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matsunoluvr · 4 months ago

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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how I think the boys from love and deepspace would give a first kiss :3

warnings: suggestive content (obviously?), writing might be out of character, spoilers in general, i get carried away explaining everything because i'm afraid of being accused of mischaracterisation

[story spoiler] first kiss = first kiss where mc is a hunter/the timeline in game

authors notes: i have favourites and it will show CLEARLY in my writing… sorry (not sorry no1 rafayel stan) and i am a yapper

characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus

link to my master list here!!

more below the cut :3

sorry rafayel... but i feel like he's the most unskilled at kisses because - hear me out - you're his very first kiss. lemurians as a species seem to value bonds and loyalty, and as the literal sea god he wasn't able to nor wanted to just hook up or mess around - he's looking for devotion!!!

(okay, we ignore the kiss in forgotten sea myth story because like come on there was literally no romance mc was drowning)

definitely waits a while before kissing you, rayafel really takes his time to fall into place. after all, he needs to make sure his beloved bride/groom is well and truly his!!!

the type to wait for the ‘right moment’ - but doesn’t force or stage it ykwim? like the time comes naturally - e.g. watching the sunset, or you’re leaning close to him whilst he’s painting

he’s a romantic 100% like there’s a reason his 'floral promise' card was (imo) way fluffier compared to the others - like xavier's was tender-ish but rafayel was fucking melting

he's a sweet talker I just know it.

that charm he uses on his clients? he doesn't want to nor will he manipulate you with it but you know he's going to ramp up the charm to tease you a little

definitely knows his effect on you and uses it to his full advantage (cough cough fiery undercurrents secret times) like whispering in your ear, making excuses to touch you or get close to you

(i think he’d be more 'traditional' because of lemurian customs - the whole bonding + [forgotten sea spoilers] the sea god ceremony where the mc must devote themselves to rafayel displaying a strong level of devotion)

SUCH A GENTLE KISSER OMG like compared to his almost bratty and childish personality he’s a gentleman when it comes to kisses (also because he's kind of unsure what to do...)

the type to tuck strand of your hair behind your ear, fiddle with it a little maybe twirl it around his finger before trailing a finger along your jawline... i can see him like massaging your ear too? idk how to describe it he's a handsy man

first kiss was definitely more sweet than passionate ugawhriulgs he's such a cutie

right after the first kiss i think he’d be pretty affectionate, rather than bratty/tsundere since for him to kiss someone i believe he’d really need to love them (and therefore is more open to being vulnerable)

affectionate as in saying something cheesy probably, commenting on how you tasted or another one of his poetic, artistic quotes (dw raf we love it)

wouldn't be satisfied with just one after that, i can see him going in for a more passionate second and even a third (i mean look at his 'floral promise' memory OR 'fiery undercurrents') in the same few minutes

these follow up kisses would probably be longer and way less chaste, hands moving from tilting your chin up to your waist ahahahahahuwfa

you'd have to show him the appeal of tongue if that's your thing because he's seen it before but never really saw what was nice about it

"But... you're just drinking each other's saliva?" "Rafayel that's hot-"

definitely relived the moment in his head hundreds of times after that night - and you bet your ass he painted a piece inspired from your first kiss with him

any kisses after that i feel like they would follow this default pattern;

if he initiated the kiss i think he’d be more cocky and teasing, especially if he surprised you with one and he sees your flustered face

“Didn’t expect that huh, cutie?”

if you surprised him, however, get ready for typical rafayel childish behaviour, blushing and averting his eyes, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and a pout

“Hey- what was that for!!” Σ（・□・；）

either way rafayel is the worlds silliest man and would cave into literally anything with just a few kisses from you

ALSO KISS HIS COLLAR BONES AND YOU'VE GOT A WHOLE NEW SCENARIO TO UNFOLD

oh i just have a feeling this man is devouring you because puh-LEASEE?? sir we aren't forgetting your 'tender night' card i know that night was anything but tender

xavier is the definition of pent-up desire because this man has been waiting a LONG time and he's not going to be able to hold back very well

(taking heavy inspiration from his '21 days' memory because with his reaction it kind of feels like his first kiss with mc... but tbh i don't know much about xavi)

he's definitely not shy when it comes down to it, yeah he gets flustered if he thinks about it because of course imagining kissing the person he's pined over for centuries is going to fluster the shit out of him but he doesn't shy away form the idea or avoid the topic in conversation

i feel like he'd bring it up casually - like in the 'partner go go' event (aka heartbreaker-chasing-rhythm-game event) he was so insistent on the 'kissing page'

mc was like "apparently you can solve arguments with a kiss" and this mf straight up said "we can argue then" this man is STARVED

i feel like you'd need to initiate the kiss or give him very clear signs you'd be okay with a kiss for it to happen, i don't know why i just feel like he's that type of person

the first kiss is deep despite him trying his best to hold back - you can just feel his desire and longing oozing out of him and he's definitely on fucking cloud nine

xavier's holding your face and stroking his thumb along your cheek and god damn he's good at kissing where the fuck did he learn this from?

the type to break the kiss and then fucking bulldoze into the next one and my god his restraints have broken and he's actually kissing you as if it's the last thing he's able to do on earth

100% a tongue user he's biting at your bottom lip before slipping it in the sly minx

after the kiss he's more flustered than he expected to be - kissing the love of his life (literally) sends him into a flurry of emotions he's never really experienced before

given how possessive xavier is i wouldn't be surprised if halfway through making out he managed to leave a hickey or two in very. visible. places.

he isn't even pretending to feel guilty in the slightest, a smug grin as he shrugs out a half-assed apology.

"Sorry, I guess you'll have to try hide it. Or don't, that would be easier."

if you leave any marks on him he's not leaving you along that night. forget sleeping you two are recreating 'tender night' ALL night.

but seriously, if you leave hickeys over his neck (his canonical sensitive area and where he feels vulnerable) he's going to go crazy because what do you mean you want everyone to know he's yours??? what do you mean you want him as much as he wants you??

tldr; xavier is unusually talented with his mouth and is desperate to prove it to you.

i accidentally wrote way more for xavier than i expected i even cut out some bits holy crap maybe i’m more into xavi than i thought

oh no... zayne you beautiful man i am so sorry... (here comes the one character i have no idea how to characterise + no clue about his lore zayne fans pls bear with me)

okay - zayne looks like a gentleman and i'm sure he very much is even in intimate moments, but i cannot get rid of the idea that his first kiss w you was lowk spicyyyyy

like OH MY GOD I JUST WATCHED SNOWY SERENITY RN I FUCKIGN KNEW IT

that man was pouncing on you in a hospital bed, dishevelled, and kissing you deep my god like the type of kiss that literally as you forgetting where you are

i feel like zayne would be the one to initiate the kiss, again no idea why maybe i'm falling into the dominant zayne agenda

you're probably surprised when he kisses you because he's usually so composed, the 'cold unfeeling' dr zayne - then suddenly he's panting and pushing himself on top of you (consensually of course), pinning you down and going to town.

when he kisses you i don't think he's much of a lip biter, but if you bite his lips or lick at him or anything he's not opposed, as long as your lips are on his and vice versa

after the first kiss he's going straight into another one, his patience has thinned to the point of snapping and now he just needs you.

his hands what does he do with his hands? i'm thinking the typical otome face hold, gentle grasp juxtaposing his fervent kisses LOL

now, why does he kiss you?? how does this all build up? unfortunately all i can think of to match this scenario is something angsty or something along the lines of zayne has fucking had it and all he wants is you

"I need you... please."

this is the type of kiss where he wants to drown in you, breathe you in and just smother his being into yours to forget and erase whatever else is happening/happened

if he's kissing you and pinning you down and you bring up your hand to interlock fingers with him - your warm hands against his cool hands? wow his kissing is all of a sudden even more passionate.

after the little make out session he's going to go all mushy on you, physical affection of an embrace something uncharacteristic of him to match his dishevelled state

in kisses after the first i like the idea that he checks your pulse mid make-out and just silently smirks/chuckles when he notices it's faster and more erratic than usual

"Why are you nervous, this isn't our first time."

he also has this sneaky habit of whispering incredibly close to your ear, the reason why i choose to point this out it because i feel like sometimes he uses his evol to his advantage to like, breathe out cool air on your neck/ear and likes to watch you shiver

the ultimate dominant figure if you try to kiss him first and take control he somehow manages to overcome you and take the lead without using his strength, just good ol' sweet talking and technique

congratulations, you managed to snatch a kiss from the renown leader sylus!!!

i can see why people would think he's promiscuous or a fuck-boy because honestly i see it, but imo just because he is more flirtatious, assertive and... responsive (try tapping his... crotch... in the café LOL) does NOT = play boy

to me it just shows that - unlike the other LIs - sylus is just more forward with his approach, he has that devil-may-care like feel to him ykwim?

"Do I like you? What type of question is that, isn't it obvious? Or do I need to show you?" is much different to "Hey baby girl lemme rock your world tnite xx"

but just because he's got a 'fuck-all' attitude doesn't mean he fucks around with random people, he's 1. got standards and 2. living in the n109 zone?? do you THINK he can afford to let random people close just to fuck???

that being said i don't think he's a kiss virgin, just very selective and honest man when it comes to love and physical intimacy

now, when i say he isn't a fuckboy, that doesn't mean i don't believe in cocky-smugass-know-it-all sylus - he kisses well. and with PASSION. and probably the worst part is that he knows it.

first kiss with sylus? i can't imagine him making a large fuss about it like rafayel, nor it having to be some "i'm-at-deaths-door-and-need-to-kiss-you-atleast-once" situation like zayne, but no matter where or when you two share a first kiss he is making sure you remember

that being said, there was definitely a LOT of romantic and sexual tension between you and sylus for at least weeks before the kiss, i mean the air was thick with suggestive glances and denial

i think you two'd have to already be in close proximity which is very easy to achieve with sylus (touchiest man award goes to him) for the first kiss to initiate

he's grabbing your waist, or your face, makings sure your eyes are on. him. as you two kiss. watching with delight no matter what reactions you have, he admires you through surprised and flustered to confident and defiant

rather than a tender first kiss it’s probably a full blown make out session, just desire and lust flooding out of the both of you after having built up for over a month.

assertive does not mean he's going to force a kiss on you to clear this up, more that he likes to take the initiative and take control as you two kiss <3

yeah he's into biting (wow what a big shock) - likes biting your ear, or neck, or bottom lip, one time he tried nipping at your tongue too.

you can bite him back, he likes it.

"Hah, looks like someone is baring their claws tonight..." he’s really into that whole cat thing huh.

what does mr sylus do with his hands? waist, hips, ass, around your neck, pulling your face in by squeezing your cheeks, fingers threading through the hair on the back of your head, you name it he does it. again, i think sylus is a touchy man.

he doesn't mind if you try to take control, just dont expect to be successful. different to zayne - as in he will overcome your control with his evol and strength…

inappropriate use of his evol has occurred (he ‘tied’ you up and made out with you (CONSENSUALLY))

after his affinity 15 (i think) memory i can just tell he’s freaky with it bruhhh so yeah handcuffs are probably something he indulges in

if you’re persistent or physically overcome sylus you might get rewarded with a resigned, more submissive sylus

the idea or sight of someone man handling/overcoming his strength really sets him off.. i mean have you seen “no defence zone”?? but you’re really going to need to work to get him to this stage, and he’s going to have to love you

“No one’s ever seen me like this, lying on my back and begging for you.”

secretly finds out through you that he enjoys being dominated (BRAT SYLUS FOR 2024) so climb on top of him and kiss him until he’s blushing and panting hahahahahaha

tldr: sylus isn’t a fuck-boy but he sure kisses like one

AN; as an ao3 writer may say, no beta we die like caleb i wrote half of this when i was half asleep LMAOO anyways i hope this was okay please dont attack me BYE

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8housevenus · 4 months ago

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8th house synastry!

hii, in this blog i'm going to talk about what your partner's planets mean in your 8th house. i'm going to focus this one on a more relationship-wise dynamic so there will be talks of sexual chemistry, kinks, and things of that nature. and of course, a lot more goes into these types of things apart from what i go over!! hope u enjoy <3

partner's sun in your 8th house - when your partner's sun is in your 8th house, you can find the sun person to be extremely off-putting and intense due to the fact that they will be very eager to figure you out. you appear mysterious to the sun person, and they will not make it unknown that they think they are the one to "repair you." there can be stubbornness in this relationship as your sun person will try to unveil your secrets and experiences you don't want to talk about. as the house person you can resent this and find it to be invasive. however, you have a deep appreciate towards the sun person due to their caring nature and abilities to handle your wounds. sex-life with this person can also be super intense, both of your vulnerabilities allow sex to be much deeper and memorable. this placement can be good for a long-term relationship as long as the house person can feel a sense of privacy. usually there is an instant sexual attraction between the two of you, especially by your sun person. it's magnetic and hard to resist.

partner's moon in your 8th house - house person will find plenty of comfort with the moon person. moon person will not be prone to criticizing your or weaponizing your feelings, they will make significant efforts to understand you and work around any dark areas. you both have very health boundaries surrounding each other's emotions, there's plenty of privacy and security between the two. moon person fulfils your emotional needs more than anybody else does. this can be very prevalent in the bedroom too; comfort is key for the both of you sexually. moon person will usually do more foreplay and deep-talk, they also will be more submissive and favorable to what the house person wants to do. usually, this moon person will be able to read you like an open book. moon person will flutter the house person with chest kisses and vice versa.

partner's mercury in your 8th house - mercury person loves to get behind the surface level discussions with the house person. they like to know you beyond the simple things. house person gives an outlet to the mercury person to express their feelings, stories, traumas, that they usually feel guilty or ashamed to share with anyone else. mercury person admires your strong tolerance towards them. they can be highly persuasive and often times appear manipulating. depending on how it is aspected. usually in the bedroom between the two, mercury person loves dirty talk, kissing, oral, and cuddling up. sex can sometimes be finished more quickly than you're used to, and be careful that the person you are dealing with isn't just using you or sees it as a "friends with benefits" situation. these people are very open to new sexual experiences and can be jumpy.

partner's venus in your 8th house - this one is so good i love love love it. venus person will find themselves in a position where they want to support your lifestyle. some of them might even go out of their way to fund you and spoil you. to them the house person is like their sugar baby. aside from money, this person finds so much beauty in the things you are usually ashamed about. they are able to glamorize the darkness that you might exude to them. as the house person, you grow to have intense ties as the venus person will have immense loyalty towards you and have a "life or death" attitude with you. sometimes this relationship feels surreal because of how hard it clicks. sex-wise, venus person will be able to create a new experience for you everytime. almost feels soul-merging. they will love to neck grab, hold you by your waist, or might even involve toys/costumes, super fantasy-like things. this person will transform your views on sex drastically. venus person can feel very possessive over you and sometimes even forget the bad things you do during the relationship simply because their love feels overpowering.

partner's mars in your 8th house - strong adrenaline rush from the mars person to the house person. sometimes it feels like you have such strong chemistry before you know each other that well. mars is so drawn to the house person that they might do impulsive things just for your attention. this person can match your darkness very well and they have no problem with doing something about settling your issues for you. they don't shy away when you open up, and often times will be protective over you in situations of life or death. in terms of sex, it will feel super intense and the mars person makes sure to go all out for you. they can be unpredictable, and you might often time underestimate what they can do, but they aren't heavy into wasting time. they love hair pulling, face grabs, or penetrations. you both find sex to be a good outlet for pent up feelings, and it definitely is a strong way to show the care between the two.

partner's jupiter in your 8th house - jupiter person will try to point out a lot of the positives through things that have hurted you in the past. they aren't heavy into dwelling on past experiences too much and have more of an optimistic view on life. these people will teach you how to deal with things progressing forward with them, like religiously or spiritually they will open your eyes. these people can also bring an immense influx of money to you and use it to go on vacations and plenty of trips to discover new things and places. you often find that going out with this person is almost healing for you. their energy feels like a breath of fresh air and distracts you from your neglective past. sexually, this person will love butt/thigh grabbing, person might also have bigger behinds or shlongs. feels rejuvenating while you are together. they make you glow in a certain way that other do not. house person finds jupiter person to be very wise and knowledgeable across the board.

partner's saturn in your 8th house - saturn can be tricky but not uncomfortable here. you might feel like this person helps you get your shit together sometimes and see things for the way they are. they will help you understand that building walls is important. between the two of you, this can be a long-lasting relationship and saturn person will be deeply committed. sometimes you might feel that saturn doesn't always understand your emotional state, oftentimes you feel that you cannot always express this to them. they can seem cold, but they are also very experienced in similar things you have dealt with. they offer good perspective and can offer you a stable life in terms of money. sexually, this person might not be too experimental, and worry a lot about if it lives up to your standards. they're more quiet and house person often helps them overcome saturn's shyness to sex. saturn however, will like touching all over your skin, infatuated by your smile, and loves gripping to your ribs. can create a heavily devoted partner.

partner's uranus in your 8th house - uranus person will love to challenege you and make you rewire many stigmas, norms, and traditional values. they love to also connect with your deep-rooted desires, as both of you might have many things in common. this dynamic can be unpredictable sometimes, house person will always see dramatic highs and lows from the uranus person. as the house person, you might like the uranus person covering topics which you find abnormal, however very interesting. sexually, uranus person will have a lot of irregular kinks and desires. usually these people will have prominent veins, have a foot fetish, or might want to indulge in a 3-party act, do it in public, etc. with them they want to break many rules with sex. sometimes this can trigger the house person with their boundaries they have, privacy is also important for the house person, and uranus challenges that.

partner's neptune in your 8th house - neptune person understands the sensitive nature of your volatile state. in a house that gets very dark, neptune matches it but tints it a little differently. you notice that the neptune person almost always has "the answers," but you have to get it out of them almost. as much as a mystery you are, they are also going to be mysterious. they will never overstep and say too much unless you ask from them to. but you notice they bring an old soul energy to you, and they will bring life changing ideas to the table. they will keep you in tune. they love you through your scars as to them it appears as strength. both of you might sense you are equally damaged, but can heal and prosper together. sexually, neptune person can give you a surreal experience. and usually the neptune person knows exactly what to do to please you, as they have a way of reading you through. they will be gentle with you in bed and only step it up if that is what the house person wants. neptune person might have some type of feet kink, or provide a gentle aftercare. interesngly enough, they will always have some fixation on some part of your body. it can seem weird but you find it very cute that they are drawn to it.

thank u for making it this far, i really hope you enjoyed reading some of these. if you feel like this was accurate or inaccurate let me know i would love to hear ur standpoint and do let me know of any other ones you would like me to do. <3

#astrology observations #astro notess #astrology #astro tumblr #synastry #astrology synastry

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sky-scribbles · 7 months ago

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OK, but I love that Essek might be appearing in the Mighty Nein series before he meets the Nein! It's not just me wanting More Essek (though I do) or wanting to see more of what was going on with his dealings with the Assembly (which I also do). I think this could be super fucking interesting from a narrative construction standpoint.

Because I cannot see how you can include Essek from early in the series and not make it clear to the audience that he's the Dynasty traitor loooong before the Nein find out. Essek having stolen the beacons will not be a surprise. It looks to me like the cast are swapping out surprise for a fuckton of suspense. (Suspense vs surprise was explained to me when I was studying narrative structure as 'surprise is when a bomb goes off that the audience didn't know was there. Suspense is when they see the bomb being placed and have to sit there begging the characters to realise it's there.' In this analogy, Essek is the bomb.)

When we watched C2, the question was is Essek the traitor? In the M9 show, the question for new watchers will be when will the Nein realise that Essek is the traitor? When Essek meets the Nein, the countdown starts ticking; people will know that he is a danger. He is manipulating them. He is going to hurt them. Will the Nein realise before it's too late? But then Essek starts really befriending them, showing more of his loneliness and vulnerability, and... I think the mood will shift. Oh, shit, he really cares about them, doesn't he? What will the Nein do if they find out? Do I even want them to find out? What if they reject him and it makes him worse? He can't keep this up much longer, this is unbearable, they're going to find out - OH FUCK THEY'RE FINDING OUT -

It's such a fascinating choice and I think it goes to show that adaptation is an art form in itself! The actual events in the world will be the same, or at least very similar, but a new format means you can show those events in a totally new way and create a completely different tone! Narrative structure is the fucking coolest! I'm so excited for this show!

#critical role #cr2 spoilers #mighty nein show #essek thelyss #sorry the narratology nerd in me is jumping out #my cr meta #(him being introduced early is by no means certain but it might be the case! so forgive me I must gush)

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baphometsss · 17 days ago

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I don't wanna sit here and act like I'm a professional or anything, because I'm not, but as someone who has had to do a lot of work to overcome trauma and reconfigure my brain more or less from the ground up, there's a lot I have to say about Solas's mental state

We know that Solas was essentially used and abused by Mythal for millennia. Even if he wasn't under a geas, he was twisted from his purpose by being made to fight, and then created the Wolf's Fang which was used to make the Titans tranquil and started the Blights. He made those choices himself, but it's important to understand that no choice is ever made in a vacuum. She took advantage of his vulnerability when he was given a body after however long as a spirit semi-existing peacefully in the Fade, and moulded him into a weapon.

He is broken, because Mythal broke him. I'm not incapable of seeing why she did what she did because like I said, no one makes choices in a vacuum and I could write about her for a long time too (in a similar way to how I have had to do myself in my own life in understanding why others abused me). He was so traumatised by everything that happened and he was trauma bonded to Mythal pretty much from the minute he gained a body. Trauma bonds are not about love. He definitely interpreted it that way, as most people do, but that's the weapon abusers use to keep the victim under their control. Abuse abuse abuse show a scrap of love and then abuse some more. If I just take it, I'll get the love/attention I need. I will earn it, because love is suffering, and I have to suffer to earn getting my basic needs met from my family/friends. Mythal, as his creator, was the one who he would've attached to in a similar way to spirit Cole/human Cole.

Trauma bonds are pathological. Mythal made him believe that if he did as she asked, and kept supporting her, then eventually he would gain her favour and they would be able to free all the elves, and he'd be able to live according to his true nature, which is one where he doesn't have to fight. (Remember his personal quest in DAI? He actually kills the rebel mages for corrupting his friend--another Wisdom spirit--into Pride.) In reality, she was just using him. She always kept the bone just out of reach for her lapdog. The line from Rook where they say (paraphrasing here) 'you know, I was actually excited about getting your approval... That's how you do it, isn't it? Keeping giving little scraps of approval to keep someone loyal, and then you turn around and betray them' is so telling too.

Where--or from whom--do you think he learned to do this?

It literally reeks of a pathological trauma bond and honestly, with how isolated, 'grim and fatalistic' Solas is, it is not a surprise that he's so broken.

Solas, essentially, is little more than a lap-dog to Mythal. He followed her like a lost puppy, because especially in his early days, that's kind of what he was. You have to remember that most of the insight we get about Mythal is from Solas's perspective, and he is not a reliable person when it comes to her after so long being repeatedly terrorised and twisted and manipulated. There are several instances where he describes being betrayed by her, and mentions some of the things she did, but he never quite holds her fully accountable and ends up directing his rage elsewhere. (The parallel between Mythal/Solas and the rebel mages/Wisdom is important here.)

This awesome post by @mythalism only reinforces this. He is so messed up in that scene, he is broken, he is holding the Wolf's Fang up, trying to give it to her because it symbolises the burden he has carried for thousands of years trying to avenge her death. He never wanted the Fang, like he never wanted a body. Mythal just stands over him, fully aware of what she did to him, and only getting him to stop because Rook petitioned her successfully, and the reunion with the more benevolent Mythal within Morrigan tempered her anger. She was a goddess, with the unequal power dynamic, right to the end.

As a side note, on the potential romance element between Mythal and Solas, I read an excellent breakdown of it on Reddit a while ago about how out of character it would've been for Solas to keep something like that from a romanced Lavellan, especially in Trespasser when he comes clean about his plan/past. I can't find it now because it was pre-Veilguard release, but it made a lot of sense to me. Solas and Lavellan never have a love scene in DAI because Solas didn't want to 'lay with them under false pretences'. Lying about who you are when sleeping with someone is nonconsensual. You can't consent to sleeping with someone if you don't know their true identity, and someone who knowingly lies about who they are to get into your pants is a sexual predator. For someone who led a slave rebellion (no doubt many of them being sex slaves), and a former spirit of Wisdom, Solas would've been well aware of this. In the unsent letter from Solas to Lavellan he says he came so close to breaking and desperately wanted to stay with them as Solas, with the implication being that that is where he planned to sleep with them once he'd come clean. But because he stops, because he's still unable to forgive himself or release himself from his trauma bond with Mythal, he breaks away, and they never have sex.

Bottom line: Solas would've been honest about it. Especially that. As the Inquisitor says, he can't lie about his heart.

And it's why the Solas/Lavellan romance is so powerful because quote, 'you change everything'. Solas thought he knew what love was, that love was loyalty, devotion, worship, etc. It's not just his plans or worldview that Lavellan changes. Lavellan sees him for who he is, without the mantle of Dread Wolf, and because of that he's able to express his true nature to her, even if he's not being totally honest in Inquisition. Lavellan got much closer to the real him than most, as he says, and changed his understanding of love completely. Unfortunately, he has unfinished business, an unresolved trauma bond, and his crushing sense of duty to the past is what keeps him from taking that final step towards letting go of it entirely. Trick also says Solas doesn't think he deserves love, which tbh is kind of a hallmark trait of people who have survived abuse.

And honestly? Call me a simp but I think he really was trying to get the Inquisitor to stop him. He saw himself being unable to let go because he was so broken and burdened by his guilt, and knew he couldn't save himself--was too proud to admit that he couldn't, because how pathetic does it make him look? And how could he stop now without rendering all the damage he'd wrought pointless? Yet here was someone who had changed him right down to his core, who understood him in a way few people ever had, whom he trusted, whom he loved in a way he hadn't loved anyone else before. It took him 'centuries' to build up rapport with the members of his rebellion. The man doesn't not know how to form attachments without trauma, and suddenly he forms a strong one with someone who loves him completely and without condition. It's a jarring change.

Lavellan says that maybe they're being prideful themselves, refusing to see their own folly. But I think in admitting that they might be wrong, that it might be wishful thinking borne from misguided love to a truly terrible person, they've rendered the point moot. It shows self-awareness, which isn't folly.

If anyone can make Solas understand true love, it's Lavellan. Lavellan loved him when he was being his true self. Lavellan loved him after his betrayal was revealed. Lavellan loved him when his guilty conscience and terrible actions almost destroyed the world. Lavellan loved him because they knew the real him, and knew that his heart and spirit were broken, and knew that their love would endure, that their love would heal him.

And that's exactly where they end up. Healing the past, soothing the Blight, and loving one another completely.

#i'll shut up about solas one day but that day is not today #solas #lavellan #solavellan #mythal #dragon age spoilers #datv #datv spoilers #dragon age

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly. “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did. You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something. And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it. The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.

“Poor girl,” he breathed. “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course. He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle. “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be. And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that. “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was. You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should. “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say. He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it. You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you. Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted. His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s. You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then. It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way. Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type. But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder. You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly. “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that? It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good. Not enough. You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted. His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little. “I can,” he admitted. “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife. You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut. You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you. This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening. But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly. You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him. It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question. Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing. “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive. “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze. “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair. He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you. Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you. He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin. “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was. It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things. “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him. As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled. “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply. It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap. Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin. “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was. “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go. “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this. “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you? You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did. You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response. “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was. “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart? Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this. He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now. “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long. We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly. “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans. “Good fucking girl,” he snarled. “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster. “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck. “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart. Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you. It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl. “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop. You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you. With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself. “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #dilf!cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf

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realisticjupiter · 8 months ago

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haihaii!! your profile has been like.... THERAPY to me bc the aib fixation is back AND ITS STRONG ESPECIALLY TOWARDS CHISHIYA ��💔💔 i love the way u write as well !!

so with this could i request a touch starved chishiya... like a chishiya that needs readers attention so bad but is too embarrassed to downright tell them "I WANT CUDDLES" or smth... still he does everything in his power to get readers attention atp the only thing left is to just BEG

also could i be 🎶 anon ? i picture myself being very active here from now on... have a nice day!!

Summary: Chishiya can't sleep without you.

Genre: Fluffy

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: None! :)

Word count: 784

a/n: Aghhhh i hope this is okay!!!!! That is actually so sweet of you, I'm so glad you've liked my account!!!<3 And ofc you can claim an emoji, hello 🎶!!

Chishiya tried everything to get you into bed with him. He tried seducing you, gaslighting you, and of course his manipulation tactics didn't work either.

All you were focused on was trying to fix the phone from last night's game. It was still on, so you thought it would be easier to get into before it powered off.

Every time he'd call your name, you'd brush him off. Mostly because he always used a certain tone of voice you've become far too familiar with when he tries to get what he wants.

All he wanted to do was kneel at your feet to tell you exactly what he wanted. To tell you he just wanted you to hold him, to tell you all he needed was your attention.

But he couldn't. He never has been able to ask for help, or ask for anything without feeling vulnerable for that matter. He was closed off, that's what people knew about him; that he didn't show those types of emotions in fear of being belittled.

Chishiya could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his eyes burning from keeping them open, but he knew no matter how hard he would toss and turn; he wouldn't be able to sleep without you.

It was pathetic, he'd admit that. It was a loop he found himself getting stuck into, and found there was no way out of it. He hid it pretty well, though. Through late nights where you'd fall asleep alone and wake up to him beside you. You truly had no idea he struggled so much.

He was so tired. He'd do anything if you'd just stop and sleep already.

And he found his last option, the one thing he dreaded the most.

"Y/n?" Chishiya whispered, his voice husky as he climbed out of bed and walked towards you with slow steps.

"What?" You hummed in response, never peeling your eyes away from the task at hand.

"Please," He spoke underneath his breath in an almost incoherent whisper as he stopped to stand beside the chair you sat in.

"I don't know what you want, Chishiya. No one is keeping you awake." You sighed, watching from the corner of your eye as he stood by your side, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"You're keeping me awake." He murmured, watching your hands as they played around with the device's motherboard.

"How?" You said in defeat, finally turning your attention to him. You looked up at him with your hands thrown in your lap, clearly waiting for his response.

He let out a huff as he looked around the room; avoiding eye contact. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were soft and glassed over.

His next sentence was incoherent.

"What?"

[inaudible]

"Chishiya. Speak up, please." Your words were soft as you stood up from your seat, placing your hands on his upper arms.

"I can't sleep without you." He finally spoke, his words finally registering in your mind.

When he realized you had finally heard him, he felt like he could say anything. And with his new found confidence he continued to speak.

"Why is it so hard to ask you to touch me?" He breathed, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

You smiled at his soft demeanour. You knew how hard it must've been for him to admit something so close to himself, especially since it was about you. You've found a new side of Chishiya you haven't seen before.

You brought a hand to comb through his hair as the other scratched up and down his bare back, "I'm sorry, Chishiya. I should've just read your mind." You whispered against his shoulder as you held him close to your body.

Your words were an obvious tease, trying to humor the situation at hand. Which did make Chishiya snicker.

"You should have. You've always been able to." He muttered, wrapping his arms lazily around you.

You smiled warmly as he spoke, pulling away to drag his hand towards the bed. You climbed in with him closely behind you. He waited for you to get comfortable, before he joined you under the covers to tangle his limbs with yours.

"I'm proud of you, Chishiya." Your sultry breath hit his forehead as you mumbled against his skin.

He stared down at the way your bodies fit together, processing your words with a smile he knew you couldn't see.

"Now go to sleep, 'm here." You spoke once more into his skin, kissing his forehead and massaging your fingers into his scalp.

His cold fingers danced around your bare skin, trying to bring himself impossibly closer to you before his body fell limp into a night's sleep.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

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ckret2 · 2 months ago

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Chapter 68 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.

####

Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"

"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."

"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.

They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."

Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."

Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."

Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"

Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"

Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."

Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"

Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"

"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."

"What?"

"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."

"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.

"Can you uncurse it, though?"

"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.

Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"

Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"

"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."

"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."

"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.

Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."

That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.

But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.

Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"

"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."

To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.

It was something a person would do.

Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.

####

Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.

Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it.

He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.

"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.

To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.

"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.

After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.

"Thank you."

It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?

Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.

He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.

As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.

"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.

When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.

"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."

As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"

The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"

Ford stopped the tape. Huh.

Huh.

####

As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"

Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"

"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."

Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"

"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"

"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."

"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.

Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.

Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.

####

Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"

"Yep. Just going to bed?"

Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."

"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"

"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."

"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.

And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.

Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.

"Bill."

"Hm?"

He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."

Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"

Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"

Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."

Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)

But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.

"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."

Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"

"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not.

Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"

"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."

"Is this your emergency stash?"

"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.

"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."

"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.

Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."

"That much?"

"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."

All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.

As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"

Ford glanced back. "Yes?"

"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."

He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."

"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.

####

Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"

She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"

She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"

"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."

"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.

Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"

"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.

"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.

"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."

Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."

"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"

"Nobody. Everyone hates him."

She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"

"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.

"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"

Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"

"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."

####

"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"

"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."

"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."

Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"

"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!"

"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"

"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."

"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"

Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.

####

"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"

"Okay, but why you?"

She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."

"They really don't."

"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."

"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"

"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."

What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."

She was quiet a moment. "I know."

"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.

####

After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.

The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.

The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."

He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.

All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.

Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."

The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"

"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"

The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"

"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"

While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"

"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"

"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"

"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"

"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"

A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.

"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"

The book immediately fell still.

Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.

He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."

"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.

"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"

"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."

"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."

As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.

He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.

But how did it know?

Could it have warned him about Bill?

Ford would never find out now.

The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."

The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—

That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.

After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.

####

In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.

Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.

On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.

The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.

And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.

Journal 2's pages rustled.

####

(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎

Thaaat's right. 😎😎

An unrelated flashback chapter!!!

Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)

#mabel pines #dipper pines #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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keikikait · 25 days ago

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 5.4k

summary: rafe reminds you of the reason why he's doing all of this in the first place

warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, drug use, smut (DUBCON/NONCON. READER IS DRUGGED WHILE HE TOUCHES HER, nipple play, masturbation (rafe jerks off while the reader is asleep PLEASE DONT LOOK AT ME)), rafe breaks into reader's house, flashback rafe is basically season 2 rafe, very slight john b x reader, drinking, rafe is obsessed, please read at your own discretion!, innocent(ish)!reader, again, stalker!rafe, manipulation, reader is still high on coke

a note: please don't look at me rn.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You look so beautiful, all pliant in his lap.

Rafe spends a long time just holding you, pushing your hair out of your eyes and wiping away the drool that periodically escapes your lips, all numb and tingling from the coke. His cock throbs at the sight of you, all limp and soft with blown out pupils, sitting vulnerable in his lap. You were in his arms, and you were his. His gaze travelled over you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way you were shivering. “You like that, angel?” his lips grazed your neck, nibbling softly. “I know you feel all warm and fuzzy, baby. That’s a sign of a good high.”

Your head falls against his shoulder, a soft whine escaping your lips. Rafe hums, his chest rumbling softly against your cheek. He had known that the coke would hit you hard, had been expecting it. But he was surprised by how responsive you were, how receptive you were to his touch. He rubs your hips, hands caressing you. “Shhh, angel, stay calm. Do you feel warm?”

You nod, starting to squirm in his lap. You were very warm, almost burning up, but you felt too lethargic to move. He could tell you were overheating, that the coke was making your blood run hot and your skin feel cold. He glances down to where he could see under the V-neck of the T-shirt he’d given you, and he chuckles softly, seeing your nipples poking up through the thin fabric. “You’re warm, angel. Want me to take off your shirt for you? You’ll cool down without it on.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before Rafe pulls your shirt off anyway, tossing it aside. “Fuck, so pretty,” he murmurs, reaching up to pinch your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He spent the better part of a year and a half wondering, dreaming about what they would look like, zooming in on photos of you in bikinis just hoping he would catch a glimpse. They were perfect, even more perfect than he imagined. He pinches them hard. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.”

The pinch sends you reeling, pulling back slightly. “Ow!” You whine as you squirm, trying to get away from his eager fingers. “No…stop… God, please!”

Rafe chuckles, putting one hand on your lower back and pulling you forward. “Awh, angel,” he pinches your nipple again. “God can’t help you. He left you here with me.” He tuts when you whine again, pressing you against him. “Oh, come on baby, don't be shy”, he coos, giving them another sharp squeeze. “These tits are mine now, aren't they? You're my little doll, my angel.” he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “And I'm going to have so much fun breaking you in.”

You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt, right up against your clit. You shake your head, trying to move away, but your body is so heavy and warm. You manage to find your voice, opening your eyes to look at him, although your vision is blurry. “Why are you…doing this to me?”

“Because you're mine,” Rafe says, a small laugh escaping him as he grinds his thick cock against your sensitive clit. “I've wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you. You’re right here, in my lap, all mine.” He moves his hand off of your nipple and cups your face, bringing your face towards his to kiss you. You struggle to kiss back, your lips and mouth still tingling from the cocaine on your gums.

You pull away. “Stop! Please! I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Awh, baby,” He shifts you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest, his face right next to yours. He runs his hands over your shoulder blades. “Do you not remember it, angel?”

“Remember what?” You ask, finally meeting his eyes.

“The night we met.” Rafe says, pushing some hair behind your ears.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

That summer night was as hot and sticky as the rest.

The Pogues and the Kooks had all gathered at The Boneyard, all attending a bonfire put on by Pope. Rafe had never even planned on going, but after he heard there would be free booze and free cocaine, he decided he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. When Rafe had arrived, you were already there, bottle of beer at your lips as you sat with JJ and John B. Pope was around, walking the beach, mingling with the others.

Rafe watches you from across the sand, just a ways away, watching as you laughed at something JJ had said. He had seen you around, of course, knew that you were friends with all of his least favourite Pogues, but he had never really talked to you. You intrigued him right off the bat, sitting there all beautiful, surrounded by two of the biggest losers in North Carolina, at least in Rafe’s opinion. He excuses himself from his conversation with Topper and Kelce walked forward, pushing past people as he moved toward you, his hands in his pockets.

JJ glances over and immediately stands, ready to fight, but Rafe sticks his hands up in defence. “Relax, Maybank, relax. I come in peace tonight.”

JJ sits back down on the log next to you, scoffing. He grips the neck of the beer bottle tight. “What do you want, Rafe?”

Rafe looks down at you, and he suddenly doesn’t really know what he wants. He was so used to having a plan, knowing exactly what he was doing. But right now, he was just staring at you, and he didn’t really know what to say. Not that that ever stopped him before. “I came to talk.” he says.

“About what?” John B asks. “Have you come to apologise?”

“Apologise?” He snorts. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that. I just wanted to say something to the angel sitting over here.” His eyes flit over to you for a moment before looking at John B again. “I don’t want a big scene, just want a couple of minutes alone with her. Get to know her, you know?”

“Well, she's not interested,” John B says, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Go bother someone else. Plenty of girls here, I'm sure you can find one who's into Kook assholes like you.”

Rafe glares at John B, his head tilting slightly. He didn’t mind his insults to him, of course he didn’t, but he didn’t like the way John B was holding onto you, and he definitely didn’t like the way John B spoke for you. “Why don’t you let her speak for herself?”

You anxiously rub the beer bottle label with your thumb. “Sorry, Rafe. I’m trying to have a fun time with my friends tonight. But John B is right, there are plenty of girls here.”

Rafe purses his lips, his gaze flickering back and forth between you, John B, and JJ. He glances around, seeing plenty of girls nearby, all of them looking fine. Maybe he really was just imagining things, imagining the butterflies in his stomach and the blood rushing to his cock. He didn’t know you at all, really. He just thought you were pretty, and that had been enough for him to want you. This is just all his pride speaking, he didn’t like being rejected, he would move on. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. My apologies.” He excuses himself, exiting with a small wave before heading back over to Topper and Kelce.

“What a fucking asshole.” JJ mumbles, taking another sip of his beer. Your gaze follows him until he’s out of sight, heading behind a few rocks with Topper and Kelce. You could feel his eyes on you as he walked away, and it gave you a weird feeling. You didn’t want him to be mad at you for saying no, didn’t want him to think you were rude or anything, but you just weren’t interested in Kooks. Especially Rafe.

Even if he is really attractive, almost annoyingly so.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe watches you all night.

He gets high on coke, snorting way too many lines, hoping the buzz would keep you and your pretty little body off of his mind, but it does the opposite. He can’t stop himself from glancing over in your direction, staring for a bit too long as you dance around the fire with John B. He can’t keep his eyes off you, and by the time it’s getting closer to two in the morning, he’s had enough.

The coke has long since worn off, and he’s starting to get pissed off at himself, at wanting someone he can’t have, at getting so fixated on someone so goddamn quickly. He glances around the fire, noticing how many of the Pogues had wandered off, heading home or into the woods with different people for the night, and he suddenly sees his opportunity.

You, hunched over by the shore, throwing up. You had gotten really drunk, drinking beer after beer, and even sipping directly from a vodka bottle that Kiara brought. Rafe had hoped that your incessant intoxication would cause your body, or even your gaze, to find its way over to him, but it didn’t. You kept hanging onto that stupid asshole John B, both arms wrapped around his neck as you sat on his lap next to the bonfire. Rafe watched from afar as John B fed you s’mores, holding your chin in his hand to help you chew, gripping the beer bottle in his hands so tight he thought it would snap.

Rafe excuses himself from Topper and Kelce as he makes his way over to you, hands in his pockets. He can’t help but feel excited about your vulnerable state, all alone and sequestered away from your stupid Pogue friends. He stands behind you and watches, looking at the way your thighs look in your shorts before speaking, “You alright?”

You stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. Even after vomiting three times, you’re not any less drunk. “Mhm. Peachy.”

He watches you, a slight hint of concern in his eyes. You were really drunk, and you looked like you might collapse at any moment. Your balance was definitely off, which was clear the second you attempted to stand straight. “You want some water?”

You nod, stumbling towards him. You hit his chest, resting against it as your eyes close. “Please.”

His hands instinctively go to your hips, stabilising you against him so you don’t fall. His gaze travels over you, looking at your flushed face and your glassy eyes. So fucking drunk, and so fucking vulnerable. “Sit down a sec, angel. You’re gonna fall over.”

You let out a soft grunt as you sit in the sand, hands going down to dig into it to support yourself. “Okay.”

Rafe squats down next to you, looking out at the waves as they crash against the sand. He glances over at you, seeing how your big eyes were flitting around, unable to focus on one thing. You were so drunk, so out of it, so vulnerable, and he loved it more than anything. “You’re really smashed, huh?” He hands you a half empty water bottle, having drank most of it earlier. It was warm, and the lid was coated in sand, but you didn't seem to even notice.

You eagerly drink the rest of the water, swishing some in your mouth and spitting towards the shore before crunching the bottle in your hands, struggling to recap it. “Mhm. But that’s the point of a party.”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to have a good time. But you’re supposed to stay lucid, not get so trashed that all you can do is throw up and stumble around.” He takes the crushed water bottle from you, putting it aside before turning to face you again, kneeling in the sand.

Your eyes meet his, yet you’re looking right through him, barely registering what’s going on around you. You reach out and grab him, yanking him towards you, his hands falling to the sand on either side of your hips. Your faces are so close. “You’re pretty.”

Rafe grins, leaning forward a bit so that he was almost nose to nose with you, letting his gaze run over your face. You were so out of it, so out of control, so out of your mind, and he loved it, loving the far off look in your eyes. He felt so powerful knowing that he could have you, could do anything he wanted to and have you unable to deny him. It would be so easy to push you back against the sand, to hold you down and make you beg for him. He lets out a low, breathy laugh, his eyes still trained on yours. “Yeah? You think I’m pretty?”

“So pretty,” You mumble, reaching out to hold onto his biceps. “Prettiest guy ever.”

His lips curl into a smug smirk when you bring your hands to his arms. He moves his hands from the sand and rests them on your thighs, fingers trailing over the exposed skin as he moves to kneel between your legs. He was so close to you now, he could just move forward and kiss you. But he loves this, loves being so close that he could have you, loves how drunk you were, loves how all your inhibitions were gone right now. He loved the way you were looking at him. “Yeah? Prettiest guy on Kildare?”

“Prettiest guy in North Carolina,” You say, lightly scratching your nails on his biceps. “Prettiest guy in America.”

Rafe’s gaze darkens as your fingernails scrape at his biceps, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward, closer to you. You were so cute, so out of it, and you were here with him. You were calling him pretty and letting him touch you when you were normally so stubborn and headstrong. He knew if you weren’t as drunk, you’d be pushing him away, telling him to leave you alone, but you weren’t, and he takes advantage of that. He wants to take advantage of you. He leans closer, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah? The whole United States?”

You nod. “Yeah. Whole world, probably,” Rafe hums in satisfaction, his face still right next to yours, your nose touching his. He lets his gaze travel over your face, taking in the beautiful lines of your features, your big, glassy eyes, your flushed cheeks. He loves how vulnerable you are right now, how trusting and affectionate you are, his touch-starved self revelling in any attention you give him. One hand moves from your thigh, pushing some hair behind your ear. You swallow hard. “Wanna kiss you so bad. I always wanna kiss you.”

God, you’re so honest when you’re drunk, it makes his cock throb. “You do, angel? You wanna kiss me?” His hand moves to your cheek, gently brushing over your skin, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. One touch was all it would take to kiss you, a small jerk forward would be enough, and he desperately wants to. You bite your lip, still staring straight through him before leaning forward and kissing him, one hand going to the nape of his neck.

Rafe’s eyes widen as you lean in and kiss him. His jaw tenses, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets go, letting himself fall into the kiss. He reaches forward, grabbing you and practically pulling you into his lap. Your lips were so soft, so perfect, just how he thought they would be, and he lets out a sigh, his hand burying itself in your hair. You shift in his lap, pressing your chest against his, deepening the kiss. He lets out an almost desperate whimper when you press your chest against his, his hands sliding to your hips, moving you in his lap so that you’re straddling him, sitting on his thick thighs as he continues to kiss you. He pulls away, tongue brushing against yours. “You’re so perfect, baby.”

“Mhm…” You lean back, your head spinning. “Johnny…”

Rafe’s heart stops, just for a second.

Johnny?

His grip tightens on your hips as he racks his brain, trying to figure out who the fuck Johnny is--

John B.

You were hanging all over him at the party, sitting in his lap and letting him feed you s’mores. You thought he was John B.

You whine and squirm in his lap, feeling your stomach churn. He can hear the whine in your voice, feel the way you squirm as your gut revolts from the amount of alcohol you’ve had. “What’s wrong, baby? You feel sick?” He knew the answer, of course, seeing how pale your face was getting.

You nod and Rafe lets you up, looking over his shoulder as you vomit again onto the shore line. He stands, turning to face you. You thought he was John B this entire time. Were you and John B dating? Did he have no chance with you? Would you even remember this come tomorrow? He goes to step towards you as you vomit again when he hears someone calling your name. He looks back over his shoulder to see JJ and Pope heading down the dune, looking for you.

“What the fuck are you doing here with her?” Pope asks him as JJ rushes over to you, holding your hair back as you vomit again.

Rafe doesn’t hesitate, shooting a glare at Pope. “Just having a conversation.” His gaze lingers on JJ as he holds your hair back. “You guys taking her home? She’s pretty smashed.”

“Why do you care?” JJ asks, wiping your mouth for you.

“Just curious, why are you getting defensive?” He watches as JJ holds your face tenderly, looking after you, and he feels the overwhelming wave of jealousy again, although he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this possessive of someone before, never had strong feelings before, and seeing another man touch you, care for you, is really pissing him off. “God forbid I want someone to be okay, Maybank.”

“Don’t worry about her, man,” Pope says, joining JJ at your side. “None of your concern.”

He bites his tongue, hard. He didn’t want to start a fight, not with you being sick and your stupid friends acting like this. But god dammit, he really wanted to punch Pope, throw him right to the ground and kick him over and over until he was spitting up blood and guts. “Yeah, no, not worrying anymore. You handle her, then.”

“We will,” Pope says, helping you walk back towards the parking lot. “Later, asshole.”

Rafe sighs as you disappear from sight, kicking the sand. “Fuck.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe can’t get you out of his head. Not on his drive away from The Boneyard, not while he continues the party at Topper’s place, and not when he’s finally at home in his bed. He tosses and turns for a while, thinking about your lips against his and the way you felt in his lap, the way your skin felt under his fingers. Your little whines and whimpers play over and over in his head.

He feels himself growing harder as he flops onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Fuck,” he groans, running a hand through his hair. He reaches over and grabs his phone, unplugging it as he unlocks it. He pulls his boxers down, tucking them underneath his balls as he scrolls through his apps. He clicks on Instagram, heading to the search bar, before pausing. Shit. He didn’t know your last name. He sighs, switching over to his burner account and types JJ’s username into the search bar, @jj.maybankofficial. Little fucker had blocked him months ago. He clicks on JJ’s following list and types in your first name, and for a second he panics, half expecting nothing to show up.

But then he sees you.

Your profile is set to public. How convenient. How cute.

He scrolls through your photos, cock fully hardened, pre-cum already dripping from his tip. He finds a few he likes, screenshotting them for later, before finding one that makes his cock throb against his stomach. The photo of is of you in a bikini, holding a smoothie bowl, and smiling into the camera. One of the cups of your bikini is slightly pushed to the side, revealing some of your nipple.

Rafe's breath hitches as he stares at the picture on his phone. “Fuck... Look at those tits,” He mumbles, stroking faster. He leans forward, propping his phone up on his chest as he watches the photo intently. His other hand moves between his legs, and he fondles with his balls, cupping and squeezing them. Pre-cum leaks from the tip, making it easier to stroke. “Yeah, that's it,” he grunts, eyes locked on your face in the screen. “Such a pretty little thing.” Rafe keeps jerking himself off, moaning softly as he strokes faster. The hand that was on his balls reaches up, rubbing at one of his nipples, pinching and twisting it. He rolls his hips up, thrusting his hips into his hand. He can't help but imagine what it would be like if he was fucking you instead, your tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.

He cums embarrassingly quickly, cumming all over his phone screen, right on your pretty little face. He slumps back against his pillow, panting heavily as he comes down from his high. He wipes his sticky hand across his chest, smearing some of the cum onto his abs. He locks his phone and sets it aside, breathing heavily as his cock softens.

It isn’t enough. You’ve corrupted him, and he can’t stop thinking about you, and it isn’t long before he’s hard again. He needs more, he needs something different. “God dammit,” he mumbles, picking his phone back up. He unlocks it before going onto Google, typing in his favourite porn site and scrolling through the top search results, trying to find a girl that looks like you.

He finds a girl that looks close enough, starring in a video titled ‘Hot slut gets fucked rough by her brother’s best friend!!’. He tries so hard to jerk off to it, and although his cock is hard and leaking pre-cum, he can’t get into it. The lighting sucks, the angle is bad, and the girl is so loud and annoying. He exits the video and closes his phone, groaning as he lets go of his cock. Rafe stares back up at the ceiling, feeling his cock twitch against his stomach as it starts to soften.

This wasn’t working. He needed more.

Rafe sits up, digging through his bedside table, and pulls out a small dime bag of coke and a small pocket mirror. He pours some out carefully, smoothing it out and making one single line with his credit card. He sets the credit card down and grabs a dollar bill from his wallet, rolling it up tight. He keeps thinking about you, his mind going back to the way your ass looked in your shorts tonight and the way you clung onto him. He sets the mirror down on his bedside table before snorting the whole line in one go. The cocaine burns as it enters his nose, the effects kicking in within minutes as his head starts to rush. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans back against the wall, the high hitting him hard.

Rafe needed you.

Fuck. He was going to regret this.

He stands up with a grunt, pulling his boxers back up. He was still hard as fuck, the coke definitely not helping. He digs through his dresser and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, putting them on before slipping his shoes on and grabbing his keys. He rushes out of Tanneyhill, heading down the driveway towards his truck. He hops in, completely forgetting his seatbelt as he puts his keys in the ignition, turning the car on and pulling out of his driveway. He drives along the streets, the adrenaline making the cocaine even more intense. He knows he’s probably too high to be driving a vehicle, but he can’t help himself, he needs you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he drives, his mind swimming with images of you.

It’s a 15-minute trip to the south side of the island, and soon he realises that he doesn’t know where you live. Rafe sighs, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He’s a powerful man with powerful connections. He scrolls through his contacts, tapping on a name. It rings a couple of times before someone picks up on the other side. “Yeah?” the voice on the other end asks, sounding exhausted.

“Hey, Agent Peterkin,” Rafe says. “It’s Rafe. Ward’s son?”

“Yeah, I know who you are, kid. What is it?” The annoyance in her tone was obvious.

“Listen, I uh…” Rafe sighs. “I need help finding someone’s address. They were at my party tonight, and they were pretty drunk, so I just wanted to check on them.”

There’s a long pause from the other end of the phone, and Rafe can hear the creaking of a chair as she shifts her weight. “Whose address, kid?” Rafe gives her your name, hands gripping the steering wheel as he hears her typing away.

There are a few more pauses of silence, the clicking of the keyboard, before she responds. “Got it, I texted it to you. Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“Does she have a record, or?” Rafe asks. “I'm just trying to stay clean, you know. Like we talked about.”

She lets out a humourless laugh. “No, she’s clean. Parents are clean, too. Nothing to be concerned about. You’ve been staying away from coke like you said, right?”

“Of course I am, Agent Peterkin,” Rafe says. “Alright, thanks for your help. Have a good night.”

Peterkin sighs, knowing that she doesn’t believe him for a second. “Behave yourself,” is all she responds with before she hangs up.

Rafe opens the text thread, finding your address. He clicks on it, and it opens up the map app on his phone. It’s not far, only 5 more minutes, down the street from The Chateau.

He feels himself grinning, his heart rate picking up as he gets closer, knowing that he was going to see you again soon. He drives a little bit faster than he should, turning onto the road your house is on before pulling up outside. He stares at the house, his gaze flitting from window to window, trying to figure out which window was your bedroom. He parks his truck down the street, walking through the darkness towards your house.

It was small. Cute. Looked easy to break into.

Rafe checks the windows, finding them all locked with the curtains drawn. He tries your front door, which is locked as well. He moves around to the back of the house, walking past your backyard and finding the back door. He carefully walks up the stairs, hand on the doorknob. He takes a deep breath before twisting it.

It opens.

He grins triumphantly, silently pushing it open and walking through the dark house. He shuts the door behind him, glancing around. He had to remind himself to go slow, to stay steady. You weren’t his yet, but you would be. He slowly makes his way through the dark house, looking around for anything to tell him where your room was. He opens one of the doors and peeks in, but finds your parents both asleep, the TV on low. He carefully shuts the door before heading down the hallway towards the second closed door.

He slowly pushed open the door to your room, breathing out when he sees the bed. His gaze travels over the walls, the decorations, the furniture. There’s a small light on your bedside table, casting a soft golden glow over your skin. He walks towards the bed, sitting on the edge, watching you sleep. You were out like a light, completely unaware that he was here, watching you. You looked so perfect when you were asleep, so peaceful, curled up on your side wearing a thin tank top and tiny little pyjama shorts. He gently reached out, letting his fingers trail over your soft cheek.

He feels his cock harden again.

“Okay,” He breathes out softly as he slowly, carefully flips you over onto your back. You shift around and mumble, but you don’t wake up. He lets out a shaky breath, untying his sweatpants and pushing them down around his knees. He pulls his cock out, his boxers resting underneath his balls.

You shift again, wiggling around on the bed, throwing your arms over your head. You’re still asleep.

Rafe freezes, heart pounding in his chest as he watches you move in your sleep. His cock twitches, throbbing in his hand as he imagines what it would feel like when he first pushes into you, feeling your warm wetness envelop him. He leans closer, slowly trailing a finger down your neck, across your collarbone, and along the swell of your breast. He cups your breast in his palm, thumb brushing over your nipple as it hardens under his touch. A soft whimper escapes your lips, but you remain unconscious, lost in slumber. He pushes your tank top up carefully, revealing your stomach, so soft and just begging to be covered in kisses. If he lifted your shirt any higher he would risk waking you.

Rafe's breathing grows ragged as he continues to explore your body, mapping every curve and contour. He wants to memorise you, to claim every inch of you as his own. And he will, in time. He squeezes his cock before starting to brush his fingers over the tip. He starts to jerk off again, panting softly, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up slightly to give him better access. His fingers brush over your inner thigh, teasing you through your thin pyjama shorts. He rubs his thumb over your clothed slit, feeling how warm you are. His movements become more erratic, faster, chasing his release as he imagines burying himself inside you and cumming, claiming you as his own, as his little angel. His hand starts to speed up as his fingers drift over to your face, dragging them across your lips. He didn’t want to wake you up, but fuck he wanted to touch you more.

He suddenly stops touching you, leaning back as he grips his cock tighter, his free hand going to fondle his balls, stroking furiously as he cums all over your stomach, groaning quietly, whispering your name over and over. He pants softly, wiping the cum off on your pyjamas before tucking himself away and fixing his clothes. He glances at you once more before slipping out of the room, leaving as quietly as he came. He pauses at the end of the hall, glancing back one last time before forcing himself to leave, knowing he'd be back again soon enough. He couldn't get enough of you, and he knew that no matter how many times he snuck in to watch you sleep or touched himself while imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to you, he would always come back for more. You were his, whether you knew it or not. His obsession. His angel. His everything. And one day, he'd make sure everyone else knew it too.

Especially that fucker John B.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe smirks at the horrified look on your face. “That’s how we met, baby. You don’t remember?”

You squirm violently, trying to push him away, although your body is still lethargic. “You’re sick, Rafe.”

He rolls his eyes, holding you down against his chest. “Please. You’re the one who told me I was pretty.” He teases, resting his chin on the top of your head as he keeps you pinned in his lap.

“I thought you were John B,” You say, defending yourself. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“But it was me,” He says, burying his nose in your hair. “You think I’m pretty.” He repeats, nuzzling your neck before pulling back and running his fingers through your hair, feeling how soft it is.

“You can’t do this, Rafe,” You say, eyes starting to well with hot, shameful tears. “You can’t keep me here!”

“But I can,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him, smiling softly at the look of fear in your eyes. You looked so beautiful when you were scared of him. “And I will keep you here. I’ve come to take what’s mine.”

He leans in close, biting your earlobe. “You can’t run from me forever.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

i'm sorry that the ending is kinda blah. i didn't know what to do lol.

part three is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my obx taglist here!

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readychilledwine · 3 months ago

Text

A Page From Another's Book

Eris Week - Day 1 - Bonds and Bargains

Summary - After 2 full years without you acknowledging the bond, Eris is willing to do whatever it takes for just a moment of your time

Warnings - Smut, choking (kind of), mating bonds, forced proximity, slight manipulation, and possibly a few missed errors. If you see them, no, you didn't 👀

A/N - Happy @erisweekofficial! I have challenged myself this week to try to use both prompts in one fic. Why? Because I could not choose! They were so good this year.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears 💕💕

The look in your eyes was not what a male wanted to see from their mate. You looked at Eris like you hated him, a soft snarl always playing on lips too plush to have been real.

But Gods that look did things to him. Things that had his own smirk growing as you two stared at each other in silence, waiting for Rhysand to finish looked over the contact for trade Beron had forced his heir to come present. Rhysand was using his hand to hide a smirk.

The scent of the bond between Eris and y/n was potent. Honey and apples. Ginger and cinnamon. The High Lord understood now why so many of his family members complained about the way his and Feyre's scents mix. He could hardly tell who was who anymore but he couldn't stop breathing it in all the same.

“You can go sister, I believe I can hold my own against our dear Eris,” Rhysand dismissed you so easily. Your eyes met his in silent conversation before you stood, black dress swishing as you did and walked out of the room.

Eris felt himself relax then, body melting as he and Rhysand began to show each other vulnerability, “You told me she'd warm up to me by now.”

Rhys pinched his brows, “Y/n is a complex creature. Beautiful as the rising moon, complex as the stars.”

“And crafted from the very darkness between them,” Eris's fingers rolled, nails tapping the table in a pattern of annoyance. “What do I do?”

“Force her into a bargain,” Rhysand was half joking as he struck out a line on Beron's trade agreement. He paused, sharp mind and eyes hitting Eris. “That.. May actually work.”

Eris looked at Rhysand like he had grown two heads, “She would not make a bargain with me, she hates me.”

“She likes knowledge more than she hates you, trust me. And, Eris Vanserra, you live in a court she has never been able to go to.”

Eris fell into a brief moment of silence, “And you believe this could work?”

“It turned out well for me,” Rhysand picked at his jacket. “Make a bargain with her, force her to spend time with you.”

Rhysand slid the contract back over, a look of annoyance on his face as he did, "Your father,” the word spoken with such disdain, “needs to learn what fair terms actually means.”

“I do not believe my Father would know fair if it bit him in the ass,” that snake like smirk came forward. “Luckily, it will be me you deal with soon-”

“Is it not you I deal with already,” Rhys groaned. “Anyways, y/n. Bargain her a week in Autumn in exchange for intel.” He said it so casually, having accepted what the Fates and Cauldron decided would be with you the second the bond snapped during the war with Hybern.

And what a dramatic way for it to have snapped. A fight between Autumn and Night's emissaries leading to you pinning the heir to the ground, dagger at his throat.

It was one thing you and Azriel had in common:

Going for the jugular whenever you two deemed it fit.

Rhys waved a hand dismissing Eris, “I'm sure she is in the hall, waiting to guide you to your room.”

And you were, leathers clinging to every curve, one wing stretched out while you pulled your arm across your body, “Sore, assassin?”

Defiant eyes met his, narrowing slightly as he stared, “Only by the sight of you, heirling.” You began to walk away from him, forcing Eris to follow you to his room in Hewn City. Footsteps fell in time, breathing in sync as the bond between you two pulled and flickered.

It wasn't tense, but the quiet that lingered was thick. There were mountains of emotions between you two. Anger that lingered from years of what he claims was all an act and lies.

“You look beautiful today,” you were the only being he ever spoke this gently to. “Your hair has gotten longer.”

“Are we making casual observations?”

Eris smirked at the way your held a bite yet your eyes were soft. You were truly the most beautiful creature he had ever gotten to lay eyes on. In a dress, armor, casual clothing, leathers. Your confidence was unmatched. You owned every room you walked into. He admired that about you.

Eris opened the door to his room, hand going just above the small of your back to usher you in, “I have an offer for you.”

You leaned against the wall, a shadow coming to check on you. It indicated he was on a time crunch, that your brother would be coming soon. “I am listening.”

“Come with me to Autumn. A week of your time in one of my private residences in exchange for intel on my father.”

Your mind began to race at the possibilities. Bringing home info to Rhysand that the Night Court could use was like dangling a sparkling object infront of a fish. He knew you would bite. “What is in it for you?”

“You. Just one week where I get to see my mate in my court, in our fashion, enjoying our food. Such a small thing to give me in exchange for the knowledge I will give you, and your ability to stay safely in a court you've never enjoyed.”

It was tempting, so tempting the shadow on your shoulder panicked and ran to Azriel. “What's the catch?” You moved to sit on the chair, long legs crossing at the ankles as the two of you continued staring each other down.

“No catch, my lady.” He moved to you, a hand touching the loose hair from your braid. It was a bold and dangerous choice, touching you so freely. “Just a week in exchange for information. That's all I wager.”

His hand raised to you, the freckled skin calloused from training and earning his place as a general, but so soft. Hands spoke volumes to you, and his were so similar to Rhysand's. You raised your hand slowly and took his, feeling the warmth from his skin heating yours.

The bargain mark for you was nothing, a small rune on the inside of your left ring finger, but he flinched slightly before moving to the mirror across the room and pulling up his shirt. He rolled his eyes at the small matching rune above his heart. “What does it say?”

“Agape,” you responded quietly. “We need to leave if you plan on getting out of this alive. Azriel is coming.”

He grabbed your without hesitation, without even putting his shirt back on. Fire and smoke surrounded you before the silence of a cabin. Soft whimpers immediately started before howling. Loud howling. 12 hounds all began to point their noses to the skies they couldn't see. It was a celebration of his arrival home before the smallest then began to pawn at the door.

Eris just smiled as he made his way over, “Be back before dinner,” he told them, patting each one on the head as they can out into the warded clearing. Your feet carried you behind them, eyes wide in wonder as you took in the colors of the trees.

Warmth.

A fireplace with a good book and spiced cider.

Chilled air and pumpkins.

You had always longed to see Autumn, but Beron's prejudice towards Illyrians always got in the way. “Eris..” You were speechless as you admired the woods, the crunchy leaves on the ground. “Its-”

“Home,” he finished as he leaned on the railing watching his hounds. “We're right on the border of Autumn and Winter. There are times where the run rises and sets on the creek and lake near by that makes the snow of Winter appear like it is on fire.” His smile was so soft, eyes relaxed, muscles even slowly loosing tension. “This is my favorite cabin I have. The village nearby is quiet, open minded, hates my father.”

“That seems to be a reoccurring theme,” you jumped in.

Eris smirked but didn't say anything. “Can I offer you more comfortable clothing? A drink?”

Night one with him was filled with you two reading silently, one of his hounds being the first to inch his way into your lap and cuddle. Rhysand had not checked in, Azriel had not searched for you. Not even a mocking letter from Nesta. It was peace, bliss that allowed your guard to fall down.

He allowed you to sleep alone in a spare bed, not even asking as you used your ability to shift to get rid of your wings for the night and stole his sweater to sleep in.

The smell of bacon woke you from your lay in. A rare lazy morning that had you stretching as you walked on in just his sweater.

It felt so domestic, natural to both of them. He wordlessly handed her coffee and sugar, sipping his own. He was shirtless, lean form on display and making your brain spiral to the what ifs. His sweatpants hung low on his hips as he continued cooked breakfast, knowing you could not do it.

“How far do you powers as a wild form go?” You glanced at him, not ready to speak without at least getting one sip of coffee in. His hands shot up in defense, a graceful step back as he did. “I am asking because I wanted to leave you with some marks so you could do shopping. Observe the village here.”

You only hummed, reaching for a finished piece of the crispy bacon and bending down to give it to the sweet hound that had attached himself to you. “What's his name?”

Eris sneered as you gave his well trained pet a piece of bacon, dark brown eyes meeting his like it was a victory, “That is Whiskey.” The Hound seemed to skip away as you stood up, “And you will not spoil him.”

“Says the male who had 3 in his bed last night and the rest all in fluffy dog beds that a nicer than what some poor lower fae have.”

“They are orthopedic. Smoke hounds require comfort for their limbs,” his tone was definitely defensive. Almost parental. “They are faithful companions. They deserve comfort.”

You were thankful for your ability to hide laughter, but your eyes began to betray you. This male was not the one you knew, the one who you believed left your dear friend for dead. “To answer the earlier question, it's limitless, like Tamlin's ability, only less effort and my scent is hidden.”

“So you can spend my coin today,” he tossed the bag casually on the counter. He moved the pan from the heat before reaching around you, “You are even beautiful in the morning.” He'd carry the torch for you. He'd carry it even if you rejected the bond, as pathetic as that was.

Day two with him was filled with heated glances that grew the more he showed you who he was. Touches that lingered as he took you from shop to shop, purchasing candies, clothing, books.

He was a handsome male. You'd be a fool to lie if you said otherwise.

The third evening is when things became more. The bond was humming, desperate for anything to happen between you two. Music was playing softly as you two read again. You books on the history of Autumn, Eris a novel he refused to let you see the cover of. His fingers swayed his bookmark in a small dance, the movement as smooth as you had witnessed as he and Nesta glided across the floors of Hewn City.

“You're staring,” He said without looking to you. “Did your high lord never teach you it's impolite to stare?”

“Maybe if your bookmark wasn't waving all over the place while you read your smut,” you muttered back at him. Amber eyes met yours, brows raised as he mouth tried to formulate a response.

“It's not smut. It's a love story!”

You snatched the book from him, the brief contact of your body against his making the bond pound, “Her body sang for him. Each roll of his hips setting fire to her veins,” Your voice reading those lines had the scent in the air shifting. He could no longer mask his need for you as he took a deep breath. “His length filled her, reaching places inside of her she'd never find without him, pulling sob after sob from swollen lips as she held to him.”

“Enough.” He grabbed the novel back and drank his whiskey like a shot as he stared at you now.

No more words passed as you tell held eye contact.

No pointed remarks. No jokes.

The music seemed to fade as the bond began ringing in your ears.

2 years. 2 years if knowing who your mate was. 2 years without even so much as a kiss.

It was finally too much. You had never enjoyed slow burn romances. Why turn this into one when the longing lingered all the same.

Perhaps he closed the gap. Or maybe you did, but it happened. His lips on yours in a passionate kiss, dominating you quickly by tugging your hair back to angle your head.

There was no looming war. No assassinations waiting to happen. No lingering past wounds. Not as he lifted you, laying you down infront of the fire place.

Not as he pulled your shirt off, then his own.

Not as he kissed down your body, nipping and marking his favorite places to remind him to spend more time there later. Neither of you could wait. Neither of you wanted to.

Your bodies were born ready and aching for each other. Like two halves forced apart and just waiting to collide.

Even in the heat of this moment, he looked at you, eyes searching for a sign of doubt, for anything that didn't ring a resounding yes. All he found was lust. Heavy deep want weighing on both of your souls.

He reminded you that you two were nothing more than stardust. Stardust given life and form. Needs and wants. A chance.

You understood the book now as he filled you, stretching you after time spent without a partner. You understood that now, too. Understood why Lucien was all too happy to wait as well.

It had never felt like this. Sex had never felt like coming home. Like your soul was nurtured as he wrapped your legs around his hips. As he moved, he used the bond to instantly get his feedback. He wanted you to sing for him, to cry his name, and when he found that soft spot inside of you, he knew he could have it.

His movements focused on that spot as you grabbed his forearms, back arching off the ground for him, mouth falling into a silent scream.

“Look at me, y/n,” he panted. “Look at me when I make you see the heavens.”

His thumb moved to your clit, circling and rolling it in time with his hips, watching as your breasts bounced.

There wasn't an inch of you Eris wasn't instantly falling in love with. You were exquisite. Not too thin, curves in all the right places. Muscles strong and flexible.

“You are better than I dreamed,” he moaned. “A muse hidden to all but me.”

You whispered his name, eyes squeezing shut as the coil began to build and tighten. He would be the death of you. You of him if he wished, “Eris.”

“Sing for me, my fire.”

The coil built more and more, “Eris!”

He kept pushing and kept hitting that spot. He wouldn't last, not with the way you two fit like a puzzle. With the way your warmth hugged him. But you were also there, dangling from the edge by a string Eris held in his hands.

“Eris, please?”

“What do you need,” he whispered. “I want to hear it. Beg for me it.”

Your hands trembled as you moved his hand that wasn't occupied with your sensitive clit to your throat, eyes looking at him in silent understanding.

Life had not been gentle or kind to you, nor to him, love would not be either.

He squeezed softly, only enough to make you feel the euphoria. His pace picked up, driving hard and faster into you.

It was a chain reaction as you hit your high, screaming his name like you had in all of his dreams. He followed you over, groaning loudly before he praised you and worked you through your heightened state. Screams fell to soft whimpers, whimpers to pants.

Eris waited until the shaking set in, until he knew you were done to pull out before standing to grab a cloth to clean you. Soft kisses were shared as he took care of you before wrapping you both in a blanket.

You two said nothing as you processed what happened.

You didn't even mention the mark on his left hip. One that you knew. That matched Mor’s only hidden mark.

You just processed. Processed that you knew deep down that you loved him. Processed that in few days the bargain mark you shared would disappear from you both, fulfilled and nothing more than a smear on your histories.

In a few days, you'd be going back to the Night Court.

And you couldn't help but you find yourself considering if that was truly home.

How could it be when it wasn't where your mate was?

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flowerandblood · 3 months ago

Text

The Price of Pride (11/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: loss of virginity, dubcon, sex content, unprotected sex, description of the battle, wounds, burns, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Looking at her peaceful face, listening to her quiet breath as she finally fell asleep in his arms, he felt fulfilled as a man, a brother and a lover. At last he had taken her for himself, whole, and she lay beside him, filled with his seed, through which she could bear his inheritance in the future.

He had desired this for a long time, had thought about it for a long time, had planned it for a long time, however, his concern for her had always prevailed – he understood what the loss of maidenhood meant for a woman and that if he took it from her without having serious intentions for her, he would humiliate her and expose her to defamation.

Now that he had made up his mind, however, his judgement was unable to stop his members, and he forced his way deep into her warm, tight body, with one aggressive thrust taking what was rightfully his.

His hand muffled her cries of despair and pain that he fully understood – he knew that this part of the act would not be pleasurable for either of them, that he had to be brutal to tear apart what made it impossible for him to sink fully into her.

If he had been gentle, she would have agonised and cried for long minutes, surely losing her desire for him to ever touch her again.

He knew that she understood that.

That he would never cause her pain for his own satisfaction.

That he did it for her.

"– shhh – shhh, little sister, the worst is behind us –" He breathed out, looking at her with tenderness and concern, stroking her hot cheek with his palm, all wet with tears.

He didn't know if it would have been comforting to her to know that he was in pain too – her walls were too tight and pulsed with panic against his erection.

He knew what she felt because he had experienced something similar himself when he first lay in bed with Madam – he guessed that for her, too, the experience of a stranger's body in such intimacy and proximity, invading her space in every possible way, made her feel terrified and cornered, unable to escape from him.

She looked at him with her big doe eyes as he took his hand from her mouth, breathing loudly, trying to be brave and take it, for him, just for him.

"– I'm scared –"

He froze, looking at her in pain, feeling a sting in his heart at her words, so innocent, childlike: she was completely vulnerable and terrified, at his mercy, revealing to him what she really felt.

He felt shame.

"– do you want me to stop? – I will if you want me to – forgive me –" He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers as he always did when he wanted to reassure and soothe her, his hand stroking her hair.

She shook her head, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking up at him with confidence and hope, as if she believed he meant her no harm, that this sudden act was dictated only by lust and hot desire.

He sighed and leaned in, placing a tender, soft kiss on her hot, sweaty cheek with an affection that filled his whole heart, his manhood pulsing deep inside her anew, wanting to continue what he had started.

"– don't be afraid, zaldrītsos – we'll do it slowly – I won't hurt you –" He whispered, stroking her head as if she were a small child.

He watched her face intently, breathing loudly as he slid out of her almost fully with a slow, gentle movement, only to sink into her heat again a moment later. All he heard was her gasp, her lips parted wide, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her fingers clenched tightly on his shoulders.

She was so warm.

He groaned, feeling a wave of pleasure surge through his body as, with each successive thrust, her throbbing, fleshy cunt began to offer him less and less resistance, as if she were adjusting to the shape of his swollen erection – the act began to be pleasurable for not only for him, but to his relief, also for her – she closed her eyes and moaned quietly, her insides increasingly wet and slick, as with lazy, precise stabs he hit again and again the spot inside her that he had always teased with his fingers or tongue.

If he was grateful for anything Madam, it was for showing him exactly how and where a woman should be touched to give her pleasure while being inside her – to his surprise, it wasn't a matter of simply moving within her, but of pushing against her upper wall, rubbing against her to tease the soft bud inside her from which she melted into bliss.

"– ah –" She mewled, opening her eyes, looking up at him in a way from which his cock throbbed aggressively inside her, a pleasant shiver ran along his spine as he felt her hands slide from his shoulders down his waist to his buttocks, clenching on them.

He sighed and moaned quietly, surprised by her boldness, having never been touched by a woman in this way – it was a new sensation, but it aroused him as it made her hips begin to meet his, rolling back and forth.

"– does it hurt? –" He muttered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, placing soft, warm kisses on the tip of her nose and lips, thrusting into her a little more confidently – he felt a drop of sweat run from his neck down his torso, the tightness in his testicles testifying that his whole body was screaming for him to quicken his pace.

He wanted it so badly.

"– n-no – not anymore – but – how should it look? – how have you done it with other women? –" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she were embarrassed, and he stopped moving, looking at her in disbelief, feeling his swollen cock twitch inside her.

"– do you want to see for yourself? –" He breathed out and saw that she nodded.

"– fuck me –"

Fuck me.

Something in those words, in how direct and ungodly they were, unworthy of a wife, a lady or a sister made him start pounding into her as if he'd lost his mind, their hips bumping against each other with the loud smacks of their naked bodies, their moans and grunts pathetically helpless, on the verge of crying, their silhouettes pressed against each other in a passionate, tight embrace, her legs crossed over his back.

"– fucking mine –" He hissed through clenched teeth, thinking that neither his brother, nor his mother, nor anyone else could have changed what he had just done, the fact that he was taking her for himself, that he was fucking her like a whore, and she was moaning beneath him in pleasure – his tongue thrust deep into her throat, sliding in and out to the rhythm of his fierce, sharp stabs, repeating the same movements in her mouth and deep inside her throbbing core.

They were both panting loudly, hot and sweaty from the exertion, rocking their hips so that their bodies hit each other again with a loud slaps – he pressed his forehead against hers again and looked down, unable to deny himself the sight of what he was doing to her, opening her small, warm cunt wide with sticky clicks of her moisture on his fat, swollen cock, all soaked in her juices.

"– vok syt nyke (perfect for me) – ao se aōha byka orvorta (you and your little cunt) –" He exhaled with satisfaction and heard her girlish, innocent cry of delight.

"– Aemond –" She mewled pleadingly as if she wanted him to save her – he sighed and closed his eyes as he felt her come on his erection, her wetness oozing out of her with each of his pushes, his thighs and her buttocks all slick with her release.

He looked at her face curved in an expression of utter bliss, at her glistening mouth open wide in a sweet moans, at her closed eyes from which tears of relief flowed, and felt a squeeze in his stones testifying that this was it.

"– oh gods – oh gods, yes, yes, yes, hāedar –" He breathed out and closed his eye, feeling that his peak was so overpowering that for a moment he could hear or see nothing, dull to any sound or sight, panting hard and moaning like a little boy, feeling with relief as his seed spilled deep inside her in waves.

He came inside her.

She was his.

And even though he knew she didn't believe him, he was going to make it stay that way.

No fucking Grejyoy had any right to the hand of her, the Targaryen, the dragon rider, his little sister.

Only he could be her husband.

He was awakened by her touch – as he opened his eyelids lazily the first rays of light blinded him – he murmured, feeling her body snuggled into his chest, her head laid on his shoulder. He stroked her hair with his hand and she looked up at him, in her eyes tears, sadness and terror.

He understood why she felt that way.

He had taken from her something that was most precious to a woman, even though he was not yet her husband.

"– you have a right to resent me – but I swear to you that we will marry – even if it means I have to burn my brother myself –" He said coldly, and she rose quickly on her elbow, startling him, her eyes and mouth wide open in horror.

"– no – no, I beg you, don't do it – I'll bear it, I'll bear it all, just don't burden your soul even more –" She whimpered pleadingly, grasping his hand in hers, kissing it as if he were some kind of saint.

He stared at her in disbelief, breathing heavily, feeling a squeeze in his throat, tears of emotion gathered under his eyelids at the thought that no one had ever cared about what was happening deep inside him.

And yet she had seen it.

"– hāedar –" He whispered as she wept loudly, hugging her cheek to his hand, tears of despair and pain again running down her beautiful, smooth face.

He leaned towards her, gripping her in his arms and placed a sweet, warm kiss on her plump lips, one he would have been ashamed of if he had been with someone else, one he would have hated himself for, considering himself weak and pathetic, but not with her, never with her.

With her, gentle, tender, warm, soft caresses were natural and desired.

"– ñuhon (mine) –" He whispered between one sticky kiss and another, sinking his full lips into hers again and again with loud clicks of their saliva, running the tips of his fingers over her cheek, jaw and neck.

"– aōhon (yours) –" She sighed softly right into his mouth, and he groaned quietly, feeling his morning erection swell unbearably, causing him pain.

She didn't stand up to him when he lay down on top of her, and her thighs, in some natural, innocent reflex, spread out in front of him, allowing him to look at her sweet, pink shell, from which a pearly trickle of his spend was leaking.

He settled himself on his knees in front of her and guided the thick head of his cock against her warm opening, sliding into her flesh with a slow, soft thrust of his hips.

She moaned with exertion, clamping her hands on the fabric of the bedclothes around her head, her beautiful, long hair scattered in disarray, surrounding her face the way the night sky surrounds the moon, looking up at him with the gaze of her doe eyes, her eyebrows arched in discomfort and pleasure.

"– shhh, sweet girl – we will do it slowly – very slowly –" He assured her, leaning over her, and she nodded with a soft little smile.

He nuzzled his face into the hollow of her neck and she sank her lips into to the skin of his shoulder, letting his whole body press her to the bed – she threw her legs over his back as with lazy, tentative thrusts he began to move in and out of her with their quiet grunts of pleasure, their fingers clenched tightly on their naked bodies.

This time her flesh didn't resist him – her cunt was hot and slick from their shared wetness, ready to welcome him inside her, her breath deep and steady, as if by having been through this before she already knew what to expect and it reassured her.

"�� just like that – my sweet little sister – your brother is here – right here –" He whispered in her ear, stroking her soft breasts, her waist with his broad hands, clamping them finally on her plump buttocks – she threw her head back with a sweet moan, her walls squeezing his erection tightly at his words, showing him that she indeed loved it when he spoke to her.

She was so eager, so thirsty for his caresses, while remaining almost naively innocent.

They both groaned lowly as they felt her begin to leak, their hips pounding against each other with loud splats, sticky from her wetness, making his cock pulsate inside her greedily, delighted that he was sinking into her fleshy walls again.

She was so warm.

It felt so safe.

"– we'll do this often after I return – all day and night we'll breed our heir –" He gasped with a sigh, rolling his hips back and forth, sinking into her faster and more aggressively – she moaned with a sweet smile, driving her short nails into the soft structure of his firm buttocks.

"– and once I give you a son? –" She hummed warmly, stroking his neck, and he looked down at her – her gaze was full of peace, as if, despite her earlier words that she didn't want to be a wife or a mother, she was imagining herself now, holding a baby in her arms, his son with his white hair – she was panting hard along with him, her lovely breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts, making him involuntarily clamp his hand over one of them, playing with her hard nipple with his thumb.

"– then you'll bear me another –"

He and Aegon had left the Red Keep on horseback, informing their mother that they were going on patrol together, which was of course a lie – Criston Cole had sent him word that the place where he was to wait for his signal had not changed and that was where they were to head to finally really begin this war.

He wondered who Rhaenyra would send to face them.

As he soared into the sky on Vhagar he spotted Sunfyre and Aegon circling above Dragon's Pit in the distance – both of them headed in the same direction.

It took them a couple of hours to reach the location, but he was relieved to see that the battle had not yet begun and they had arrived in time – he and Vhagar had landed far from the battlefield to preserve the effect of surprise, and his brother had followed his lead.

Aegon slid off Sunfyre, knowing that they would surely have to wait a long time for a sign from Cole, deciding to stretch his legs. He did the same and sighed, not looking at him, feeling uncomfortable now that they were left alone, just the two of them.

He felt resentment towards him for trying to take her away from him, but he was also filled with satisfaction because his brother didn't know what he had been doing to her all night.

Aegon finally approached him, keeping his hands on his hips, as if he was struggling to finally say something to him.

"You are aware that I did not do this out of malice, are you? I'm the King now. We need the Greyjoys, we don't have the fleet to stand up to the Velaryons, and they can provide it for us. I don't expect you to abandon her, and I won't say a word if you decide to secretly continue to… see her." He said in a way as if he was trying to throw out something simultaneously wise and comforting, to him, however, it sounded like pathetic gibberish, his hopeless attempt to clear his conscience.

"Do you want me to humiliate her? Make a ridicule of her and myself?" He snorted, shaking his head, looking away from him, unable to bear the sight of him.

Aegon licked his lower lip and laughed nervously.

"Gods, what's wrong with that? Even our mother enjoys the pleasures of life and male companionship as she sees fit. Am I to punish her for this, knowing that she spent her youth looking after the rotting, decaying old man that was our father?" He asked, and he froze, looking at him in shock.

"Did you know about this?" He muttered.

Aegon burst out laughing.

"Servants are not blind, brother, and it so happens that I, unlike you, do not despise gossip. You don't want to listen to it, while I do just the opposite, because there is always a grain of truth in it. This is what has always made us different: you look away from what disgusts you, what you are ashamed of."

"I should be proud of it then? Of my mother, whose bed is warmed by her guard, that they can beget a bastard and humiliate us all?" He howled with rage, not understanding what he wanted from him, how he could expect him to accept such behaviour from her.

"Our cousin warms your bed too, but I don't recall you asking me to marry her before you began to do so. Where was your honour and your affection for her then? And as for our mother, she is no fool: she knows what to do to make sure that no unwanted…consequences of her little secret arise." He said, combing his white hair with his fingers.

He swallowed hard and lowered his gaze.

"I regret it."

"What?"

"I regret the fact that I didn't ask you for her hand sooner." He muttered.

His brother sighed loudly and approached him, surprising him by simply patting him on the arm as if to comfort him.

"You said yourself that you didn't take her maidenhood, so don't torment your conscience. What our tongues and hands do to women should remain our secret." He said lightly, as if he considered the matter settled.

"The situation is different now." He said with shame.

Aegon blinked and shook his head.

"Just yesterday, during our conversation – you maintained that she is a maiden."

"Because she was. But she is no longer." He whispered in trembling voice.

Aegon closed his eyes, hid his face in his hands and leaned back with a low groan of rage.

"FUCK! Gods, why do you always have to fuck everything up? Like with Luke it was also an accident and your cock slipped into her unintentionally?" He exclaimed exasperated and angry, pacing back and forth, unable to calm down.

He lowered his gaze, feeling like a small child, wanting just to cry.

"Tell me you showed at least enough forethought to make sure she wouldn't carry your bastard." He said finally, looking at him expectantly and crouched down, burying his head between his knees seeing his pale face.

"Wed her to me."

"I've already told you. We need –"

"Faithful hound. That's what you called me behind my back. You laughed that I barked when I fucked my whore. Do you really think gossip doesn't reach my ears?" He asked coldly, feeling that he was shaking with terror and rage.

Aegon looked at him uneasily, clearly feeling discomfort at the thought that he knew this.

"If you wish your hound to remain faithful to you, give him what he asks, or he may bite his master's hand. Hard. And that's not what any of us would want, is it?" He cooed with a broad smile, cocking his head.

His brother swallowed hard, his lips pressed together in a thin line out of rage.

"Are you fucking threatening me?" Aegon hissed, and he grinned even wider.

"I'm only warning you, brother."

Aegon stood up and opened his mouth, apparently wanting to explode with anger, but they heard the sound of a trumpet in the distance, getting louder and louder.

"Choose wisely." He growled to him and left his brother with terror in his eyes, climbing up the long ropes to Vhagar's back.

"Sōvēs!"

His dragoness rose lazily, making the ground around them shake, terrified fowl flew away from between bushes and tree branches. He heard his brother give the same order to Sunfyre and after a moment they both took to the skies, heading to meet their destiny.

He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering with a rapidly beating heart if it was worth the risk of his brother disagreeing.

Wouldn't it be better to be sure.

And then he saw her face swollen with tears, her cheek nestled in his palm.

Don't burden your soul even more.

He swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in his throat as he saw their army in the distance and a large red dragon he recognised immediately.

Meleys.

Of course.

Daemon was in Harrenhal, and Rhaenys was the most experienced of them all.

After what happened to Luke, his sister-whore did not dare send her children into battle.

Their appearance caused loud cheers from their army and cries of horror from their enemy – he glanced sideways, surprised to see that his brother was holding back, hoping that he would attack first.

He was afraid, he thought with a sneer, recognising that he would show him what true courage was.

Who was more deserving of being king.

Vhagar and Meleys collided in the air, grabbing each other's hind legs with their claws, causing both beasts to spin around, and he had to hold the ropes tightly in his hands to keep from falling.

"– DRAKARYS! –" He shouted, also hearing Rhaenys voice from afar, pillars of fire erupted from the throats of their dragons making the temperature around them unbearably hot.

He tried to steer Vhagar so that the flames would not touch him, and after a moment he heard a second voice coming from the side.

"– DRAKARYS! –" His brother roared, and Sunfyre breathed fire straight at Meleys and her rider, making the beast let go of Vhagar with a loud screech, throwing itself at him in pursuit.

"– DARKARYS, MELEYS! –" He heard, and before Vhagar could make a full turn back he heard his brother's loud scream – as he turned over his shoulder he saw his silhouette sunk in fire, trying to cover his face with his hand.

Meleys claws sliced into Sunfyre's flesh, her fangs bit into his neck and let go, allowing both him and his rider to fall inertly to the ground.

Even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do.

He had warned him, and he had disobeyed.

If his hāedar had been with him, he would have made sure she stayed away until Meleys was weakened, so as not to endanger her.

But his brother?

He smiled.

"– angōs, Vhagar –" He called out, and his dragoness opened her maw wide and roared, as if remembering her great battles of Old Valyria centuries ago, pushing against the fleeing Meleys like a great mountain.

You won't escape me, you old whore.

He thought and blinked, seeing surprised that Meleys had turned back suddenly, spotting flames at the end of her throat.

Fuck.

He forced Vhagar to change course and shield them with her body, making the biggest wave of fire pass them by – he heard her squeal in pain as Meleys' claws slammed into her stomach again, tugging hard, creating wounds from which her hot blood flowed.

Vhagar needed no more of his commands – his dragoness was so enraged that she threw herself at Meleys, finally sinking her fangs into her throat, tearing her head from the rest of her body.

He watched with satisfaction, panting heavily, as the rest of her body, along with Rhaenys, fell downwards, finally hitting the ground, bursting into flames, their army, led by Criston Cole and his uncle, surged forward with a roar of joy for their victory.

His victory.

When it was all over, he flew to where he believed Sunfyre and his rider had fallen – indeed, he could see from above the soldiers around the body and the golden dragon writhing in pain, trying to reach its rider.

Had he survived or not?

He landed in the distance, walking unhurriedly towards the panicked physicians and servants surrounding Aegon, feeling powerful, invincible, proud, content.

He finally stood over them and hummed with satisfaction, seeing the state his brother's body was in – he was breathing, however, most of his skin was burnt, the only things coming from his mouth were moans and grunts.

"– it is a miracle, Your Highness – Sunfyre took the entire fall on himself, he saved our King's life –" One of the men said.

"– your brave King moved into battle with you and was severely wounded – you are to take proper care of him and relieve his pain –" He announced, and the soldiers around him nodded.

"Of course, Your Highness."

He sighed quietly, looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, trying to hold back a smirk of satisfaction.

The gods had heard his prayers.

His brother would be unable to hold his function, and he would finally take his rightful place.

He will rule the Kingdom in his name.

He will win this fucking war.

He will marry her.

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heartlilith · 1 year ago

Text

Difficult Placements in the Natal Chart

*Difficult: defined as "not easy; needing effort or skill to do or to understand"

I'm going to be discussing what placements I believe are more difficult to have in a natal chart. I just want to emphasize that this is my opinion (Tamra Judge voice) . Let's remember that all placements have their pros and cons, you are not defined by a few unfavorable placements. Of course, aspects and orbs matter... Chiron with 3 squares to your personal planets will be more difficult to handle than if you had Chiron trine Sun and Venus, for example.

One last thing: Difficult placements can be the ones with the most value. They teach you things, make you stronger, and they can make you an inspiration to people dealing with similar situations. Difficult placements have their positives too, which we will discuss.

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Sun conjunct Chiron: These natives go through a lot of pain, physically and emotionally. They go through many trials and have to learn how to heal again and again. I feel like the universe puts them through a lot so that one day they can help others, which is nice but damn. This aspect can easily make someone slip into addiction, depression, and bitterness if the energy isn't channeled correctly. These people are prone to psychic attacks that lead to chronic illness, specifically migraines.

Positives: Can become a healer, can help other people through their problems, can become an inspiration, selfless character.

Sun square/opposite Neptune: These natives struggle when it comes to their fragile ego. They are deeply sensitive and feel things intensely. They absorb energies meaning if they're around negative people, they themselves will become negative as well. It's so important for these people to be surrounded by positive and successful individuals. Sun square/opposite Neptune is also easily manipulated and taken advantage of since they tend to see the world through rose-colored glasses. Throughout life, this placement can make an individual feel unworthy and inferior which can lead to a victim mentality that's hard to break. Watch out for escapist behavior because these people are prone to addiction.

Positives: These people are very psychic and should work on their spiritual abilities. Becoming religious or spiritual can be very beneficial for them. They have the most impressive imagination and are super creative.

Capricorn Moon: I've noticed that people with Capricorn as their moon sign have difficulties with being vulnerable and asking for help. They are the people that hold their family and friends together - they are the strong one. Oftentimes, they become responsible too early in life, which probably cut their childhood short if they had one at all. Their sense of responsibility is their strength but its also a weakness; they don't want to be thought of as "weak" or "needy" so they hold their feelings in. Like Pisces, when their emotions come on strong they need an escape, Capricorns rely on work and their sense of duty. They are prone to becoming workaholics and will ignore painful situations by working all the time.

Positives: Likely to become successful career-wise, very driven and ambitious, people trust them, they make great friends because you can rely on these people.

Aquarius Moon: Similar to Capricorn, Aquarius Moons struggle with their emotions and how to express them. Their emotions might not even be felt in some cases. They look at things intellectually and in a detached way; they think "Should I be sad about this?" or "Am I supposed to be angry?". Growing up, they probably didn't have someone that they could emotionally confide in or even worse, they could've been punished for showing their emotions. I've noticed a lot of Aquarius Moons have a detached sense of family, they could've been adopted or they just feel "different", they could even look at themselves as the black sheep.

Positives: Can come up with creative solutions to problems, a great friend, nonjudgemental and open minded when it comes to others and their life experiences.

Moon square Pluto: This placement could've been the victim of abuse, especially from their mother. Their mothers could have struggled with mental illness and unfortunately these natives could've been the scapegoat and received the backend. Their mothers could be careless one second and the next they could become obsessive; the obsessiveness usually shows when the native leaves home and creates space between them. This leads to distrust in people, women especially. Moon square Pluto people cling onto any sense of control because they grew up in utter chaos. Unfortunately, these people can deem self destructiveness as "normal" since it was what they knew throughout their whole childhood.

Positives: If these people conquer the negative traits brought on by this aspect, they could become great psychiatrists or therapists. These people are devoted and loyal.

Moon square Saturn: This placement could've struggled with feeling unsafe in childhood; like they couldn't count on their parents. Their mothers were less affectionate than normal and they didn't receive the comfort that they needed, which leads them to being uncomfortable with affection in adulthood. They probably went through some tough changes in childhood which is why they loathe change as an adult. This placement could've felt like they had to parent their parent, specifically their mother. And their mothers could've vented to them about problems that they had no business hearing, cutting their childhood short. Their mothers could go to them for advice a lot of times. They could've felt like a burden growing up, usually an emotional burden but more likely a financial burden.

Positives: Strives to become successful, these people are independent and self sufficient.

Virgo Venus: Virgo Venus isn't too bad but can make a native struggle with self esteem issues. I put this on my list because these people attract lovers that need fixing. Venus in Virgo love to fix people and make them "better". The people they're trying to fix could be toxic and destructive; the "bad boys/girls". But having their partner in focus and ignoring their own needs makes them resentful after awhile. I've noticed this placement attracts creeps and stalkers as well because they have a vibe of innocence and purity. In love, they can grow to be very demanding and make their partners feel inadequate in the process. They also get the ick quite easily, meaning its easy to turn them off.

Positives: Is reliable in love, a lady in the streets freak in the sheets type, definitely someone you want to bring home to your family, will take care of you.

Venus in the 8th house: Venus in the 8th house natives tend to be possessive and jealous in love. It's not that they view their partners as property (they can but this placement alone doesn't indicate that imo), they are just extremely loyal and expect their partner to be as well. From my experience, Venus in the 8th house people are ready to give it all up for someone they love. They want to merge and become one with their partner. Their intensity comes from a good place but once a relationships ends, it can be very very painful for them. Love and relationships trigger transformations for these people and sometimes triggers transformations in their partners. They come out of relationships a stronger and better version of themselves but this is usually achieved through heartache. This placement also has a real fear of abandonment and will stay in toxic relationships for this reason.

Positives: Loyal and devoted in love, is a ride or die person. They are very alluring and magnetic. Not easily forgotten.

Venus in the 12th house: I believe these natives are too good for the world. I say this because, like 8th house Venus, they are ready to give it all up for love. Venus in the 12th house is self sacrificial to a fault, oftentimes neglecting themselves in relationships. Love can bring subconscious pain to the forefront, attracting lovers that make them face hidden problems they hold within themselves. Venus being in the house of the hidden, it's not uncommon for these individuals to be the "other woman/man" or be in secret relationships for whatever reason. They can be easily manipulated and taken advantage of since they're hopeless romantics. This can lead to them having to regulate how much love they have for someone; they'll hold back their feelings and needs in fear of being naive and walked on.

Positives: They love people genuinely and whole heartedly, they see the best in their partners, they form deep connections in love.

Venus square/opposite Saturn: These natives may have grown up in an environment that lacked physical affection. This creates a person that is uncomfortable in love and becomes very regulated with how they express their emotions. They may be inherently insecure when they're young which creates doubt around being loved; they're prone to thoughts like "why would anyone love me?" which then creates trust issues. These people also struggle with self-love, they have feelings of inadequacy and compare themselves to others a lot. Since they have low self esteem, they often attract partners that treat them badly and the worst part is they think they deserve it. These people aren't fans of PDA or physical touch and often express love through gift giving or acts of service.

Positives: Self sufficient, usually has a "glow up" later in life, once this placement is conquered (could be the second half of life) they are unstoppable and have so much love for themselves.

Mars in 4th, 8th, 12th house: Mars doesn't feel very comfortable in water houses, this is especially true if the native has a lot of squares and oppositions to their Mars or water house lord. Mars ignites the emotional watery nature of the houses which can lead to sudden outbursts. Mars in the 4th house natives could have dealt with a prominent mother who dominated the household (4th house). This could indicate that a father figure was absent or estranged. Either that, or his role was weak compared to the mothers. Mars in the 4th house could also signify an aggressive mother and hostile home environment. Mars in the 8th house natives experience extreme emotions a lot of the time, this can include anger, obsession, and jealousy. Since Mars is in the 8th house of transformations, you can expect these people to go through many many painful changes in their life because Mars here speeds things up. These natives are prone to accidents involving vehicles, tools, gym equipment, etc. so watch out for transits! Mars in the 12th house could suppress their martian traits; sexuality, motivation and anger... or it could be the opposite, they could become addicted to sex and have a wicked temper, depending on the sign and aspects. Trauma related to sexuality and the inability to stick up for oneself could be prevalent here as well, or they could be downright violent towards others. These people can either lack motivation or become extremely restless. They also probably have crazy vivid dreams and aggressive hidden enemies.

Side Note: Mars in water houses can either be horrible or not so bad, it really depends on the rest of the chart. I included this because the negatives can be extreme.

Mars square/opposite Pluto: These natives usually had a childhood filled with violence and witnessed a lot of strong emotional outbursts. This makes the native think that reacting aggressively or even violently is normal. They could've been abused by their peers, siblings or parents. As they grow up, physical violence, fights, and anger issues could arise. They can get offended really easily and people just assume they're picking fights. Has a lot of physical energy that can manifest as aggression.

Positives: If they channel their energy correctly, they could become talented athletes. Has enough energy to meet their goals and then some.

Saturn in the 1st house: These people have had it hard since childhood. These natives struggle to be comfortable within themselves due to being surrounded by critical people and even being bullied growing up. The judgmental voices they grew up listening to becomes the voice within. They could struggle with body dysmorphia and have deep rooted insecurities. They are confused within themselves and their insecurity could make them miss a lot of great opportunities.

Positives: These people often have a deep sense of responsibility and can be very successful in their career, depending on the rest of the chart.

Saturn in the 7th house: Saturn, the planet of restriction and blockages, sitting on the 7th house of partnerships can make a native go through a lot of trial and error when it comes to one on one relationships. These people could be shy and fear intimacy due to their self esteem especially when they're young. Since Saturn is very karmic in nature, these people could attract toxic relationships or partners that don't fit well with them in order to learn necessary lessons. These people should be careful of going into business with people and also should be careful of divorce settlements (sign that prenup!)

Positives: After Saturn return, these natives will finally meet an adequate partner and since the universe put them through trial and error, they'll be ready for it. Has meaningful life long friendships.

Chiron opposite ASC/Chiron in the 7th house: These peoples' lessons come in the form of lovers. Betrayal, deceit, heartbreak, and infidelity can make their way into these natives lives. It doesn't have to be those themes although it can be. Depending on the sign of your 7th house, those are the themes that'll teach you the lessons and open up old wounds. For example: Leo in the 7th house (Aquarius rising) you may attract and deal with partners who, worst case scenario, are selfish, egotistical, and want everything to revolve around them. This could trigger your childhood in which your parents fought with each other and forgot about you in the process. Another example is Aries descendent (Libra rising) you may deal with partners who are aggressive, dominating, and maybe even violent. This could trigger old wounds from childhood: maybe you lived in a home where domestic violence was prevalent. You get the idea.

Positives: You're not doomed in love by the way, it's just 7th house signs and their themes that will show up throughout your life. The examples I used were pretty extreme to get the point across. The positive here is that most of the time, the themes are much more discreet. For the 7th house Chiron in Leo example I used, it could be that your partner is self centered and you recognize and treat this. Could be an easy lesson learned (well it better be because if not it's gonna keep showing up).

Chiron in the 11th house: Chiron in the 11th house is a placement I personally have using Placidus. These natives never feel like they fit in, they feel like they're looked at as the outcast, like they don't belong. This is usually the consequences of being bullied as a child and made to feel less than. These people could go through a hard time in life where they have no friends and feel like they have no one to turn to. Loneliness could be a prominent theme in their lives especially when they're young. Chiron in the 11th house would rather have one on one connections than be part of a friend group.

Positives: Could be an advocate for people sharing similar experiences, knows how to be a good friend, values friendships and knows how to be alone.

Chiron conjunct Pluto: I have this one! I've noticed that certain painful experiences; death, heartache, betrayal, rejection affect me SO much. Growing up my mom would just brush these things off and say that they're a part of life. But to me, these things would happen and I would grow to fear them immensely. For example; my grandmother who I was super close to passed away when I was 17 and ever since then I've been terrified of my parents dying. Painful experiences really change people with this aspect, for better or for worse.

Positives: These people are forced to confront their deepest fears which in turn makes them stronger. They have the power to transform themselves after traumatic events.

Lilith in the 1st house: Lilith is the exact opposite of what "women should be" which rubs people, men specifically, the wrong way. It also rubs older generations the wrong way or whoever believes in traditional gender roles. Here in the 1st house, these natives embody Lilith which, you guessed it, rubs people the wrong way. They usually have trauma related to males trying to put them down or put them in their place, even as a child. Growing up, adult women could talk about them negatively as well. Everywhere they go, there's people that look at them sideways; they're either disgusted or intrigued. They often experience people hating them for "no reason". The real reason for this reaction is because they make people feel threatened just by being. They were also sexualized from a young age and could've had older people, mostly men, commenting on their bodies.

Positives: Extremely magnetic and alluring, blessed with beauty, intense aura and presence, always gets what they want.

Lilith in the 10th house: Similar to Lilith in the 1st house, these natives have a tendency to set people off just by being themselves. This creates a lot of disturbance in the workplace; people either love them or hate them but either way their reaction to them is extreme. Male authority can either sexualize them or belittle them making the workplace uncomfortable. Lilith being Lilith here, they may use this power to their advantage and climb the ranks so to speak. Rumors about them swirl around the workplace because people are just obsessed.

Positives: Strong people, very attractive, can use their good looks to their advantage, will grow to be a boss.

18° in Personal Planets/1st house/6th house/8th house: 18° is the shadow side of Virgo. Having this degree could indicate serious illness, tragedy, and critical misfortunes playing a role in your life. This doesn't have to be the native themselves experiencing these things, but it will affect them whether that be through family, a partner, friendships, etc.

Positives: I feel like this could be true but not always so if you have this degree anywhere you're most likely safe. But then again you might not be. Good luck. :)

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I'm definitely forgetting a bajillion placements but it's all so negative so I'm going to end here. I'm not trying to be negative I'm just shining a light on certain placements because they're fucking hard to deal with!!!

To the people that say no placement is bad or negative: how does it feel to have rainbows and sunshine shooting out of your fucking ass?! Be forreal.

Life is hard, we all know that. How could we appreciate the fortunes if we didn't have misfortunes? For all the negative there will be positive too. Here's to all of us and our shitty fucking placements 🎉

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