#The phrase there should be I wish to never take any of your souls.

[candy69gurl]

INSUBORDINATION

PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.

WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), breeding kink, clit slapping & rubbing, man handling

Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.

Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.

He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.

"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.

A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.

How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.

He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"

"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.

Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."

Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.

In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.

"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.

Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."

His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."

"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.

Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."

His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."

"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.

Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."

His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."

His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."

"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."

Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.

"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.

Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.

"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."

You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.

"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.

Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."

He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.

Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."

As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."

Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.

Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.

With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.

Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"

He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.

"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.

"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.

"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.

He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"

"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.

Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"

You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."

Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.

"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.

Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.

Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."

Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.

Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.

"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.

Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"

Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.

Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.

Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.

His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."

You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.

You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."

Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.

Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"

"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"

Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.

"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."

You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.

"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.

Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."

"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."

Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"

He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.

Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."

"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.

Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.

"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.

"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.

Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"

"Bastard", you reply.

He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"

"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.

His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"

"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.

He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.

"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"

"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.

Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.

"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.

Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."

Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.

"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."

You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.

"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.

He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.

"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.

"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.

Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.

"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.

"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.

"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"

Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."

Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."

Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.

You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.

He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."

You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.

Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.

Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".

Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.

Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.

You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.

Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"

You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"

"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.

"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.

"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.

"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.

"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.

"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"

Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.

Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"

"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.

Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.

"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.

"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.

Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."

"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"

Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."

Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"

"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.

Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.

Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.

"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.

Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.

Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."

"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.

"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.

"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.

Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.

You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.

He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.

"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."

"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."

DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune

[mer-acle]

i hold all the power (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Give me...

The big athena hcs

I desire knowledge and inspiration (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Haha

You kinda put me on the spot there. Not bc I don't have big headcanons but bc I'm like how do I phrase this without being like "here's the plot of that fic I wrote" yk? And now I'm unsure what constitutes a big headcanon... so I'm just gonna give you some more random ones and maybe you can help me out with what you were thinking of? (O.O)

For Epic specifically: Her owl form is a dark barn owl, bc they're really pretty and rare and have ginger feathers that match her hair

She dislikes Poseidon so much because he's so much like her father but her perception of him isn't softened by the love she has for Zeus.

Prometheus really saved her after Pallas's death. He kinda filled the void that losing Triton as a paternal figure had left more so than that of Pallas herself, but he took her along for his little creation projects (like the humans whoops) and they really match each other's freak. Yk. Until Zeus takes Prometheus away and definitely forbids Athena from visiting. I will literally murder him one of these days.

Speaking of Zeus taking people away, Athena was STRUGGLING after Pallas. Unsurprisingly, but still. Nobody but Hephaestus knows her from when she was still pretty openly mourning, they're all too young, and he never really asked why, but my girl was so depressed and lonely. She spend IRL HOURS in Quick Thought rewatching that battle and trying to figure out the moment where she went wrong. She knows Zeus intervened, but it doesn't matter to her, it's her spear, it's her kill. He was all like "for a nymph?" when she asked to take Pallas's name. "well, if you think that is a title worthy of your status..." It was her most open rebellion against his wishes for a while.

Her favorite domain is wisdom, but it's followed by crafting, not war. Don't get me wrong, she enjoys a good fight, but if she had to choose and wasn't worried about Zeus's opinion, she would choose crafting over war any day. The reason in my hc is how the domains are assigned, she was basically born with Wisdom, her powers are all about thought, and Zeus later assigned her with warfare which her powers work well with, but weren't technically meant for it. Meanwhile crafting is her "Passion domain" meaning her power in it literally stems from her intense enjoyment for creating. Imagine "What else can I do" from Encanto, but it's her discovering making clothes for the first time. The angst factor of this obviously being "My life has one mission, create the greatest warrior" Why is that her one mission? Is it the crushing weight of who she has to be?

My favorite bigger concept has to be her relationship with truth. In other words, Athena lies and manipulates her way through life, she is smarter than her father but knows he holds the power, so her council is whatever works in the moment, if she knows it's hopeless, she'll tell him what he wants to hear. Life has become a game for her, a game where she sells her soul for approval, bc she's lost those who loved her unconditionally, and can't trust those around her bc they're all trapped in the game with her, she doesn't want to be the favorite, she needs to be the favorite, it's the only way to survive, the only way for some semblance of safety and control, and yes, she gets along with mortals better than gods because they hold no power over her, they can't threaten the position she's worked so hard to achieve. Until Odysseus compromises a part of her that she hadn't thought she still had. Attachment never felt like danger with Pallas, but it does now, because what does it matter if you're more powerful when you respect the other person too much not to honor their wishes, should they tell you to leave them alone? If asked, she will have to leave, and that's terrifying (None of that would be overly conscious before My goodbye but for me, that breakup deep down always will be Athena being scared of her own feelings and trying to stop it before it goes too far and being at least 15 years too late.)

Woah that got dark lol I just wrote the last section and was like 👀fuck I am projecting SO bad. Like... gods I am so not okay. Jokes on me I thought I had headcanons all I have is trauma lmao

Anyways lol

Hope you liked it, and do let me know if you had something else in mind, I'll do my best :3

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

[nucleo-bang-tan]

Grayscale Pt.3 | JJK

Pairing/s: Jungkook X Reader, Cha Eunwoo X Reader

Rating/s: No detailed explicit content, but wouldn't recommend it for minors.

Genre: Cheating AU, highschool sweethearts, first love, Moving On AU

Word Count: 3.1 k

Warning/s: OC talks to Jungkook, a bit possessive Jungkook, healing, closure, PDA, adopting, pregnancy.

A/N: Not proofread!!! Please leave comments, I would love to hear from you guys. Critique my writing and tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, really appreciate it.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The act of letting someone sucks your life away. Seeing Jungkook again for the divorce was harder than you thought.

Even though he wanted to, he never begged you again to take him back. Both of you knew, clinging onto each other would cause more pain than healing.

"That's not how you play the game! You're cheating." You giggled.

Eunwoo could feel his heart flutter at you being happy, your eyes crinkling into crescents. This was the first time he saw you so cheerful after the incident. He couldn't help but wonder what made Jungkook hurt such a genuine and kind soul.

"I'm not gonna win against you if I don't cheat." He teased.

"So you admit it!" You hit his arm playfully.

"Hey now, violence is not the answer."

There was a moment of laughter followed by silence before you spoke up, "Call me sappy, but I'm going to miss you. Like a lot."

"1 month, huh? I think you can handle it." He said, brushing his hair back.

You couldn't help but well up at the thought of him leaving for that long, "You're supposed to say 'I'm gonna miss you too' dumbass."

He sighed, "Thank you..."

"I should do the thanking here." You chuckled, looking at him nervously.

"Thank you for not laughing at me being a loser at games..." He took your hand in his, "...thank you for being my friend."

His unfeigned tone made you cry out. He knew it was coming, he had to go on his business trip real soon. But he had a few months, which he decided to spend consoling you.

Like he did now, he wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest, tears staining his shirt.

Jungkook and Gaeul left you with serious trust issues. But Eunwoo never left any corners for you to not trust him. It was as if you trusted no one but him.

Your parents, as expected, had the phrase, 'i told you so' written on their faces. They were never happy with your relationship, always hoping you'd marry a guy of their choice. You wondered if that would have been better.

Jungkook's parents visited you a day before your legal seperation. His father went as far as to threaten you to not break off the marriage. It would damage his reputation as a CEO.

Eunwoo politely yet sternly told them to leave and held you as you cried for an hour after that.

Your nights were sleepless. You had been with Jungkook for so long, that you couldn't sleep without his presence. Eunwoo would sacrifice his sleep to sing and hum for you as you tried to sleep.

Most of his attempts would go to vain but he still kept humming for you.

"I-I don't want you to go."

"I have to, Y/n." He hugged you tighter.

Maybe this wasn't the right time to tell you what he thought about you. But this was the only time he had. You were left broken after what Jungkook did, and Eunwoo didn't want risk your comfort and trust in him.

But he had to tell you.

"Y/n... I-"

You pull back to look at him, eyes red with the tears shed, "Eunwoo?"

How he wished it was him instead of Jungkook. How he wished Jungkook would have never met you, then you'd find a real man (Eunwoo) to cherish you.

He remembered the first time he saw you in college, stumbling in late to a lecture because you were messing around with Jungkook. Your hair a bit unkempt but nothing too wild.

He remembered how you sat beside him and he couldn't help but ask you your name. The two of you immediately clicked.

He remembered how his stomach dropped when he heard you had a boyfriend. He was still extremely close to you, despite you already having Gaeul as your 'best friend.'

He remembered the night where he actually fell for you. The night where your friends left to explore a foreign city you visited. Gaeul and Jungkook took advantage of the situation and went missing as well. You and Eunwoo were left alone. Both of you sat in the pool of the hotel, looked at the stars and talked about everything. Until you fell asleep and Jungkook came to carry you back to your room.

He remembered how he felt light headed when Jungkook asked him to plan a proposal for you. But he still smiled and decided to help him. Atleast you were happy, he thought.

He took a deep breath, "I like you. Heck, I may even be in love with you. Please don't take this the wrong way but... I've had feelings for you ever since we first met. I'm not pressuring you or-"

You cut him off with a smile, "Eunwoo, it's okay. I know."

"I wish I could stop myself but- wait. You know?"

You nod, slightly laughing at his nervous state, "I know, Eunwoo. I've always known. But I need time to get over...you know."

"Yes...yes! I don't care if you don't feel the same way, I just had to let you know how I felt."

You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve, "I don't want you to wait for me, I don't know when I'll move on from him, or if I even will move on."

Eunwoo gently wiped away a lingering tear from your cheek, his touch soft and reassuring. "I'll wait for you, Y/n. No matter how long it takes. You deserve to heal at your own pace."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, "Thank you, Eunwoo. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Did you get everything?" You asked.

"Calm down, I'll be alright. But you're the one who needs to take care." He held your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb to warm you up a bit.

It was already time for him to go. So, you along with a few of your friends were here on a chilly morning to bid him farewell.

After sharing a few hugs, he finally approached you for a hug, to which you responded by jumping onto him making him stumble back a bit.

You hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest, taking in his scent. You laughed, "Who said I wasn't going to tease your loser ass?"

Eunwoo couldn't help but hug you tighter. He couldn't do it again for another month, he tried to memorize every soft detail of your embrace.

It didn't take long for your laughter to seize. A person caught your attention. He stood there with a long trench coat and every recognisable characteristics covered except his puffy eyes. The sight of him brought an unexpected surge of emotions. You hadn't anticipated seeing him here, especially not today.

Jungkook.

What was he doing at the airport?

"Y/n, you're crying. Are you okay?" Eunwoo asked being concerned. He followed your line of sight and realised who caught your attention.

You didn't even realise you were crying until Eunwoo pointed it out. Jungkook stood at a fair distance. You noticed he was alone.

The two of you just stared at each other, you didn't want to talk to him and he understood that.

You felt a warm hand on your cheek. Eunwoo turned your head to look at him.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay." The approaching panic attack you felt was suddenly subdued with his words.

He leaned in to kiss your tear-stained cheek. He looked straight in your eyes when he said, "I love you. Believe me on that, yeah?"

"P-Please be safe." You tried your best not to look at your ex-husband; you focused your eyes onto the man in front of you.

"I'll see you soon." He held you in his arms one last time, only to let go hesitantly. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook looked at you and Eunwoo, he had no right to be angry, he had no right to want to kick Eunwoo in the balls. He chuckled bitterly at his own thoughts.

Jungkook didn't know why you were here, he didn't know how you noticed him in a crowded space. He swallowed thickly and maybe it was the fact that he just wanted to disappear from your sight, but he turned around and decided to quickly walk away with his luggage.

He initially walked briskly but he resorted to running a few seconds in. His empty stomach didn't take him very far though; he stumbled and fell onto his knees in a scarcely crowded area of the airport.

Seeing you happy brought all the memories flush back to him. Your touch, your voice, your smile, your eyes, you was all he could think of. He doubled over in pain, quietly sobbing into his palms, his luggage laying beside him. Crying had become a second nature by now.

It clawed him from inside, you were his and only his but he knew he could no longer have you. He wanted to bawl out loud, beg you to start everything over again, but he had promised himself to stay away from you.

Fate had other plans though, he was returning to Seoul from his hometown when he saw you with Eunwoo and a bunch of close friends. The ones who used to his friends as well.

Jungkook looked at his shaky palms which were wet from his tears. He had good friends, a good work-life balance, and the best of all, he had you. But now his colleagues and employees were doubting his abilities due to his bad performance at work.

He'd never be present at his office after the divorce. One would always find him at his house or at the gym, jabbing the life out of the punching bag till he fainted.

It took him 15 minutes to realise it was extremely chilly at the airport, he decided to gather himself and sit in the car. Sure, he couldn't stop crying, but atleast he could smell the vanilla scented car freshner you had bought.

He leaned his head back, his nose taking in your favourite scent.

A knock on the window startled him. It was as if he was dreaming, and he probably was. Because it was you.

You opened the car door and got in the passenger's seat, "Glad to know you still kept the car freshner."

Now, Jungkook didn't have any issues with breathing, ever. But today, his lungs stopped working. It was you. You were in his car, but why?

"Y-Y/n..."

You looked like you had been crying as well but at the moment, you were neither sad nor happy, you just looked pissed.

You sighed, "Did you eat today?"

The question was so simple, so casual. But it hit something inside Jungkook's heart. He leaned down towards you, as if bowing to you and let his tears flow.

"I asked you something..." You said, trying to be cold. He looked you in the eyes and shook his head.

He didn't want to put you in a position where you had to take him back, but he still took your hands in his, "I was such-"

He was cut off by you repelling from his touch, "Please don't touch me, Jungkook. I'm not here to forgive you."

"O-oh, I'm so fucking sorry." He sniffed.

"You look awful."

"You look beautiful, as always." He said sincerely, making you blush a bit.

"I'm here because I care for you. Don't get the wrong idea but, I don't think I'll ever stop caring for you, Jungkook. Why aren't you looking after yourself?"

Jungkook was flustered by your suddeness. He had expected you to have moved on by now. But the fact that you were crying a while ago and you were here, in his car, said otherwise.

"It just isn't the same." He croaked out.

"Ofcourse it isn't, Jungkook. I wonder why."

"Y/n, I know you hate me, I know you don't want me anymore. But I don't want you to be kind to me." He closed his eyes, "Please curse at me, hit me, let it out. It's just me."

"It's not just you. I don't know you. You're a stranger to me." You said coldly.

Jungkook didn't answer, it was more like he couldn't answer. He looked down at his palm, which weren't shaky anymore. It was you who calmed him down.

You sigh, "I assume you have been talking to Gaeul?"

"I haven't, I don't even intend to."

"I called her a couple of months ago. She was livid at you. Said she'll slap you the next time she sees you." You chuckled, "She told me a lot about how you guys began and stuff. But it was the last time I'll ever talk to her."

He wiped his runny nose, "I guess you know about the time I threw her out of our house."

"Your... your house."

"Right, my house." He corrected himself.

After a moment of silence, Jungkook raised his head to look at you. He saw the love of his life looking outside the window. You looked as beautiful as the day he asked you out, if not more.

"Y/n, I-I love you."

You turned towards him to see a man who used to be the love of your life. He looked barely alive, barely living. Yet, somehow, his eyes were as pretty as always. But they didn't hold the universe you saw around a decade ago. They were just pretty eyes.

"You know there's a theory, if you stop loving someone, it means you never loved them in the first place. Love can never go away.

I probably won't ever stop loving you. But I don't want you, Jungkook. I've moved on."

"I-I know, I understand." Even though he knew, there was a huge part of him that wanted you to come back. That wanted you all to himself.

"Would you have kept the affair going if I never found out?" You asked.

"No, no! I wanted to stop, I promise. It started as a way for stress relief when you weren't available, but then..."

You scoff, "Then what, Jungkook? You loved to cheat on me, is it? You just loved to humiliate me? Makes sense."

Your tone didn't sound like yourself. You've never talked to Jungkook in this way, but then again, you couldn't keep it in anymore.

"Y/n, please, trust me. I've never wanted anyone but you. I've never loved her, I've never enjoyed the sex more. I just... don't know."

"You just loved the thrill of it all, didn't you. Cheating on your girlfriend, then on your fucking wife. How fucking far were you willing to go for sex?" A single tear rolled down your cheek.

Jungkook wished he could say otherwise. He wished he would've thought with his heart rather than his dick. All he could do was mutter sorry's.

"I forgive you, Jungkook." You said looking away.

His breath hitched as he heard the words come out of your mouth.

"I forgive you. The only thing you can do for me is take care of yourself and move on."

"I-I don't think I can." He sobbed, his stomach did flips that made him nauseous.

You finally touched him and intertwined your fingers with his, it was familiar but it didn't feel like home anymore.

"Cook for yourself, eat better, yeah?" You smiled.

"I can't do this without you, Y/n."

"You can, I know you can."

"I can't, I fucking can't. Please..."

You slowly let go of his hand as he kept saying 'no'.

"I'm sorry, baby." You whispered, "I have to leave."

You opened the car door and got out. Jungkook wished he could see you clearly, but his vision was blurred. You waved a final goodbye and gently closed the door.

As he saw you walk away, he noticed you took the car freshner with you, a subtle way to let him move on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Eunwoo!" You rushed over to him and captured him in an embrace. He twirled you around as you both laughed.

His month long business trip had already ended and he had just returned to Seoul.

He let you down and spoke, "How have you-"

He was cut off by you pulling him extremely close to you face. Your noses were touching and lips only a few millimetres away.

Eunwoo's eyes widened. He was definitely dreaming. Or did the plane crash on his way back and he was in heaven?

"I've not done this before but..." You said softly, "Would you go out with me?"

"I think you know what I'll say to that." He closed the distance between your lips.

It was like the two of you were alone at the airport. The nasty glares from strangers didn't exist, nor did any other problem in the world.

Eunwoo would be happy even if the world ended this very moment. But then again, he wouldn't get to love you enough.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook exhaled softly as he blinked his eyes, trying to wake up. He slowly pushed himself up and sat against the headboard.

He shivered, ofcourse. It was too cold without you. It had been 5 years already but no morning went without a thought of you.

As an unhealthy daily habit, he took his phone from the side table. Instinctively, his thumb went to Instagram to stalk you. His eyebrows furrowed realising you changed your profile picture.

This didn't seem right to him. Why was Eunwoo holding you like that? He decided to check your feed. Something wasn't right. There was a recent post from you.

A post announcing your pregnancy.

It took him a full minute to process what was happening. You were having a baby, with someone that wasn't him.

He blinked back his tears, reading the caption, 'You're gonna be the best father.' with a photo of Eunwoo holding your slightly large belly.

He reminded himself, there was more to live for. He should've moved on by now but he simply couldn't. His thoughts were so loud that he couldn't hear small footsteps. The person climbed onto the bed and peeked into his phone.

"Is that mommy?" He asked making Jungkook snap out of it.

"Ah, Jaehyun." He took the 7 year old in his arms.

"Isn't that mommy, daddy?" The child persisted.

"No, Jaehyun. She's just a woman I love."

"So, she's mommy?"

He sighed. How would he explain this to a 7 year old? Jungkook didn't want to bluntly tell him that he was adopted and didn't have a mother.

"Let's go for a walk with Bam. I'll tell you everything about the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

[kuroneko1815]

The maze scene but make it silly and with innuendos

Because I always make fun of Callisto being the one to instigate the silly, I want Penelope to do it this time. This came about after re-reading that scene when they first meet and I thought… what could she say differently that was just so silly. With help from @eloise175, also… we really shouldn’t be left alone together.

Callisto holding a sword to Penelope’s throat looking menacing and mocking: Why do you love me? Go on, tell me why you fell in love with me?

Penelope: Because you’re shiny!

Callisto freezes in shock: Shiny? (He’s been called many things, most of them weren’t good but never shiny!)

Penelope thinking back to her reputation: I like shiny things and your hair looks like spun gold and your eyes look like rubies.

Callisto: ??? (Just stares at her, sword steady and level as he tries to process what happened.)

Penelope internally: Oh thank god, I can escape now. (Tries to back away subtly but is foiled.)

Callisto: What else?

Penelope thinks back to all the stereotypical western teenagers and in Korea from her world and time, all those things she studied to fit in with her new classmates at university: You’re hot.

Callisto: I’m what?

Penelope: You have a handsome face and probably a fine body under those clothes from all the training you do. It makes me drool just thinking about it and I want jump you. (Penelope in her mind: maybe I should just die, it would be better if he killed me now.)

Callisto: … (Callisto.exe has crashed; please reboot)

Callisto tries to save face: It seems more like you’re in lust with me, rather than in love.

Penelope: Is there a difference right now? I haven’t talked to you, and I’ve only seen you in passing. Love and lust are the same right now.

Penelope: Also, your voice is fine and smooth like butter.

Callisto: I don’t understand?

Penelope: It means I like your voice, it’s nice and seductive. (Penelope eyes possible exists and just keeps saying things without thinking them through.)

Penelope: You’re such a babygirl

Callisto: Did you just call me a babygirl? (Now he does feel some indignation)

Penelope: Yes I did, you know, you’re so good looking I just wanna take care of you. You’re so scrunkly.

Callisto: What does that even mean? I think you’re just making up words.

Penelope: Scrunkly, an animal or creature that’s weird or unorthodox but still so cute.

Callisto: Did you just… just call me an animal?

Penelope: Well, if you’re an animal, I think mating season has come. (Penelope is dead, very dead. She can feel her soul leaving her body with each word she says and yet she can’t stop. Still, she’s resorted to dropping innuendos in hopes that he’d be so weirded out that he’d walk away without killing her.)

Callisto is shook. He knows the adopted daughter of Eckhart was crazy but not this crazy or wanton… and yet… it was appealing and exciting.

Penelope gestures to his pants: Well, I don’t much care for the sword at my neck, but you can definitely pierce me with the one down there any time. Think of me like something to conquer. (Abort, abort, abort. She thinks desperately. Shut up.)

Despite her wishes, her mouth keeps moving, and not towards rationality, it just prolongs her torture. Death by beheading wasn’t so bad, at least she’d stop talking.

Penelope: If someone asked me what I wanted for dinner, it’s you. I’m so hungry, I want a taste.

Callisto eyes her in shock. These were not words that should be coming out of a Lady’s mouth, he didn’t think he’d ever heard phrases come out of anyone’s mouth before. It was bawdy without actually being too vulgar. He wants to be offended, he really does, but…

Penelope: Please? I’m thirsty, can I have a sip? Just a sip, please? I promise I don’t bite… much. (Penelope internally: Can I turn on that damned game system now? Please?)

Penelope: If we got stuck in a closet, one of us would be walking out pregnant, and it wouldn’t be me.

Eventually, Callisto lets her go, too surprised and shook to actually process everything, especially the last part because that wasn’t possible at all, unless she was a powerful mage. And Penelope leaves no worse for wear, except her dignity, that died a traitor’s death.

-

-

BONUS: The Cave Scene: Or Callisto gives his rebuttals because you can damn well know that he’s not letting this go and it’ll live rent free in his mind. And she’s avoided him when he tried to press her for more coherent answers, had even neglected to reply to him.

Penelope waking up in the cave: GAHH!!! Why are you naked? (Covers her eyes)

Callisto: Why are you covering you’re eyes? You wanted to see what was under my clothes anyway, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. You certainly didn't.

Penelope: You… you shameless pervert.

Callisto: Oh? I'm the pervert now? What happened to the audacious woman who kept saying such filthy things to me to seduce me?

Penelope stares at him with a look of disbelief.

Callisto: Oh? How could you be so cold to me? Aren’t I scrunkly? Aren’t I your babygirl?

Penelope: … I'm going back to sleep.

Penelope can't actually sleep and keeps having flashbacks to it, Callisto hugs her, and tells her the story. And the conversation proceeds the same. Except instead of asking her what she liked about him…

Callisto: So, is your assessment correct, Princess?

Penelope: What?

Callisto: Is my body as 'fine' as you thought? Am I really that hot?

Penelope without thinking: Yes (Realizes what she said and blushes and buries her face into his chest and then almost dies of embarrassment when she realizes what she just did)

Callisto: It certainly seems like it based on how you're reacting.

Penelope: …

Callisto: My sword is ready for the piercing and the conquests.

Penelope bites her lips unable to say anything because he’s responding to everything she’s saying. She realized he’s pulled the ultimate reverse uno on her, and weeks after the fact too.

Callisto: Are you hungry? We can have a small snack if you want. But why stop at a sip and a taste? Let’s make this into a full meal!

Penelope: …

Callisto: Perhaps my voice alone can get you ready, we’d need to mop up after we’ve spilled our drinks.

Penelope admits to herself that he does have an amazing voice. But she’s still refusing the temptation. She wants to live thank you very much.

Callisto: We’re both still overdressed it seems. We really need to read the invitations carefully. This cave has a zero clothing policy.

Penelope tries to shut him up, when he stops her from slapping him, she kisses him which was the wrong move, or maybe it was the right one? Because it eventually devolved.

Callisto when they finally stopped: Respectfully, Emperor Claudius himself couldn’t pull me out of you. (Callisto thinks of his famous ancestor, an accomplished general, who had a story about a sword in a stone who won the throne over his half brother.)

In the aftermath, Penelope would wake up in a tangle of limbs, naked, and very well ‘conquered’ by the Crown Prince. She also gets to live, survives the game and all. And… exactly nine months after that night, a little dragon like girl was born to them. They named her Judith.

But Callisto, the new Emperor had one last thing to say to his wife as they hold their new born later not even minutes after she’s handed to them: Well, it wasn’t exactly locked in a closet, but I wasn’t the one who walked out of there pregnant.

Penelope smiles sweetly at him, motions for him to come closer so she can kiss him. He leans forward eagerly, closes his eyes. Penelope taking advantage of it, shifts Judith in one hand and slaps him hard.

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 21: Love

Word Count: 2362 Rating: General Summary: Despite how much time you have been spending with Din and getting to know him, you are still none the wiser as to whether your feelings for him are reciprocated. But an impromptu night of stargazing leads to a confession that may just change everything for the two of you... Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: Obsessed with the mental image of Din being a dork and saying wizard if you ever told him you loved him! The scene in Barbie where Ken leaves to shout "SUBLIME!" yep... I could imagine Din doing something similar. Also a bit of a prequel to this whole Dincember universe I am creating. I may run with this in future and turn reader into an OC because I really love writing a dynamic like this! Hope you enjoyed this one!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

It had been such a draining day at work that the only thing keeping you sane was the knowledge that you had plans that evening to visit Din in his little cabin and spend some quality time with him and Grogu. One might expect that doing archival work on Nevarro was a pretty low-stress job but it seemed that today, every single last one of your colleagues had come to you with some demand or other. Half the time, you expected they were doing it purely to get a rise out of you and test your patience. You were, after all, the newest member of the team.

Mercifully, it was finally the end of the day. As you made your way out of the building, you realised how exhausted you were. Your limbs felt heavy, as though all energy had been sapped out of you. If it weren’t for the date you had arranged with Din, you would probably have had a scalding hot sonic shower before clambering into your cot, hiding behind thick blankets from the world.

But that wasn’t to be the case. There was a certain Mandalorian whom you were very fond of awaiting your arrival. Given Din’s adherence to the Creed, there were a somewhat limited number of ways for the two of you to spend time together, that did not mean his inability to remove his helmet was an issue. The two of you often went for strolls around Nevarro; Din would sometimes meet you after work or on a day off and the two of you would hit the market. You sometimes wished that you could take him to your favourite eateries and cantinas to feast and drink the evening away, and enjoy time with him there. But you were growing so close to him that you almost forgot you had never seen his face.

It was strange, really. You knew that a face should be such a large part of getting to know who a person was. After all, a face comprised many elements that made a person who they were. You had always heard phrases like ‘eyes are a window to the soul,' with no previous reason to question their validity. But now you felt that you perfectly understood the man Din was, despite having never set eyes upon his face. From the moment you had met Din, you felt instantly drawn to him. You felt safe and comfortable in his presence almost immediately which was rare for you, especially after seeing the way he cared for Grogu. Yet, there was so much about Din that remained a mystery to you.

Despite the sides of Din that you were yet to see, you knew unquestionably that you were falling in love with him. From the moment you had met him, you felt as though any second spent without him was torturous. His deep voice and comforting presence were always the last things on your mind at night. Din was the first person you thought of when you woke up. Being with him, regardless of where you were or what you were doing, was exhilarating. As was any time you communicated on your comlinks, his messages usually left you grinning broadly. Plus, it was thoughts of seeing Din and Grogu that saw you through your most hectic, draining days. Just like today.

Yet, you still had no idea whether he felt the same way about you. Did he merely view you as a good friend, or was there any possibility that he loved you, too?

You had no idea if Din was even permitted to feel love as part of his Creed, or if he could, whether he could love someone who was not Mandalorian. You could not imagine that he was prejudiced against those who were not Mandalorian. You had certainly never felt such coldness from him or seen anything that indicated he held such beliefs. But his personal feelings would probably not have mattered, especially given how strict some aspects of the Creed appeared to be. 

You were reasonably certain that Din, at the very least, enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him. He always made an effort to see you whenever he was back on Nevarro between jobs, and even when work with the New Republic took him away, the two of you kept in regular contact via your comlinks. But you remained unsure to what extent his care for you was borne out of a desire to ensure that the person he had brought to this planet and secured a job for was adjusting... or to what extent it could be evidence of deeper feelings for you. 

Feelings like these were confusing and, after the stressful day you had, you had resolved not to spend every single second with Din agonising over whether his every little word or gesture was some subtle clue as to his feelings about you. You knew you should probably gather the courage to ask him for yourself. After all, you could not imagine that a man who seemingly cared for you as deeply as Din did would have an overly negative reaction. 

Despite your vow to yourself, your mind was overactive. As you sat playing with Grogu on the floor of the cabin while Din tidied away the dishes from the meal you had just enjoyed together. (Well, almost together. Din had eaten his meal with you in the kitchen, but he sat at the counter rather than joining you and Grogu at the table. He ensured too that your back was turned to him so you did not inadvertently glimpse any part of his face). You could not stop fantasising about evenings like this becoming your everyday life. Living in this cabin with Din and Grogu, enjoying every mealtime and evenings playing with Grogu just like this. You could see it so clearly before you that you almost wanted to cry. It was a cruel game that you were playing with yourself, daring to believe that a man as incredible as Din Djarin could ever love you. 

Before those depressing thoughts could continue any longer, though, Din returned from the kitchen. You were instantly brought out of your ruminations at the sound of his approaching footsteps.

“I hope he’s not being too much trouble for you,” Din said as he leaned down to pat Grogu’s head lightly, before he took a seat in front of you on the couch.

“Never,” You shook your head. You genuinely meant it too, you loved spending time with Grogu.

“You’re so good with him,” Din said as he stretched his arms across the back of the couch, his legs spread.

You swallowed. Both his words and the position he was in had moved something deep inside you. “Thank you,” You said quietly, looking down away from Din as you felt the way your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. 

The moment passed and you resumed playing with Grogu. You were trying to show him how to stack wooden blocks without using the Force, to improve his dexterity. But there was a certain mischievous side to the little green child and he kept levitating the blocks when he thought you weren’t looking. You were also painfully aware that Din was watching the two of you interact. His unrelenting gaze made you feel incredibly shy. 

“I was thinking, after I put Grogu down in his crib, perhaps we could sit outside together so I could show you some of the constellations visible in the sky on Nevarro?” Din said, you thought you detected a hint of nervousness in his usually steady voice. “It gets so dark out here away from some of the lava flats that you can see so much.”

“I’d love that, Din,” You smiled at him.

“Okay,” Din nodded as he stood up from the couch and scooped Grogu into his strong arms. “Time for bed, buddy.”

You stood up and leaned down to kiss Grogu’s wrinkled forehead. “Goodnight, little guy,” You whispered.

You stood back and looked up at Din. Your cheeks were burning once more, as you realised how intimate that gesture had been. In the moment it just felt natural and completely right. Din remained silent, save for the shaky breath he released. You suddenly felt extremely awkward. 

“I’ll, um…” You started, “I’ll wait for you outside, Din.”

You turned your back and bolted from the cabin before you could embarrass yourself further by overstepping your mark. You paced up and down anxiously, before folding your arms, looking towards the stars and inhaling deeply the cool air of the Nevarrian night. You knew that you really needed to pull yourself together and have a conversation with Din about your feelings. Feeling constantly on edge like this could not continue. Now that you were slightly more composed, you turned towards the cabin and waited for Din to return.

When Din emerged from the cabin, you noticed two things. Firstly, how he had removed his armour and was wearing form-fitting cotton clothes that accentuated his muscular body. Secondly, he was walking towards you with what appeared to be a blanket, ready for your impromptu stargazing session. 

“It gets cold at night,” Din explained when you closed the distance between the two of you and nodded towards the blanket. “Thought we could sit on the bench and put this over us.”

You made your way to the porch and made yourself comfortable on the bench that was scarcely wide enough for two adults, but the two of you made it work. Din was impossibly close, the warmth emanating from his body as the two of you sat pressed up against each other, shoulders, arms and legs all touching. As you sat there, your eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, you marvelled at how correct Din was. The view of the stars from this area of Nevarro was nothing short of breathtaking; it seemed as though you could see every single star twinkling brightly. 

“I forgot to ask earlier, how was your day?” Din asked, finally breaking the companionable silence that the two of you had been enjoying. 

“It was…” You paused, struggling to find words. “Not the best,” You eventually added, settling on a diplomatic answer.

“Why? What happened?” Din questioned, concernedly.

“I just feel like all my colleagues hate me. It feels like they want to give me the most difficult, time-consuming tasks possible,” You said honestly. “It feels like everywhere I go, sooner or later, everyone winds up hating me.”

“How could anyone hate you?” Din shook his head incredulously. “I mean… you’re so… amazing. The way you treat Grogu, it makes me so happy that the two of you get on. That’s… important to me,” Din exhaled deeply.

“Thank you, Din,” You said sincerely, appreciating the warmth that his words provoked in you as the sensation spread throughout your body. “And this was a great idea. I can’t believe how clear the stars are here.”

“Oh, that reminds me! I almost forgot!” Din exclaimed as he stood up. “I was going to get some binocs so you could see the stars more clearly. I’ll be right back.”

Din disappeared off into the cabin and you mulled over his words as you awaited his return. He had called you amazing and indicated that having a good relationship with Grogu was important to him. Surely that meant he placed a great deal of importance on your relationship, platonic or otherwise? But before you could ponder it any further, Din emerged with the binocs and stood with his broad back to you, holding them to his T-visor to ensure they functioned. He sighed deeply as he glanced toward the heavens. 

“I’ve had my fair share of people out there who hated me too, you know,” Din said, your earlier conversation clearly still weighing on his mind as he turned around to hand the binocs to you.

“Oh, Din,” You sighed, then added without thinking: “I can’t believe anyone would fail to be completely and hopelessly in love with you from the second they met you.”

For a moment you froze. You had just as well admitted how you felt for him, this was never how you had planned for this conversation to go. Although you did not regret finally vocalising your feelings for Din, you had never intended for it to slip out so casually. 

“Do you mean that you…you love me?” Din asked quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists that hung at his sides.

“I do,” You said quietly with a firm nod of your head. Your pulse was thundering in your ears as you admitted something that you had been withholding for months.

The vocoder amplified the way Din swallowed thickly. For a brief moment you wished you could see what his face looked like as you awaited his response. 

“Wizard,” Din finally said cheerfully, the grin evident in his voice despite the helmet. 

You shook your head slightly, in disbelief that his response to such a moment was such a dorky slang word. Despite his appearance, all hulking in his gleaming unpainted Beskar, which probably terrified almost everyone that he encountered, this man was completely different underneath his armour.

“I love you too,” Din finally said. 

You stood up from the bench and without thinking, you threw your arms around Din's neck, giddy with the happiness that his confession had provoked within you. Din laughed heartily and brought his arms around your waist.

You were immensely relieved; there would be no more agonising over whether Din loved you too. You now knew unequivocally that he did.

Later, your cheek was resting on Din’s firm chest as the two of you cuddled underneath the thick blankets of his cot. You were relieved that you had finally taken the step and defined the nature of your feelings towards each other. Never again would you doubt how deeply Din cared about you. You buried your head into his warm, broad chest and giggled softly. Remembering that Din loved you caused a warmth throughout your body that confirmed one inescapable fact: you were hopelessly in love.

[bookished]

( a collection of starters. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post ♡ if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"Every time she sings, it starts to rain. It's like her voice is connected to the weather."

"He says he can paint portals to other worlds. Do you think it's true, or just a clever illusion?"

"The bookstore at the corner seems to change its layout every time you visit. Yesterday, I found a room full of floating books."

"There's a garden in the heart of the city that never wilts, no matter the season. It's like a piece of eternal spring."

"I saw a cat with eyes that glowed like stars last night. It seemed to be watching over the neighborhood."

"They say a white deer appears in the forest during the winter solstice, granting wishes to those who are pure of heart."

"Every year on the same day, the town is covered in a mist that makes everyone forget their worries. Have you felt its magic?"

"At dusk, the lake glows with an ethereal light, and sometimes, you can see figures dancing on the water."

"The clock tower chimes thirteen times every full moon. No one knows why, but it feels like a call to something."

"Sometimes, the wind carries the scent of flowers that don't grow anywhere nearby. It's like a breath from another world."

"The old man at the pier claims he can talk to fish. Yesterday, he told me about a conversation he had with a whale."

"She has a way of making flowers bloom with just a touch. I wonder what other secrets she holds."

"I found an old pocket watch that, when wound backward, shows moments from the past. What should we look for?"

"There's a room in the old mansion where time stands still. People say those who enter never age."

"Legend has it that the mountain holds a sleeping giant. During thunderstorms, you can hear its heart beating."

"There's a story about a hidden city beneath the waves, visible only during the lunar eclipse. Shall we go searching?"

"I bought this music box at a flea market, and every time it plays, I see glimpses of a different life."

"This old key doesn’t seem to fit any lock I've tried. I wonder if it’s meant to open something magical."

"Whenever she draws something, it comes to life for a brief moment. I've seen it with my own eyes."

"He claims to dream of future events. Last night, he dreamed of you."

"I found a trail in the woods that wasn't there before. It led me to a place that felt like a dream."

"There's a bridge in the village that, when crossed at twilight, takes you to another realm."

"She whispered to me that the stars are actually spirits watching over us. I believe her."

"The old lighthouse keeper says the light guides lost souls home. What if he's right?"

[rise-my-angel]

I love how you phrase it. I criticise ships for being toxic and I get told "it's fiction. Stop being a puritan" and really it's a criticism of them striving for such a harmful thing to happen to the characters. "Oh well it doesn't reflect on my character". I mean, as an example, who wants to see Robb die the way that he did? Nobody sits there and goes, "oh boy, i'm going to watch the most soal destroying scene in Game if Thrones history and I'm going to enjoy it". Nobody enjoys that scene. It's so good exactly because of how much nobody enjoys it. But it's the tropification of such media that makes people think they can list off their demands for the story and expect everything to happen, playing out like a map that gives them a pass through every hurdle for this stuff, so they think they should want these fucked up dynamics to happen, but they also don't want the soul crushing that is involved in those scenarios, like Jon realising he fucked his aunt. They just want the drama without the consequence. Like... Guys you're doing media wrong. I don't know any other way to put it.

I am of the opinion, that there is nothing wrong with taking your own morality, ethics and life experiences, to better connect with a story.

The reason we tell each other stories, is so we can truly bond with one another about the complexities of human life through fictional stories. We do not have to worry about perfectly related to it, because it was never real. But parts of it will always be real to someone in some way. We will always connect to characters through our own lives and morals and it is important that we respect that.

Enjoying dark stories or disturbing content does not make you a bad person, only when you let those disturbing contents dictate how you see the real world is it bad, not the other way around. We can enjoy a show when characters go through bad things they do not deserve, because if it is well written, filmed, acted, it puts you in that scenario and make you root for that character to escape it and get better. It's good not because of the bad, but because we all hope for them to escape the bad before it's too late.

I like that it took a series of traumatic events for Jaime Lannister to reach the point where he was capable of turning his life into something meaningful. But I do not enjoy watching him suffer, nor do I wish it took that trauma in the first place. I like that he fought against a horrible situation, but that doesn't mean I wanted Jaime's hand to be cut off in the first place, or for him to be humiliated and beaten into the mud and mocked. I like watching it, because I hate what is happening. I want to see him get up and fight back, and watching him go through that journey is worth it for where he ends up on the other side.

I like the concept of Jon getting to the exact point Jaime Lannister did, of sacrificing what is considered honorable, to do the right thing. Killing a Queen he is loyal to, to protect his family, his people, and to protect the other millions of people in Westeros from suffering the same fate he just watched one million people brutally perish from. I like the realization that as much as his father raised him to value the right things, Jon comes to his own conclusion that Jaime sacrificed ever having that image in order to do the right thing, instead of the honorable one. That your loyalty and oaths mean nothing if you just stand by and watch as millions of men, women and children burn alive.

I hate the journey that took him there. And not in the same way as Jaime. The journey Jon took was traumatic to the point he will never truly recover. Sleeping with a woman who has kept him hostage for weeks if not months, only to soon after find out that he was related to her in the exact same way he previously thought he was related to his mother? Jon likely would never be capable of a normal relationship after that, he would be traumatized for life and be extremely messed up about it. Likely in the same way that Theons torture and mutilation left him unable to pursue a normal relationship after that trauma.

I do not think anything a shipper could've gotten out of that relationship is worth the harm that it caused. I think, that it is reasonable for me to use my own sense of morality, and my own life experience of relationship based sexual trauma, and determine that it is unhealthy to WANT to see Jon go through all of that, just to get to the few parks that were "romantic". It was not worth it in Jons eyes, so why should it be worth it in mine?

Jon Snow is one of my favourite characters, and I shouldn't want to make him suffer and feel trauma just to see the outcome I want. I don't connect to Jon because he is a prop for my entertainment, I connect to Jon because of my own life experiances make me feel like I relate to his struggles. Why would I ever ENJOY or LOOK FORWARD TO his suffering, just to get him to an end goal I like?

I'd rather Jon not reach that end goal, if the only way is to put him through life changing trauma that he likely will never truly recover from. No one should want that, and they don't. But they refuse to acknowledge that in order to get to that goal the way it did, Jon had to go through those things. Jon had to be put in a complicated amount of pain and suffering that ultimately did not improve his life. But they do not want to look at it. So they ignore the reality of what is being shown, and focus on the small moments that they can ship.

This happened with Ygritte too, they share a scene of banter when south of the wall and it is the only proof they have to point that it was all worth it, when Jon clearly was actually suffering the entire time.

Small pockets of good are not proof it is all good. Abuse is a cycle, and part of that cycle is there are good moments. Moments that remind you why you like this person, and they are by design so that you are not pushed too far too often and decide to leave them. The good does not wash out the bad. Nor the bad, the good. It all adds up to a full image of was this worth enjoying for the pain it put Jon through, and my answer for both his relationships is no.

I don't get to just ignore the suffering it takes to get somewhere for a moment or two of ship worthy content. I can't ignore it and I won't ignore it. Because in my life, I would not be able to ignore the suffering I was put through, so I will not ignore Jons, because my ability to relate to his trauma is part of why I am attached to him. So I do not consider so much harm to be worth such small outcomes when the outcome in the end of the big picture, was just more harm.

Fiction is meant to be related to through your own life and morals, that is how we connect to characters and stories. Because of what in our own lives do we see in the fiction, and how that makes us feel. So I think disregarding the fact that certain ships are the result of putting a character through unfair and unnecessary harm, is not okay behavior.

If you're someone who is not bothered by the trauma Jon goes through in a Jonerys ship, that is your experience of that ship, but you should recognize, that the harm does exist. And you should not want that harm to happen to that character willingly, or turn a blind eye to the harm just to pretend everything is alright and always was.

I respect the art of storytelling to much to pretend that not caring about the harm a character goes through, doesn't somewhat reflect on who you are as a person. It doesn't say everything about you, but I think it says enough.

I think Jonerys is a ship that harms Jon more then it could ever benefit him, and I think it is unfair to the character he is, to want him to go through that inevitable harm just because you enjoy what little good there was, if there even was any in the first place. Because the harm is there, even if you pretend you're not looking at the harm, it's still there, and you know it.

You are just choosing to pretend it's not, to make yourself feel justified.

[thevoiceofthebard]

Chapter 7 - Balgruuf I: Before The Storm

Morndas, 18th of Last Seed 4E201 Evening

Balgruuf

I am the Jarl of Whiterun, Balgruuf the Greater. I enjoy my place, caring for my people as best I can. However, nothing could have prepared me for the headache I face this day. Nothing my father taught me could have prepared me for dragons.

When the reports first came in, I admit I scoffed at the lone scout. Paranoid ramblings, I thought, the product of an overworked soldier's mind. At least until I spotted one of the damned things myself from my balcony during my midday meal. I heard it scream, and felt fire burn in my veins, the fear and desire to fight bursting forth from my soul.

Pity then, my place requires such tedium as this.

"My Lord, please, you must listen. I only counsel caution."

The words of my advisor, Avenicci. Smart enough, and truly a political genius, but at times - like now - his cowardly Imperial blood shows through. Not that I would ever say so to his face.

"If the news from Helgen is true... Well, there's no telling what it means."

Inaction is Avenicci's favorite strategy. Not that action is always the better option, but standing idly by has never been the Nord way. "What would you have me do, then? Nothing?!"

"My Lord, this is no time for rash action. I just think we need more information before we act. I just..."

Inaction again. Even the rumour of the kind of destruction reported at Helgen should be enough to warrant some kind of measure, defensive or otherwise. Politics be damned if it cost me the lives of my people. This is just like the Giant incident from last Frostfall. I look around for some distraction, that the Nine... Eight might grant me the patience to endure this farce of a meeting. Much to my surprise as I find one. Two, in fact. A pair of strangers, stopped at the head of the dining hall by my Housecarl, Irileth. A Dunmer, and the most loyal fighter I've had the fortune to battle alongside, who showed me the true meaning of the phrase, "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

"Who's this then?"

The two strangers sink to their knees and state their names, as Irileth whispiers to me what little she had been told.

"Sven, of Riverwood."

"Talao, of High Rock."

Hmm, a Nord and a Breton. Sven I vaguely recall having entertained at the Huntsman a while back, on one of my nighttime jaunts. The Breton is not familiar to me, though both seem quite comfortable at court. And odd combination, the two of them. Hardly the time for reminiscing, though.

"So, Irileth tells me you were at Helgen. You saw this dragon with you own eyes?" An eyewitness account of the destruction is all I need to convince Avenicci to act... Or more likely, enough to properly overrule his counsel.

Sven shifts slightly; "Not I, my Jarl, but Talao here was present. I merely guided him to you, out of concern for our town's safety."

"Yes, I had a great view of it as the Empire was about to chop off my head. I do a terrible chicken impression."

I blink. "You're certainly..." Blunt, I wish to say. But that would be blunt of me. "Forthcoming about your criminal past."

The Breton grins in response. "Nay, I said they wished to execute me, not that I was guilty of any crime. Regardless, I imagine the threat of a dragon capable of razing an entire town filled with Imperial troops would take precedence over the circumstances of my capture."

Kynareth save me, the man's tongue is inlaid with more silver than my cutlery. But he is certainly correct. "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

"My Lord," Irileth says, "We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger." A dark look crosses her face, and I can imagine the scene playing in her mind. "If that dragon is still lurking in the mounains..."

Surprisingly, Avenicci interject once again, "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him. We should not..."

"ENOUGH!" The vehemence in my voice didn't truly match my emotions. Perhaps it was the thought that anyone would think I would join Ulfric the Storm Cloak. Maybe it was my frustration at practically having to babysit my own counselors instead of mediate an actual discussion. More likely, it's to prevent Irileth from murdering Avenicci where he stands, if the murderous mask on her her face is aught to go by. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people. Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl." To my relief, she salutes and leaves without further issue.

Avenicci, however, looks as though someone had run a rancid potion underneath his nose. "If you'll excuse me, I have other duties to attend."

"That would be best." To be sure, the man is invaluable to my court, and has a knack for thinking through any negative reactions from others. For certain, I'll have him draw up a missive to the Jarl of Falkreath to reassure him of my neutrality and warn him of the dragon. But my first duty is, was, and will always be the safety of those under my banner. Speaking of which...

"Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. As a reward, I shall grant each of you a small token of my esteem.." They both smile, and I lean forward in anticipation of their answers... Well, one of them at least. Sven seems a loyal but simple Nord, but the steel within Talao intrigues me. It did not escape my gaze, the gleam within his eye as he mentioned the dragon. Perhaps there is truth to the idea that Bretons have Nordic blood within them.

"My Jarl," Sven begins, "I am truly grateful for your offer, but the guards you have dispatched to watch over my village is reward enough."

"Nonsense. It is my duty and privilege to protect the people under my care. I wish to honor you personally."

"Well," he looks uncomfortable, but I urge him on with a smile of my own. "In that case, my Jarl, I have just yesterday found myself promised to a beautiful young woman. In no small part thanks to my brave friend here. If you would gift us some livestock to help begin our lives, I would be forever grateful."

"A most reasonable and thoughtful request. I'll discuss the particulars with my steward, but I assure you it will be done before your wedding." A cow and several hogs should be more than sufficient.

"Many thanks, my Jarl."

"And you?" I turn to Talao. "What gift may I bestow upon you?"

"Well, sir, I am but a humble bard. Whereas my friend here is a tree about to set his roots, I am as the wind, travelling wheresoever my story goes. I have little need for material things, but I should truly enjoy performing for your court some day."

"Truly?" A bard, then. Like Sven himself. That would indeed explain much. "You wish only to ply your trade here in Dragonsreach?"

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Jarl. Well, once I replace my instrument, that is." At this, he ruffles his hair, looking rather sheepish for once. "I fear my old one is naught but ash by now."

Hmm. Self-serving, but not selfish... Yes, he'll do, I think. "If that is your desire, it shall be done. Kyne willing, you'll not deafen us as our last bard did, though I use the title loosely. And I imagine far as you are from your home, you'll have many tales to tell us." I stand, and they follow. "Again, I thank you for your service. My blessings on your union, Sven, and may Kyne grants you warm winds and fertile fields." I pause a moment, that my dismissal is clear, and as they turn to leave, I call out, "Talao, a word, if I may?" The two share a glance, and a brief farewell before he returns to face me.

"Yes, Jarl Balgruuf?"

"There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps." To his confused look, I say, "Come, let's find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... Rumors of dragons." As I lead him to a side chamber, my mind is racing with how best to entice Talao into this errand. He may not be a warrior, but I sense that his presence may mean the difference between survival and destruction. I know the stories of what the return of the dragons signifies, but damned if I'll not do my best to avert catastrophe.

Chapter 6 - Ralof II: Before The Storm x Chapter 8 - Farengar I: Bleak Falls Barrow

[employee1618152017]

[The anon pats the child's head, feeling the tension in his small frame slowly melt away under their touch.] "It’s okay…I’ve got you…." [The child sniffled, his small body trembling as he buried his face into the anon's chest.] “Shh… it’s alright... I’m here."

[The anon whispered, their heart breaking at the sight of the child. They gently rubbed slow, soothing circles on the child’s back, hoping to fill the void of love he’d been starved of for so long.]

"You don’t have to be scared anymore…" [There in that small space, a child too young to have been hurt so deeply, and an anon who knew no matter how long they held him, it would never be enough to heal him completely. But still, they would try. And try as they might.]

 [They rocked him gently, their hand never leaving his back. The small, repetitive motion is an effort to make up for the child’s neglected heart. A motherly touch of some sorts— a touch that soothed without asking for anything in return, that promised safety and care without words. Each action was filled with the kind of love he should have known but never truly received.]

 "I’ll stay as long as you need..."

[He had been starved for this kind of comfort his whole life, and now, for the first time, he was allowed to take it. They couldn’t change the past, couldn’t erase the scars left on his small, fragile soul, but they could give him what he'd been denied— the warmth of being held without judgment, without condition, just... love.]

[They want him to feel it—the love he should have always had.]

((OOC: Oh lord, tearing up while eating was not what I was expecting when I opened this app…anywaysss I’m looking forward to your animatic! Heaven’s gate’s lyrics hit me right in the feels?? I can totally envision him with the song, and I’m not sure if it's good news for my heart....Oh and also your writing always pulls at my emotions! it reminds me of ORV, like the system message texts. I like it! Narrations like [You feel safe.] just grabs my heart, rips it open, and boil it down in a hot pot of water. ╥﹏╥

Please take some rest and don’t push yourself too hard, Errand! <3 Your hands must be dying from having to draw so much and so fast! ^^))

> [Any kind of composure you had breaks]

> [You feel too safe, too loved]

> [You can’t cry in silence anymore]

> [You let out quiet sobs until-]

> [You can’t help but free a broken scream from the depths of your soul, you feel so much]

> [All your hate, all your love, all your fear, all your anger, all your sadness, all your pain, all your tangled emotions come careening out in the form of muffled yelling and uncontrollable tears]

> [They pause for a moment before continuing to gently rub your back, gently coaxing forward more of your cries]

> [You scream repeating phrases, a fruitless attempt to question God]

> [You choke on your own words, over and over]

> [You’re not asking the anon, you’re not asking yourself. You’re asking the world, you’re asking fate]

> [Whatever did you do to deserve this torture?]

> [You wish someone would tell you what you did wrong]

> [So you yell, you cry, you scream, but nothing will change]

> [And you know that, you know you can’t escape]

> [It’s all you can do to cling to this spark of decaying love in your suffocating darkness]

((OOC: Don’t fret, my dear anon! I’m a very happy boy to get to draw all day. Although you may notice there isn’t any with this one specifically and that’s cus I couldn’t figure out a pose that wasn’t redundant so use ur imagination pls, teehee))

[thesinglesjukebox]

SOPHIE FT. KIM PETRAS AND BC KINGDOM - "REASON WHY"

"Last up today, a reimagined, revisited SOPHIE demo"

[6.82]

Ian Mathers: When someone as brilliant as SOPHIE dies as young as she did, with so much work underway, it's hard not to place too much weight on whatever we're left with. I deliberately avoided looking up any context here; for now, at least, I just want to hear this as a new SOPHIE song I hadn't heard before, with no extra information colouring how I'm hearing it. And it just... sounds good. I love that vocal loop in the background. I will listen to this again, a lot, and I wish this wasn't one of the last times I'll have the experience of hearing a new song from her. [9]

Jonathan Bradley: Sophie's pop avant garde has found a posthumous mainstream presence this year in the from of Charli XCX's Brat, and while that album has its highs, it is thrilling to hear this much focus and intensity restored to a sound that had come to be dominated by event and memification. The hook, a quasar emission from an astral Kim Petras, resists literal interpretation ("in your mind/in your eye/take a little look inside"), but Sophie's heady club thump makes it sound soul-piercing, a dance taking place in the cavernous space of the psyche as much as upon a physical floor. A song of dark spaces punctuated by brilliant neon, its power is in its sense of purpose, even if the ultimate reason why is to surrender corporeal form and be subsumed into gleam and thump. It doesn't quiet its anguish so much as make it vaporous — photonic even. A bonus: Petras has never found a party so conducive to her inconstant but palpable talent; she should drop by here more often. [9]

Katherine St. Asaph: Better as a reflection of SOPHIE's mythology than her music, or even her experimentalism; the tinny synth chords just recall "California Gurls." [5]

Tim de Reuse: For all the people who cite her as inspiration, for all the breathless praise and all her purported influence, it's striking that years after SOPHIE's passing even her disciples have never replicated her particular alchemy. I think it's just that nobody has the chutzpah to arrange a mix like she does. Ultra-clean, ultra-crisp, overstuffed trop-house, all sharp edges, no air; Kim Petras wailing, half-coherent, dragged along by Sophie's velocity and struggling to keep up. BC Kingdom sound lost. A real earworm is halfway to irritation, she's saying. A real earworm has claws. [9]

Brad Shoup: Because it's by SOPHIE, I'm looking for angles that may not exist: something more playful than the club-synth murmur or Petras' over-it posing. BC Kingdom try to bring things into the realm of the existential, or the interpersonal; Petras pats them on the head and sends them to the bar. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: The drums were Benny's fault. Everyone else was fine -- the drums are just wack and ill-fitting. This is how you fail your sister's legacy. Will look into BC Kingdom though. [3]

Andrew Karpan: It’s moving, the way you can hear the mummers of SOPHIE’s wafting, digital haze move through and surround KP’s more direct, and more mildly anonymous, manner of positioning herself as a neo-disco diva, everywhere and nowhere like a gentle fog.    [6]

Taylor Alatorre: True to her words, the Kim Petras hook is engineered to make it sound like it's unspooling from within your own mind, "in your eyes," like it's always been in there and just required this elephant stomp of a bass drum to be dislodged. The pitching-up is complemented by the babyish way she slurs her phrases, amplifying the pre-verbal and almost primordial appeal of the sentiment -- by the song's end, we know what the reason why is, even if we don't know any words for it. The soul-searching aspects of the hook heighten its contrast with the rote hedonism of Petras' verse, and when hook and verse are overlaid, something rare emerges: a Sad Party Song that gracefully reveals itself rather than announcing itself loudly at the entrance. I hope that I'd still be hearing these things if the song had arrived under the originally intended circumstances, but there is no vacuum-sealed bubble in which to evaluate and enjoy music sans context. Even if there were, why would you want to deprive yourself by listening to Sophie that way? [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: A perfectly decent Cashmere Cat song that makes me feel a deep and unabating melancholy. [4]

Alfred Soto: Why listeners will love it is what sharpens my resistance: that high-pitched "reason why" sample repeated ad infinitum. The clickety beat and the warmth of BC Kingdom and Kim Petras need air to breathe. Nevertheless, an example of the late SOPHIE's talent. "Can't people like you love people like me? (And I know the reason why)" is the most empathetic queer lyric I've heard this year. [7]

Leah Isobel: I hate talking about transness like it's mysticism. It's corny and feels like chaser language -- as if I'm not a human woman but some sort of unicorn beamed in from Venus, look at my magical sexy body. I get where it comes from, but most of the time I'd rather have my feet on the ground, have a body that I can just move and sleep and fuck in or whatever. Mysticism pushes myself away from myself: I rationalize and explain my choices, as if they need to be rationalized and explained and justified, and as if the only possible justification can come from the divine. I do not feel divine when I inject estradiol; I feel a little pain, and then some itching as the puncture heals. I do not feel divine at the electrologist's office; I feel an hour and a half of pain that I gladly pay for and will pay for again in two to three weeks once my skin heals. I did not feel divine doing surgery consultations over Zoom or paying $300 to get my name and gender legally changed. I pay the money, I jump through the hoops, and I land back on the earth the same as I was.

The first time I heard "Reason Why" was... so long ago that I can't remember now. SOPHIE played it in live sets for years; it circulated online as "It's Your Life," BPM sped up as all of SOPHIE's songs were at the time. (Shout out to all the girls who heard the live rip of "Vroom Vroom" as "Let's Ride" almost ten years ago and knew something good was about to happen.) The clearest version came from Nina Las Vegas' NTS radio show in 2019, its tempo vaguely manic, the synth baubles rubbery and harsh rather than soft and pearlescent. In that iteration, the part that stuck to me was Kim's verse: "Pop a couple in Ibiza / Getting money like a DJ," hilarious and wistful and stupid, God bless the slant rhyme. It felt cyborg-mechanical, a pumped-up power fantasy. I needed that fantasy because I felt that the most valuable, most fun part of my life was over. The shock and joy and blessed emotional volatility of the first year of medical transition had worn down to a nub, and I came back to the same life I had before, stuck in dirty New York snow, acting like I wasn't freezing.

Now, listening to this final version, I hear that girl like she's standing next to me: I hear her desire to be invulnerable, loved endlessly, catapulted into a juvenile fantasy. I hear how afraid and how disconnected she -- I -- was from her -- my -- body. I hear how thoroughly I absorbed the messages I received about how I was most valuable when I was available, fuckable, disposable, and how turning 25 felt like the end of the world because it meant I wouldn't be that way forever. In my creative life, I imagined myself as invulnerable and evanescent, named Angel, wearing elf ears and stick-on jewels; in my regular life, I was tired all the time, letting myself evaporate. I wanted to be ethereal more than human, which also made me not human. I read SOPHIE's work as empathetic to that desire, even affirming -- I took a song like "Immaterial" seriously, literally. Looking back, the empathy is there, but SOPHIE's music feels more like it insists on returning me to my body and its immediate physical sensations. The final version of "Reason Why" is softer, slower, deeper than the leaks; the new context pushes Kim's wish-fulfillment fantasies further back, foregrounding the first verse and the basic, elemental question at the heart of the song. Why does there have to be a reason? Why do I need to justify myself? Why should I listen to voices who don't understand me? Why should I minimize my love? Can't people like you love people like me? When it was released I walked into the stockroom at work, put in my headphones, and cried -- my emotions, my soul, my metaphysical heart, expressed through my body, my real body. I love that I can feel, that I can cry, that I can hear. I love what my body can do. I love the real world. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[senslessblackness]

My beloved,

Should I even start by saying that these words might not be able to properly convey my emotions and thoughts? It's better to put it in absolute terms and state, as a matter of fact, that words and phrases will fall short to assist me in what I would like to tell you. See, how horrible I am, that I already need to ask for your forgiveness, for my idiosyncratic way of beginning, and my strange addiction in pointing out the shortfall of these feeble words - no doubt, a metaphor for my own shortfall, my own feebleness.

 Because this is not a letter in which I profess my eternal love for you, and I ask, beg and cajole you to reciprocate. No, this is not about that. I do adore you with all my heart, but how could I ask you to do the same to me? Firstly, because I might feel this way now, I do not see the future, I cannot trust time, I am not a friend of time, for he surprises me regularly, often in the crueles ways, and so I cannot profess my eternal faith to you, no matter the temptation and assurance I feel in this moment. This moment is capricious, fleeting and particular, and love should be stable, lasting and universal, shouldn't it?

 Secondly, could I say that, if I could call you mine, I would feel as if the most precious stone in the whole entire world came into my possession, and I would cherish it, worship it, give my eternal thanks for it to the sky? Yes, I could. And it would be true, and I would dig deep into my soul, and whatever I would find, I would offer to you on a silver platter, to do with it as you wish.

 But no matter, because love, true love, ought to be reciprocal, and I am terrified to be the handler of your deepest being, for I would be forever fearful of doing some kind of damage to it, corrupting it, or even ruining it.

 And further, as I already see you as the peak of creation, as a Goddess on Earth, how could I ask you, how could I expect you, you, to love me, to put up with me, to learn my peculiar ways and accept them, to see them not as flaws but various shines of another diamond, or sapphire, or ruby, perhaps? How could I ask you to love me? How could I ask that of you, when I know myself, not fully, but enough that I am aware of so many imperfections that it would even be a folly trying to count them, so much so that I could only ever see myself as an imperfection incarnate, as a broken being, who might be cured by true, pristine, unconditional love… but no… the risks are too high, and I cannot let anyone take the chance, especially you, my most loved, because what if instead of you lifting me up, it would be me dragging you down, taking away the gleam and splendor and introducing you to a kind of murkiness, kind of obscurity and darkness that would compromise you forever? It's simply not worth the risk.

 So you see, I talk much about myself, and little about you, and that's because this is not a writing to convince you to be with me, no, this here is a justification, a warning, a confession for why you should never consider me as your other half. It would be an undertaking where any positive outcome would be far from certain, and maybe if I was a braver man, I would invite you to dance this dance of life with me, but as I am, I'd rather let you go, for I have no doubt that you are very capable of finding love elsewhere, with someone else, who's not perpetually tormented by thoughts of all kinds, like I am.

 But in the case that you would rather take the chance, in case that you would take this huge gamble, in case, perhaps, that you already do love me, and what I wrote thus far was not the distinguishing of a small candlelight, but the fanning of a forest fire, you will know where to find me, and I will be the happiest man on Earth if I ever saw you there. But if not, of which I'm almost certain, I can only send you my warmest wishes, express my true desire that you do find the kind of love that is so rare in this wretched world, and hope (perhaps I shouldn't write this) that if there is life after death, and our souls will go on living truly eternal lives, that we may cross paths again, perhaps during a time when I'm less conflicted, less anguished, less self-conscious, and then maybe, just maybe, something magical might happen to you and I, because however hard I try, I cannot deny my feeling of longing towards you, to be in companionship with you, for the possibility to explore all the hidden things in you and if I was presented with the challenge of experiencing the darker side of you, the side that you try to hide, but is there nonetheless, I would say yes, yes, a thousand times yes to the opportunity to be there for you, however hard it might be, until we don't think in terms of "You" and "I", but in terms of "Us", and although our individuality would never be lost, we would finally not be alone in a world so large and strange, frigthening and alien, no, we would be together to face the challenges that would inevitably come… but right now, it is me who writes these meager words to you, and I don't know what to add, I don't know how to express myself better, and I don't feel that any addition would contribute anything meaningful to anything, so, here it is, my letter to You.

[mjilightworker]

The Word Explained

The Word Explained

John 1:1  In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

Word from the Greek text is Logos;

G3056 λόγος logos From G3004; something said (including the thought); by implication a topic (subject of discourse), also reasoning (the mental faculty) or motive; by extension a computation; specifically (with the article in John) the Divine Expression (that is, Christ). G3004 λέγω A primary verb; properly to “lay” forth, that is, (figuratively) relate (in words usually of systematic or set discourse.)

Mat 18:11  For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost.

John 1:13-14  Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. 

Luke 8:12  Those by the way side are they that hear; then cometh the devil, and taketh away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved.

Humankind was created and formed into the flesh with the Word already in them. With Christ, the Word became flesh. The Word is spiritual in us. The Word can never be removed from a soul. There can only be a “distance” by which a soul entertains sins-evils. (Rom 2:15, 2Co 3:2)

If Satan, (the representation of evil), taketh away the Word “out of their hearts”, and we know that the Word was in your heart-soul prior to your choosing to taketh away. By way of sin-evils taking the word out of the heart is a flesh association (mind) and is not spiritual or from your spiritual self.

2Co 4:16  For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. (See Also 1Co 15:44, Eph 3:16)

Christ, being the manifestation of the Word, is our example of how the Word lives through the flesh. He came to save the sinners. We are the sinners and yet we condemn others because of the lack of our understanding of the Word and do not wish to follow the examples set by Christ.

Repetitive evils, negativity, judgement, condemning others, lack of trust and faith, a soul is not “renewed day by day.”

John 17:23  I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me.

The Word became flesh, and the flesh is Jesus. What use is the phrase “what would Jesus do?” when it should be, be like Jesus, what will I do, I will do it. How else would someone see our Lord in you?

Digging deeper;

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (Mark 1:1)

The Word is life, (1John 1:1) and the Word endureth for ever. (1Peter 1:25)

The Word was made flesh, and dwells among us. (John 1:14)

The Word of the Lord is right. (Psa 33:4)

Thy Word is very pure. (Psa 119:140, Pro 30:5)

Thy Word is true from the beginning. (Psa 119:160, John 17:17)

The Word of the Lord shall now be comfortable. (2Sa 14:17)

Good is the Word of the Lord. (Isa 39:8)

The Word is quick, powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword. (Heb 4:12)

The Word is righteousness. (Heb 5:13)

The Word of the Lord is tried. (tried means to refine) (2Sa 22:31, Psa 18:30)

Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. (Psa 119:105)

Is not my Word like a fire? (Jer 23:29)

The Word is nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, in thy heart, that thou may do it. (Deu 30:14)

Thy Word will quicken you. (quicken meaning to revive and live) (Psa 119:50)

Thy Word is settled in heaven. (Psa 119:89)

The Word is sewn in the heart. (Mark 4:15)

The hearer of the Word is a doer. (James 1:23)

Who keepeth the Word is the love of God perfected. (1John 2:5)

The Word of the Lord is not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit. (Zec 4:6)

Not live by bread alone, but by every Word. (Mat 4:4, Luke 4:4)

The seed is the Word. (Luke 8:11) (seed is to sew or scatter)

The helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit is the Word of God. (Eph 6:17)

Summarizing 27 verses;

The Word in the beginning was with God and was God. The God of life where the Word endures forever and then became flesh to live among us. The Word Is; Right, a lamp, a light, pure, true, comfortable, good, quick, powerful, righteousness, and tried.

A soul who hears and keepeth the Word like a fire, sewn in the heart. Where nigh unto thee will quicken you to be settled in heaven. (the present)

The Spirit is the power of the Word. The seed is the Word. We live by not bread alone but by every Word and where the Spirit of the Word is our helmet of Salvation.

MJI (LightWorker)

[facesblind]

𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗢'𝗦  𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘  𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦,  𝗕𝗨𝗧  𝗜𝗧  𝗜𝗦  𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬  𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗟  𝗙𝗢𝗥  𝗛𝗜𝗠  𝗧𝗢  𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘  𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦.  the  grief  and  hatred,  screams  and  tears  —  fate  lets  him  get  it  all  out,  awaiting  the  moment  it  would  be  best  to  speak.

it's  the  price  of  being  a  genius  —  never  being  understood.  that's  on  her,  though.  she  could've  phrased  it  better.  explained  better.  it's  also  on  her  for  pinocchio  to  not  catch  up  with  what  she  says  and  does  —  he  is  hers  creation,  after  all.

❝  you  put  a  lot  of  words  in  my  mouth,  nocchio.  ❞  she  begins  with  her  face  blank  as  always,  a  canvas  empty  of  any  emotions;  not  a  curl  of  her  lips  not  a  frown  of  her  brows;  not  a  glimmer  in  the  lifeless  grey  orbs  she  has  for  eyes.  ❝  by  now,  you  should  be  aware  —  i  had  no  knowledge  about  all  this.  my  story  was  just  that,  a  story.  free  will  is  what  created  this  place,  these  events  —  theirs,  and  yours.  ❞

fate  offers  what  she  can  —  a  shrug,  a  sigh  —  with  little  to  no  compassion  in  the  voice  of  hers.  it's  like  standing  in  front  of  her  own  negative,  her  own  colors  —  behaviors,  thoughts,  words  —  inverted.  she  sees  someone  capable  of  things  she  is  not  capable  at  all,  and  she  has  to  think  if  she  even  cares  for  it.  does  it  hurt,  for  her,  when  she  sees  someone  she  could  be  but  never  was?  and  if  she  has  to  ponder  upon  it,  doesn't  that  mean  she  has  no  feelings  towards  it  anymore?

❝  i  created  a  rough  sketch.  it  grew,  it's  that  simple.  i  had  no  intentions  for  hurting  you  whatsoever.  ❞

genuine.  she  does  sound  like  she  means  it.

❝  you  wish  to  be  humane,  so  there  you  have  it;  to  have  humanity  is  to  be  hurt,  neglected,  hated  and  shunned.  it  is  to  cry,  be  angry  and  mad.  you're  free,  nocchio.  you,  me,  they  all.  it  is  not  my  choosing  for  them  to  inflict  all  this  upon  you.  ❞

she  takes  a  step,  a  careful  and  slow  one.  she  means  no  harm  as  she  opens  her  arms  and  gathers  the  marionette,  closing  him  in  a  gentle  embrace.  oh,  such  irony  —  she's  smaller,  her  body's  weaker,  more  fragile.

❝  would  you  trade  it  all  for  indifference?  emptiness?  would  you  rather  lose  your  love  and  happiness?  your  heart  and  soul?  ❞

she  only  suspected  pinocchio's  cries  by  the  tone  of  his  voice,  but  now  she  feels  his  tears;  wipes  them  with  her  thumb,  caresses  his  cheek  in  a  gesture  so  full  of  affection,  it's  almost  like  it's  not  fate  at  all.

he  clings  to  her  like  his  life  depends  on  it  and  she  strokes  his  hair,  kisses  his  forehead,  holds  him  tight  —  all  his  parts,  for  him  to  not  fall  into  pieces.

❝  the  audience  loves  a  heartbreaking  story,  nocchio.  but  they  also  love  a  happy  ending.  let's  make  sure  yours  is  exactly  that,  shall  we?  ❞

unprompted:  why did you make me hated and shunned from the beginning? why'd you create something even you turned away from in disgust? what did i do to deserve your hatred from the first day i remember? @legionarm  for  pinocchio.

[venusdevotea]

a collection of confessions | vol. III | 2019

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

These words tumble out my palms like hot tears Sliding down a slick solemn face, Like dry sand slipping between the fingers Of old, cracked dehydrated skin Like splashing fish out of water, Dying to breathe for just a bubble

Sincerity is scary, and I hate dealing with the aftermath of your empty silence.

I’ve thought out and planned every scenario, every what if, why not, and so what —

Sometimes I get these scenes or these phrases Stuck in my head like a bad song or Twilight movie And what do I do?

What can I do but return to the pen, then? Listening to the same song over and over Just to stay in the same headspace

Every week a new ideation, some form of Coping mechanism for the daily machinations Of just being plain lonely and quiet,

But my thoughts louder and clear as day Monday, A silent request of “You should kiss me”

Tuesday, Wonderings of “What do we do now?”

Wednesday, Confessions of “You’re everything I’ve wanted and more”

Thursday, Realisations of Life isn’t fair, is it?

Friday nights, Walking home by myself Sometimes I look up at the empty space next to me, looking up at where your head should be beside me, and looking, as if waiting for some sort of apparition, any sign that you may materialise… But yeah, that’s a lie.

Saturday, Judgements of Friends rolling their eyes Telling me I’m believing a lie I’m so “extra” I’m so foolish I’m creepy, I’m wrong, “I should just” “I should just” “I should just”

They scream at me to move on, They shake me, red in the face And still, I do not move. Glossing over the truth because, leaving the fantasy is too devastating.

And there’s a soft gasp, or a sudden sob, a wobbly feeling in the knees when I try to entertain the thought that quiet, “nonono,” of it, Ms. Offil.

I push them gingerly back to you, Take back your “shoulds.”

Sunday nights, Childishly folding my arms across my chest,

i don’t want to. is that so wrong? but is it, then?

is it all a lie i’m telling myself, some form of meager escape to love and be loved,

offered a friendly face and an escape route out of here?

Is that all I want? What is this? Just what am I?

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

I wish the tears I cry could materialise into dollar signs, one by one into my tiny, delicate, waiting palms

I glide along the fine arts library, students hidden away in secret cubicles or open-ended cells of a never ending, vast dungeon.

Books upon books, more than any soul could read to the letter, these books are our jailer, and our bailer, out to free knowledge

If only these books could offer me dollar signs, if I wrote one all my own.

I am screaming I am screaming In the library but no one hears me, my voice does not ring out against the walls of written souls and enraptured students

I am screaming I am screaming But still the cubicles do not shake.

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

In windy winter I walk along the pavement In this conveyor belt of life Square by square, my life comparted, Into neat, perfect little squares,

I am chopped up like sushi with Meager deadlines, And too many owed dollar signs None of it is mine, none of it is mine,

I am screaming to graduate on time Distracted by the sublime I inflate, So determined I can’t think straight ahead, into the near present my wallet funds are dead

I am sorry, I am sorry, mom and dad All the people I constantly disappoint Give me more money so that I may live And all of it will flow through me like an Award winning sive.

Where does my future lie? Was all they told me in childhood just a fat lie? Oh, it’s easier, so much easier, Just to die.

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

The apartment is smelly And food is rotting on the counter Tops and cabinets The trash is piled up past the Brim, as is the kitchen sink And everything smells like Cat piss and isolated sorrow Tear drops of shattering dreams Paint my desk in tiny Transparent ovals

I cannot make food, The kitchen is dirty And the stove is clean I have pasta But it is uncooked I have opportunities But I have no money I have love But no body to share it with I have an application But no loans to follow it up

I have hopes I have dreams I have a future planned

But no future to base it on

They first told me I don’t have Enough credits to graduate on time Should I go away

I have to make it up in the summer Okay, allocate funds from loans Is that possible? Yes, but then it is cut into thirds And not halved for per semester

Is that enough? Yes, but your parents still pay parent plus loans Is that aid? Yes because your family earns too much to get Free money

So we have to pay it back? Yes, plus interest

What if I am interested in living a life away from here never to return?

far far away from this capitalist hellscape.

collection of confessions | vol. I | 2017

a retrospective of love life, three years in time.

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Selfish I’ve never been good at letting go, kissing you goodbye on the phone; I’ve never been good at trusting you to be safe and mine, even though right now isn’t nearly the time.

When it comes to you, I’m more selfish than selfless, unless keeping my mouth shut when my heart is screaming counts

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Criminal If loving you and saying how I feel is a crime, then I guess I’m a criminal But is it criminal to be so scared everyday? I just want you to stay Here, wherever here may be.

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Sea Capturing your heart was like catching a single seal with bare hands in the water slippery and ephemeral stubborn and oblivious

But once in my grasp I’ve been so terrified to let it go. “There’s more fish in the sea” and I’m afraid I’ll never be able catch that same fish once more, So just the one seal will do, thanks.

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Terrified Sometimes I fear I’ll never hear you knocking on my door Ringing my cell, singing adverts on the telly Sending me messages in bed on time

All those little things that make you mine and I’ll be here alone in my American home…

and Peter Pan won’t visit me tonight

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Nighttime Falling asleep with buds in my ears and they hurt in the morning Doesn’t hurt to listen to your voice, though I could listen to you all day, hear what you have to say I’ll never tire of your sleepy “I love yous”

Woken up by you at 1, 2, 3, 4, 5am then I guess carpe diem Fall asleep a little half past 9 And it’s too much to resist; Lying with you is so divine I can’t sleep without your goofy snores on the other line

Living my life 5 hours in the future Falling in love in another time

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Augmented Reality I’ll never be as good as you Sometimes I wish in appearances, that I deserved you

These curves in my flesh, the stretch marks and rolls, cellulite and blemishes, discolouration, I shake with hesitation.

All I know for now is that I can’t let you see me like this. I can imagine your face falling once I come into view, thinking

This isn’t who I am, I’m not who you thought I was. You fell for me once before, but was it for the disembodied voice or the girl behind it?

Would you love her too? Could you love her too?

Is that too much to ask of you?

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

Please I’m a part of you and you a part of me I want to believe our hearts, our souls are connected eternally and when you’re not okay, I’m not okay and I wish I could help repair what’s broken, instead I have to leave you in this hole and watch as you scramble to get out, maybe you don’t even realise what you’ve dug yourself into but I’ll be here on the surface, hand extended to pull you up, up, up, out this horrible, confusing mess of things and I miss you, I need you too, oh please

please — allow me to be there for you.

❤꧁ღ⊱♥ ――――――――――――――――――― ♥⊱ღ꧂❤

[inviouswriting]

Memories

This follows 5.3 lore. So if you are not caught up in it, avoid this story please.

Spoilers.

Aymeric x Kiya. 

Characters - Kivera, Aymeric, Kiya, Mentions of the polyship with Shuri. @maiden-born-in-snow​

Kiya had to have answers, about what her life was. When she explained what she had learned to Aymeric, he only embraced her. His feelings did not change at all, learning her life before. 

The question was, what was her life before she was brought to The Source. She had approached Divinity, with questions the Libra spirit could not answer. 

“I’m sorry, those are questions for Kivera. I can’t talk about them, without her around, or in general because it might break taboo.” Divinity answered enough to explain. Kiya had more questions, but the Libra spirit smiles.

“She’ll be glad to answer you though. I think you earned to know.” Divinity then goes into the house she shares with the rest. To talk to the reaper. She was found cocooned in her wings. Divinity pets her black wing then right to have her rouse up.

“Hm?”

“Kiya, wants to know. Ever since she has learned where she came from. She feels lost.” Kivera sits up at this and knew eventually she would have to explain and maybe give her a glimpse of her former life. Kivera dresses in a flash of her magic and wanders out to greet the miqo. Kivera softens her eyes seeing her.

“I’ll answer everything tonight. I do have a requirement though, to pray to your deity at both statues. I’ll meet you at Thal’s around midnight.” Kivera had to give a condition, before she opened up doors. 

Kiya nods and sets about the trip for the spots in Thanalan. Kivera watches her teleport, and folds her arms under her chest while Divinity hugs her from behind. 

“You’re getting better at not denying others.” Kivera shrugs Divinity off only to be snared by her and lifted up to be carried at her waist with a few flails from her.

“I swear you chose that form so you can do this!” 

“Maybe, I also like how some outfits look. But lifting you and Shuri has become a favorite. I see why Ardbert, and Estinien enjoy it the same. How do you think she’ll take the information?” Divinity sits with Kivera starting to pet her head, fingers weaving into dark hair.

“She’ll take it like anyone who has had their memories taken. She’ll be confused. However, it benefitted this realm greatly. Having memories of your life before can end up causing conflict. What if she had remembered what her calling was. Even with her defecting their cause. It only took a stray thought and this world would have died.” Divinity nods her head as she listens. They’ve witnessed realms that died, together. Worlds, and dimensions. Kivera being their reaper, she’s seen the grief on her face when faced with dying worlds.

“You did a good thing.” Divinity sits with her overlooking The Mist’s shores.

“You think so?”

“Your bits of interferences have helped. I know you guided her hand against that necromancer. I’ve seen you angry before, but to channel that through her? Preventing liches and catastrophes from them. I know you do good. Even if the world scorns you for what you do.” Kivera thinks Divinity’s words over, and sees a glimpse of the woman who she sat with on the burning pyre return her gentleness. The first and only time they had touched in the physical realm was Divinity’s own death.

“I think someone who takes away someone’s suffering as they burned to death isn’t someone to be hated.” Divinity adds on. Kivera shifts her form a bit to the one she keeps hidden under the disguises. 

“You do have a way with words, you’ve been hanging around Ardbert a little much.” Kivera comments, and is met with another smile.

“He’s full of insights. Still doesn’t know in depth of what we are and what we do. We’ve let him glimpse our pasts, but not our reasons.” Divinity hears Kivera sigh and feels her nod against her shoulder.

“Eventually. For now, I need to right one who doesn’t know herself.” Kivera disentangles herself from Divinity and goes about to prepare her end of giving some memories back. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Divinity offers.

“Nah, This is best done by myself. Keep Shuri comfortable.” Kivera goes back into the house to gather things she needs.

Kiya had returned to Ishgard to tell Aymeric she will be home late. She is met with a soft smile and him wishing her to stay safe. Kiya got lost in his eyes when he coaxed her to join him for a little enjoyment in his office. 

When she returned to her home, she found a box left on the bed from Kivera. 

“Wear this at the statue of Thal, I’ll know when you have completed the prayers.” Kiya sets off and goes to Nald’s Respite statue first. She kneels before the statue in prayer and respect. 

One of the few things she and Aymeric don’t cross is their beliefs. He remains devoted to Halone, while she is faithful to hers in Nald’Thal. She had long since remained faithful to him before she met Aymeric. Such being the way Black Mage are. Instilled from Thaumaturges guild’s teaching. 

Kiya stops before she approaches the final statue, and dons the unique attire. She looks herself over in the reflection of water. Her hair worn down in the way Kivera instructed her to wear it. Kivera nods once she sees her exactly how she wants the mage to look.

“Good, now the memories. I apologize for taking those. They were payment for revival. There is a unique balance to keep in the underworld. While you can be spared from a fate, something does need to be taken to cushion it. It’s a bit complicated.” Kivera begins with telling her about the exchange.

“I’ve come to terms with that part.. it’s trying to remember a part of you..” Kiya begins and Kivera nods.

“I understand that. I’ll give you the chance to see and know that former self. I do however want to pose a question. Aren’t you happy with the way things are now?” Kivera asks, and sees Kiya’s eyes light up.

 “I am happy with how things are, yet I want to know.” Kivera smiles and steps back to give her, at least her name. Her voice coming out as a double echo.

“Solaris. Ricorda.” It is a simple phrase, and one that has her remembering. Everything up to the fall of the star of the 14th. How she chose to leave, how she witnessed the last days, she had fallen the creature Therion. From there plucked from the aether by Hydaelyn and given a new life. Her form itself she couldn’t recall except like every other Amourtine. She notices her own appearance resembles the reaper before her, slightly altered. Then every memory from there on was what she knew.

“My form, that was your doing?” Kivera nods.

“Just a smidge of my likeness. But everything else is all your own. Memories, friends, loved ones, children, those you’ve protected, those you’ve lost. The memories you have now, those you fought for. If you had remembered that former life, would you have followed the same path as now?” Kivera questions, and moves to press her forehead to Kiya’s. A simple gesture.

“We’ll never know that answer, for it didn’t happen.” Kiya smiles though in her answer. She knows. Kivera knows. They can’t rewind the time. Not with what they’ve done already.

“Do you have any regrets?” Kivera asks.

“No, none. Just glad to know my name. Solaris. If I have any more children, it might fit for a son maybe.” Kivera places a finger over her own lips as hers are sealed.

“I can’t tell you anything more. You should get back to your husband now.” Kiya eyes her wearily, then shakes her head. Kivera takes her home, and Kiya takes the offered hand.

“Is it true you have such a dislike for people that raise the dead?” Kiya asks, and Kivera glances to her.

“You felt my rage right? At that necromancer? That is your answer. There is no good from people who raise the dead for their own means. They start innocent, but quickly lose themselves to madness. Like your friend Edda, whose scythe you wear so proudly on your back. Or those that have stained Tam-tara deep with their ill magic. You’ve seen their madness. What it does. Such in Dusk Vigil with the frozen in time soldiers who were kept alive through ill magic too.” Kiya nods.

“Underworld beings, such as myself are death bringers. We obey that. Anything that abhors that nature shouldn’t be celebrated. The acolytes, the white mages, those that have the blessing to revive someone who freshly fell before the soul leaves. They’re different, but even they can’t revive what is truly lost to the aether. I’m sure if you take the white robes you would understand more in depth to that difference. But those who use bodies are defilers and need to be ended.” Kiya nods at the end of her words. Kivera stays with Kiya till she is on the steps to her home with Aymeric.

Aymeric stands in the doorway, he waited for his love to be returned to him. He regards the ethereal being with a look of reverence. Kivera flits out like smoke as if she was never there. Kiya turns to Aymeric and is guided under his arm inside, to get much rest and spend the night better with him. It has been a few months after Alyse came into the world, and Edmont took their daughter to give the two a night to themselves.

So Kiya could get answers about herself. 

Kivera returns to her lovers. She makes a face to herself as the spots next to Divinity and Shuri was taken up by Ardbert. Leaving the space between Shuri and Estinien open. She opts for that spot, not without first planting ice cold hands on Estinien’s back. The dragoon jolts from the cold, but only eyes Kivera and pulls her between him and Shuri. Letting her wrap her arms around her and pulling her closer.

“ Non desidero mai prendere nessuna delle vostre anime.” She murmurs a protection spell.