the men are usually tasked with heavy farm work in the morning. in your mind, a leisurely stroll by the river before all that labor seemed hardly reasonable.

jake hesitates again, now toying with his bottom lip, the plump, rosy skin growing even redder with every pinch jake delivers to it.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say, flashing jake a reassuring smile.

"i'm not lying," jake replies almost instantly, a nervous spark in his eyes. "we really were by the river. we were...looking at something."

you cock your head to the side. jake comes even closer and the hairs on your arm stand on end, the faint scent of jake's sweat and soap reaching your nose. if you reach out now, you could easily wrap both arms around him, pull him close, and never let go.

"jay's dad brings our harvest to the nearby city market, right? well, jay went with him yesterday and he nicked this...book or something from the gas station," jake rambles, fidgeting with his fingers.

your eyes widen.

"it was glossy and the pages smelled nice. we don't have those kinds of books here, don't we?" jake continues, but your ears have started ringing in alarm.

"jay stole? jake, you know he needs to confess and repent," you whisper, taken aback.

jake gives you a look and you nearly tremble at the intensity in his irises. without warning, jake lets his fingertips graze your arm, instantly pulling away right after. you flinch, cradling your arm against your chest as if you've been burned.

"it's wrong, i know, but...haven't you thought of breaking the rules, even once? some of the people here talk about all the exciting things they've seen or done before, all because they broke one small rule. do you ever stop to think that it could be...fun?" jake questions, voice low. his eyes are wide and shaking, darting to and fro as if committing your whole face to memory.

"i—," you begin, unsure of what to say. you have thought of asking, even begging your mom to let you out into the city for one day. to see all the outsiders and their strange clothes and loud music.

but you could never go through with it. your mom would tell the pastor of your sinful curiosity the minute the words would leave your mouth.

"stealing is not breaking one small rule," you protest.

jake huffs out a breath. "aren't you tired of all of this? all of this forbidden stuff?"

you shake your head, trying to wrap your head around the words coming out of jake's mouth.

"your father's the pastor, jake," you say, voice trembling. "how could you..."

"the book had these pictures," jake cuts in, voice picking up as if it excited him to recount what he saw.

"the women in the book...they were naked."

you take a step back, clamping a hand down on your mouth.

"jake, what's gotten into you?" you question, heart beating wildly.

"i just want to know about the outside world, ________," jake reasons, running a hand through his hair.

"it's not as bad as the elders make it out to be," jake continues. "i haven't burst into flames, have i?"

you merely stare, uneasy at how blatant jake is about his sinful acts.

"do you want to see? i could borrow it from jay," jake offers, voice dropping to an even quieter whisper.

you stand there, a million different thoughts running through you. in all honesty, you wanted to take a look, never having seen any naked body other than your own. but even now, knowing that she was nowhere near, you could feel your mother's burning gaze on you. disappointed, intimidating, warning you to be a good child of God or face the wrath of hell.

you know this is wrong, or so you've been told. jake is treading a dangerous path and he seems adamant on roping you along. and yet...

"yes," you answer before you could stop yourself.

"b-but wait! how are you going to show me? we have to be careful," you hurriedly add, glancing around in case anyone was near enough to hear the atrocities you and jake are talking about.

"there's a secret back room in one of the barns. i go there to rest during breaks or after work and no one else ever goes there," jake hurriedly says, crowding back into your personal space. you notice the slight shake in his hands and the way his ears redden.

"o-okay," you say with a nod. "when?"

"later tonight," jake offers.

"during supper, we can sneak out while everyone else eats," jake continues. you feel his fingers on your arm again and this time, jake lets his whole hand flatten against the sleeve of your dress, his warmth seeping down to your skin.

you gasp, but stay frozen. jake's other hand lays on your waist and you shake uncontrollably, both terrified and excited at the prospect of jake touching you.

jake pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. he's breathing just as hard as you.

"you know, i thought about...if you would look the same as the women in the book," jake murmurs, eyes closed.

you shiver. you should be appalled, disgusted by how jake is acting now, but all you feel is a warm, bubbling feeling in your abdomen and an insatiable itch to clutch at jake's clothes.

"jake, we can't—," you begin, but the deep toll of the church bell interrupts you, signaling the start of the day.

you and jake spring apart, knowing that the whole commune would be outside in a matter of minutes, heading off to their designated duties for the day.

before you could get another word in, jake rushes forward, kissing you. you gasp, but as if on instinct, your hands grasp at his face. a second later, you thread your fingers through his hair, the strands offering little resistance as you gently tug, just as you've always dreamed of doing. but as quickly as it started, jake pulls away, pushing you back at the same time.

"tonight," jake breathes out, walking backward. "at dinner. the last barn to the left."

you nod once, pausing for a moment as you watch jake tread further away from you. you wave before sprinting toward your house.

your mother would be in the kitchen. you would be assigned with peeling the oranges. or cooking the eggs. or buttering the toast.

to you, at this moment, it didn't really matter.

all your eyes could see, all your heart could feel is jake.

---

dinner was a tense affair.

your mom questioned your uncharacteristic early start this morning, and all you could do was supply a pathetic lie about wanting to see the rose garden started by some of the older women in the commune.

she made a point to warn you to be on time for dinner. you felt an uneasiness settle in your stomach at this, thinking of all the ways your and jake's plan could go wrong.

but rushing out of the mess hall now, legs pumping as you dash through the field toward the barns, all of your worries melt away.

you remember the kiss, jake's fingers digging into your side, his smooth hair in between your fingers.

having separate dining halls for the men and women, you weren't sure when jake would be there, but you decided you had to leave as soon as you can. you feigned a stomachache to your mother, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

you knew this was yet another lame excuse, but you went the rest of the day without seeing jake. you were subjected to teach the younger ones about scripture today at the school, but all you wanted was to feel jake again. to see him. to touch him.

you slow down as you approach the barns, jogging over to the last one to the left. your breathing is heavy, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. another shiver of excitement goes through you as you push the barn door open.

the barn is one of the unused ones, a single light turned on at the very back. you walk toward the dim bulb, the glass-encased fluorescent hanging precariously by a thin wire.

you realize quite belatedly that jake never gave any specifics on how to find the secret room. but just then, you hear a faint shuffle to your left. despite the darkness, you can make out the faint outline of a head peeking out from behind a stack of hay.

"jake," you whisper, crossing the space between you in long strides.

jake emerges from the shadows, an easy smile on his face.

"it's back here," jake ushers you behind the tower of hay, his hand easily finding yours. "hurry, before anyone sees us."

you tighten your grip on jake's hand, the same feeling of exhilaration building up within you. you watch as jake approaches the section of the wall that's hidden behind the hay, pulling open a flimsy door that's half your height, cleverly disguised as part of the wall. inside, you can barely make out the soft flickering of candlelight.

jake nudges you forward. "it's a tight squeeze but it's comfortable enough inside."

you crouch, laying your hands on the dirt floor to steady yourself. you scurry forward through the door and emerge on the other side.

the space inside the room is enough for two, tall enough for you to stand in. you straighten up, dusting yourself off. jake follows inside, shutting the door behind him.

you look around and spot a metal box in one corner next to the single candle burning. a blanket is spread out on the ground.

"here," jake says, pulling you gently towards the blanket. you sit down, perching yourself right across jake.

jake takes hold of the metal box, unlatching the lid. inside, you can see a number of trinkets and other objects.

"are those...cigarettes?" you ask in disbelief. jake chuckles, brandishing the red and white box.

"found them in dad's safe," jake replies nonchalantly. "this one, too."

jake holds up a glossy rectangle, flipping it so it faces you. you let out an audible gasp.

"a phone? but we're not allowed phones," you say, letting jake place the device on your palm.

"i know. but that's my dad's. you know how the elders are the only ones allowed phones. so, i took his." jake is grinning now, the candlelight casting sharp shadows across his handsome face.

"but, how? doesn't he notice? what's in it?" you rattle off, turning the phone over in your hands.

"i bring it back every night once i'm done exploring what's inside," jake explains. he reaches over, pressing a button on its side. a moment later, it lights up, momentarily blinding you with how close you're holding it to your face.

you stare in awe as the screen comes alive. it dims after it fully turns on, displaying in big, blocky letters the time of night.

6:51

supper would be over soon.

jake takes the phone from you, setting it down on the blanket between you two.

"we can look at that later," jake reassures. "i got the book from jay at lunch today."

you swallow as jake pulls out the book from the very bottom of the box. jake moves the candle closer and your eyes instantly go wide.

the front of the book is glossy, indeed, just like jake said it would be. but the woman pictured on it seemed too lifelike, as if she wasn't merely printed on paper. her tan skin is on full display, with nothing covering her body but a bathing suit, one you've seen outsiders wear the few times you've seen pictures of them.

the bathing suit is black, the neckline going down almost to her stomach. you see the side of her breasts peek out from the garment holding it in place, and from what you can see, her whole back seems to be bare.

your eyes drift down to her crotch, covered by a thin strip of fabric. she stands, legs apart, her hands on her waist, baring her entire naked body to the world.

the longer you stare, the hotter you feel. an ache between your legs starts to make itself known.

"there's even more inside," jake whispers, sidling up to you. he presses his shoulder against yours as he reaches over to flip the book open.

your eyes scan the text on the next page, coming across a word you don't hear or see often.

"magazine," you mumble. a memory pings in your head.

"mom told me about magazines. this is a magazine," you say in mild amazement. "she says they're full of lies and are forbidden in the commune."

"magazine," jake repeats, drawing out the word slowly. he flips through more pages, stopping at one with a woman pushing her naked chest out.

your heartbeat quickens. you trace your finger over the picture, passing over the image of her plump breast, perky with a pinkish hue around the nipple.

you recall the science classes at the school. the teacher had recited the parts of the woman's body in a flat, monotonous voice. nipple. areola. vagina. cervix. she drilled it in everyone's head that these parts are not to be said aloud outside of the classroom.

"mine doesn't look like that," you comment absentmindedly. "they're not as...round."

you look up to see jake staring intently at you. his eyes drift down to your chest and you feel a new wave of heat wash over you.

jake licks his lips as he shifts closer, and as if compelled by his own actions, you do the same, facing jake fully.

you touch the buttons on the front of your dress.

you know what you're about to say and do next is beyond sinful. but you've already crossed the line the second you laid your eyes upon the magazine. a strange desire bubbles up inside you.

"do you want to see?" you ask quietly, watching jake's expression carefully.

"can i?" jake asks back, peering into your eyes. you can smell him again, faint lavender adding to the mix of his scent. you imagine jake in the bath, naked, water and bubbles washing over his skin.

you shudder involuntarily.

"yes," you breathe out.

you start to undo your dress, hands shaking. you've never done this before. you're forbidden to. you know God watches you now with disdainful eyes, but you can hardly find it in you to care.

you undo the last button, pulling the sleeves of your dress down and off your arms. the night is chilly and you shiver as the air meets your skin.

unmarried women in the commune are advised not to wear bras as they are still considered pure and innocent and in no need of such womanly garments.

so you sit, barechested in front of jake, shaking in the cold, in anticipation, in mild fear.

jake's jaw goes slack, taking in the image in front of him. he glances back at the magazine before returning his gaze to your own breasts. you resist the urge to cross your arms.

instead, you reach over, delicate fingers wrapping around jake's wrists. you guide them up, stopping right above your waiting chest.

"here," you whisper, but your voice sounds strangely loud in the silence of the night. "touch me, jake,"

you place his hands over your mounds and you gasp at the abrupt warmth. jake chews on his lip, fingers softly kneading your skin.

"do you touch yourself like this?" jake asks, eyes still wide in amazement and curiosity. he gives a light squeeze and you whimper, covering your mouth to stop yourself from crying out.

"sometimes," you say, voice slightly muffled behind your palm. "in the bath. when no one's looking."

jake exhales, pulling his hands back momentarily. he lines his pointer finger with your nipples, flicking up experimentally. you groan, throwing your head back.

"it feels good," you breathe out. "jake, it feels good all over."

jake pinches your nipples and you yelp, falling forward against jake. he catches you, cradling you to his chest. you breathe onto his neck, a warm stickiness pooling under your skirt.

"touch me, too," jake says right in your ear. he guides your hand on his crotch and your fingers curl around something stiff.

"please," jake implores, voice high and almost whining.

you watch in fascination as jake strains against his trousers. you caress up and down, feeling him harden even more under your touch. jake squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"sit over me," jake commands, pulling you onto his lap. there's a loud roaring in your ears as something overtakes your body completely.

"keep touching me and i'll do the same," jake instructs, returning his hands to your chest. he curls his fingers into your flesh and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

you take ahold of jake through his pants, squeezing and rubbing. jake is bucking into your hand, small breaths escaping his lips.

your head is spinning, your cheeks are flushed, and a faint guilt tugs at your chest. but you've thrown all care out the window, the only thing on your mind being jake's rough fingers tugging and pinching and grabbing at your breasts.

the bubble of heat in this little room breaks when you hear the dark notes of the church bell ringing, marking the end of supper.

you gasp, pulling away from jake as he does the same. you hurriedly button up your dress, trying to calm your breathing. jake gathers the things strewn on the floor, tossing them back into his box.

you stand, smoothing down your dress and tucking your hair back behind your ear. no words are spoken as jake blows the candle out, pushing the door open to free both of you.

you scramble out of the small space, heart still pumping wildly against your chest. you feel jake's hand rest on one side of your face, urging you to look at him.

"meet me by the river early tomorrow," jake says, now holding your face with both hands.

you blink, unsure of what to say. the rush of blood is still loud in your ears and all you want is for jake to touch you again. to keep touching you.

to touch you forever.

"please," jake adds, running his thumb over your bottom lip. you quiver at the action, stilling only when you feel him press his lips against yours.

your lips part and so does his, and as if guided by something else, your tongues move into each other's mouths, licking and sucking and breathing into and from each other.

you feel dirty, sinful even. but you start to wonder why you cared so much in the first place.

"tomorrow," jake repeats, pulling away.

the bells toll even louder. you run out of the barn without a second thought, eyes dancing with excitement, lips tender, and one single button of your dress undone.

---

you toss and turn all night.

flashes of jake invade your mind, pulling you out of sleep just as you feel yourself drifting. the way he breathed against your face. the stiffness in your hand. the pleading in his voice.

you prayed, too. prayed to God for forgiveness, for mercy. but you prayed for jake, too. to feel his lips again, to have his hands on other parts of your body.

you cry, quietly and pathetically, ashamed in the face of God. ashamed because the arousal hasn't left you. it burns almost painfully and you wish and you pray and you beg for morning to come.

you glance at the clock next to your bed and see that it's half past five a.m. you ran into jake at six yesterday, so he should be at the river by now if you're to go off of that.

you quickly dress yourself, careful to keep your movements precise and quick so as to not wake anyone in your house.

you practically float down the stairs on your toes, nimbly avoiding all the loose floorboards you know would make a sound.

you steal one glance back inside your house before taking off. you walk at first, trying to calm your nerves, but you build up to a run once you pass through the fence's gate, feeling the morning air whipping at your face.

the climb up the hill, usually a strenuous effort on your end, seems like nothing on this day, your legs taking you over it in no time.

you can see the river now, and you see the faraway figure of someone hunched over, sitting on the riverbank. excitement rips through you and you're running, running faster than you've ever had.

jake hears you before he sees you, your breathing loud and labored and your boots stomping against the wet grass. he turns to see you slowing down to a jog as you approach him.

he stands, wordlessly meeting you as you sink into his arms.

you kiss and the roar of desire is back, a single flame flickering in the blue-hued, early-morning world that surrounds you.

jake pulls you towards an area behind a large tree, and you see that the same blanket from last night is laid out on the grass. without parting your lips, jake pulls you down with him on the spread-out cloth, laying you down.

"i watched things on dad's phone last night," jake admits, kissing your jaw. you squirm underneath him, his lips sending a ticklish sensation over you.

"i watched people do it," jake murmurs against your skin, lips dragging down your neck.

"i watched them make love."

you pull jake away from where he's kissing you behind your ear, a questioning look on your face.

"you can...watch people make love? on the phone?" you ask meekly, trying to understand how some people can let such a sacred act be seen by anyone other than themselves and God.

jake nods, hands smoothing up your sides. "yes. and they do it so loudly, so roughly, so vulgarly. not like how we're taught."

you stare, wide-eyed. "what?"

"they curse a lot," jake adds. "and they call on God's name so much. we're told to never do that unless in praise."

your breath hitches when you feel jake smooth his hands over your clothed chest. you feel your nipples stiffen under his touch.

"what if it felt so good to them, they needed to call on God?" you whisper. jake ponders on this for a moment, eyes scanning over your face.

"i want to feel as good as them," jake finally says. he starts to undo your dress, the same way you did last night.

"we're going to...to make love?" you ask as jake slots himself between your legs. you feel the same stiffness from last night press up against your thigh.

"please," jake responds, pulling your dress open. your nipples are taut, begging to be touched.

jake dips his head down, latching his mouth onto one of your nubs, sending your whole body spasming. you moan, a new kind of pleasure coursing through your veins. jake presses his hips onto yours, right between your legs and you nearly cry at how good the pressure feels.

you push your core against jake's own crotch, swiveling your hips around trying to find the delicious friction you felt.

"i want to, please. i want to, so bad," jake pleads against your chest.

jake bunches your skirt around your torso, exposing your lower half and the thin, white, commune-approved underwear you have.

"please," you whine, not even sure of what you're saying.

"me, too. make love to me, jake."

jake groans, sitting upright, hands already tugging at his belt. he undoes the buckle, unzipping his pants before pulling the garments down to his thighs.

you stare half in awe and half in curiosity as jake strokes himself a few times. a clear liquid spills from the tip and you feel your mouth involuntarily water.

"can i take this off?" jake asks, hooking a finger under the hem of your underwear. you nod, cringing slightly as you feel the sticky fabric pull away from your skin as jake discards of it.

"it's so wet," jake observes, reaching down to run a finger between your folds.

"ngh!" you cry out, twitching at the sudden contact. no one has ever touched you down there. you've never touched yourself down there other than to wash.

jake presses the pads of his fingers against your core, rubbing lightly. you throw your head back, thighs already shaking.

"does this feel good?" jake asks, pressing down harder. you nod again, unable to form any coherent thoughts or sentences.

"i saw that they did this," jake says before plunging a finger into your hole.

stars burst right before your eyes when you feel jake push his thick digit into you. the feeling is foreign, a weird pressure but pleasurable nonetheless.

jake pumps it in and out of you, observing your face as he does so. you open your eyes to meet his and you see jake's pupils blown wide, his whole face a light tint of pink.

"still good?" jake asks.

"yes," you gasp, your hips pushing off the ground as you try to chase more of this feeling.

"some of them...," jake begins, pausing his movements. you start to protest but your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel jake push in another finger.

"...use two."

a slight burn at the added stretch makes you wince, your hand coming down to grab jake's wrist.

"s-slowly," you supply, opening your legs wider. jake nods in understanding, moving his fingers at a gentler pace.

you mewl, feeling the drag of his knuckles against your inner walls. you're dizzy with pleasure, overwhelmed with the thought that something could feel this good.

"it keeps coming out of you," jake says in awe. "you're getting even wetter."

"it feels so good," you gasp. "jake, please."

"what should i do?" jake asks, leaning over you. you look up, jake's face right in front of yours. not knowing what else to do, you pull him down to you in a kiss.

jake moans against your lips, speeding up his movements in and out of you. you cry into the kiss, never wanting this feeling to end.

"i-i'll put it in," jake whispers into your mouth.

jake pulls his fingers out of you and you fight the instinct to whine. jake sits back on his heels, watching as you clench around nothing.

you see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of your dripping core, his hand coming down to pump at his shaft.

"it might hurt," jake warns. "that's what they told us."

you smile weakly. "us, too."

jake grins back at you, scooting forward to line himself up with you. jake presses the tip against your hole, watching for your reaction. he slides a little more in, and you let out a squeak.

"it's much bigger than your fingers," you say, with slight panic in your voice.

"i'm here," jake says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "you'll be okay."

you feel jake push in some more and your whole body jerks in surprise. tears prickle your eyes but you focus on evening out your breathing. underneath the evident sting, a steady throb of pleasure beats down in your core.

"it feels so warm," jake gasps out. "God help me."

jake sinks all the way in, unable to contain himself, and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling jake deep in you. you're afraid to move in case it starts to hurt more.

"f-fuck," jake curses, hips pulling back before sinking all the way in again. you cover your mouth with both hands, unsure of all the feelings you're having at the moment.

"i'm sorry," jake whispers, kissing your cheek, then your nose, then both of your eyes. "i-it feels too good."

"it's okay," you reply, trying to contain the tremor in your voice. "keep going. it feels better now."

and it does. the more jake moves, the more you could relax. jake hits a spot inside you that completely overrides the nearly unbearable stretch and it takes everything in you not to double over in surprise.

"again," you say. "just like that."

jake stops for a moment before repeating the angle in which he thrusted in you.

there it is again. a jolt of electricity goes through your abdomen and you shudder in delight.

"yes!" you cry out. "m-more."

jake picks up his speed, careful to keep it the same way you like it. it's as if the gates of heaven themselves have opened, showing you a world of pleasure you've never seen or experienced before.

the stretch has dulled now, and the fullness you feel adds to the coil in your stomach, tighter and tighter with each thrust.

you wrap your legs around jake's waist, wanting him, needing him closer.

jake lays himself over you, his chest pressed to yours, his hips moving nonstop. you've started to meet his movements, chasing something you're not quite sure exactly what.

"it does feel good," you manage to say between moans. "so good."

jake pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you.

"have you ever finished before?" jake questions. your eyebrows pinch together and you shake your head. jake slows down, grinding into you shallowly.

"finished?" you repeat.

"yeah, when you pleasure yourself, you finish," jake recounts. you shake your head again.

"we're not allowed to, remember? i've never touched myself that way," you admit bashfully.

"it's okay," jake reassures, kissing you softly. "you'll feel it here."

jake lays a hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down. you inhale, fingernails digging into jake's shoulder.

"move faster," you request. "but keep pressing there."

jake looks at you in bewilderment but follows nonetheless. he picks up his pace again, still keeping his hand on your stomach. you feel a pressure build up where jake is pressing and you feel your whole body shake.

"you're getting tighter," jake says through gritted teeth, trying to maintain his movements.

"s-sorry, feels too good," you apologize.

"i think i feel it," you add. "keep going, please."

this sends jake into a frenzy, hips snapping at a speed you can't keep up with. you let out a sob as you feel your entire being ignite with every push of jake's shaft in you.

"i can feel myself," jake points out. "i can feel myself through your belly, God."

the words confuse you but you look down to see jake protruding through your lower abdomen with every thrust. the sight sends your brain into overdrive and you moan your loudest as a white-hot current rips through you.

you vaguely hear jake groan as he roughly grabs your hips, keeping you in place. he pumps in and out of you a few more times before stopping. you continue to swivel your hips, squirming at the strange sensation that's taking over your body.

eventually, you relax, feeling strangely peaceful. you feel lightheaded but in the best way, as if you're floating on clouds.

jake grunts, pulling himself out of you. the sensation makes you cringe and you feel something drip out between your legs.

"is that—is that your seed?" you ask in mild disbelief, though still too out of it to care much.

"yeah," jake says, nodding, collecting the drops of himself that spilled out before poking his finger back in you.

"jake!" you protest, still much too sesitive.

jake pulls his finger out and grins at you. he settles beside you, pulling you onto his chest.

---

the church bell tolls not long after.

the early morning sun rises above the tree line, and if you were to stand on the other side of the hill, you would have watched the orange glow with amazement and bated breath.

there's a breeze that blows through your messy hair and the smell of morning dew on the grass is mixed with jake's lavender soap.

breathing in the valley air, another prayer falls quietly from your lips.

"we do not deserve your forgiveness," you say . "but you are most merciful and we, are merely grateful sinners."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jake smut #jake scenarios #w: jake

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bonefall · 9 days

Text

Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock

It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.

I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.

She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.

I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.

But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.

See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.

Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.

BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.

Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.

I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.

Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.

But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid

SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.

Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.

In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.

Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.

And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.

I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.

MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.

I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.

Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.

I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.

And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.

In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.

You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.

That's what makes her interesting, though.

I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile

why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.

Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.

It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.

But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.

One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.

Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.

But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.

And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.

But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?

What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.

And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh

We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.

We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.

AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.

We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.

But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?

Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.

It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably

I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.

Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also

#bone babble #Mapleshade #Mapleshade's Vengeance

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ameliawarnerr · 7 months

Text

Pov: Lilly needs dating advice + jealous Jake as bonus

Lilly: Do you think I should say yes to him?

MC: YES!

Cleo: What? No! He didn't even ask you. He straight out told you to come at whatever restaurant. You deserve better.

MC: No but his exact words were and I quote, “Lilly, if there's any chance that you are going say no, then it's not a question. You are coming on a date with me.”

Jessy: I’m sorry MC, but I agree with Cleo on this one. He should give a choice you know.

MC: Well, she can still say no, right? So it's still a choice. Why are you guys totally missing out the point that he is SO desperate for her!

Dan: Uhm, is this a "girls talk" or are we guys allowed to say anything?

Cleo: No, you are not. Shutup.

Lilly: Guys, I'm dying here. I don't know what to doooo

MC: See, guys. I never wanted to rub it in your faces but I'm the only girl with a relationship in this gc so Lilly, you know who you must listen to.

Jessy: Really, MC? That's how Jake asked YOU out?

Jake: Jessica, I’d like if you don't drag me into this.

Jessy: I didn't drag you, Jake. MC did.

MC: I'm just helping Lilly make the right decision. You guys are being too hard on this guy. My man is so desperate he might be dying rn

Jake: My man?

MC: Figure of speech, Jake, don't distract me. I'm trying to win an argument here.

Cleo: Guys, we are wasting the time. Lilly is supposed give him an answer.

Lilly: Okay, everyone. Shut up. We’ll put this up for a vote. Guys can vote too. Yes or no

Cleo: No

Jessy: No

MC: Yes

Lilly: Dan?

MC: Yes, Dan, what you say?

Dan: Uhm....yes?

MC: Yep. Right answer.

MC: Thomas? Is it a YES or a no?

Thomas: Yes, ig.

Cleo: MC is scaring the guys!

MC: Oh come on, they are grown ass men

Lilly: I don't have time for this. Jake? If you say yes, it's a clear majority. But if you say no, then we’d have to ask one more person

Jake: I think no matter how desperate he is, he should have still asked. Rather than tell you.

MC: JAKE?!

Cleo: hahahahhaha

Jessy: wjjwkjjw hahahah omg

MC: Alright, children. We need a deciding vote. And who could be better than a man who owns a bar and have known more women than anybody here?

Dan: Please don't say Phil

MC: Phil MF Hawkins, who else.

MC added Phil to the groupchat

Phil: Hi?

MC: Hey, sweetheart. We have a situation and you need to vote either yes or no. The situation: In desperation, a guy told lilly to go out with him rather than asking her, which clearly isn't a big deal. Should she go or not?

Phil: I mean, if a girl did that to me, I’d say yes

MC: YES!

Phil: That’s what you wanted me to say? :)

MC: You are so much more insightful than most people in this gc, Phil.

Jake kicked out Phil

Dan: Thank you!

Jake to MC

Jake: We need to talk.

MC: I’m sorry. Are you TELLING me that we need to talk rather than ASKING me if I want to talk?

MC: I’m afraid I’d have to say no

(oneshot in continuation to this particular conversation coming soon 😏😏)

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wri0thesley · 2 months

Note

Diluc and L, pretty please!

L - Lily (purity): “I shouldn’t taint you like this. Not when you’re so pure.”

cw: injury, dub-con, captive reader

You're trembling. Diluc is blood-stained, his jaw set stubbornly, his clothes a mess of blood and charred carbon and mud and Archon-knows what else. You shouldn't have done this, you think, as his hand grasps your chin in his, as his fingers sink into the soft flesh of your cheek. He takes a slow, shuddering breath.

"You want to clean me up?" He asks you again, and you curse yourself for your own stupidity. He is your captor, not your lover. It can be hard to remember, wrapped in luxury, brought breakfast in bed by maids and dressed in pretty morning gowns of fabric you could never have afforded before Diluc's attentions - those days when Diluc is not here, and you can imagine Dawn Winery is yours.

But you are, at the heart of it, his captive.

When he is at home, he broods through the house; tells you shortly that you're not to leave this room, you're not to go onto the balcony without anyone with you, you're not to eat that, or say this, or forget your manners again. He sleeps beside you, arms like vices around your waist.

But he has not been home for two weeks, and when you had seen him at the door to your shared chambers, his face bruised and his lip swollen and bloody and his entire body bowed with exhaustion . . . you had forgotten all of it in a moment of weakness, and the memory of who you were before Diluc had made this your life had come rushing to the forefront.

You had seen to plenty of men and women injured like this, when you were in the employ of the Church of Favonius, running their clinics. You had patched up children's knees and sewn shut the wounds of the Knights with the same sweet smile and gentle disposition. You had learnt what to say to men like Diluc, who gritted their teeth and insisted it did not hurt and they did not need your assistance even as they fell to their knees on the marble floor of the cathedral and you had to ask some of the sisters to help carry them into the infirmary room.

You could backtrack. Slink back into bed, shake your head, say something about the mess and the scent of the blood--

But you couldn't really, could you? Diluc had - at least, he says - fallen in love with you in those little backroom infirmaries, elbow deep in blood and medicines and bandages. He had looked at your soft smile and heard your gentle voice and, he says, thought you far too sweet and precious a thing to languish there, at the mercy of any rogue who could walk into the Cathedral and ask for sanctuary. He would know you were lying.

You give him a wordless little nod instead, your face still cradled in his gloved hand. A look flits across his own visage; something so sweet and adoring and disbelieving it makes your stomach twist.

"I don't deserve you," he rumbles, and truer words have never been spoken, as he lets you take him gently by the arm and tug him towards the adjoining bathroom. You ignore the muddy boot-prints on the floor; you try and will yourself to imagine the Cathedral around you. Nothing more than Master Diluc Ragnvindr, needing your aid - you think, as your fingers reach for the fastening of his shredded, tattered jacket and push it off the broadness of his shoulders.

He lets out a hot breath that reminds you that this is not just an ordinary day at the Cathedral; looks at you through half-lidded eyes as you busy yourself with running warm water into the basin, searching for cloths and sponges. There is nothing untoward kept in this bathroom - Diluc does not even shave in here, lest you get the wrong idea about something sharp - but there are, thankfully, enough cloths and a tiny bottle of antiseptic, so that you can clean the wounds on his already scarred chest even as he hisses.

He . . . isn't often undressed around you.

That, he tells you, he will wait for - big soulful crimson eyes trained on you. Until you're ready. Until you realise just how hard he is working to take care of you and you return to him the affection he knows you have in your heart. He would never, he promises, hand on his heart, force you to do anything--

He says, as if you are not forced to play house like a pretty little spouse in his luxurious winery already. He says, as if you are not forced to bite down your growls and hisses and sharp words about the life he has stolen you from. He says, as if you are not forced to pretend you are someone else lest you simply go mad.

His breath is coming out in pants as you work your fingers through the matted crimson strands of his hair. His cheeks have flushed beneath your careful, slow attempts to clean him and his wounds. He groans, chest-deep, as you swallow and reach for his trousers, where you can already see that a gash on his thigh has stuck the fabric to his skin.

"This is how I fell in love with you," he grunts, as you manage to undo it, as your cheeks burn with humiliation as you undress him and he sits there, placid and silent. "So . . . lovely. So . . . caring. Even to those who don't deserve it." You kneel before him, so you can check over the wound to make sure there is nothing stuck in it--

And your mouth goes dry and fear and disgust war in the pit of your stomach as you realise he's hard, the stiff outline of his cock pressing against his underwear. Diluc reaches out for you, one hand curling around your shoulder, another soft groan falling from his mouth as he looks down at you.

You freeze where you are. The moment shimmers between you, charged with possibility, and you find yourself reciting a prayer to Barbatos in your head over and over again, muddling over the words in a fever pitch that Diluc will keep his word--

But he's been off ever since he limped into the Winery. Muddled. A blow to the head? Whopperflower nectar? Some creature's venom, some spell from the Abyss? You don't know what it is, only that Diluc is looking down at you and there is a hot, burning kind of hunger that he usually tries to hide written clear in his crimson gaze.

"You're so pretty down there," He says, voice low and dark and husky. "I . . . I shouldn't taint you like this. Not when you're so pure."

"Diluc?" Your voice comes out thready and reedy, your body trembling like a harp-string. "Let me patch you up--"

"No," Diluc says, more to himself than to you. "I've waited so long--"

The hand on your shoulder curves upwards, thumb brushing your collarbone, your jawline. You curse the thin little morning gown you'd let Adelinde dress you in this morning, the square neckline a little risque - giving Diluc unfettered access to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat and your collar.

He's not interested in those, though. His thumb presses against the seam of your lips, instead. With a strength that an injured man should not possess, he uses his other hand to pull you closer at the same time as he hooks his thumb into your mouth, forcing it to open up.

Panic flaring in your mind. Diluc pulls your mouth open as wide as he can, uncaring that you're drooling - his eyes are somewhere far away now, as he mutters to himself--

"It's not so bad," he's saying, "I'm not . . . it's just your mouth, and I've been so calm, and you're so beautiful-- it won't . . . ruin you--"

"--'iluc--" You can't speak for his thumb in your mouth, for the saliva filling it, for the fear that runs through you as his other hand slowly goes to unbutton his placket as if in a trance.

"Shh," he says to you, and you have never heard a less reassuring hush. "It's alright, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. You offered, remember? I would never . . . force you to do anything--"

#ask game #drabble #yandere diluc #yandere for ts #not sfw text #dub con for ts #writing #genshin impact posting

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animentality · 1 year

Text

my main problem with terfs outside of the obvious issue is that they stand for nothing.

they don't care about women's rights. they don't care about intersectionality. they don't care about racism or feminism.

they don't care about changing the world for the better, or making anyone happy, or saving people from the fucked up world we all live in.

they have no fucking platform. they aren't pro abortion, they aren't pro choice, they aren't pro women, they aren't pro men, they aren't pro children.

they don't care about anything at all, not even themselves.

because they are the stereotypical high school mean girls, who spend their time cyberbullying because they're too chicken shit to bully anyone in real life.

they enjoy being nasty because there's something broken up inside of them that they don't want to examine.

they have no real goal. all they want is to take out their aggressions on an easy target.

because think about it like this, right???

a normal, happy, well adjusted human being with a family and friends is NOT spending their time harassing random bloggers like me and sending death threats and sharing rancid racist memes and lurking on /pol or reddit or twitter, harassing trans people who exist.

someone who has friends and hobbies and a life, is not spending their time being as horrible as they can to as many people online as possible.

Terfs are NOT people who have met other people. Who have things they feel positively about.

If they were, they wouldn't make their entire personality about hatred.

If they were, they wouldn't be fucking all over Tumblr, stomping down on any pro trans post they see.

if you, a regular person, are online and you say hey trans people are just people who want to live as they want.

and then you get a deluge of hate.

just remember that terfs are absolute fucking freaks. they are not normal people.

they are not people with jobs and boyfriends and girlfriends and a community of supportive people, because if they were, they wouldn't be on fucking line all the time, wasting their time trying to get reactions out of people.

they are attacking you not because they're defending anything, but because they have to attack. because they WANT to attack.

because they like being mean, because it's all they have.

because they feel fucked up, and they don't know why, and there's a million things wrong with their lives, but they don't know how to fix them.

and it's sad.

feel bad for them, for a second, and then worry about trans people, who deserve it more.

terfs are not worth your time.

what matters now is defending trans people, more than attacking terfs.

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reriart · 7 months

Text

While Your Lips Are Still Red

Summary: You suffer for what's happening in your life and you tried to put an end to it, but Astarion saved you.

Notes/TW: I wrote this fanfiction thinking about my Tav (female), but I wrote it gender-neutral so you can think about your OC (or you!) without any problems. The theme of suicide is the focus of this story, so if you are particularly sensitive to the theme and don't feel okay, please don't read it! I chose this topic because it is particularly dear and close to me. No one deserves to suffer and if you need it don't hesitate to contact a hotline. You are not alone!

There's also a bit of romance.

Please remember that English is not my native language.

Your sight grew darker and blurrier.

The bright stars in the sky, your only companions on nights when nightmares seemed to prevail, now seemed like many small, confused, and meaningless dots — the last, silent judges of your ruthless act.

You had decided to end everything: the story of the tadpoles, the absolute, the emperor... it was too much.

Your life had never been peaceful from the beginning, but the limit to how you could tolerate pain had become increasingly thin. You had tried every loophole possible, including considering joining Shadowheart in her crusade for Shar's honor; but just a few days before, you had convinced her to abandon the Lady of Loss and embrace her loving sister Selune. Because for her, your best friend, there was still hope, a glimmer of divine light ready to welcome her.

But not for you. Each fight had become more exhausting, each rescue mission more violent, soaked in innocent blood. The harpists, the tieflings. Children who would never play again, men and women who would never love again.

You should have rejoiced that you were still alive. To still be able to enjoy that great gift that life was. Yet now, cradled by the cold waters of the lake, not far from your sleeping companions, unaware of everything, your injured wrists let the red blood stain that crystalline liquid.

After making sure everyone was asleep (or in a trance, or on patrol, in Astarion's case), you had pulled your dagger from its sheath and used it on yourself right on the shore. You wanted to stab yourself and get it over with as quickly as possible, but you couldn't.

And now, at the mercy of the sweet waves, you waited for your moment. The moment when it would all end. You had managed to isolate the Emperor thanks to Gale, with the excuse of "I need a spell that silence everything for a few hours, or I won't even sleep tonight". A little suspicious, the wizard of Waterdeep finally granted your request. This way, none of your group would have the slightest signal from the tadpoles.

Your head felt lighter… it was like being drunk. A bitter smile spread across your face as your limbs grew numb, and your body grew colder and colder. The eyelids, however, became extremely heavy, as if there were a stone holding them down, and his heartbeat pounded in the eardrums like a war drum. The body became lighter and lighter but also heavier. The arms wanted only to go down, further down, towards the depths of the lake.

Your vision became almost completely blurred, your heartbeat infinitely slow: it was the end. One last breath and everything would have ended, if it hadn't been the rippling water and the cold hands (but warmer than your skin) that tore you away from the agonized embrace of death.

Thump-sounding words filled your head, but you didn't understand their meaning. A pale blob stood in front of you, squirming like a madman. A gasp came from your mouth as you recognized the figure. It was Astarion, visibly panicking. Perhaps thanks to the adrenaline of seeing him so agitated, you managed to understand his words.

"What the hell did you think?!" he almost screamed, lifting you out of the water to hold you. His gaze fell to your wrists which continued to bleed and you saw him swallow and clench his jaw. "I… one thing at a time. Now I have to think about getting you out of here, damn it." He rolled his eyes so as not to focus too much on your wounds, a temptation for him, especially after his failed hunt earlier. You didn't have the energy to reply, so you just let the elf pick you up, your eyelids too numb to allow you to look at him. You could only see his worried look, his milky white eyebrows furrowed.

Once you reached the shore, you felt Astarion spinning around. “If I take you to camp like this they'll think I bled you dry before you even let me explain,” he whispered. The companions were not within earshot, although relatively close, but it was normal for the vampire to operate in the shadows. You felt your body hit the ground and when you had enough strength to open your eyes, you noticed that he had found shelter in the forest. Your back was leaning against a large log, your legs stretched out on the damp ground.

“A…Astarion?” you whispered. "What…?"

“We'll leave the explanations for later, darling. Give me your wrists,” he ordered. Your tired eyes reflected fear. Did he want to bite you? Finish you there?

Noticing your hesitation, he took them both in his cold hands. "I do not want to hurt. Let me save you." His voice was calm, but his eyes hid a nervousness you had rarely seen. He swallowed, and bringing your wrists to his mouth, he licked them. His red eyes glowed like rubies and his breath trembled against your veins as a short, strangled moan escaped his throat. He seemed to struggle against himself, before placing your wrists on the ground, perhaps with a little too much force. You almost heard him growl as his jaw muscles clenched and his fingers trembled.

The wounds were gone. You blinked several times, lifting your arms with difficulty. It was as if they had never existed!

“I… thank you, Astarion. For saving me. Because of this. It must have been diff…”. Your head was spinning fast, so fast. You felt like the ground was disappearing from underneath your body and you almost fell to the side, if it weren't for the vampire, who grabbed you, preventing your head from hitting a stone.

“Do you want… me to hold you?” he asked with an apprehensive look, his voice a little more serious than usual. Maybe it was the lack of blood that made you see misleading things because he didn't look like Astarion at all. However, by now you didn't care about anything anymore, for all you knew he might as well be a shape-shifting monster ready to make a single morsel of you. You nodded your head and Astarion pulled you into his arms, resting your back against his chest.

"Better?" he asked. His breath tickled your neck.

“Mh hm” you replied. "Listen…"

You felt his arms become firmer around you.

"I am sorry." His voice was a whisper. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Maybe all this wouldn't have happened."

You frowned, tilting your head slightly, which made it spin even more than before, confusing you to the point of making you feel drunk. "What…? What didn't you tell me...?”

The pale elf peered at the now distant black lake through the trunks of the forest. He didn't have the courage to meet your gaze.

“That I love you, my dear. Or rather, I told you that time as a joke, at the camp. Those words that I said to all the victims before taking them to Cazador." His gaze finally found its way to yours, glossy for the tears you were trying to hold back. Your heart, slow at first, began to thunder in your skull like a hammer, your breath became shorter and you tried to move away from him.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn't be. Was he taking advantage of that situation? Was he joking? Was it a demon, perhaps Raphael, ready to extort some contract from you?

"I do not believe you". Your voice trembled with fear and weakness, but even if you wanted to, you couldn't escape. You couldn't feel your legs anymore and the breath burned in your lungs. Even if you wanted to scream no one would have heard you.

Your panic didn't come from the fear of being eaten, but from the fact that Astarion had been the last bastion of salvation for you before you thought about harming yourself. You had feelings for him for a long time now, and your eyes often drifted over his slender frame as you tried to fall asleep in your bedroll as he drifted further into the darkness. When you allowed him to drink your blood, his bites and lips continued to torment you in the night, but far from unpleasant reasons. However, convinced that you were not reciprocated and considering his ambition for power and the constant flirting during missions even with bears, those words looked fake to you. You bit your lip, curling up as much as you could.

“No, no, don't be like that... look at me,” he said while lifting your chin with one hand. You didn't want to, you didn't want to accept the reality and feel terribly stupid for almost throwing your life away when the one you loved maybe actually reciprocated your feelings. When your eyes finally met, you saw him for what he truly was.

A fragile creature. His look was desperate, the mouth curved in an expression of infinite sadness. His other hand caressed your hair... a pleasant contact, which made you relax a little. "Listen to me. I know I don't have the easiest of temperament” he confessed, a bitter laugh, with his typical accent, changed his expression for a moment. “And I want you to know that everything you see of me is not… true. It's that bastard Cazador who turned me into a monster. But you made me feel something that in two hundred years, under his control, I had never felt.”

You rested your face in his hand, now cupping your cheek. You decided to trust. If it was a dream or a near-death hallucination, you wanted to live every minute of it.

"What?"

"Free. I feel free” he murmured, and his lips rested on yours in a sweet, delicate kiss. They were surprisingly soft and tasted vaguely of iron and mulberry, but that contact was enough to feel a new, powerful rush of adrenaline bringing you back to the present.

It was really happening. You were in his arms and he had saved you from certain death. And now he was kissing you in the sweetest way possible, both of his hands cupping your face as if you were in danger of breaking at any moment.

It seemed like an eternal, perfect kiss that you wanted to leave suspended in time. When you opened your eyes again, you found his. So vulnerable, so desperate. He ran a finger over your lip, before being grabbed and hugged like his life depended on it.

"Stay with me. Forever."

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 oc #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 5 months

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Rhaenyra and Motherhood

Motherhood is an integral part to Rhaenyra's character, both in the show and the book. So many of her actions are based on her children and her legacy is carried by her sons Aegon III and Viserys II. However, her antis are obsessed with removing motherhood from her character or claiming that she was simply a bad mother.

Rhaenyra's motivations throughout the Dance were driven by her love for her children. From the loss of Visenya fueling her desire to reclaim her throne to Joffrey's death causing her to return to Dragonstone. Even before the Dance, Rhaenyra's desire to protect her children was part of her motivation for marrying Daemon so quickly.

Despite these facts, Rhaenyra's antis always want to portray Rhaenyra as a selfish woman who doesn't care about her children and only wants power and to get laid. They blatantly ignore how Rhaenyra loves her children so completely.

Rhaenyra raised Jace to be someone even Mushroom agreed would be a great king. He was kind, intelligent, protective, a good military strategist even at fourteen, and a skilled fighter. Even though the show decided to give many of his attributes to Aemond, he's still a good man and much wiser than his older uncles. He was also respectful towards women and had a good relationship with Baela.

Lucerys was greatly loved by Rhaenyra, in the show she calls him her sweet boy. She raised Luke to be a kind and brave boy, he was respectful to Rhaena and had a sweet relationship with her. He was protective of his siblings and just wanted to make his mother proud.

Joffrey was a brave boy, perhaps too much for his own good. He wanted to defend what was left of his family, which led to his untimely death. But in life he was loved by his siblings and Rhaenyra and she was fiercely protective of him.

"Nor would she suffer to be parted from Prince Aegon, her last living son...day and night the boy remained by her side like a small pale shadow."

Even though the show hasn't yet given us any stills of Rhaenyra and Aegon the Younger, we know a lot about their relationship from the book. After the deaths of her other children, Rhaenyra held Aegon closer than ever. He grew to be a good king, despite his severe PTSD. He was firm with his advisors, stabilized the realm after the Dance, strove for peace, visited the sick, and tried to bring back dragons using magic. The only reason he isn't remembered fondly is because he wasn't happy or interested in kissing up to the lords.

Due to Viserys' age at the time of the Dance and his subsequent separation from his family, we don't know much about his relationship with Rhaenyra. But we do know that his disappearance was greatly grieved by her and that he was very close to his brother Aegon. Regardless, Viserys was a good king and such a skilled politician he was compared to Jaehaerys himself.

Visenya may have been stillborn, but she was greatly loved by Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra's only daughter, she was mourned greatly by her parents and it was her loss that helped spur Rhaenyra in her desire to reclaim her throne.

Motherhood is one of the key aspects of Rhaenyra's character. Her trauma revolving around the tragic death of her mother makes her love for her children and happiness as a mother even more compelling. She was at her happiest when she was able to live with her beloved husband and children unbothered by the Greens. She deserved to reign with her children around her. Their loss destroyed her emotionally and removed any hope Aegon and Aemond had for mercy from her or her faction.

Even though the misogyny of Westeros prevented her from being remembered as a true queen, her children are still fondly remembered. It's through them her legacy and final victory over the Greens live on, and the Green stans hate that so they try to remove her connection to her children. But their efforts are as useless as their favs, as Rhaenyra's legacy is alive and well in ASOIAF through Daenerys and their beloved usurper and his bitch mother are only remembered as war mongers and power hungry thieves.

#rhaenyra targaryen #team black #anti team green #house of the dragon #asoiaf #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #joffrey velaryon #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #baby visenya #queen rhaenyra #daenerys targaryen #anti rhaenyra antis

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daenerysies · 4 months

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someone sent me an anon ask about the anti rhaenyra agenda most rhaenicent shippers have and like a dumbass i accidently deleted it so i'm just going to try my best to re-answer it here (yes i wrote a whole spiel about it and now it's gone forever and i'm upset.)

from what i can tell there are only two reasons as to why people can't stand rhaenyra but love rhaenicent; and it's because they either have some heavy internalized misogyny OR that's the only way to continue and keep their uwu sad lesbian alicent headcanons semi-tethered in reality. alicent is a character that has next to no positive interactions with other characters, least of all any women. she has a 'good' (and i say that lightly) relationship with rhaenyra for 2 episodes in hotd, and then they are adversaries for the rest of the show. the only other women we see her interact with are helaena and her lady in waiting talya ( who regularly spied on her for mysaria) and minus talya, those are the same female relationships she has in f&b. she doesn't really have a good track record with anyone.

in the book she terrorized rhaenyra from aegon's birth up until rhaenyra's death. rather than teaching her son to rule and raising him to be an upstanding prince of the realm she instead spent her time calling rhaenyra, a literal child, a slut, she accepted criston into her service as her own personal protector in spite of his predatory behavior towards rhaenyra (which she acknowledges), and continuously tries to have rhaenyra and her sons disinherited and killed due to her own spreading of the bastard rumors. not to mention that she was eighteen when she married viserys to rhaenyra's nine. there's really nothing romantic about it. in the show almost everything is still the same except for her being the one to arrange helaena's marriage to her known degenerate and rapist son (in f&b viserys is the one who had them marry) and most likely told her the same rhetoric of rhaenyra killing them to secure her claim that she told her sons from when they were babies up until the coup. with rhaenyra she still antagonizes her because she (lemme check again, told alicent she didn't sleep with daemon and got otto fired because he was working against the crown to install his grandson as heir over her). don't even get me started on the villainization of rhaenyra in order to uphold alicent's constant victimization storyline. alicent is the one who abused rhaenyra, not the other way around, and the age changes in the show (which are so stupid omg) only serve to make alicent more sympathetic and rhaenyra an apparent privileged brat who doesn't understand what it's like to suffer because of the men in her life and therefore deserves her fate (i can literally see the entire galaxy with how far back my eyes are rolled rn.)

if the show wanted to include or focus on two women who were torn apart by the patriarchy and the men around them, helaena's blank character was right there for the taking (and would've been even juicier with the sister vs sister, queen consort vs queen regnant debacle.) she has no personality in the book or any relevance besides losing her children in violent ways and going mad, they definitely could have made her a more present character on screen in a manner that adds an actual emotional connection to her but alas, rhaenicent is top priority. furthering that, if the show wanted to include queer representation with their leading lady, laena had more hints in the text for that type of relationship than anything the show has given us for the rhaenyra/alicent dynamic, even with how hard they're trying to force it down our throats.

the entire relationship has made the story go completely off kilter because the show won't just let it be, and it's affected almost all of their other relationships. they're not going to convince me that rhaenyra cares about alicent more than her own children or even vice versa (though in an entirely different manner) and that reconciliation is possible in spite of aemond murdering luke. it makes both the characters and the writers look like delusional idiots. there's absolutely no reason for these types of glaring mistakes in a series where characterization and the relationships that revolve from them are the reason it's so popular amongst the masses. this lack of proper relationship building has caused hotd to feel a lot more shallow and lackluster than what you'd expect with how massive it's budget was when they created it, the amount of talented actors they casted, and the literal blueprint laid out of what not to do that got season eight is. someone should have taken accountability for these dumb decisions and realized how quickly they're streamlining straight towards what ruined game of thrones in the first place.

#f&b #hotd #hotd critical #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra #helaena targaryen #laena velaryon #anti alicent hightower #anti criston cole #anti aegon ii targaryen #anti viserys i targaryen #anti rhaenicent #faye answers #anonymous #whoever you are i'm sorry

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yoificfinder · 2 months

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In celebration of women, here are some fics centered around the great women of YOI! Happy international women's day! ♀️✨️

(Don't) Give a Damn by @forochel [T, 9K]

Mari, through the years,

an open door by tripcyclone [G, 8K]

Lilia never wanted children of her own, but caring for Victor gives her a glimpse into the life she chose to pass by.

and your feet will follow by @prinzenhasserin [T, 13K]

Lilia’s relationship with her fellow ballerinas wasn’t usually complicated. Usually, she knew exactly where she stood. Not so with Minako Okukawa who had disappeared from the ballet world some years ago to hide in the dance studio of a backwater town in Japan.

Lilia didn’t care about that, of course. Not at all. She just deserved a vacation, to Japan, incidentally.

another girl in another time by cityboys [G, 11K]

Wouldn’t it be cool if there really is another version of you out there?

Beautiful in Knowing by @val-creative [T, 1K]

Sara knew she was a girl, even if nobody else did or believed her.

She ordered Michele to call her "Lady Sara" from now on. He would roll his eyes and grumble, but never attempt to misgender her. She liked "Sara" — it meant "lady, princess, noblewoman". And she would never go back to her deadname.

if friends were flowers, i'd pick you by windupbirdgirl [G, 4K]

During the first two years of high school, Yuuko finds she barely has time to breathe. The sky seems very far away, the sea even more so. She hasn’t gone to the rink in months.

if love is king, who wears the crown by @crollalanzaa [G, 1K]

“Second is seen as nothing,” Christophe had derided.

“But that moment you glide onto the ice, that hush of the audience, and that expectation, isn’t that worth something?”

“You speak as if you know. You used to skate?"

Past tense. It still stung, even if it was expected.

Minako knows exactly what it's like to be at the top of your game, and she remembers the descent just as clearly.

if she wants me by renaissance [G, 6K]

Hiroko and Minako, then and now.

if the sea has any draw for you by weird_bird [E, 8K]

The first time Mila saw her dance in person, her power funneled down into elegance, the granite of her face transmogrified to marble, she almost gave her the password to her bank account, she’s that good.

kagura by night by seventhstar / @pencilwalla [T, 1K]

The world around her is like the mountains.

A mortal lifespan is narrow; mortals watch the mountain’s unchanging faces, unravaged by the same measure of time that takes a human from dust to dust, and think them immortal in comparison. But stone erodes, just as flesh decays. It just takes longer.

If she watches long enough, everything changes. Languages drift until all the words she learned before are meaningless. Technology changes until she ceases to believe in magic because human ingenuity is more infinite than the stars. What is beautiful, what is polite, what is wrong, what is right—time, given its way, reshapes all.

But Minako’s body remains as it has always been. That’s why she loves to dance, she supposes; it’s the one thing time cannot take from her.

Katsudon by @azriona [G, 8K]

Hiroko doesn’t need to see to coat pork cutlets in egg and panko. She has made this dish for her family for over thirty years; she’ll make it another thirty, if she’s lucky.

Now she makes it for Yuuri and Victor as they fly home from Barcelona, with silver around their necks and gold around their fingers.

keep me steady as we go by orphan_account [G, 3K]

When Isabella stood and crossed the room to where he sat she saw her notebook open in his lap, turned to the last page of their to-do list, all but three items crossed off with less than a month to the wedding date. License. Ceremony. Everything after. She saw the angle of his gaze, too, not on the words but straight ahead, staring blank and glassy and brittle into some invisible place she still wasn’t sure she could follow him to, yet. And yet she had been the one who’d promised to try—and to keep promising, forever and forever.

Kooks by BoxWineConfessions [G, 3K]

Mari clasps her right hand across her left hand and rests them both atop her growing stomach. “I guess you’re just lucky that your father, I mean your other father, my brother-“ Mari giggles. “God, it all sounds so weird, doesn’t it? Do you care? Do you care that we’re all so fucked up and we don’t care at all?” Mari laughs again. It’s all she can do when she hurts this much, and wants a cigarette this much, but can’t stop smiling despite the fact that her body seems to hate her so much. “Well he means the world to me. That’s why I have you.”

Living in the Maybe by @adrianners [T, 6K]

It wasn’t hard to spot a 180cm platinum blond in Fukuoka International Airport. Especially when he was the only person wearing sunglasses. Indoors. At night.

Mari picks Viktor up at the airport when he returns from Moscow. Without Yuuri there to play his usual role of interpreter, they learn to communicate around their linguistic, cultural, and personal barriers.

my better self by @spookyfoot [G, 1K]

Mila's the first friend Yuuri's made in Russia. Technically, Yuuri became friends with Yurio in Hasetsu, but he'd never say that to Yurio's face.

On his first day training in Russia, Mila stole Yuuri from the rink and showed him pictures of Victor and Georgi wearing Spice Girls t-shirts Victor had picked up at a consignment shop during Skate America in 2006, and a video of them skating a synchronized routine to "Stacy's Mom."

"Don't let anyone here intimidate you. I guarantee none of them are scarier than Yura." They watched Victor skate circles around Yuri on the ice, Mila's camera primed for blackmail material—just in case.

_________

Yuuri and some of the women in his life, through the years.

Variations on a Theme by BoxWineConfessions [M, 20K]

Mari doesn't like it when the past and the present overlap so easily. Mari knows the mischievous grin and the burn of eyes that linger too long. They're the trademark of girls who are still figuring out what they want, but want relentlessly. Mari is tired of letting people in, only to have to say goodbye when their vacation is over.

Mila has experienced this before, this knowing little smile that implies that they know something about her body that she doesn’t. It comes across as cocky, and arrogant on men, and gentle with Mari. Mari looks like she's just told her some kind of wonderful secret.

Together, they reshape their expectations.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yoi fanfic #yoi fic rec

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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I enjoyed your a/b/o universe writing and had an idea. When laenor dies instead of rhaenyra marrying daemon, she convinces viscerys to marry her omega half sister to her. Nsfw content included if possible though please don't do the bedding ceremony that they do in westeros as I have always found that idea humilating to mostly the women

ooOo i like it, also yes i'm not keen on the bedding ceremony either i can write it if asked to but it's not my favourite, :)

also sorry for the length i got so carried away lol

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓, one on either side of Viserys, both staring the other down. Alicent knew that there was a deeper reason for Rhaenyra's visit besides spending time with her ill father. And to her distaste she was correct. Rhaenyra hadn't allowed her children to join her, she couldn't risk another incident like last time she visited. She needed her father to see the benefits of the potential union above all else. Rhaenyra cleared her throat. "Father," She spoke, looking into his smiling face. "Has Y/n yet found a match?" Alicent's eyes narrowed and roamed her former friend's face. "No," Viserys answered with a light chuckle. "Alicent has made it extremely clear on the importance of her betrothed." Rhaenyra nodded slowly. "I agree." She started again. "Omegas are very rare, to have born one is a high privilege, she deserves someone truly worthy of her." Viserys nodded mindlessly but Alicent's stare felt the same as the last time they had fought. When Rhaenyra blinked she feared that she would open those eyes to see Alicent toward her with a dagger again. She shifted uncomfortably and listened to her father as he spoke of their child, pride evident in his tone. "We have received proposals but none yet that appease us." His daughter hummed at his statement. "And what about myself?" Viserys frowned. Alicent froze, her knife tightly gripped in her hand. "Yourself?" He asked. "I am recently widowed and in need of a betrothed. I have met Y/n before, she has visited Dragonstone often. She has become quite the charmer." Rhaenyra ignored the image of Alicent seething before her. "Nonsense." Alicent dispelled, swallowing down her anger as her jaw began to clench. Rhaenyra's brows shot upward, feigning surprise. She had expected this. "Why ever not?" She asked, attention turned to her stepmother. "She has come of age and I am a suitable candidate." "She will have no shortage of suitors and if an event changes this then Aemond is a perfectly suitable man." Alicent clicked her tongue. Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes but regained her composure. "Perhaps and while I deem it wise for her to keep our bloodline pure, Aemond is no alpha." Rhaenyra argued, turning her attention onto Viserys once more.

"At my side she will want for nothing, our bloodline will remain pure, her safety will be guaranteed and she will one day become Queen." She attempted to maintain her calm voice. She had learned quickly in life that her father prioritised peace and logic above anger. Alicent scoffed. It was Rhaenyra's son who had taken her own eye and now she wanted to take Alicent's daughter too? Her very pride? "You assume that she would approve of such a match. You barely know her, she has known Aemond her entire life." Rhaenyra's head snapped to her, her composure cracking for a moment. "Of course I know her, it is frequent that we exchange letters." She sneered. "How dare you cast such a vile accusation that she would be safer with any other." Alicent's now closed fist lands on the table with a threatening thud. "You dare cast the same, believing that you would bestow more safety on her than her brother?" Viserys stands as Rhaenyra leaps up from her seat. A tense air ensues. "Enough!" He commanded. "I am the girl's father and thus I shall decide on future arrangements." He seethed in frustration. Alicent's face turned to alarm while Rhaenyra grew dejected. She sighed. "Husband–" "Enough!" Viserys repeated. "I will be retiring to bed." Rhaenyra nodded and tried to calm her racing heart and prevent her flashing eyes. Alicent stared after him and considered walking him back but she could assume he would shrug her off–it wasn't often that he would be so irate "Yes, darling." She finally responded. Rhaenyra leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek and then swiftly turned to leave through the corridors.

Alicent stood in hesitation for a moment before following after her former friend. "What are you playing at?" She spat, chasing after her. Rhaenyra turned quickly and paced toward her. "I have waited too long to find someone who enraptured me as your daughter does and trust me I do not delight in the fact that she shares the same blood that pumps through your veins but alas it is so." Rhaenyra's voice was bellowing and a low hiss rang through her teeth. Alicent stepped back. "But you understand that she was made for me and she, I. You speak of duty but deny the ones I wish to pursue–I will marry your child, delight her in my every aspect of my love or else I shall lay myself upon my father's throne and relinquish my very life to your hand. She will always be mine, my omega. No matter what you tell yourself, it will be me that she devotes herself to." She breathed heavily. Alicent's expression didn't waver from its stone but her mind was reeling in confusion, surprise, interest and doubt. Satisfied that she left the Queen speechless, she left to her chambers. Fluster embedded in her every motion as she prepared for flight. It was two weeks after her visit to the Red Keep before she recieved an answer from her father. She beamed greatly as she read it carefully.

ℜ𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔫𝔶𝔯𝔞, 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡,

ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯

𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔜/𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔫.

She didn't read the rest, she didn't need to. Already, she demanded to be prepared for dragonback. She sent for her children to do so also and soon they were travelling.

At arrival Rhaenyra notices the cold reception but she finds herself not caring when she can see you running through to the castle's entrance with a fresh cut of flowers in your grasp, petals falling freely. onto the floor. She smiles fondly as you finally reach her. Your eyes light up and she swears she sees little dancing stars in your eyes. You thrust the handmade bouquet into her arms and bite your lip as she accepts. "For you, dear sister." She says. Rhaenyra admires the flowers in admiration. You turn to her sons, grinning, you wave at them. "Hi, Jace, hi Luke." You look at Joffrey and laugh at the way he tries to grasp onto your hand. "Hi little Joff." He frowns at displeasure of the name but ultimately ignores it as Jace jumps at the chance to wrap his arms around you tightly, Luke following after him. Rhaenyra allows you to reunite so she can watch the interaction between you all. You always did aim to please. "My children have missed you." She announces, Luke immediately discrediting this even though he still hasn't pulled away from you. You smile at the boys. "I have too, it will be nice to see you so often, nephews." Jace nods. Rhaenyra laughs gently.

The wedding was long and intense, Rhaenyra's hand never left you whether it lay on your own or your thigh it remained. She presses herself close as she murmurs sweet enchantments in your ear. The wedding is sweet and a short ceremony with Alicent almost drinking as much as Aegon. "I hope this evening has been pleasant for you, dōna riña." (sweet girl) She twirled a collection of hair from your face. You flushed under her gaze. "Of course, wife." You answered pressing shy chaste kiss to the corner of her lip. Rhaenyra smiled wickedly. "And for the next half of our evening?" She asked carefully, voice low. She smirked at the surprise and embarrassment on your face– she wanted to kiss it away. Sex was a pleasure not something to be ashamed of. "I want to take care of you, sweetling." She hummed against your face as she walked her fingers slowly over your dress, edging closer to your heat. "Will you let me?" You let out a small whine and leaned closer against her, throat growing dry with lust. Her voice is slightly rough and sends a trigger of excitement down your spine. You nod, drawing a low growl from her as her body begins to heat up. Suddenly, she pulled away from you and stood. "My wife and I shall now be taking our leave. We thank you for your attendance to our union. One that I'm sure will rejoice in love and strength." Rhaenyra announces. An applause greets her as she tugs your hand. You rise and feel her arm link with yours.

The moment your shared chamber doors are closed behind you, she pounces. Her fingers roam your body as she hoists you against the door and wraps your legs around her, it was times like these that made Rhaenyra pray in thanks to the gods for her alpha DNA. Her left hand cups your breast and squeezes enough for pressure but not too hard for discomfort. You moan as she presses open mouthed kisses to your jaw, slowly drawing down to your neck. She drinks in your whines and pushes her cunt against yours, her clit twitches which urges her other hand to slowly dance up your skirts. She lowers you slowly to the floor and turns you around to unlace your wedding gown, kissing along the back of your neck as she does so. She tosses all your garments aside until your bare before her, when you turn back around you find that she has also stripped herself. Her eyes trail over you like a predator, slowly edging back toward you. When you shiver, she takes your hands and urges them against her, moulding your fingers to rub slow circles against her clit. A gasp shot from you as she returned the favour with her own fingers. Your heart thumped wildly, begging to press against her and almost like she heard it's pleads, she thrust her body against yours. She once more lifts you, to wrap around her but this time to drop you on the bed. She looked into your face with desire evident in the dilation of her eyes. "Jaelā nyke." She stated. (You want me) She smirks down at you and slowly lowers herself to kneel on the floor. Her mouth hovers over your heat, you can feel her warm breath against you, your clit twitching. Rhaenyra seems to relish in your confusion. "Kesan bodmagho ao everything, ñuha jorrāelagon." She promises. (I will teach you everything, my love) Her lips lower onto you, her hands carefully kneading your legs apart like dough when they try to close. "My sweet girl." She continues to murmur. She licks at you gently and in slow measure until your hands reach below you.

"Faster, please!" You beg, desperate for her tongue. She doesn't for quite some time until she takes one index finger and thrusts it into your cunt. A loud moan expels from you like prayer. She chuckles below you, the vibrations rolling a wave of pleasure into you. "Ñuha mijegindita virgin." She says, building rhythm. (My poor virgin) She allows a growl to escape her. "So good for me, so desperate for me." She rolls a second finger into you and flicks you clit with her tongue. "You wouldn't want anyone else but your Queen would you?" It's a rumbling behind your throat that turns into a submissive mewl. "You like that my dōna byka ābrazȳrys?" You nod mindlessly as she pulls you apart in her palm. When she pushes a third finger, she can feel you're close. You whine as she brings you to the unfamiliar edge, stretching you until your body is made to bend around her but you suppose it is now. "Ao māzis syt nyke, sweetling?" She asks. (Are you coming for me, sweetling?) You groan. "Then come." Her voice is now a hiss as your body obeys her for you, your orgasm plunging out of you. She accepts the release ardently, the need for you intensifying as more ripples erupt from you. She takes it from you like a gift, slowly unwrapping you–savouring you.

When she pulls away, you can see the wetness on her lips she's wearing like a badge of honour. Rhaenyra takes away her fingers, only snickering at your whining. She grins at you and intertwines your fingers together, rolling up your body. She wraps her legs either side of yours and leans down to kiss you with fervour. She cups your face with one hand. She's gentle again, always gentle. "Avy jorrāelan, dōna riña." She smiles. (I love you, sweet girl) She watches you carefully. "Do you want to love me back, sweetling?" You nod weakly to which she rewards you with a kiss. You murmur as your lucidity returns though slightly hazy. Your eyes flicker up at her. "Be my throne." With that she rises onto your face, lowering her cunt against your lips. With tentative caution, you extend your tongue to her.

A/N so i got a bit carried away and didn't want make this too long but i would be happy to write a part ii :) <3

#yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere rhaenyra targaryen x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #ask #request #anon #anon ask #anon request #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #yandere rhaenyra x half-sister #yandere rhaenyra targaryen x half-sister smut #alpha rhaenyra x omega reader #alpha rhaenyra

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doxypsychlean · 2 years

Text

Cupid's Chokehold

Aegon ii Targaryen x Reader

|Oneshot|

Warnings: Explicit language, implied nudity ig?? dude's ass was out for everyone to see in that one scene anyway?

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Lol this one's kinda sad...Oh yeah, and no use of Y/N, couldn't get myself to do it.

"Where the fuck were you last night?" She entered their shared quarters, angry tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "For fuck's sake, Aegon!"

"Hm?"

"Where were you!?"

"What?"

She tore the sheets off of him. All he did was roll over and mutter something under his breath.

"Why do I even bother..." She sighed in defeat, crashing down on the corner of the bed. Their bed. At least in principle. In reality, the princess had spent most of their marriage sleeping on one of the lounging chairs they had in their chambers. She couldn't bring herself to get into the same bed as him. Especially when he smelled of wine, vomit, other women and Gods know what else...

"I never wanted this, you know..." She said more to herself, than him. "I would've been more than happier to marry some unknown lord of some unknown pile of shit on the other side of the realm."

There was no stopping now, it all came crashing down. The words kept spilling from her mouth.

"I can still see it. Me and this fanthom lord husband of mine, smiling at eachother, our children running around. A babe growing in my womb. I could've been so happy, Aegon...So,so happy."

Unbeknownst to her, he had heard it all. Red puffy eyes looked back at her, tears creeping their way down his flushed face and landing on the soft pillow under the prince's head. He sat up, hand reaching out for her.

"I never knew... I-" His voice trembling.

"How could have you ever known, you're never here..." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, moving away from his touch. "Sometimes I wonder if you even know my fucking name"

She stood up abruptly and started circling around the room like a caged beast. A pair of crystal blue eyes followed her movements. Aegon could see it all now, clear as day. The pain, the distrust, the resentment.

"I tried loving you... Back when Cupid still had me in his chokehold" the woman let out a bitter laugh. "You fucking idiot, you have no idea what it's like! All I wanted was someone to love me. Someone to fucking love back! If that is love, then I don't know what love is..."

She slammed a hand against the wall, bones shattering. All the adrenaline that rushed through the young body kept her from feeling the severity of what she'd just done to herself.

"Instead I got you- a lifelong sentence. And I have yet to figure out what kind of monstrosity I must have committed to deserve such a punishment."

"Please, I'll-"

"You'll what? Change?" She interrupted. Her voice was barely above a whisper now, clutching her broken hand with the one that was still intact. "Oh, please. You've had all the time in the damn world to do it. You think me yelling at you once is what's gonna do it. Please, Aegon, even I am not that naive."

The prince looked down at her broken hand. He knew it. She was right.

"My dear, sweet Aegon..." The woman grabbed his chin between the thumb and index finger of her good hand, lifting up so he could meet her gaze once again. "You'll spend the rest of your life chasing whores and bottles. You're not good for much else. Remember that."

She bent down and kissed him gently. The first and last kiss they'd shared since the wedding ceremony. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Not long after your pretty silver hair will start to fall out. You'll get weak. Frail. The only children you'll father will be bastards that you'll never meet. And the only person that would have tried to love you for who you were, will be long gone..."

She was at the door by the time his eyes opened back up.

"Farewell, my love."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd one shot #gameogthronesfanfic #gameofthrones #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #oneshot #angst

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herdemonspeaking · 1 month

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Never date/marry a man who:

is a misogynist, is anti-feminist, is religious, is conservative, thinks women should cater to him, doesn't know how to cook, doesn't know how to clean, is a mama's boy, a man-child, expects you to take care of his parents, isn't willing to leave his parent's house to live with you separately, doesn't add value in your life, has a 50/50 mentality, has a traditional mentality, isn't financially stable, isn't emotionally stable, calls himself 'alpha or sigma', is broke, has a high body count, consumes xxx videos, is a drunkie, doesn't support your career and dreams, has the audacity to dictate your life, tells you what to wear, doesn't respect women, use misogynistic slurs like "whore" or "bitch" or "slut" for women he doesn't like, plays video games 24/7, barks too much, prefers physical intimacy over casual intimacy, does not worship the ground you walk on, doesn't believe women are goddesses, is uneducated, is illiterate, is dumb, is a coward, needs therapy, belongs in an asylum, belongs in jail but is free to roam, is a rape apologist, has toxic friends, idolizes misogynist men, is a tater tot, listens to his alpha daddies podcasts, sexualizes women, young girls and children, doesn't find the sexualization of women in movies/shows problematic, is envious of powerful women, isn't okay with you being wealthier than him, calls women "gold diggers" for having high standards his broke ass can't afford, only likes feminine women, but is himself an ugly gorilla who looks like a forest, thinks he deserves to be the first priority in your life, lives in a delusion that you would choose him over your dreams anytime, is miserable, has a victim mindset, is insecure about everything, thinks he's superior to you because he's a man, has an attitude, is egoistic, looks innocent but deserves a slap on his face, makes fun of your hobbies, makes fun of common women's hobbies, is annoying, is being an obstacle in your journey to your dreams, thinks your life should revolve around him, is a narcissist, and, you don't feel safe and loved in his presence.

The list goes on... I will add more red flags 🚩 if/when I find out. Men have been exposing them at an accelerating rate.

Don't make the mistake of ignoring any one of them. Otherwise you will suffer.

Feel free to add more to the list.

*Note* if you see any man crying about this blog, it's because he feels called out. If it's a stupid woman complaining, it's because she is dating one of these red flags and is miserable about the fact that you won't settle with a garbage like she did.

#radical feminist #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist community #radical feminist safe #feminism #women #independent woman #red flags #men are children #Exposing men

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doberbutts · 9 months

Note

Hey there! Before I begin, I totally understand if you aren't comfortable with answering questions about this. Feel free to delete this ask.

Would you mind describing the treatment of animals you saw when you were in Mennonite communities? I've heard Amish and Mennonite communities treat them more like tools than living creatures.....

Yes, Mennonites and Amish largely treat their animals as tools and a means to an end rather than like living creatures deserving of their own respect. Understand that this is very much hard-coded into the religion and culture itself, so it is a difficult mindset to combat. Even Mennonite-adjacent communities often treat their animals in a similar manner, even if they say that they don't like that type of ownership, because of the same.

In the Christian Bible, there are a lot of verses about man having dominion over the earth and nature existing to do two things: worship God and serve Man. And Anabaptists in general believe that the best way to worship God is through hard manual physical labor and rejecting any and all paths that make this labor easy. It's why the Amish don't do electricity, for a rather extreme example, but it's also why many of these communities seem addicted to the ideals of "work" and "discipline" being the way to a Godly life.

So... if animals exist to serve Man and worship God, and the best way to worship God is through hard manual labor and rigid discipline (read: punishment) for anyone who steps out of line, it follows suit that the animals are not treated particularly kindly.

Don't get me wrong. These communities are also filled with horrific human rights violations. From child labor to forced marriage and impregnation to abandonment of the elderly and disabled to rampant domestic and sexual abuse to denial of education and medicine... this is not just an animal problem. I know I'm running an animal blog, but it's really important that if I talk about the way they treat their animals, I also have to talk about the way they treat the women, the children, the elderly, the disabled, and anyone who dares think outside of their strict rules. The care for the animals is just a symptom of the same problem.

It is my experience that the Amish are worse about it than the Mennonites, but they are also sort of cut from the same cloth so various communities of either can really vary widely. Animals are expendable. They serve their purpose and then they die and the owners get a new one. Dogs, cats, horses, livestock, doesn't matter. Most of these animals are not pets and, even if they are, they are not pets in the same way that my dogs are pets. If they get sick, letting them die or killing them outright is usually the path taken instead of medicine. If medicine is used, it's what can be purchased from a trip to the local farm store, not actual doctors and prescriptions.

Unfortunately, pretty much every attempt to fix this problem has been met with "it's my religion" and thus it continues to be an issue. Again, I have to stress, this is a religious problem, there are very specific verses they are using to justify this. It also does not help that their religion teaches that "the world" (anyone outside of their local church community) will try to lead them astray by telling them their religion and religious practices are morally wrong, and so pretty much any "hey maybe don't work the horses on the plow until they literally fall over dead" or "hey maybe breeding hundreds of dogs per year with no vet care or oversight is not the nicest way to do this" is met with "THE DEVIL is trying to tell me THE WAY I SERVE GOD is WRONG, clearly this is an attack directly on my soul" and not like. "Maybe you are right and I should be nicer to my animals and not work them to death and provide vet care when they're sick and injured"

This is why I call both Amish and Mennonites cultists. You have to have experienced the religion and culture firsthand to understand how this all hooks together. It's not so simple as just improving the law because these communities believe they are not bound by the law in the first place.

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lavender-romancer · 1 year

Text

Crosses on my body

Part Three Tommy Shelby x Reader

You were a nun in Dublin but when you decided to take action against those in powerful positions in the church you had to escape. When you turn up in Birmingham and begin a relationship with Tommy Shelby will he be able to protect you from your past?

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

You studied Tommy's features as you both knelt opposite each other in the church, his eyes closed in some kind of silent meditation because you knew he didn't come here for God. For someone so plagued with sin he was so peaceful with himself or at least he seemed it. The two of you should be dead by now, learning more about his well deserved reputation. God should have smited the two of you. Why had he allowed you both to survive to meet another? Was there a higher purpose you were both meant for?

"Why do you come here with me? You don't believe in God." You asked quietly and Tommy opened his eyes.

"I think you know why." He placed a hand on yours.

"But how can you trust me like this? I expected you to lose interest in all this after maybe a few meetings or that you'd expect more. But you never do. Why is that?" Furrowing your brow you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch, so much more confident than yours.

"I enjoy being with you. Even if it's experiencing something I fundamentally disagree with, I'm in your presence and that's enough." The edges of his mouth curled into a slight smile and you nodded.

"I'm just too out of practice with all this so I can't tell what your expectations are at all." You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand.

"I haven't got any. You expect respect from me and I respect the same back, there isn't anything else. I'm just allowing myself to experience something good for once." He placed his other hand on your cheek and your lips parted slightly, the heat rising into your stomach and up to your chest.

"Do you think anything could change that respect?" You asked timidly and he shook his head.

"I'd be surprised if anything could. I've also done awful things and when I reveal them to you it's likely you won't respect me anymore either. So we're both in a compromising position," he kept hold of your hand for the whole evening, sometimes kissing your knuckles and you could only watch and wish it could carry on forever.

But it was only a fantasy you could hope would carry on forever, the truth was that with you around be was always in danger and you couldn't cope with it.

"I need to tell you something. Something you can't tell anyone unless I ask you to," you paused and looked at Tommy. In the private room of the Garrison.

"We're alone and we hardly have to worry about snooping barmaids. What's your secret?" He asked with a cigarette dangling between his thumb and forefinger.

"I had to tell you, y-you said this was something good and I can't lie to you anymore. Well not lie, but edit the truth of it all," you hung your head.

"What's happened?" Tommy asked, still perplexed.

"I killed someone." You said simply, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Who?" He furrowed his brow.

"A man who deserved it. Regardless of my faith's views this man was pure evil. A true incarnation of Satan. He was cruel and disgusting and-"

"What did he do?" Tommy seemed even more confused at your outburst and you sat on the booth opposite him.

"Do you know about the… Magdalene laundries in Ireland?" You looked down at the table.

"Are they some Christian enterprise?" He asked, still not feeling the gravity of the situation.

"They're glorified prisons posed as reformation and rehabilitation centers. I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I was sent there. For about 10 years I was in a Donegal convent. It was wonderful and full of hope but…" you paused.

"Then you were sent to that place?" Tommy took a sip of whisky and poured you a glass.

"I was. I was told I'd be teaching the orphaned children and that I wouldn't really interact with the women that were in recovery there. But it wasn't true and I saw everything. There's only so many hours you can spout Bible verses at children before you wonder where they'll get an education." Your eyes began to water. "I let it happen, I let them hurt people and I did nothing."

"You were trying to save yourself from it all I'm sure. But this killing," he looked at you and you wiped your eyes.

"Yes, Father Michael Thomas. He was one of the cruelest men I have ever met, he would beat the women a-and pick his 'favourite student' to be with him every night that week. He flouted his power within the church as if it was something to be proud of." You burst into tears and Tommy put his hand on top of yours.

"You killed the bastard, Y/n. How can it not be God's will for you to protect innocents like children?" Tommy gave you his handkerchief.

"Because it's a sin! It's why he's hidden to me now and I'm haunted by the fucking memory of it all. It's why I'm running because I took proof with me of all the unregistered deaths and diary pages from him." You wiped your eyes and cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself.

"It would be intensely embarrassing for the Catholic Church you can't deny that, release it to the press or something and it will get out." Tommy encouraged and you shook your head.

"They're everywhere, they're in England, Scotland, Wales, fucking international too. I heard that they're in America as well. How can one person bring all that down with some truth and some verbal recount of their time in that place?" You began to massage your temples, an awful headache coming on.

"Because it's what's right and I can help you get this out effectively. It would scrutinise the pope, Catholic leaders and every damn church in the world that used these places." Tommy took both of your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. "There is no forgiving yourself if you don't try."

That mantra played over in your head the next few days, you began writing to Theresa under her pseudonym she lived with now. Telling her about your plans for the future and the information, she encouraged you with promises of her support regardless of how it would take form. God might not forgive you for committing an act forbidden in the ten commandments; it was for the greater good of God's beautiful creation of earth.

The was no hope for Roman Catholicism if this behaviour carried on with no consequences for the evil forces involved with it. Women taken from their communities for being abused, children separated from their mother's, back breaking work with no pay but most of all…the violence. The violence some nuns used, it used to scare you to no end because you knew exactly when it was going to happen. Especially when Sister Cecilia would start yelling and pull out the ruler, no one could save the women from that. Each night you would awake from night terrors of your complacency and your guilt of leaving and not saving anyone but yourself but, you had to press on. If not for the victims sake for the possible survivors.

"What's going on with you and the nun, Thomas?" Polly asked.

"Ex nun, you mean." Tommy tried to act innocent while reading the newspaper in his office.

"Oh don't play that line with me. You know that I see through it all." Polly glared at him with her dark rimmed eyes that seemed to stare into his soul.

"What do you want to know then, Pol?" Thomas folded the top of his newspaper down.

"Why are you corrupting her?" She walked to the front of his desk and placed her hands on it.

"I think you'll find she's already corrupted enough on her own." Tommy almost smiled at the thought of how fucked up you both were put together.

"She's a woman of faith, Thomas. Real faith and commitment. That doesn't just go away on a wim." Polly looked like she wanted the ceiling to cave in and crush him underneath it.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because she could be good for this business, all the shit we're in now. Offering a more moral point of view." Polly theorised walking away from the desk and around the room.

"I agree with that. But you don't know her. Her past is just as murky as ours." Tommy sat up in his chair.

"On what level?" She looked in smug disbelief that there could be anything to the contrary of pure morality in you.

"Cardinal sins." Tommy raised his eyebrows and Polly laughed.

"That could be anything, Thomas."

"Alright I'll bite. Death. By necessity but still death." He placed his hands together on his desk and leaned forward.

"You're joking." She looked at him with an almost pleading expression and he shrugged his shoulders. "Why in God's name do all the sinners of the world end up in this city?" She groaned in exasperation before walking out of his office, fuming.

Tommy could only smile, finding you couldn't have by chance. It was meant to be, even if only to get that reaction from Polly.

You woke the next day to some post posted under your door. After you honestly to Thomas you were feeling surprisingly optimistic about your new life. This bliss was undercut when you picked up this post and saw the return address. 69 Sean Macdermott Street Lower, Our Lady of Charity. You hands began to shake, the rest of your body feeling paralysed. You stayed like that for a while, scrunching up the letter in a seizure type trance before you let out an extremely long breath and began to sob, falling to yours knees. They had found you and you knew you didn't have long.

next part Peaky blinders taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 Series taglist: @juicyj28 @alessioayla @fmo166

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