#but NEVER creating resentment and only more admiration…

[mochiri]

Makoto and Sousuke's Identity outside of Haru and Rin at the end of Free!

I've seen some people say they're a bit reluctant to finish the Final Stroke because Makoto becomes sidelined. Though, I did want to point out that Makoto's developed career ambitions at the end of the Final Stroke ends up being a beautiful closure to his insecurities and worries that actually start in High Speed! Starting Days.

Makoto, why do you swim?

Makoto in Starting Days, has his entire world turned upside down because he realizes his entire reason for swimming is because of Haru. But in the Final Stroke, he evolves his meaning of swimming into something that's very Makoto. He develops his own individual identity with swimming by being a coach for both children and for swimmers on the global level. Instead of swimming just for Haru and his friends, Makoto evolves his relationship to swimming to something he identifies better with. Which is connections with people and the ability to support them emotionally, physically, and mentally.

In relation (because Makoto and Sousuke are direct parallel characters as the best friends of RinHaru), Sousuke's own motivations for swimming is related to Rin (I don't want to say he directly swims because of Rin like Makoto does for Haru). But Rin is Sousuke's motivation enough to overwork his entire body, transfer schools, sacrifice himself to just swim one last race with Rin... Because Rin's motivation is friends and Sousuke doesn't really understand that at first as someone who always thought you're alone in the water.

But at Sousuke's "end" he actually learns to form connections OUTSIDE of Rin. Because sousuke throughout his entire arc tries to learn about what friendship means to him and how that can develop you as a person.

when he does rehab with Nao and Makoto they help him specialize in other strokes, remind him not to overwork his body, refine his swimming skills and overall he became a better swimmer through the connections he made and not alone like he always thought. Sousuke learning the power of friendship through Momo, Nitori, Makoto, Nao + the others in Tokyo.

So... Summarizing it all up:

Makoto whose original motivations to swim is Haru, develops an identity to swimming outside of Haru. And then makes it his own by adding his caring and nurturing personality through coaching.

Sousuke, whose original ambitions to swimming is individuality, competitiveness, and Rin, develops a relationship to swimming through connections and friends outside of Rin.

Makoto uses swimming to solidify and create bonds while Sousuke’s is the opposite where he realizes bonds are what can solidify his swimming.

Here's other related analysis about these swimming boys i care too much about:

Makoto and Sousuke as parallel characters

How Makoto uses backstroke to solidify bonds

Free! color theory (contains another soumako parallel lolol)

[bouquetface]

SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS 2

Accuracy influenced by entire natal chart. This is NOT a person read. Looking at only aspect or placement will only give general information.

Lilith conjunct ASC:

Strong attraction. A forbidden kind of attraction. Could be due to many reasons. Possible examples:

One is significantly older, One is already in a relationship at the time of meeting, One could be a coworker or person in authority.

Chiron conjunct ASC:

Chiron person could be triggered by ASC person. Due to their lifestyle, attitude or approach to life.

For EX, let’s say this occurs in the sign of gemini. This sign is typically fast, curious and communicative. The chiron person may have grown up misunderstood their entire lives. They struggle to communicate and/or be understood effectively. The ASC gemini person likely has a fast thinking, fast moving way of life. They’re curious, bore easily and move onto the next topic fast. If the ASC gemini person isn’t willing to slow down, they risk hurting chiron. As chiron may not feel they mix well with ASC person’s lifestyle.

Chiron conjunct Venus:

An amazing placement especially if the man is venus. Venus’s natural way of expressing love can heal chiron.

I’ve seen this happen in the sign of Capricorn. In past relationships, chiron questioned whether they were enough. Their ex critiqued them and negatively compared them to other women.

In their marriage with a Venus Cap, they feel absolutely appreciated and admired.

Sun conjunct Venus:

The couple above also has this aspect. The woman is a Cap sun, she naturally has the traits this Venus Cap desires in a wife. The Venus Cap often talks highly about her. He tells her and others he can’t believe she even exists because she is his dream girl. He has said before he’s shocked someone so perfect would be with him. This aspect can be a good ego boost for the Venus person.

Venus conjunct Jupiter:

Really positive. When these two are together there is an abundance of love and joy. A good marriage/long term connection indicator. It’s hard to resist each other because of the good times/feelings you have when together.

The only downside, these two may overindulge too much when together. Leading to enabling behaviour. Possibly overspending and overdoing.

So while it can be good, 2 times I’ve seen this as Jupiter feeling drained in the end. They poured so much into Venus to keep them happy but Venus never felt satisfied/always desired more. The other 1 time I’ve known a couple with this aspect, it resulted in marriage. I believe this aspect may work better when Jupiter is the man & Venus is the woman.

Chiron conjunct Chiron:

This can manifest as bonding over similarities in your past struggles. However, if both are not in a matured stage of life, they may trigger each other. Bringing out the worst behaviours in each other.

Moon Square Moon:

This could create tension that leads to passion. Scorpio and fire sign venus may enjoy this aspect in their relationships. However, it may lead to emotional pain. Both could struggle to understand & properly care for the other.

Aries Moon Square Cancer Moon:

This is particularly difficult from what I’ve seen. The aries moon felt the cancer moon is “weak” and “overly sensitive”. The aries moon expresses passion in a more aggressive & teasing manner. The cancer moon, especially if they don’t have fire sign placements, could be hurt by this. They don’t understand and/or like the way aries moon’s expresses themselves.

COMPOSITE CHART OBSERVATIONS:

MC conjunct Uranus: To outsiders, the relationship feels unstable. The relationship may have on and off stages.

Mars in 12th. Generally, this isn’t a good placement. Indicates hidden resentment. One person likely does not fully understand the reason for the other’s anger/frustration.

- I’ve seen this manifest as a woman who many bad experiences with men in the past. This made her untrusting of her boyfriend. She feels past experiences made her take some frustrations out on her boyfriend. He did not fully understand her angry outbursts since he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Moon in 12th. A positive manifestation is knowing what the other needs subconsciously. You are in tune with each other’s feelings on a deeper level.

A negative manifestation is one person’s emotional needs are not being met. For this reason, they are unable to feel comfortable and properly loved.

2nd house ruler in 12th. In my opinion, this is the worst to have. This suggests one’s ability to feel secure is lost. Trust does not come easy. Communication needs to be strong to overcome this placement.

12th H Libra

12th can reveal what may potentially break the couple up or be a hidden problem in the relationship. By hidden I mean issues that are repressed or a sub conscious issue.

In the sign of Libra, inability to compromise, inability to peacefully resolve problems and inability to be make decisions together could be a problem.

Venus in 12th H

The couple may struggle with emotional intimacy. The physical is easy and enjoyable but emotionally opening up is not.

This can indicate a relationship where for some reason the couple hides their love when in front of people. And/Or they hide their true feelings from each other.

This is a tricky placement. While the two are interested in one another, creating a harmonious connection is not easy. Peace is disrupted. The couple can be chaotic.

Jupiter in 12th H

This is actually positive in my experience. The couple has luck on their side to solve any issues. However, luck may not be enough to save the connection if it turns sour. Yet, there will be many opportunities to resolve their problems. The two have a genuine desire to fight for one another. The two can understand each other on an intuitive level. You just get each other.

Example: This is actually my friend’s observation. She observed in the composite of her parents, Jupiter and Venus are in conjunction in 12th H. She told me her parents have had a lot of struggles but remain happily together. There is an abundance of love.

Her mom once told her, her and her dad were literally made for one another. No matter what problems arises only the two of them will be able to help one another. No one else will be able to understand them.

Some astrologers say Venus is the wife and Jupiter is the husband so when conjunct in composite, it can be that saving grace placement.

Sun in First House

The relationship can be the main focus of your life. This can be good or bad. It’s not healthy to cut off your own personal life to cater to one person. But if you can maintain your own identities, this should be a good placement.

I’ve noticed when this is in composite the couple can become known for the relationship. Especially, if Sun is the 10th H ruler and/or if the 10th H has many planets.

Mars in First House

There can be a lot of energy in this relationship. Arguments are bound to happen in any relationship but for this one in particular there will be many. If you are two people who are good at resolving issues and kind of enjoy a more chaotic dynamic, this can work out well.

However, if you don’t like your peace disrupted and fights make you uneasy, this is not a good indicator for a relationship.

You may become known for being “that couple”. Good or bad. Depending on whether people find out about your fights.

Mercury in First House

You don’t fear judgement when together. You can talk about anything and everything. This is a good indicator. A couple that never runs out of things to talk about. It isn’t necessarily a romantic or sexual indicator. So if not supported by other placements in the chart, this can be a relationship where the spark dies out quickly. Better off as friends kind of relationship.

Uranus & Neptune in 4th H

This relationship has a rocky foundation. You may love the idea of what can be more than what is happening. Fantasizing about how you’ll become a better couple when in reality it’s not going so well.

This can be an on and off connection. Whether you are together and committed to one another is not always clear.

However, the positive manifestation is you both value freedom. You have mutual respect for one another. You may have a non traditional start to the connection. The two may constantly move around. You may have to leave home throughout your lives. Not necessarily negative it could be possibly due to work.

[stolenres-if]

DEMO TBA (EDITING)

Genres: superhero, dark, fame

CW: violence, explicit language and themes, dark themes, immoral behavior and situations

After a villain almost decimated the world as you know it, you and four other people were chosen by the hands of fate to gain powerful abilities and become a member of Legion, humanity's only hope.

Because of that, you became celebrities in your own right. Red carpets, photoshoots, commercials for energy drinks and more. After a while it felt like the villain would never return and you'd be stuck being a celebrity for powers you don't even use.

Until the villain does return.

And you win.

Unfortunately, you paid the ultimate price: you died and became a martyr.

Or so...everyone thought.

Six years later, you wake up in the same spot you were in with no memory of the last near decade of your life. While only a night has gone by for you, for everyone else? A lifetime.

Everyone has moved on with their lives. The friends you considered family barely speak to each other, all of them haunted by everything that came after the fight. You have no recollection of anything…except something inside you knows your reappearance was no ordinary coincidence.

Especially when you begin to hear a voice in your head, commanding you, telling you to destroy everything in your path….

Stolen Resurrection is 18+ gritty IF that's a mixture of fame and super heroism. You are a member of the elite Legion, believed to be dead for half a decade until you wake up to a changed world six years later.

Customize your MC from personality, appearance, gender identity and their persona. Do they embrace the celebrity life or reject it? Do they love their position as someone forced to sacrifice their life for the good of the world or do they resent it?

Curate whether your MC will move on or stay stuck in the past. Choose how to approach every situation and every person from your past and present life.

Navigate a world in which you are famed for being a chosen one and choose how you approach that.

Wake up six years after people believing you dead. Deal with the aftermath of grief and loss you left in your wake.

Romance ROs with different personalities and different feelings/thoughts towards your 'resurrection' and everything else.

Character-driven narrative with an emphasis on the choices you make and the relationships you build.

Prepare and train for a villain who may or may not be using you as their puppet.

Die. And then come back to life.

THE EX FIANCÉ // THE SELLOUT: CATH HARRISON [M/F][RO]

Your ex and old Legion member, Cath has become the most prominent and beloved figure in New America. Once kind, charismatic, and a charmer, Cath is now the stoic poster child for the company that made Legion. So much so, that your old friends call them a sellout. Cal was proposing to you when everything went to hell all those years ago. When you return, you find them remarried. Cath has moved on...or have they?

THE OLD FRIEND // THE STRANGER: REA SANTOS [F][RO]

Once your closest friend and fellow Legion member, Rea has grown cold over the years, haunted by that fateful night. Even though she still has love for the team, she does her best to rebel as much as possible as revenge for the attack that took a life she can never get back. While she understands your disappearance and subsequent reappearance is not your fault, she can't help but blame you for not being around. Rea is a stranger to you now and whatever friendship you two had is successfully dead.

THE FORMER FAN // THE PRO: JAMES SATO [M][RO]

James, bright and wide-eyed, was once your biggest fan, gloating that he was going to apply to NAG Labs because of you. He also had a childish admiration for you that you found endearing at best and a nuisance at worse. Now, years later, James is somehow as old as you, has long moved on past his fan phase, and is the new head of the division that created you. Oddly enough, it feels weird without James Sato not following you around like a lost puppy. Have the roles reversed?

THE EX FLAME // THE HERMIT: NICO/NAOMI CARTER [M/F][RO]

Once the sunshine and comedic relief of the team, N has disappeared, becoming a shell of their former self. They do nothing else but stay in the bar, drinking their sorrows away. They are considered hostile and want nothing to do with the team or the Company since your death. N may have had feelings for you in the past, but you're not too sure. It's not as if you could ever pursue that years ago. Now? Well, it seems like it's all too late.

OTHER CHARACTERS

??? -- your hear them in your head. Is this the person who has trapped you all this time?

Ray Trent (m) -- your old teammate and close friend. No one speaks of Ray, and you wonder where's he gone and what he's been through that makes him such a sore topic for everyone.

Logan Kane (m) -- the new head of NAG and currently running for president of New America. The son of the now dead head that you were once close to. Logan doesn't trust you. Your reappearance has set him on edge.

Hello, if you'd like to know what happened and why this blog was deleted before. You can check here! Reblogs and everything else is appreciated! Thank you :)

[vanishingtrainwreck]

I completely understand why they chose to age up Izzy Hands in “Our Flag Means Death”. In fact, basically all the characters are aged up from their more likely historical ages- pirates didn’t have particularly long live spans. Izzy Hands is my favorite ofmd character and the direction they took with him requires his to be this angry, pathetic, masochistic, old man. (Plus it doesn’t hurt that the actor is both fantastic and hot.)

However, I can’t help but imagine a late adolescence 16-19 year old Izzy.

An Izzy, who like Stede, had always admired Blackbeard and wanted to be like him, but who was capable of violence because he had been forced into it to survive.

An Izzy who Edward took in because he saw himself in this boy and saw him as someone he can take in and mold as a mini version of himself, only as this goes on, for Ed to realize that doesn’t even like himself so the parts he liked about Izzy were the parts that uniquely belong to Izzy. Parts that Ed weeded out, only to resent the outcome at how similar the two of them had become.

An Izzy who Stede can’t bring himself to be mad at, because that’s just a child, only a few years older than his eldest. And an Izzy who takes this sympathy and care as condescending and reacts aggressively in order to prove himself.

I think it could pose a big question to Ed’s morality that he would be willing to let this child, not only on his ship, but as his right-hand man. Even if Izzy was in a previously violent situation, Ed is just introducing him to another one.  

I just think it could be interesting to have this masochist worship, but without any of the definite romance. (Maybe Izzy could still have feelings for Ed, because he’s not exactly a father figure, but their relationship is far from professional so he’s not sure what it is and he develops these complex romantic feelings in the confusion. This has the added benefit where Izzy is longing for an affection that will never be reciprocated in any form. Ed trying to ignore the fact that he is taking advantage of the kid’s feelings anytime he has him do something. Izzy feeling like Stede taking Ed from him, even though ed was never his in the first place and never could be. Idk, a lot of these are kinda already done in the show, but I do think the age difference would inherently change the way it’s done. I do actually think it’s more tragic that in the show there is nothing inherent about Izzy that makes Ed unable to love him the way he should, he just… doesn’t.)

I think in general, I would’ve liked to see a teen character in the show, apart of the crew. I would’ve especially liked to see the dynamics it would’ve created with Ed and Stede. The moral dilemma of allowing a child in a violent environment when they no doubt were already in one prior. Most pirates were teenagers and young people in their twenties, so it seems fitting to me. Obviously though, I love the direction they when with Izzy. He’s such a unique, nuance character and I love him sm

[zebra-rigel]

roleswap au with transmigrator!mobei-jun

I literally can't stop thinking about the one chapter in Feynite's Scum Villian AUs (linked at the bottom of this post) where mobei-jun and luo binghe are the transmigrators. Not Only that but Luo Binghe is presumably. the Author of Proud Immortal Hero's Way.

The story is Moshang with implied bingqiu : featuring modern Mo Bei (a dork ass gaming nerd) who dies by electrocution and transmigrates into the novel he has an abusive relationship with. And because life hates him, he becomes the doomed and shallow scum villian, the ice demon Mobei-jun.

A typical human-hating demon,[. . .]why would Shang Qinghua want to exact revenge on Mobei-Jun? Well, probably because the demon lord tried to kill him and nearly got him thrown out of Cang Qiong sect and oh, yes, abused him for years.

Obviously the way to not die in the not-so-distant future by the protagonist's hands, is by hugging the thighs of (*coughs* spoiling) a teenage Shang Qinghua. If it also unexpectedly becomes the first basic human(ha!) consideration Shang Qinghua encounters (because he never got any in the original webnovel) well, Mo Bei-jun will just live with that! (visualize mobei jun taking a moment to glare menacingly in the general direction of Earth (in the hope of radiating some potent bad vibees towards Heavenly Sky Pillar))

[note to admit that I could be misremembering details, because my true interest(and hyperfixation) lies in like: what was actually going on in the 'original webnovel' of Proud Immortal Hero's Way, because Luo Binghe as Heavenly Sky Pillar seems to be a more unreliable narrator than SQQ himself]

Highlights of this AU are:

1. Mo Bei mentioning that he couldn't understand why the protag!Shang Qinghua had tried to salvage a relationship with the original Mobei-Jun for so long. (the answer should be toxic yaoi!) I can't just- like, this is obviously a version of aeroplane!SQH with all his admiration and hopeless crushing(like in SVSSS) but the dynamics!! 2. Speculating on what will Happen after their version of the Endless Abyss? which is

the moment when Mobei-Jun tried to expose his ‘demon connections’ to the rest of Cang Qiong sect, nearly got him killed, and earned his eternal hatred.

All I can imagine now is Mobei-jun acccidentally triggering said event, staying the hell away from Cang Qiong sect but eventually being tracked down by a resentful, powerful Shang Qinghua who has all but conquered the known world, faster and quicker than he did in the original. He's even given himself a title now! Royal Advisor! Royal Advisor to what, Qinghua, everyone knows you won't answer to an Emperor, let alone a King!

When Shang Qinghua lays it all at his feet, the only one surprised is Mobei-jun. 3.The matter of Luo Binghe (that i've created in my head) It's so fucking funny to me

Link to the chapter! Please read it and come back<3 it's so good! https://archiveofourown.org/works/17041973/chapters/42597041

[mymiraclealigner]

If you didn't know me like you do | Professor!Remus Lupin x reader

summary: Remus and his ex-student have gotten really close during the Christmas Break

tw: smut (+18), thigh riding, implicit legal age gap.

word count: 2,845

Grimmauld Place held a warm light at Christmas time. Everyone from the Order was gathered between the tall, wallpapered, rotted walls of the ancient house, filling it with tender laughs and chatter while exchanging presents and hot mulled wine.

This year, Y/n’s parents decided to spend the cold months of December and January in a tropical wonder, leaving her in the care of the famous Weasley family. They were lifelong friends of her parents and, even though she was a bit older than the twins and didn’t really spend time with them —besides at parties—, she got along with the ginger clan.

That's how the witch found herself beating Harry and Ron in exploding snap, pranking the old thief Mundungus with the twins, and having long and fun sleepovers with Ginny and Hermione some nights of the Christmas break. Professors were also around, and some were more approachable than others: Severus left pretty clear he didn’t want to be bothered, but Minerva was open to answering questions about the holiday assignments, and Hagrid had no problem advancing the topics he would teach after the break either.

There was also Remus, but he was something more than an academic figure. He was not only there willing to give Y/n book recommendations and suggest grammatical corrections in her final-year essays. He was also there lifting her spirit with bad jokes after Order reunions, asking her if she wanted more butterbeer with his eyes at the dinner table, and listening to her ramble about her dreams and aspirations late at night with a cold cup of tea in one of his hands —the other, barely grazing her pinky.

Remus and Y/n had created an inexplicable bond between them that had formed based on similar interests and sexual tension disguised as genuine concern for each other.

Each one had their problems: Remus was still affected by his deployment in Hogwarts, the transformations were tougher each month, and living again with his best friend was not as fun as he remembered: Sirius came back with a lot of tattoos, resentment towards Remus for believing the lies and an underlying sentiment of guilt for what happened to the Potters. Y/n was dealing with the stress of facing the OWLs and the working life, a brewing war that blinded her vision for the future and threatened her hopes of a normal life, and the imminent feeling of abandonment that her absent parents put in her chest.

They managed to find comfort in each other and they casually started spending more time together very quietly, very subtly. No one read Y/n's expressions like Remus, and no one felt Remus' words as Y/n did; so they started to have conversations in secluded places of the creaking house, where not even the portraits could listen.

Of course, those conversations were filled with listening ears and understanding nods, but also with thirsty lips and fidgety hands. It might have been difficult for the others to spot the magnetic chemistry between them, but it was crystal clear for anyone who would stop to analyze the shine in their eyes when they hung into each other's words.

The young witch had never felt a stronger knot create in her lower belly every time Remus brushed her hip to pass to the other side of the hall, or a hotter blush grow in her cheeks when he rolled up the sleeves of his dressing shirt to reveal strong scarred arms.

He was also down bad, even if he tried to hide it. He had managed to perfect the crossing legs method to hide his erection from his ex-student, and sometimes he couldn't correct the direction of his eyes, which always diverted to the curviness of her hips or the brown spot on her neck.

She secretly found his admiration for her body hilarious; even if he didn't make it obvious, she could see the delicate way he contemplated her moving arms and hair, and her moving lips the most. She loved to be appreciated with that devotion, she had never felt that before.

One cold night, after what Y/n perceived was a stressful Order meeting, they sat on the comfortable, almost broken sofa in front of the library's fireplace. The flames exuded a warmth that made the witch remove her woolen sweater and Remus was finding it hard not to succumb to his desire to caress her tanned collarbone.

The bitter green tea and thoughtful state of mind sparked a pessimist conversation that included Nietzsche quotations and laments about the world and the terrible situation witches and wizards of England were in with the shadow of the Dark Lord stalking the safety of people.

That obscure life beyond the comforting room seemed pointless to go through for a second. So many horrors and injustices were occurring around her in that moment, and Y/n's awareness immersed her imagination in despicable hypotheticals that involved her tortured body, and Remus' body too, who was sitting a few meters away from her.

"Sometimes I wish we weren't real," she sighed and propped her head on the back of the couch.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I wish we didn't exist, that we weren't known. That we weren't even born."

"I understand why you wouldn't want yourself to exist, I have had that feeling myself before, believe me. My question is more why you want to drag me with you to non-existence?"

Remus laughed a bit, he would always be surprised by her interesting thoughts. She had a way of seeing the world he couldn't grasp and that kept him on a fun, uneasy expectation.

Y/n was relieved to see that the werewolf had moved the conversation somewhere else, where she wouldn't have to think about the darkness of the world around them.

"Because I don't think there would be a you without me," Remus' eyebrows went up. "Don't give me that look! I-I expressed myself badly… forget it."

Y/n felt her face flush and her eyes water; the one time she decided to be philosophically flirty she messed it all up. She thought she should have just sewn her mouth shut.

"No, none of that. Try to express what you meant," Remus came dangerously close to her, increasing the heavy feeling that burnt the witch's skin.

The girl sat down straight touching his thigh with hers and, after a long sigh, she answered.

"I meant that you wouldn't be the person you are or have the thoughts you've had if you hadn't met me the way you do," Y/n was nervously picking at the skin around her thumb, avoiding Remus' stare.

"What do you think I'd be like?"

"Miserable," she joked. Remus chuckled. "I just think you wouldn't ask yourself certain things."

"Things like what?" Remus brought his shaking hand up to put behind her ear a piece of hair that had fallen in the side of her face.

Suddenly the temperature in the library went up, but it wasn't because the fire in front of them burned more intensely. The reality of an awful world truly disappeared from Y/n's thoughts completely; the warm spot in her chest was speaking louder than pain.

"Like…" the girl silenced herself for a second, and then took a big breath to mutter the bravest thing: "whether to kiss me and disobey every rational voice in your head, or bring more tea to calm yourself down and avoid that thought."

A maddening silence stilled everything in the room; the particles of dust, the creaking wood and Y/n’s breathing stopped in time.

Remus turned around to check that the silver tea set was still resting in the small, fancy desk next to the window; if he were to reach it, he would have to get up and break the intimate bubble the two of them had entered.

"Yeah, you are right, I do ask myself that a lot. The kettle is too far, though."

The nervous girl turned around slowly fearing the possibility of her understanding. Their minds were close in thought, and he had unconsciously moved close to the point where she could feel Remus' breath in her cheek, and see a sparkle in his eyes.

"So, no tea this time?"

"No, not tonight I think," he whispered with a serious expression.

Burying his scarred hand behind her ear and into her hair, he brought his nose to her. He ignored the screams of his reason telling him to get away, and teased her opened lips by rubbing noses; she thought that that is how it must feel to kiss a ghost.

The impatient little whine that fell from her mouth gave Remus the final push to press his lips onto hers. She started moving them slowly, trying to mask her desperation for him and all thoughts erased from the werewolf's mind. There was nothing more in the universe than the sweet taste of that girl's mouth. His tongue gracefully licked hers, producing a twitch of her hips and she imitated the movement of his mouth, just like he had demonstrated.

She was eager for more and Remus could smell it. It was driving him insane, but he wanted to leave up to her whether his hand was worthy of something more than the touch of her shiny hair. Just like she had just read his mind, she pulled herself closer to him, squeezing his arm to signal a need for physical contact. Remus placed his hand behind her shoulder, moving her body towards his direction; and without any warning or precaution, Y/n turned herself to him, sitting on one of his thighs.

She separated slightly from him. His hands were now holding her waist in place and they could feel each other's breath from how close they remained. A silent conversation of whether this was real or not started. Their eyes weren't discussing the actual actions, but the tangible desire behind them and the not-so-innocent intentions.

While trying to assimilate that they both wanted this, Y/n started to rub herself against his thigh, searching for a pleasure only he could give her, she was sure. Remus squeezed her sides, trying to avoid the inevitable, and hopeful that she would notice he was not worthy of such pleasure. He closed his eyes, repeating to himself that he should not be enjoying this, that this was just a dream.

"Look at me, please," Y/n said slightly out of breath, Remus' eyes remained shut. "Come on, don't you think I'm pretty?"

Of course he thought she was pretty, and smart, and fun, and so many other things. But this was wrong; it was wrong not only the fact that he doubled her age, but that she deserved someone more capable of giving her love and attention. He was emotionally unavailable to shower her with love, and he wasn't going to be the one breaking her heart.

"Remus, do you not want this?" her hips halted, and his eyes opened immediately, "because I understand if you just think I'm too immature and inexperienced, a-"

"Of course I want this" the words flew straight out of his heart skipping his reason, but he didn't regret what he said.

Y/n didn't waste more time and rushed to grab his face to feel his lips on hers. Remus tightened his grip on her hips and forced himself to forget anything outside the library. In that precise moment, there was only he and Y/n, and his mind shouldn't get distracted from anything else. Nothing was more important than her right then and there.

Now Remus' arms were the ones guiding the movement of her hips back and forth. She bunched the fabric that covered his shoulders in her hands, trying to hide the moans to express her pleasure; the seam in her jeans had found her spot perfectly and the rubbing against Remus' strong thigh was stimulating her just the right way. Sweat started to emanate from her frown and her eyebrows moved up involuntarily, her panting was creating in Remus a hot feeling in his chest and he wanted to feel her warm cunt closer to his leg.

"Take off the jeans," her hands flew instantly to the button on the front, and Remus helped her take one leg out of her jeans so she wouldn't completely fall off his lap.

Remus appreciated how her simple light gray underwear clad to her hips. He followed the sewn end of the fabric with his fingers, from where her legs met her hip, through the middle of her buttocks, until her center. She was wet and the gray of her panties evidenced it blatantly. The werewolf rubbed his fingers on the wet spot before the witch forced herself to sit right on top of the evident bulge in his pants.

The girl started moving slowly again trying to stroke his cock with her middle effectively. Remus stiffened as a reaction to the pleasure he was receiving and that he craved for a very long time before. He was rock hard underneath her, and she took that as an advantage to rock herself against him with more intensity, making it difficult for the two of them to stay quiet.

Remus trespassed the fabric of her underwear and firmly grabbed her bottoms to get some control. The now panting girl searched Remus' lips to comfort herself because there was something forming in her stomach and in her chest stronger than anything she had felt before.

Yes, of course Y/n had touched herself before, in Grimmauld Place it had been difficult to find alone time, but the shower was always a good place of peace where she could visualize her previous DADA professor turning her over a desk and taking a firm hold of her hips. However, she had never really had an orgasm, she usually stopped when it'd get too good because her hands would start shaking and her legs would get some funny, unbearable ticklish feeling.

Her core started getting wetter and wetter and Remus couldn't hide his grunts; he imagined being inside her and his cock twitched embarrassingly.

He lowered his kisses to her chin, then her jaw leaving a sweet purple mark close to her ear. He continued going down, taking more time in that precious mole on her neck, until reaching the swell of her chest. He removed a hand from her moving bottoms and brought it up, with the intention of lowering the hem of her v-neck top.

When Remus started kissing and licking her nipples, Y/n held to his head and cuddled herself against him moving more desperately on him.

She was also imagining having him inside of her, close to his skin, without clothes between their bodies. She wondered what his chest looked like; maybe it was as scarred as his face, or maybe it was full of tattoos like Sirius'. What she knew with certainty was that it was hairy since some hair always peeked from the top of his shirt, and that it was very strong from the way he held her to him.

The werewolf's hips rose softly, following the girl's hip movements with a mouthful of her breast. Both him and her weren't containing their sights of pleasure and were just as close to climax.

Y/n grabbed a handful of Remus's slicked back hair to announce she couldn't bear much more of the pleasure, and he responded by bringing one hand to her hair to pull her close to his face. The closeness permitted them to look into each other's mouths with tired pants and a feral urge to crash lips.

"R-Rem, I think I-I," the witch could barely mutter a word, the divine sensation in her center started crawling up her back and arms, making them weak and wobbly as her voice.

"I know, love. Me too. Be a good girl and cum for me," he whispered, swallowing a moan from how good she felt on top of him.

Just before her legs gave up, an electrocuting sensation tickled her neck and stiffened her whole body. The witch came letting out a surprised little scream with her head buried in his shoulder; she had definitely never felt something like that.

“Good girl, yeah, good girl,” he panted as she rode him through her orgasm.

Remus welcomed all the weight of her body in his chest and, unannounced, came in his dressing pants from the lazy movements the girl was making on him to elongate her climax. He joined her ecstasy with satisfied little grunts and a fist holding her hair. Both entered a hazy, dreamy state where nothing could be bad and words were too complicated to pronounce.

The girl raised her head to meet Remus' eyes. He, ignoring the small circle of drool that she had left on his upper sleeve, gave her a smile and held her by the neck to kiss her sweet lips, certainly not for the last time.

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: ~10.4K

paring: God!Sero x f!Nymph!Reader

warning(s):  dubcon, drugging, use of aphrodisiacs, loss of innocence, first time, marking, oral (f!recieveing), creampie, sero being manipulative in general.

authors note: hello again! Figured i would repost this lovely Sero piece once again as I have its sequel coming out very shortly, and its best to have everything in one place. This was part of a Mythology collab, and I loosely based it on the Apollo and Daphne myth; though I twisted it a little. So please, enjoy Sero using sweet words to convince you into his conniving plan~ 🔮

Nymphs, nature deities that are not fully gods yet not mortal as well. The only true creature that lives for themselves and yet the only one invariably bound to the land of mortals. And what more can a nymph do than to plenish their lands, give lone travelers a peek of god-like beauty, and to tempt the gods?

A long time ago, Gods ruled the world.

Before mortals became too abundant, their faith lost, and took over everything; the gods controlled all that was seen, heard, and felt. They gifted the mortals things like the wheat in their fields, the water in their cups, the hearth and warmth in their homes, and even the beautiful visions they would see when they slept.

The gods were kind enough to bless them with the sun, the moon, the tide,  the rain that filled the clouds, the mountains that provided shelter from the harsh winds, the peacefulness of being guided to safety in death, and even love; in the many beautiful shapes and forms they came in.

And beings.

Ones that were not fully mortal, yet not fully gods. Creatures created by the gods to simply be enjoyed by the mortals; those that were lucky enough to find them. Maidens of rare beauty, and melodic laughter, that could be found in all parts of the mortal realm. 

Some say they were a gift from Aphrodite herself, as a way to give her thanks to those that were ever devoted to her. Some say they were a gift from Apollo, another form of his muses to gift them with beautiful singing and subjects to paint. And some say it was Zeus, having to give away all of his lovely daughters to the mortals to appease his queen.

Either way, they existed too.

Nymphs, they were called. Nature deities that were beyond that of mortals, but not powerful enough to be labeled gods, or even demi-gods. They lived hidden away from all. Not wanting to be seen or disturbed by many, if any at all. But, if a lone traveler was lucky enough, they may spot a few bathing by waterfalls, or dancing amongst the forest's trees, or soaking the sun rays in a beautiful meadow.

They were everywhere. The oceans, the rivers, the mountains, the forests, the meadows, anywhere the gods had touched and blessed there were to be nymphs to plenish and restore. To keep alive what the gods had left behind; to love what had been forgotten.

You were what the mortals called an Anthousai, a flower nymph. The luckiest of all spirits that were contained to forests and fields; even your fellow wood and plant nymphs were jealous of what you were. A beautiful flower to be admired.

Though the tree stands tall, and grass gives plenty, they could not compare to the beauty that came from anthousai, not even if they were to give up their lives and transform; for a tree could not compare to the beauty of an everlasting flower.

Though you never knew what flower you truly were, whether it be a rose, bluebells, or peonies, your beauty was beyond compare. Even your sisters, fellow flower nymphs like you, over time grew to be spiteful at just how radiant you had become; overshining even them, and they were to be just as beautiful.

They were resentful of you, the one that was most blessed by the gods.

You never were to be invariably bound to one place, for no place wanted to keep you. You constantly were searching, trying to find a home to be secure within, to find sisters that loved you and would dance and sing and care for you as you cared for all that crossed your path. But over time it was made clear that those of forest and field would not want to keep you and call you their own.

So you fled towards the mountains, where the springs and rock would be; hoping they would provide you with what you needed to live.

And, as luck and fortune would bless you once more, you came upon a fellow nymph that was like you. An Oceanid, one that was to be associated with water, as the personification of the springs that dwelled within the land you stumbled upon. And much like you, she was blessed more than anyone else and cast out for it.

She took you to where she lived. A place hidden by rock and trees and held within it a large pond of water that was so blue and clear one could get mesmerized by the simplest ripples on its surface. Not far from it was a tiny home, cozy and sweet that made your heart fill with warmth when you stepped inside it for the first time. And right below it, a passageway that led to a path, that if a traveler was lucky enough to stumble across, could cut his journey through the mountains in half.

Not ideal, truly, for a nymph that wishes to hide away from any mortal; and though this path and place were hard to reach, it had a higher probability to have a mortal stumble upon it, and you, than where any other nymph resided.

But, where one saw misfortune, you both saw the opposite. 

If travelers wished to use your sacred path, to hopefully gaze upon beauty that they will never see again in their life, to trespass and invade your home, then they must leave a gift upon your altar. Failure to do so meant traveling back to where they once came, and conquering the mountain with even fewer supplies. So it only made sense to give up a small token, or bits of coin and gold to you both to be able to pass through.

And oh how blessed with gifts you were. Piles of gold and silver coins filled tiny satchels that hung upon your walls; and made beautiful jingling sounds whenever the wind would shift them. Jewels that would glisten in the sun whenever you held them up to gaze at their beautiful colours. And trinkets, both old and new, that decorated any part of your dwelling with their unique beauty; with some you would wear or attach to your clothing with how much you adored their charm.

It was not long that the news of this passageway, and the creatures that were being treated better than the gods, reached the heavenly realm. 

~~~

“It’s becoming ridiculous!” Ashido cried out, bringing a golden fan up to cool her heated face “They’re getting more offerings than me now! Me!”

Ashido threw herself down on a nearby chaise lounge, the pillows making a soft landing on her otherwise dramatic display, as she brought an arm up to cover her eyes. The fellow gods around her just rolled their eyes, more than used to the over-dramatics their friend and fellow deity was currently putting on display. They knew that, in due time, this would all blow over and she would be acting as if nothing ever happened.

“So, it’s all well and fine if we lose out on offerings. But the moment the Goddess of Love and Beauty starts to lose just a few, then it’s an issue?”

Denki smirked from his spot, chin in palm, as he retorted back to the fellow god that was throwing a fit, more than amused by it all - unlike his fellow brethren. His smile only became wider when he saw Ashido’s eyebrows furrow and a scowl form on her face.

“Oh don’t make such a face!” He laughed, throwing his head back so far he too was lying comfortably on his chaise “It’s very unbecoming of you!”

“Will you two knock it off?” Katsuki grumbled, hands working a stone over the blade of his sword with practiced ease “Who cares about what offerings two stupid nymphs get?”

“I do!” Ashido sat back up again, her glare now pointed towards the man sitting on the floor “They lesser beings! Lesser creatures than I am! And yet their beauty is being more devoted than mine! It’s not right!”

And while those words only received an eye roll from the War God, another god’s interest was now piqued. Sure he knew of the situation, it was all anyone could talk about up in the heavens, but to now know that these creatures were deemed more lovely and fair than his friend? Well, it was certainly interesting news, to say the least.

“Fascinating…”

“Oh come now Hanta!” Ashido cried once more, knocking the arrow he was absentmindedly twirling in his hands “Really? As a fellow love god, I figured you would take my plight more seriously!”

“It is your plight, not mine” He hummed in response, before scoffing in mirth “Come on, how can you not find this interesting? When in our lives has any nymph really claimed the hearts of so many mortals? To the point where they are mistaking them for Gods?”

“Well….”

“Never! We have only ever seen them as nuisances at best, or in Denki’s case a quick romp to let off some steam. Nothing more than a means to an end. Now they are controlling mortals, and even us to a degree! Surely you should find that quite amazing of creatures you half-heartedly help make, turning into something almost as beautiful and powerful as you.”

Ashido rolled her eyes at the last statement, not liking having her greatness compared to that of two lowly nymphs; but Hanta did have a point. Though she would never admit it, her scoff and abrupt standing proof she no longer wished to be in the same room as him for simply being right.

“If you find them so fascinating, then why don’t you meet them?”

Hanta, or any of her fellow friends, did not have a chance to reply before she stormed out of the room. It caused Katsuki to scoff once more before resuming his task, this time with more vigor. And for Hanta to roll his eyes, fingers deftly twirling his silver arrow once again as his mind began to wander.

Just how beautiful was the pair of you?

Before he could ponder the question any further, he stood abruptly too. Not wanting to waste another moment wondering about those thoughts, instead, he wanted to see for himself. He was a god after all, so why shouldn’t he know more about these beings that were creating quite a stir in his realm? 

“Maybe I will…” He mumbled to himself, feet starting to take him to where he wanted to go before his mind could fully comprehend where.

“Like hell you are!” Denki stood in his way, effectively blocking the taller god from taking another step “Not without me!”

This caused Hanta to smirk down at him “Nymphs are cautious creatures, and due to their nature one must be careful how they interact with them. And if I actually want to interact with them at some point, my best bet isn’t to bring the one god known for sleeping with, and breaking the hearts of, almost everyone single one.”

“W-well! So what?” Denki’s skin became flushed as blood rushed to his face in embarrassment over his friend's truth, “You’re a god too, and it's clear they don’t like any! So what makes you think you can succeed with them, huh?”

“Because, my simple friend,” Hanta smiled, side-stepping the flustered god to continue on his way “I am the God of Flattery and Sweet Words, hard to lose the trust of such lovely creatures with that.”

~~~

Though it took a lot of effort, and even more flattery, to get just where in the mountains (and which mountain) you and your friend were calling home from Ashido, he still managed to get it. And with gleeful steps, strong winds to help his wings glide him swiftly through the air, and the gracefulness of his very being, he managed to find you both with no issue at all.

He perched himself upon a nearby tree, high enough that one would not notice he was there if they were to walk by, and just observed the pair of you. 

Your friend (or sister, as you kept calling her), he would admit, was beautiful. She was the one that caught his eye first. The way her skin seemed to always glow under the sun's rays as she gracefully danced upon the meadow you were residing in was hard to ignore. He chuckled to himself at the thought of some mortal stumbling across her, just knowing they would mistake her for his dear friend Ochako mid-hunt with how ethereal she looked.

But then his eyes finally glanced over to you, unable to help himself from sparing you a glance when your sister had called out to you, and it was then he felt his heart stop in his chest and for the world around him to stop moving. 

It was your smile, or so he thinks when he thought back at that moment again and again, that caused such a powerful reaction within him. How radiant it was, how it lit up the world around you brighter than a thousand suns. How warm it made him feel when it unknowingly was sent in his direction. And how it made him finally look at your beautiful face.

After he saw that smile he wondered why your sister had ever caught his attention in the first place. The way the flowers around you sat upon your head and fell into your hair, the way your eyes looked so bright as they gazed up at your companion, and how soft and small your hands look when they reached out to her, to allow her to pull you up into a dance, were all so captivating.

He may have been fascinated before as to why mortals were throwing themselves into danger just for a glimpse of you, but now he understood fully. You were the most breathtaking creature he had ever witnessed in his long immortal life, and he could not lie when he thought to himself that day that your beauty could rival that of Ashido’s. In fact, he could not lie and say that he wouldn’t choose you over his old friend if he had to judge who the most beautiful in all the realms was.

He wanted you.

He wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life, and he wanted for very little. But he knew that you would deny him from plucking you from where you called home; it was in your nature. And in a perfect world, he can simply walk up to you and say a few pretty words and you would be his.

But thanks to his friend Denki, you would not trust him in the slightest; nor his intentions, for you could sense that they would not be pure. For how could they, as nymphs really only existed to be temptresses to the gods and then have their hearts broken once they gave their flowers to them. And you knew you were a rare flower, one that would not choose so willingly to be plucked up and away from your life, home, and companion. 

No. If Hanta wished to have you, all of you all to himself, he would have to be patient. And well, it was a virtue and he knew he was virtuous enough to conquer the lust that raged within him when he looked at you to see himself succeeding. To see you run into his arms and ask him to take you away and be his forever.

And what better way can he think to court you, to earn your favour and trust, than to leave you gifts at your altar?

Not just any gifts though. No, he would not waste your time with the meaningless trinkets and coins that those travelers gifted you, he would give you things only the gods could. To give you all the spoils known to them as a way of proving his devotion to you; for why else would a god willingly give up all his riches if not for love?

~~~

It was strange to you at first, the small gifts that were left at your door. Usually when there was a gift there was a traveler nearby, waiting for you or your sister to allow them to pass. But these gifts would just appear as if they came into existence by the wind.

And what gifts they were! 

Robes made with the brightest and finest silks, always adorned with beautiful gold and silver embellishments, with a few jewels within the intricate carvings. Rings that were so heavy your hands always felt like lead when you wore them. Bracelets that could wrap and entangle all the way up your arms and legs, adorning your whole limb in its beauty. And necklaces that always perfectly sat upon your chest, with their large gemstones settling flawlessly in between your bosom. 

You always shared these splendid and grand gifts with your sister, not wanting to be cruel and hoard all the splendor to yourself. But over time you started to grow nervous about where these gifts were coming from, about who was sending them to you. For who could afford to give you these things if not a god? And if it truly was a god, how did you catch his eye? And why would he only want to give you these things, never your sister? 

Soon there were gifts being given to you every day. As every morning they would sit at your doorstep, waiting for you to collect them. There was little space for you to place them in your home over time, with many of the gifts being left unopened; them sitting upon shelves in the bindings they came to you in. 

And one day, upon a pile of other treasures that awaited you that morning, a golden apple sat glistening in the sunrise. That was the day all your doubts and nerves got the better of you as you shut the door and hid yourself away. 

That was the day you knew for certain a god was trying to court you, for no other being other than god could get ahold of golden apples. The heavenly fruit that they all ate upon as if it was nothing more than a common fruit; but to you and all other mortals it was more than that. It was the only thing that could grant any being immortal life.

Therefore the reason it was given to you, sat upon piles of other treasures, was a sign that a god had wanted to take you away; to call you their own. And the thought terrified you. For where would you end up? What would they want from you? And would they cast you aside as if you were nothing, like all nymphs were treated by them? And what would happen to your sister? Would you never see her again?

That was the thought that terrified you the most.

Heartache, terror, abuse, you could bear if it meant she was by your side. You had waited long enough to finally get the companionship you had always craved; the one you searched for in many lands, and you did not want to give it up any time soon.

So the gifts, and that apple, stayed outside for days as you stayed hidden behind your walls in hopes that the sender would take that as a sign of your rejection. A sign you did not want, or need, the lavish gifts anymore and for him to move onto a more wanting and deserving creature.

When Hanta saw that his gifts were left untouched, the apple still perched precariously upon the other lavish items he had wanted you to wear and adore, it made his entire being slouch in despair. 

How could you not like them? Why would you not take them?

He knew they were no different from all the other gifts he had given you, and he knew you loved those. He watched as you glided through the forests, and that wonderful meadow where he first saw you, twirling in those gowns. Giggling with your sister when you were jangling those bracelets as you danced, holding those rings up to the light. Unable to let his eyes wander whenever his necklaces would sit between your breasts. 

And though he was never a fan of whenever you shared those gifts with your sister, he only ever wanted you to wear what he gave, he knew that you did so out of excitement. Excitement that you would show with every new gown and jewelry you placed on your body you would always pair it with a new crown made of the very flowers you tended to.

He watched you, from his favorite spot in the trees, as you gleefully would make them. Hands always hurried as you tried to finish them as quickly as possible as if you could not bear to wait another moment without it upon your head. And though they always looked so beautiful upon your brow, he always promised he would give you a real one someday.

One made of gold, if you were to say yes to him; to be his. But there it sat, collecting dust upon your altar. A rejection of him and all other splendors he wishes to give you. 

It made him furious, just as it did fill his being with sorrow. Not furious at you, no, he could never hate you. Furious that he overturned his hand and made you skittish. Made you untrusting of him and his intentions. Made it seem like you did not want him.

But of course, you did. Of course, you wanted him.

He just had to make sure you understood why you wanted him. How no one else could compare to him. How no one else would treat you with such warmth and comfort and give you any spoil your little heart could ever desire for the rest of your life.

And well, it seemed only fitting that you should finally meet him as he told you all these things.

~~~

It was in your springs where he found you that night. Though it was not Hanta’s intention to spy on you while you both bathed in the cool waters, he couldn’t help it. How could one resist that temptation? To hear the sweet laughter mixed with the splashing of water to lure one in, and then to see the sight of two beautiful maidens while they bathed. It was simply not fair.

If he were a lesser man he would have jumped out to try and take one of you then.

But he was not and found great pleasure simply watching the pair of you. How the moon illuminated your skin to make it that much more supple; that much more tempting for him to touch. How he could not stop his eyes from roaming your figure as you brought oils to your skin, to lavish and clean it before they disappeared into the water around you.

Hanta was almost envious of the suds, the small bubbles, that had a chance to touch your perfect body and soft skin. Of the water that elicited such sweet squeals of excitement when it was splashed onto you, to the soft sighs it cast from your lips when you would lounge back into it. And of your sister, the only one who was able to witness all of these things about you; and so selfishly kept it all to herself.

Though it was only when a twig snapped under his foot, an oversight he normally wouldn’t let happen, that he realized his mistake. Realized that his first meeting with you would be tarnished over impure thoughts and actions, which would only lead to you not trusting him even more.

For what nymph could trust a god they caught spying on them while they bathed?

But he had to try. And he leaped from his spot once he saw the pair of you scurrying for your clothing and out of the spring. He cared not for your sister, and allowed her to run towards your home, though he followed you closely; making it impossible for you to return to the place you felt the safest.

He managed to corner you once again, back to where it all started. The waterfall from the springs could be heard faintly behind you as you watched him approach the tree you had hidden behind. Your breathing labored as you held your clothing up to your body as best you could to conserve what was left of your modesty.

“I won’t hurt you.” Hanta called out to you, his voice soft to not further spook you “And I won’t cause you any harm, I promise. I just think you are the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen; so won’t you please come out and talk to me? For just but a moment?”

You glare at him, eyes holding suspicion over his claims. Though you finally relented when you watched as he stepped closer and closer to you, in your ever-vulnerable state.

“S-stop! Please stay where you are…” You called out, voice losing strength as you continue to cower away from him “I will speak with you, only if you promise to turn your head away and allow me to get dressed.”

Hanta gave a small smile, hands clasping behind his back as he turned his body away from you; making sure to keep his head and gaze straight ahead of him, to not make you suspicious that he was trying to catch another glimpse.

“Did you not like them?” 

His question startled you, a small gasp slipping out as you stumbled with your garment; almost tripping over your own feet. You took a deep breath to regain some level of composure as you shakily slipped your legs through the gathering.

“I am not sure what you mean…” You pulled the fabric upwards, placing the final strap over your one shoulder; your eyes never straying from the back of his head.

“The gifts.” He replied, “I have given you plenty, but it seems that lately, you have not accepted any. I am wondering if you did not like them.”

“Oh, it was you…” You made your way from out behind the tree, the movements being heard by the man before you as he finally turned back around to face you.

He was taller than you by a far margin, one that kept growing as he made his way towards you; his steps were careful to show he was not to harm you. When he finally reached you, he crouched down as close to your level as he could and clasped your hands in his, gently squeezing them in his hold.

“I am.” His voice was but a whisper as he pulled you closer, trying in vain to get you to look up at him, wanting nothing more than to gaze into your beautiful eyes.

“Then you should know why I did not accept them” You voice soft but strong, as you turned your head away from him “You are a god, the gifts you have given proof of that. And from all the tales I have heard and seen, all a god does is take the chastity of nymphs before casting them aside.”

“How could I ever do that to you? I would never do that to you. In my eyes, you are far too lovely and beautiful to ever just be cast aside.” 

He heard you scoff, head moving away from his deft fingers as they tried to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, clearly not believing him. His actions just displayed proof of why you were untrusting, and so he would have to use his sweet words in a different manner.

“In all truth, had I not come down this very night to see you, I am sure my brethren would try and take you away.”

You stiffened in his hold, fear gripping your being at his words. Frozen in place you finally allowed him to move your head up to look at him, into his dark eyes that told you what he said was true.

“W-what…?” Your voice was shaky, as was your body when you continued to scan his face for any semblance of trickery; only to still find none.

“My fellow gods, the ones I call friends from time to time, they heard the stories of nymphs in the mountains that had caught all sorts of mortals' attention.” Hanta began, “They were curious, and wanted to see for themselves just how beautiful you were. But my friends are more beast than gentleman; I fear of what might have become of you had I not scared them off.”

You collapsed into him, the shock of his words controlling your body more than your mind as you clung to his tunic. Though you could not see it, Hanta had an impish smile on his face as he comforted you; his hands running soothing patterns up your arms.

“But you needn't worry!” He pulled back to look at your face once more, squeezing your arms in comfort “I will protect you from them. All I ask is that you accept me, take my gifts, and allow me your company.”

“How… how will I know?” You looked back up at him, hands lowering from his chest “How will I know you are being truthful with me?”

“I am a God of Love, my dear,” Hanta fluttered the wings on his back to make light of that truth. “And as one, I never appreciated or cared for those that would take advantage of it; to abuse it and harm others with their lust. I can tell my friend's intentions are not pure, as I can with any being, and I cannot bear it if they were to harm a precious flower like you.”

Hanta watched you carefully. Watched how your eyes glanced at his wings, back to his face, and turned downcast once again as you took in his words. He has hoped the sweet words he was known for would work on you, to break down your walls to allow him in.  He had to hide the victorious smile from gracing his features when you gazed up at him and accepted his protection and his terms.

“Tell me your name” You mumbled, taking a step away from him. “If I have to agree to all of this, then please allow me to know the name of my protector.”

“Hanta, you may call me Hanta.”

Your head shot back up to look at him, eyes once again glaring at him as you took another step away from him “There is no god named Hanta.”

“None named for the mortals.” Hanta smiled, closing the gap between you once more “None of us gods are ever named what mortals claim we are, even in their stories. Our true names are only spoken and used amongst each other, in the heavens. Only you, in this mortal realm, shall have the knowledge and privilege to call me it.”

“Hanta.” You whispered out, nodding your head in agreement with his words.

“Good, now be off.” 

It took all of his strength to step away from you; not wanting to be away from your warmth now that he finally had it. But he did. Only if it were to prove to you he was on your side, that he wanted to protect you.

He watched with bated breath as you scurried away, back to your home. Only allowing himself a breath, and a mirthful smirk to appear, once he knew you were too far away to see it. His wings stretched out behind him as he took flight back home.

His meeting with you went far better than he ever planned it. And now he had plenty to dream of that night.

~~~

It was rare for the God of War to come to the mortal realm.

Especially seeing as there was no war to be had. No fight to participate in, no blood for him to shed, and no victory to be won for him once all the dust and debris settled. And it was even more rare that the God of Strength would follow alongside him into this plane when there was no battle to be had.

But there were never ones to turn down a mission.

Their pride and honor to strong within them to let a challenge go to the wayside simply because they thought it was stupid, pitiful, or a waste of their time. And though Katsuki thought what he was doing here, what he was about to do, fit into all three categories he simply could not tell his friend no.

Hanta never asked for much, especially from him. And Katsuki had to admit that his fellow friends served him very well in battles of past; always fighting on his side to help him claim his victories. So, he could swallow his pride for a moment or two so he can fulfill a small favour in return to the larger ones he was in debt to.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice either.

“Why are we doing this again?” Ejirou asked, scooting himself closer to his friend while still staying crouched behind some foliage.

“Because Hanta asked us to.” Katsuki mumbled, huffing out his answer as it wasn’t the first time he was asked.

“But it doesn’t seem right, doing any of this. And you normally don’t waste your time on such trivial things, especially when it comes to beings like nymphs, so why are you here? And why did you drag me into this?”

“Because!” Katsuki hissed, baring his teeth in warning “Hanta asked for us to do this! And the last time I refused that bastard made it impossible for me to be intimate with anyone for over 200 years!”

Katsuki huffed, watching his friend eye him warily before shifting slightly away, the action making him slump his shoulders in slight defeat. 

“Listen. I don’t want to do this either. If I had it my way, we would all just leave these two idiots alone for the rest of their lives. But Hanta seems to like one of them, and we all know there is nothing we can do to stop him.”

“You’re right….”

Ejirou mumbles that last part, knowing that his friend was right. There was no way to change Hanta’s mind once it was set on something, much like it was impossible to change any of their minds. They were gods, and they were selfish. They took what they wanted and when they wanted it.

It was just that both of them were unnerved at the taking of a nymph away from the place they were bound to. Something that was never meant to be done. When they were created they were made to be invariably bound to the mortal realm, to avoid any chaos that may happen if they were to come to the heavens.

Hanta was playing a risky game, and though they trusted he would play his cards right, and well. They could not be sure that his actions would not cause a ripple effect that would turn into a grand-scale fight amongst them; like the choosing of the fairest once again.

Though they had no time to further delve into their thoughts on the matter, not when you and your sister had approached where they were hiding. Your giggles filled the air as you came into the springs once more; wanting a dip in their cool waters to help quench your thirst and cool you from the warm summer rays.

Both men tensed, breath hitching in their throats as you both started to slowly undress; taking off your charms and jewels, and placing them into neat little piles by the water's edge. Katsuki hated that you were lovely, hated that the stories of you both were true; for if they weren’t he would be able to justify what he was about to do as some sort of favor - to save those travelers all that time from trying to seek out a creature that turned out to be hideous.

Eijirou hated what he was about to do because you were so beautiful. Hated the fact that he would have to scar and torment such enchanting creatures for the sake of his friend; for if it were up to him, he would just bask in your glow until he was satisfied, and leave this place with a beautiful memory to last him eternity.

But it was not up to him, nor his companion next to him; and with deep, quiet breaths they both solidified their resolve and stood from where they once were hiding. 

The startled gasps, the scrambling, and the screaming were all something they loathed to hear from you both as they made their way over to where you were. They hated how they had to play the part and chase you both down, to separate the both of you to further petrify you both. How they had to watch you stumble and fall, to scratch your perfect skin on tree branches and rock as you tried to get away from them; all of it.

They hated all of it. 

But once they watched the pair of you rush into your home is when they stopped their chase. Made it seem like they had lost you somewhere within the trees; mumbling to each other how they would just come back another day before walking off, back to where they once were.

Sickness, that was all they felt at the bottom of their stomachs as they returned home. This victory was not like the one found in battle. Not one filled with glory and blood and sweat. This one was hollow, shallow as its waves crashed down upon them in a way that made them feel uneasy.

It was not the first time they chased a maiden down in hopes to garner their sweet bodies as their rewards. But somehow it felt like it was, and they could not look upon their friend when they told him of what had just transpired; couldn’t bear to see the glee in his eyes when he heard it all.

~~~

You both had not slept that night, for how could you when the one thing you were most afraid of happening to you, happened.

So, when Hanta visited you the next morning you couldn’t help but run out to him. Sprinting through the field of tall grass and throwing yourself onto him; clinging to him like he was the other tether keeping you to the ground.

“You cannot leave us again!” You cried out, tears flowing freely from your eyes and soaking into the cloth of his tunic “You cannot leave me again! Please! You cannot, not again!”

Hanta had to hide his smile, one that was filled with so much joy and satisfaction, from you as he further buried your head into his chest—allowing himself this moment to hold you close and shush you, to try and calm his body down and act the part of a confused and concerned friend.

“What has you so upset, my beloved?” He asked, pulling you from him to gaze upon your face, to allow you to see his concern for you. “What has gone wrong?”

“Y-you were right!” You wailed, unable to hide your sniffles and sobs as you spoke “T-they came! Y-y-your friends! They tried to take us!”

“Shhhh…” He cooed softly, pulling you back into him to try and calm you down “I know you must be terrified right now, but I’m here now. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you’re not always here!” Your voice was muffled due to your position, as you brought your arms up to dig into his side “You weren’t here yesterday! And that‘s when they came! You promised you would protect me!”

Hanta would admit, he hated seeing you cry. Hated hearing the way your voice, one usually filled with cheer, sounded so broken; so miserable. And he hated knowing he was the cause that set in motion the event that shook you to your core.

But it needed to be done, you needed to see how important he was to you. Needed you to see that your place was to be by him, that was where you were meant to be. 

“I am trying to protect you, my honeysuckle…” Hanta brought a hand up to pet your hair, “But it is difficult for me to be in two places at once. My home is in the heavens, it is where I am to fulfill my duties to the mortals; it is rather difficult for me to make these trips to you as it means neglecting what I am meant to do. Unless....”

He let it hang in the air, a pregnant pause for you to become curious about what he might say. He knew he had you when you lifted your head up to look at him once again, repeating his last word back to him.

“Unless…” Hanta sighed, “Unless you leave with me, and come to live with me in my domain. Only then can I assure your protection.”

He knew you would not like his answer, especially as he saw new fresh tears starting to fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks with their hot streams. He cupped your face in his palm, wiping them away as he tried to comfort you once again, playing the part of a torn man in a tough situation perfectly, as he tried to reason with you.

“B-but my sister!” You babbled, head shaking at every word he was saying “I cannot leave my sister behind! I won’t do it!”

“Your sister can find solace in the mountains if needed! An anthousai is bound to meadows and fields! You cannot find that there, cannot find safety anywhere but where I can protect you!”

“B-but...”

“I know that it is a difficult thing to accept, a difficult choice you must make. But if you want the protection I can provide you must leave with me. I can promise you that nothing will harm you; not a finger to be laid on your skin while you are within my domain.”

You sniffle, looking into his eyes once more; to see if there was any trace of dishonesty within them. And, like always, there was none. With a shaky breath, and a nod of your head, you stepped away from his hold to walk back to your home to say your goodbyes.

Your feet felt like lead with every step. Your heart ached at every flower, leaf, and blade of grass that you passed for you knew it would be the last time you saw it. And as you made it closer and closer to where your sister was, to the home that made your heart feel warm. 

Now it filled you with sorrow and dread, as you wondered if you would ever again feel the kind of happiness you felt when you first stepped within these walls. Wondered what would become of your sisters once you left this place for good. You hoped for nicer and better things, better companions, but your heart could not promise you such things, your mind could not ease its worries. 

You couldn’t speak when she opened the door, asking you what was going on. All you could do was pull her into you, hold her in your tight grasp as you whispered how much you loved her. How brighter sunrises were upon her horizon, and how you would miss her so.

She watched you walk back down to him, your body shaking with the violent sobs coming forth. Watched as this man, this god, took you back into his arms and shushed you; claiming you down and whispering what she could only assume was sweet nothings to you. 

She watched as you turned back to her once more. A broken smile, one that looked more like a pained grimace, appeared upon your lips as you brought a weak hand up to wave your last goodbye to her. A goodbye she never envisioned ever happening.

And then she watched him take you away; forever.

~~~

Hanta’s home was beautiful.

It was filled with golden pillars and furniture. Marbled rock adorned many surfaces, with plush pillows and linen upon beds, lounges, and chairs. You knew they would feel like clouds, be the softest things you could ever lie on. 

But at this moment you couldn’t care for how soft anything felt, how plush and inviting the comfort was as it sank perfectly when your body had collapsed on top of it. Or how inviting it was to allow your body to enjoy it all, to allow it to lure you into a wondrous sleep.

No, for at this moment you were mourning the greatest loss you could possibly think of.

Hanta was kind enough to sit next to you through it. A hand running soothing patterns up your arms, your back, and even your hair as you cried out in anguish; never saying a word. Only murmuring out to you, after what felt like days of sobbing, to rest your head; to let yourself enter the land of dreams, and for Hitoshi to guide you to a sweet one.  And you could not stop your body from finally agreeing. 

For you would need your rest. 

Hanta had waited long enough to finally have you here with him. He adored that you always believed him, that your naivete allowed you to trust him and his sweet words. To allow him to take you here, to the one place where you will never be able to escape him; for once a nymph was the enter the realm of the gods, she would lose her ability to transform - for how could a nymph become a tree, or a flower, while in the heavens?

They couldn’t. And now you were forever at his mercy. Forever to spend your days with him, indulging him in whatever splendor he wanted from you; for he was kind enough to indulge you for the months it took to woo you, it was only fair to pay him back in kind.

You, the sweet little anthousai. One too blinded by the God, whose sweet words and flattery made you melt, to notice that he had other titles too; that treachery and deception and craftiness came hand in hand with sweet nothings and empty compliments.

And oh, what a crafty web he had spun for you. The one who laid so sweetly upon his bed.

The one who called to him like a lost and sad child when you finally awoke. Your big eyes stared up at him, as you asked him for some food for your hungry tummy and something to quench your dry throat.

And who was he to deny someone so precious? A sweet little thing that asked him so nicely? He couldn’t and wouldn’t, and so he went to fetch you some of the finest fruits and ambrosia to nibble on as you tried to awaken your tired body. And wine, his special and most favourite wine for you to sip on.

When he held out the goblet to you, you hesitated; your arm halting before it could reach the drink. “I-it’s pink…”

“Yes, yes it is!” Hanta couldn’t help but laugh at your obvious statement, enjoying the way you eyed the pink liquid that seemed to swirl within its confinement with a mind of its own “A special kind of wine, the only kind reserved and enjoyed by the gods.”

The way you looked at him, eyes still showing trepidation over what he was offering. He couldn’t blame you for it, someone like you would not know the type of splendors the gods enjoyed from day to day; you were but a humble and simple thing.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders, bringing the goblet to his lips and taking a gulp of its contents. “Look see? Nothing wrong with it at all! Just a sweet wine, one that tastes like wild strawberries.”

He smiled when you finally relented, a sheepish smile gracing your own face when you finally accepted his offer; almost like you felt silly for doubting him in the first place. But again, you were just a sweet simple thing. How could you have known that gods are immune to the effects of aphrodisiacs?

How could you have known what they would feel like once they had taken hold of your body?

You couldn’t. And when you felt your breathing become labored, your body started to sweat as your heartbeat quickened, and for a strange heat to enter your belly; you grew scared. Wanting whatever heat that had entered you to subside and allow you to breathe; to allow the aching you felt to stop.

Hanta watched with mirth from the corner of his eye at you. Watching how your body squirmed and shifted, trying to get comfortable but never succeeding. Trying to ease your discomfort but failing to do so, not knowing how.

��Honeysuckle, are you alright?” He asked you, moving aside the platter of fruit to shift closer to you.

“I-I feel funny…!” You mumbled out, hand grasping around the wrist trying to check your temperature; unable to help yourself as you pulled him closer to you “I don’t know what’s wrong!”

You wished you could stop yourself, and show some form of modesty and restraint. But your body was on fire, and your mind had no way of stopping it from acting on its own. You clung to him, yet again. Though this time you had climbed into his lap, your hips stuttering as you inadvertently ground your lower half onto his leg.

“Funny how?” Hanta asked, eyes turning dark with lust as he watched you try to relieve yourself upon him so shamelessly, it made blood rush to his cock as he had to hold your hips in place; to help ground himself.

“I don’t know!” You whined, nails digging into the muscles on his shoulders - wishing he would allow you to move your hips again “I feel warm and funny, and it hurts!”

“It hurts?”

“Mhm!” You nodded, head ducking down to rest against his chest as you panted heavily, trying to get a level head once more, but failing miserably “I don’t know what to do!”

“I can help you” Hanta murmured, taking some of your hair and pushing it aside so he may be able to kiss along your neck, smirking when he heard you whine at the contact “Will you let me help you?”

You frantically nodded your head, but he tuts at that response; teasingly squeezing your hips in his gasp “Ah, ah, ah, I need you to say it love.”

You moved your head back up to look at him, and he relished the frustrated tears that were now forming in your eyes. The way your lips formed a pout, made them look more plush and delectable to try and bite and suckle on.

“Please help me Hanta” You whimpered out, unable to resist pushing yourself closer to him.

“Say that you’re mine, and I will give you everything you could ever need.” He baited, wanting to hear even more of your sweet voice.

“I’m all yours…”

You were going to say more; going to beg him further to finally help you; to ask him to stop prolonging your suffering. But you were silenced when you felt his lips press into yours. Felt the way they moved against yours, trying to get you to follow suit; which you do after a moment with fever.

You could help the moan that was muffled between you when you felt his tongue peak out, running along the bottom of your lip. You wished you knew what he wanted, you would be more than willing to give it to him. But Hanta seemed to understand this, and he moved your hips against him, allowing you to feel the hardness underneath. The gasp you let out was short-lived, as his tongue plunged into your mouth, exploring it slowly and expertly.

All you could do was melt into him; melt into his touch and the way he was kissing you. He left you breathless, panting hotly into the air when he finally parted from you; unable to keep the smirk off his face when he saw the blissed-out look you had acquired.

Hanta loved hearing the small gasps and whines you would let spill forth from your mouth, almost like you were unable to keep them hidden, when he started to kiss down your jaw. Moving slowly down your neck, leaving little nips to see your jump in surprise; your sweet little mewls going straight to his length that he was slowly rocking you onto

He was taking his time with you; he had waited so long just to have you at this moment and he wasn’t going to rush it; even if it was tempting with the way you kept pulling him closer and calling his name so sweetly. But he knew he needed to do everything right, everything perfectly, so you would crave him. Want him like this all the time.

He slowly pushed your shift down your arms, lips following closely behind his hands; to slowly caress and kiss every inch of skin you had allowed him to see and look upon. And what a sight you were to see; to him every inch of you was perfectly crafted and made him that more elated that you were all his.

“I know…” Hanta cooed, lips lavishing the skin of your breasts, fingers gently tugging on your hardened nipples “I know… it is uncomfortable. But let me take my time, love. I promise you it will be worth it. Let me worship you like you were meant to be.”

You jumped, unable to help yourself from placing a hand in his hair, tugging it harshly, when Hanta’s fingers brushed against your folds. He groaned, both at your harsh tugging and at how soaked you had become; just over some heavy petting.

Though, the feeling was foreign to you; one that kicked your senses into overdrive. You couldn’t help but clamp your legs shut, effectively stopping his hand from continuing, at the sudden and unfamiliar feeling.

“My love,” Hanta cooed, gently pulling your legs apart, “You asked for relief, and I shall give it to you. Put your trust in me, I can assure you it will feel good.” 

He placed reassuring kisses along your chest, slowly petting his free hand up and down your thigh to help calm you; to help relax you and allow him access once again to your dripping cunt.

You sigh out after a moment, trembling legs finally parting for him, freeing his hand once again. Unable to help yourself from keening at his long fingers as they slowly started to up and down your folds. Being careful at where to touch, looking at your face to see which spots you reacted most to; centering in on them to hear you cry out for him. 

Your little bundle of nerves is where he narrows in after he accidentally brushed against it; the way you moaned his name made his whole being shudder - wanting to hear you say it again and again and again. Wanting to watch you writhe and whine atop of him as you finally come undone by him.

You gasped, legs trying to close once more but unable to do so by a hand holding a thigh in place, when you felt his fingers start to circle your entrance, the one place that has never been touched or breached.

“Just breathe, I need to properly prepare you, my love.” Hanta groaned when he felt your quivering hole clench around nothing at his words “I promise you this will be just as good, if not better, than what I have already done.”

He truly had the hands of a god, the way they so delicately entered you; stretched you in such a way that you had no choice but to moan out for more. You never could have imagined this feeling, even in your sweetest dreams. 

And it was accompanied by his words. Oh, how you could listen to him forever with the way he was groaning and purring our praises. Telling you how good you were doing, taking his fingers so well. How beautiful you looked like this, how he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight. And for you to come undone, allowing yourself to feel euphoria and grant him the chance to see it.

Who were you to deny such a tempting offer?

You were such a sight to behold. The way your body trembled, legs buckling as they struggled to hold your weight, hips unable to stop jerking away from his touch by still trying to keep the beautiful friction all the same. The way you cried out his name, unable to stop chanting it as you tried to breathe at the same time.

Hanta couldn’t help but push you down on your back, to hover over you as you tried to gain some semblance of thought once more. Hastily unrobbing himself, hissing when his cock was freed; having to take a deep breath and he stroked himself a few times before placing the blunt head at your leaking entrance.

“W-wait!” Your mind snapped you back into reality so quickly, you almost felt lightheaded “Hanta please wait!”

“For what?” He panted, hands gripping under your knees to lift your legs higher, “You are ready for me, my sweetest, and this will finally make all the unpleasant feelings disappear.”

“M’afraid!” You whimpered out, feeling the entirety of his length move between your folds as if to try and entice you once more; and the heat within you was proof it was working “Afraid it will hurt”

“You need not worry,” He purred, thumb rubbing little circles by your knees as he drank in the sight of you almost folded in half; how complacent you were. “For a moment it will, but only a moment. Then it will start to feel heavenly. Trust me, for I have not lied to you yet, have I?”

You shook your head, the action saying what you wanted to say - as words were failing you. He was right, he had always been honest with you, and even now he had shown you patience and pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. So why doubt him now?

He started to sink into you, after you had asked him to do so. Hanta let out a long groan as he felt your tight walls clamp down on him, both in trying to prevent him further but also milking him for everything he had to offer, and inch by inch he carved his way into your heat.

The burn was as he claimed, painful. But once he was fully sheathed, that burn began to change from that of pain, to that of wanting pleasure. The agonizing heat that had come from nowhere was coming forth once again to consume you in its agonizing flames. 

“Hanta, please!” You cry out, hands reaching out to grip where his sat on your legs “Please move! Make this feeling go away!”

He was never one to say no to you. He nodded his head, taking a shaky breath, before slowly moving his hips; taking his length almost completely out of your weeping cunt, before pressing it back into you. Watching your face carefully to see if any discomfort could be found.

When your pinched brows started to relax, your breathing changing from pained chirps into those sweet breathy moans, and when you start to cling to him once more - nails finding purchase into the skin on his arms - does he pick up the pace.

Though, Hanta knows he will not last much longer, not when your warm heat clings to him so tightly, begging him to claim what is rightfully his and paint your pretty cunt white with his seed; he knows he must first have you cum around him. To selfishly feel your messy cunt spasm around him like it has never done before.

He brings one of his hands from where it was placed on your knee downwards to your bundle of nerves, moaning when he feels you instantly tighten around him. 

“Come on, my sweet love” He pants, hand rubbing messy, uncoordinated, circles upon it “Let go for me, please? Trust in your god, and let that coil within you snap. Make a mess of the both of us.”

You keen and whine, the pressure building to an almost painful level within you. Though the dam finally breaks when you felt his length hit a particularly sweet spot within you, one that had you seeing stars. Your back arched, as you felt your breath hitch in your throat; unable to make any noise as your mind and body ascended to that plane of euphoria once more.

Hanta could not help but follow suit. Only a few messy thrusts and he stills inside you, his grinding up against the swell of your thighs as he moans; painting your insides with his seed - finally claiming you, completely, as his own. After regaining his breathing, though not fully, and placing your legs back down; he starts to pull out of you. 

“No please!” You cry out, eyes turning glassy as you wrap your arms and legs around him once more “Stay with me please! I don’t want you to go!”

“I am not going anywhere, I promise” He smiled gently down at you, tucking your head under his chin as he pulled you to lay atop of him.

Hanta watched your breathing, watching you try and calm down. He cannot blame you for being so emotional, after all the highs the aphrodisiac gives are much stronger than anything you have ever been used to. 

He smirks to himself when he sees your breathing finally began to even out, sleep over-taking you in its grasp. For now, he finally has you right where he wants you. And now, thanks to that wonderful potion, you will never, or want to, leave him.

Much like a rose and its petals, once one is swept away by the wind it is gone; forever. You were his rose petal and he was the wind that snatched you away.

[wholoveseggs]

I know so many people are Hayley and Elijah shippers, and I don't know where you stand, but I loved Elijah and Gia the most. She not only matched him with wit and sarcasm, but I felt like she was able to get him to let loose and be more himself. Just my opinion.

I have a lottttt to say about Elijah's lovers, so I'm going to make a list and rank them, from least favorite to my number one favorite. (I left out Tatia because we don't know anything about her...)

{6} Antoinette

At first, I liked her. She brought something refreshing to Elijah's brainless lobotomized state. She’s classy, shares his refined tastes, and has this calm, collected demeanor that seems like a perfect match for him. Plus, she’s absolutely gorgeous. But then, her personal philosophy on vampires started showing, and it was all downhill. The whole "purity of the night" nonsense, the way she looks down on humans as nothing but food (fuck that). She claimed she wasn’t like her Nazi vampire family, but her actions proved otherwise. She still practiced their old prejudices and wrapped them in a veneer of elegance to make them seem acceptable. Worst of all, she manipulated Elijah. SHE KNEW WHO HE WAS THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME DIDN'T TELL HIM.

AND!!! Used it all to her advantage. She didn’t love him for who he was; she loved the blank slate he became. So yeah, fuck her, her toxic ideology, and everything she represents.

{5} Celeste

She’s fascinating and so much fun to watch. From the few crumbs we get of their relationship, it’s clear Elijah loved her deeply. Her death broke him, and you can feel the weight of that grief centuries later. But her revenge? Oh, her revenge was everything. The centuries-long scheme, the meticulous planning, the twisted way she channeled her love into hate. It’s such a good trope, and they executed it perfectly. Rewatching the first season, knowing that Sabine was Celeste all along makes it even better. The layers of their history, their unspoken connection, the tensionnnn… it’s all so good. And then there’s the ending. When he kills her, it’s devastating, satisfying, and somehow hot? (I'm unwell)

{4} Katherine Pierce

I enjoy their backstory so much. The flashbacks of Elijah and Katherine in TVD are adorable. Those scenes are filled with charm and chemistry, and you can tell Elijah truly saw her as more than just another doppelganger. He admired her fire, her resilience, and her ability to survive even in the face of unimaginable odds. There’s this undeniable magnetism between them, and their early relationship feels so genuine and heartfelt.

But unfortunately, their present-day relationship just doesn’t hold up. Maybe if we’d gotten more of it, I’d feel differently, but I can’t see them working long-term. The baggage between them is just too heavy. Elijah is eternally tied to Klaus, and Katherine has spent centuries being deeply traumatized by him. The pain and resentment she harbors toward Klaus make it impossible for her to fully trust Elijah, and Elijah being the honorable, ever-loyal brother, can never truly separate himself from Klaus. It’s a recipe for disaster.

Beyond that, Katherine’s paranoia, lies, and manipulative tendencies create even more barriers. Elijah values honesty and loyalty above all else, and while Katherine is capable of great love, her survival instincts will always come first. It’s not that she doesn’t love Elijah (I think she does, in her own way) but she’s too guarded and self-serving to let that love flourish. And Elijah, in turn, can never fully let go of his doubts about her.

It’s sad because there’s so much potential there, but the emotional wounds on both sides run too deep. Still, the sexual tension is insane, we’re talking 500 years of pent-up frustration here. Elijah would go until Katherine tapped out. Except, let’s be real…Katherine never taps out. They would’ve burned the world down in the best way, but passion can’t fix their underlying issues.

Their relationship is tragic because it’s built on what could have been.. rather than what actually is. But there is too much pain, too much mistrust, and too many unhealed wounds for them to truly work.

{3} Aya Al-Rashid

THE MISSED OPPORTUNITY OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WILL HAUNT ME FOREVER.

First of all, I love her. She’s so cool, so badass, so unapologetically ambitious, and so fucking stupidly gorgeous. Every second she’s on screen, she commands attention. The few clues we get about her and Elijah’s past relationship are SO interesting. I think their attraction to each other (beyond the obvious chemistry) stems from their shared ideologies. Aya is the only woman on this list to truly match his intelligence and his vision.

They didn’t just connect physically or emotionally; they connected intellectually. I think they fell for each other over this shared, almost idealistic belief that they could shape the world into something better. Sure, it was a fool’s errand (they were playing gods in a world that thrives on chaos) but their belief in that dream was admirable. And Aya adored him for it. She didn’t just love Elijah; she believed in him, in their shared vision, in what they could accomplish together.

And then he betrayed her. Elijah turned his back on everything they believed in, and it destroyed their relationship. Everything goes to shit after that and their love twists into bitterness and resentment. They end up on opposite sides, trying to kill each other, and it’s just such a tragic mess. There’s this constant tension between them that feels like it’s one step away from either a declaration of love or a blade to the throat. It’s raw, it’s dramatic, it’s the epitome of ‘what could have been.’

I also think her unwavering ambition and refusal to back down made her one of the most compelling women in Elijah’s life. She wasn’t content to follow his lead or play a supportive role. She was his equal, his partner… and that’s exactly why his betrayal cut so deeply for her, and why his regret feels so palpable. Their story could’ve been a fascinating exploration of love, betrayal, and the clash between idealism and reality, but we got just enough to see how incredible they could’ve been.

The missed opportunity of Aya and Elijah will forever make me scream into the void.

Oh Giaaaaa, sweet, beautiful, perfect Gia!!!!!! My only complaint about her relationship with Elijah is that it was cut way too short. It was the beginning of a great romance. She's the only one of his romantic interests to not want anything from him… not his power, not his influence, not even his protection. She loved him for exactly who he is. That’s so rare in Elijah’s life, where everyone else seems to need him to be something for them.

{2} Gia

I adore her so much. She was such a good, pure person, but not in an annoying way, she had an edge to her that made her feel real. I really enjoyed their mutual love of music and how they communicated through it. Those moments between them felt intimate and natural, like something Elijah truly needed to pull him out of the chaos of his life. It’s also worth noting that she didn’t tiptoe around him or treat him like he was above her. She teased him, challenged him, and didn’t let his whole ‘stoic nobleman act’ intimidate her. She made him feel human, something I think he desperately craved but rarely allowed himself to experience.

She was the opposite of him in so many ways, and yet she gave him what he needed most: an escape from all the darkness. I loved how he cared for her too. You could tell she brought out a softer, freer side of him, even if it was brief. I was rooting so hard for them. And her death? So shocking and so fucked up. It was a senseless, cruel loss that still makes me mad. Elijah should have stayed mad at Klaus for longer over it. Honestly, that deserved a real, lasting rift between them. What Klaus did wasn’t just unforgivable….it was a reminder that, no matter how much Elijah sacrifices for his family, Klaus will always rip away the things that bring him happiness.

(Note: I've never been able to decide between Gia or Hayley, so I'm going to go with the woman Elijah would choose.... And we allllll know who that is...)

{1} Hayley

I've seen a few posts saying they have nothing in common, but I completely disagree. They're both fiercely loyal and protective of their family, they're both very sarcastic, and they're both incredibly selfless. (Sometimes to a fault). They share this inner strength, this unshakable moral core that makes them perfect equals. Hayley isn’t intimidated by Elijah’s formality or his calculated nature, and Elijah respects Hayley’s independence and fiery personality. They challenge each other in the best ways.

And let’s talk about how she brings out the best in him. Hayley amplifies all his most admirable traits (his self-control, his honor, his loyalty) but also gives him something he’s never truly had: someone to fight for him. And Elijah gives her what she’s always needed: unwavering protection and support… the kind she never received growing up as a orphan. He respects her agency and defends her fiercely, often putting her safety and happiness above everything else. The way he looks at her… like she’s his entire world… is just *chef’s kiss*.

Their love was so beautiful, pure, and genuine. It wasn’t riddled with manipulation, lies, or selfishness. The only thing that kept them apart was outside interference (*cough* Mr. Niklaus Mikaelson *cough*), not interpersonal conflict. That’s rare in Elijah’s love life, where external drama and loyalty to his family usually ruin everything. But Hayley managed to become both for him. His heart and his family. She’s the only person in his one thousand years who did that, and it’s why I believe he loved her the most.

Her death (and his role in it) was absolutely devastating. The guilt and heartbreak shattered him. She wasn’t just someone he loved; she was his hope, his redemption, and losing her left him broken in a way he never recovered from. Their love story is one of the most tragic yet beautiful parts of the show.

[daytaker]

NightBringer Satan is a Gift.

I understand everyone has their own opinions on how good/not good NB is as a game or a story or whatever, but in my opinion, Satan's characterization is soooo enhanced by it. I know that this isn't an opinion that everyone shares, but to me, Satan felt emotionally artificial sometimes in the original game (more on that below).* He felt kind of awkward and like he wanted to connect with MC but something was blocking the kind of connection they develop with some of the other brothers. (Disclaimer: I've only done season 1 of OG, so I can't speak to how he's characterized later on. I know, I know, shame. But I'm trying my best.) Getting to see what Satan is like when he doesn't have any control over his emotions makes the stiffness and artificiality make more sense to me, and they become admirable because we get to see just how hard it is for him to get everything under control.

I think they did a really good job with the pacing of his development in NB too. Satan in Lesson 1 and Satan in Lesson 19 are different, but there isn't a moment where he suddenly starts controlling his emotions better. I think there's a lot going on behind the scenes with him as far as his emotional growth and self control are concerned.

Also let's not forget some very important things about Satan that make him, IMO, one of the most interesting characters to work with as a writer:

Satan was never an angel; he had no fall from grace.

Satan was created from Lucifer's wrath---he is literally the product of trauma and self-mutilation.

Satan is significantly younger than his brothers.

He spent the first year of his life more or less trapped in a castle with his deeply emotionally wounded brothers.

He has a deep resentment towards Lucifer that sometimes defies reason---he wishes he didn't dedicate so much of his time and energy to him, but it's basically a compulsion.

He hates his deep association with Lucifer, and he hates that he has a lot in common with him.

And these lead me to some headcanons that live rent-free in my brain every day of my life.

Satan sees himself as a reminder of the Great Celestial War and everything his brothers lost in it, including Lilith.

He is divine retribution against Lucifer for his failure, for leading his brothers to failure, for letting his sister die.

He acts as a counterbalance to Lucifer's pride by bearing the weight of the shame that Lucifer can't fully accept now that he is the Avatar of Pride. Even if Lucifer pushes it out of his mind, Satan never forgets that he failed in the worst way possible.

His biggest aspiration is to become a full and complete person outside of any association he has with Lucifer. He feels like some sort of parasitic tumor that exists only in opposition to his brother, and he wants desperately to escape that role that he feels he was born into.

Anyway, Satan is great, hail Satan, all that good stuff. Did you know I have a lot of thoughts and opinions about Satan? I know, shocking. For more of my takes here's my fic about him (on AO3).

*I think Satan almost metaphorically represents certain elements of autism---emotions that don't come out the way you intend, masking and its limitations, hyperfixations that are barely under control. In Fandom Discourse(TM) there's sometimes a level of focus on more 'cutesy' autistic traits that we find endearing in characters, like social obliviousness and gleefully indulged hyperfixations. But emotional control, emotional masking, emotional seepage, emotional artificiality---these are also real and messy and often times they aren't cute and they're uncomfortable to see in yourself or in someone else. I really don't like diagnosing characters so I'm not about to claim Satan "is" autistic, but as someone who has been called essentially 'spectrum adjacent' by doctors, I relate to the awkwardness and the desire to appear normal despite knowing you're not and emotions spilling out in ugly ways---um. That got really long and personal.

[candilee-joestar]

This took much longer than intended. I drew each of Scoria's main jobs! Here is a bit about them in lore order.

White mage- Taught some basic healing by her mother who was a well known healer in her area, White magic came most naturally to Scoria and was what she relied on in the earliest parts of her travels. Not being very physically strong, she used it almost as a crutch as she bumbled her way through the primals plaguing Eorzea, often relying on the strength of others to push her through fights. Encountering Lizzy while lost in the wilds of Gridania, she taught her some basic’s about being a conjurer. While this did help guide her, she still struggled through most encounters. She grew to resent her white magic and sought other ways to protect herself on the battle field, though, this was an uphill battle, as she had no real combat experience. It wasn’t until much later in her time on the first where she discovered the true strength of white magics, bolstered by the mass of light entering her from the flood. It was this point where she fell back in love with her roots and looked at it more as a tool in her toolbox rather than a weakness.

Red Mage- A secret love of Scoria’s was always the fights on the blood sands in Ul’dah, growing up and watching match after match with her parents. Her favorite heel, Cemi the Titan, who she’d been a long time admirer of, she became friends with and share with him her insecurities about her strength. Noticing her affinity for white magic and her total lack of strength, he felt a good stepping stone would be Red Magic and even (in a very domineering and heel-ish way, tossing it on the ground at her after besting her in combat) gifted Scoria her first rapier. Despite his non-nonchalant and demeaning disposition, the sword had clearly been hand crafted specifically for her.

She created a “Heel-Sona” for herself. Smooth and smug, dawning a set of circular, red, sunglasses (which were secretly also prescription grade as she is blind as a bat), she called herself “Drake” for her time in the coliseum. It was through this that Scoria found some ability to make her way through the dragonsong war. Touching the Eye of Nidhogg when attempting to remove it from Estinien’s body corrupted her aether with that of the wyrm’s, filling her with all his years of rage and hate. Scoria, never experiencing such feelings in this way, tried to channel it through her red mage magic, but this was not effective and often resulted in her accidentally injuring herself or her comrades.

Even after learning to channel this magic through dragoon, she still enjoyed the color it gave her aether and uses a bit of it while using her ‘Drake’ persona to give her more of an ominous glow. Dragoon- Corrupted by Nidhoggs aether, Scoria often would be doing simple tasks, sitting at home, reading the paper, and objects around her would explode in a cloud of red. She was plagued with migraines and flashes of the hate and rage of the wyrm. Visions and feelings about dragons or people she’d never met, as well as some she had, namely Estinien. After returning from Kugane and to Ala Mhigo, the problem only grew and Scoria sought out the one person who knew Nidhogg best: Estineien himself. After some long talks and begging (and some harassment from Tataru) he agreed to help her channel this rage. It was through this she grew to understand him more as a person and in turn, herself.

It was through Dragoon that Scoria finally found her true strength. It felt almost natural to her, channeling the energy of dragons and releasing it on her opponents on the battlefield. She felt swift and powerful, almost unstoppable. It was through this that she finally found a love of fighting and challenge, no longer the meek woman she once was. Her tall frame now posed to give her an advantage, having the strength to back it up.

While on the first, after being filled with so much light that she nearly became a sin eater, Nidhoggs rage and anger finally dissipated. There was so much white aether, it completely burned out any trace of him left inside her, transforming her dragoon gear and lance a brilliant white and brass color. Dancer- Scoria was never one for sexuality or showing much in the way of skin (or scales). Her parents had made it very clear from a young age how she should present herself at all times, so these desires were often suppressed, choosing to wear clothing that covered most of her body.

After marrying her husband Kahdan, she felt he did so many things for her to make her happy, she wanted to do something for him in return. Hearing about a trope of dancers in town, she went and met with them to learn more. While she didn’t gain too much in the way of sexual confidence, it did help her at least look like she did. Unable to fully commit to the relieving dresses of the other dancers, she did still find an outfit that showed off more skin than what she was used to.

Her husband, supportive as ever, purchased her an outfit in his favorite colors to wear. It was hardly clothes at all, Scoria struggled with the idea mentally of going out and being seen in something like that. Still, from time to time, as a way to help build that confidence, she would go out with him in it, completely red faced and usually hiding behind him as to not be seen. Dark Knight- Ardbert after melding with Scoria’s soul would often stay up at night talking to her. Because they were essentially a part of each other, she would confide her deepest, darkest, fears to him. Sometimes willingly, sometimes because he would find himself wandering in her dreams, unable to escape them. He realized her deep seeded fears about her own inadequacy. That she felt ill-equip to be the savior of not only his world, but her own. That she was tired of always being everyone’s hero. That she missed the days of painting in her flat with her room mate Alha, when she was no one. She even had some resentment for her friends and the common folk for relying on her so much. He helped show these subconscious thoughts to her. He brought them to the forefront, but did not shame her for it, explaining how he went through something very similar and how the hate that his own people felt for him harmed him even after his death. Ardbert guided her to his own dark knight stone, buried and gone from the eyes of others. He had her learn how to channel these dark thoughts and feelings into fighting. Taking the resentment she felt deep in her heart and turning it into a shield to protect herself and others. While these feelings never truly left, understanding them more did help. She would talk more openly about these problems with those she loved and found that she had to carry much less burden that way, literally and figuratively.

Island Sanctuary- No real story here, outside of Im pretty sure this is where she eventually retires. I just really like this glam.

[muffinlovingbirb]

Dungeon Meshi Octopath Travellers AU

(art by u/gentleowl1 from reddit)

Laios the Hunter - For Exploration

The son of a village chief, with insatiable appetite for monsters. Equipped with hunting skills and a hunting hound from his family, he seeks to explore the world, see what it have to offer.

Falin the Cleric - For Reparation

A Cleric separated from her beloved brother since she was young. Falin was able to reunite with her brother, albeit at the cost of abandoning her pilgrimage. Now, Aelfric's flames are starting to dim, and Falin starts her quest to finish what she had forgo times ago

Marcille the Scholar - For Longevity

A half-elf with irregular aging, Marcille struggles to find companions that would live for as long as her. Deeply afraid of being abandoned by her compatriots, Marcille starts on her quest to extend the lifespan of other races, no matter what route she must go through to achieve it.

Chilchuck the Thief - For Protection

A half-foot lockpicker who is deceived when he was but a novice adventurer. Now that he is married and have three daughters, chilchuck starts his journey to bend the system, so that half-foot will enjoy more rights and protection. With his half-foot guild established, he went on a quest to end half-foot abuse.

Senshi the Apothecary - For Education

A dwarf who went with an adventuring party exploring a dungeon, only to be trapped within the deepest floors. As Senshi explored the dungeons, he is able to learn and admire the delicate balance of Ecosystem within the dungeon itself. As Senshi arrived at the higher floors, he noticed adventurers lacking any regard to the ecosystem, and took it upon himself to educate people, one at a time.

Namari the Merchant - For Repayment

Namari's father left her with a significant about of debt, one that he will never repay. Eventually, Namari was forced to repay the debt and exiled from her home town until she can repay every cent of the debt, with interest. Now, Namari takes on merchantry to gather the coins she needs.

Toshiro the Warrior - For Succession

The prince of the eastern empire, Toshiro is only one of nearly 50 heirs to the throne, and only one can succeed the emperor for the throne. Equipped with a blade, Toshiro travels the many continents, hoping to find a treasure that he can use to win the throne.

Izutsumi the Dancer - For Liberation

A beastling creates through unethical experimentation and sold to a traveling performance troupe to be an attraction lead izutsumi to harbor deep resentments and a great craving for freedom. Finding an opportunity to escape, izutsumi broke out of her cage and now try to find a place where she can be truly free.

[savagemasculinity]

In your experience, what are some of the most meaningful ways a woman can support and empower a man in his masculinity, both in everyday life and in a relationship? Conversely, what are common behaviors or attitudes that unintentionally (or intentionally) make a man feel emasculated? I’d love to hear perspectives on how women can cultivate an environment where men feel strong, respected, and confident in their role as providers and protectors.

I really appreciate this ask.

This is a complicated subject that requires accountability from both the man and the woman. I'll try to distill things down so this doesn't become overly verbose.

Men thrive on respect, appreciation, and purpose. Aimlessness and tedium will bog down his spirit and/or turn him into a frustrated and bored animal. That doesn't mean he shouldn't have to deal with a certain amount of tedium, mind. Give him a purpose, give him appreciation for fulfilling that purpose, and show respect for his devotion to his purpose. His purpose isn't just You. It's his kids, his home and the maintenance thereof, it's the provision and protection of what he holds dear. These are very tangible things that drive him. He may not always be warm, happy, or peaceful, but he will have a deep joy that cannot be shaken when things go awry. Further, give him the space to make decisions on his own. Give him the space to set the course for his family. That doesn't mean going along with whatever he says, but it does mean that you don't judge him harshly for his missteps. It means that you work with him as the wind in his sails, not against him as an adversary. Too often, I've found my decisions called into question by an adversary rather than the other half of my conscience. Aim to be the latter. And if he makes a stupid decision, just let him. Let him learn on his own without being his parent-figure. I can tell you from personal experience that if you take the position of "I know better than you, listen to me, don't piss me off," you will stifle his growth as a man.

And he will be growing continually into a better man on a daily basis, unless that growth is stymied. Men are varied and complex, and no two men will grow the same way. Some are bold and brash and will charge headlong into whatever their purpose is, often with no small amount of chaos in their wake, but over time that bold and brash behavior will temper into decisive, efficient force. Others will be very calculating and cold with their pursuits, taking their time to map each step toward victory. Both men will grow into decisive, efficient, and strong doers of deeds, so long as they don't have someone hassling their every step along the way. We never stop learning, and we never stop growing, unless something forces us to stop, or strangles our growth.

This, I find, is more common than most people would realize. It is only in men who have supportive, self-assured, and patient wives that I have ever seen the intrepid nature born of healthy masculinity. They seize their goals, build lives that are the envy of their peers, and enjoy the fruits of their struggles to the fullest. Those with nagging, back-biting, oppressive wives become angry, frustrated, unfulfilled, and, at times, loathesome men.

So if you want to create space for their masculinity to grow into something admirable and Manly, give him space to do so. Respect him. Appreciate him. Vocally.

If you want to strangle his masculinity and reduce him to an angry and resentful shadow of who he could be, take those things away from him.

[bitchywitchyvibes666]

Lord Hephaestus

The gods had been disgusted with him from the moment his divine existence was brought onto this world, Athena downright cruel in the way she spoke of what would come to be known as the God of fire. Even his own mother, Khione: the goddess of snow, had squeezed her eyes closed in prayer as she looked on at the burnt flesh that riddled the young God. 

When he had become of age his father had cast him from Olympus in disgust, no longer willing to deal with the disfigured, short tempered fire God. The God had let the heavens know of his wrath when he was forced to settle down among mortals to grant his followers wishes. He become known to be a God full of anger and resentment, if you wanted someone to burn then he was your God. He angered the Gods with his reckless and harsh punishments, making it known that he was fully willing to burn the world they created. 

Dabi was used to people barging their way into his temple, voices loud and full of anger demanding he seek out to destroy someone or something. Demanding a raging fire to seek out the person the mortals had decided their anger was most deserving of, Dabi always watched with the same sickening smirk and a fully willing nature to destroy anything in the means of angering the other Gods. 

That’s why he was more than a little surprised when you had wandered into his temple, eyes wide and doe like as you looked around in fascination. Your hands clutched a small woven basket close to you, filled with different fruits, oils and flowers as you took more shy almost shaky steps into the temple. 

Cold, glaring blue eyes followed your every move as you finally stopped before his statute, waiting for your pretty shining lips to curl up in disgust as you gazed at the marble that formed his disfigured face and body. He waited for it but it never came, your eyes stayed gleaming with admiration and warmth as you gazed up at it, head tilted to the side as your lips pulled into the softest sweetest smile he’d ever seen. 

His head tilted slight to the side, raven hair falling over his scarred cheek as he watched one of your smaller hands let go of the basket and reach out to trace one of the burns carved into the marble chest, his chest flexing at the touch like you were actually touching him. Your touch was delicate and almost...loving as you gently trailed one of your fingers over the edge of the burn on his stomach. Your eyes followed your movements with such conviction like this was your entire purpose, you touched his stature so softly like he was made of glass. 

He watched as your perfect manicured nails gently follow one of the carved stables as your face changed. His breathing became baited as he waited for you to finally be disgusted with him, only to watch the worry fill your beautiful eyes as your lips pulled into a small pout. 

Everything Dabi had fell apart as he heard the words “oh my baby, my poor baby” leave your lip gloss covered lips. It was such a simple statement, a statement that should of sent so much anger through with just how fucking pompous it was but when she said it with nothing but pure untainted care...he just couldn’t stop the feeling that wrecked through his heart. 

His breathing could probably be heard from Olympus as he leaned closer, desperate to get closer to you as you took a small step back. His heart raced like a wild animal, he was fully willing to grab you if you tired to leave at that point, he watched as you innocently held up your little basket. Your face now shining with warmth and happiness as your sweet, honeyed voice filled his ears and danced in his mind. 

“I tried really hard to bring you things that you would like my Lord but the scriptures of you are very limited so I hope I at least brought one thing you’d enjoy” 

Fuck, the way you looked up at his stature really did something to him, your eyes large and innocent and if it wasn’t just downright sinful the way you called him your lord. He teeth broke apart his lower lip as he watched you gently place everything at the alter that sat by his feet, loving the way you looked on your knees before him. Fuck may his father smite him if he wasn’t thinking about filling your mouth with something less than angelic. 

Dabi had never been so close to anything that could be considered this angelic because Gods know that none of them are. He knew the moment that your clueless self had decided to spare a modicum of kindness to someone like him that one way or another you would end up in his arms, destined to burn the world with him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

19 days, 6 hours and 48 minutes it had been since Dabi first saw you. 19 days, 6 hours and 48 minutes since he decided that you belonged to him and 19 days, 6 hours and 48 minutes since Dabi had decided to keep a close eye on you. 

He watched with a fury like no other as you went about your life when you weren’t visiting him, conversing with other people when all you should be doing was sitting pretty at his feet, taking his cock in any hole he desired whenever he told you too.  He hated whenever he saw you talking to another mortal but especially men, no one could taint the only right thing the Gods had done...no one but him of course. 

It had been another one of those times where he had watched you converse with another mortal man before deciding to make your way home. Cute little heels making the sweetest sound as you skipped into the darkened ally way, pretty head not even aware of the danger that you had just put yourself in. Dress flowing in the light breeze as you skipped down into the darkness, humming a sweet little tune to yourself. 

All it took was a moment, nothing more than a single moment of jealousy, for Dabi to make his choice before he was slamming his fist into the back of your head and catching your falling body, scarred lips whispering the quietest apologies into your ear. Deep whispers of “I’m sorry baby, it had to be done”.  His hearting fighting between racing at the sight he caught of your panties and the feeling of your skin rubbing lightly against his clothes or the calm that washed over him at the feeling of finally having you in his arms. 

Blue eyes almost lightening up at the sight of your peaceful face as you laid in his arms but he picked you up, a certain thought flying through his mind as he held you like a bride and made his way back to his temple. Scarred hands shaking lightly as they held you, fingers digging into your skin like if he loosened his grip then you would disappear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi was never know for his patience or for being a God of much faith so it didn’t faze him when his patience wore thin and he could no longer keep his hands to himself, completely fed up with waiting for you to wake up. Callous fingers gently trailing their way over the smooth, plush skin of your leg as blue eyes trained on your face for any sign of movement. His touch only just ghosting over your skin, not wanting you to wake up so soon into his fun.

His movements soon getting bolder when he saw how peacefully you slept on even in the wake of his touch, his fingers trailing higher up your leg until they reached the softness of your thick inner thigh. Dabi couldn’t hold back the smirk that took over his lips as he moved his fingers higher under the skirt of your dress, his middle finger moving out to gently trace the edge of your panties. He rolled his shoulders as the lace tickled the tip of his finger before he moved his finger to the middle of your panties, gently pushing the fabric into your slit as he indulged in the feeling of you. 

Dabi didn’t care about much but right now he cared very much about how he was gently rubbing his middle finger over your pussy, gently playing with your clit as you slept on completely unaware of the depraved man having his way with you. 

Dabi let out a sharp intake of breath before moving away from you as you shifted in your sleep, body finally reacting to his touch. He waited with baited breath for any sign you had woken up before his shoulders sagged in relief as you just kept sleeping. Dabi watched as you parted your legs further in your sleep, now fully on your back and completely spread out just for him. Dabi waited for another moment before a gentle thud filled the room as he dropped to his knees, handing finding themselves hocking the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of the bed, legs now resting on his shoulders as he came faced to face with pretty purple of your lace panties.

His pierced tongue peeking out and running across his bottom lip as he looked at the lace that covered your sweet cunt from his hungry gaze. He didn’t even bother to try to stop himself as he moved a hand off of your thigh, moving it back to your cunt so he could move your underwear to the side. He could feel his mouth starting to water at the sheer sight of your perfect cunt, so pretty and sweet looking, he couldn’t stop his mind for wondering if you tasted as sweet as you looked. 

Dabi glanced up at your sleeping face before deciding that there was no harm in him tasting what belonged to him. Dabi almost moaned out loud the moment the tip of his tongue touched your cunt, spreading your lips apart and going straight for your little clit. He savoured every single moan and whimper that left your pretty lips as he focused his attention on your clit, eyes closing slightly in pleasure at finally being between your thighs. This was truly the closest to heaven the young God would ever get. 

Dabi’s eyes flew open the moment he heard a confused whimper as small hands tried to push his head away. He tightened his grip on your thighs as you tried to shuffle away from the strange man between your legs, pulling away from your cunt long enough to shush you before going right back to work. Dabi relished in the sounds you made when he sucked your clit into his mouth, embarrassed and confused by the orgasm that washed over you and that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. 

He pulled away with a delish smirked as he moved your legs from his shoulders to his waist as he moved to stand between your legs, blue eyes looking down at your scared little face as your mind raced to try to work all of this out. A scarred hand made its way to hold your cheek as he leaned down to place a surprisingly sweet kiss to your lips, leaving the taste of you behind as he whisper.. 

“It’s okay little one, your Lord is gonna make you feel so fucking good” 

[elementroar]

A.B.A is an experimental clone of the real Dr. Paracelsus (fan-theory)

(I made the distinction in the title but to be clear - I mean Paracelsus her creator, not Paracelsus we all know and love but the one A.B.A renamed him after. To differentiate, I'm referring to them as Dr. Paracelsus)

So, this might not be common knowledge watching Guilty Gear from the outside, but there's actually two Asukas currently 'active' in STRIVE - the original Asuka R. Kreutz and his clone Asuka R♯. In fact, it's the clone that's the main playable character, and the arcade mode is from the clone's perspective as he is his own character separate from the real Asuka.

Asuka R# was created based on Asuka admiring the construction of the Valentine sisters, and the "Frasco specimen" and creating his own clone based on that research. The 'Frasco specimen' is currently assumed to be referring to A.B.A (and was potentially a teaser for A.B.A's eventual inclusion into the game at that point in time).

Asuka (R#): No? Well, I beg to differ. Otherwise… I might never learn why you created me. Asuka: …Um, well… About that. The Valentine sisters, formed by the Universal Will, were perfect beings. I hadn’t seen such immaculate synthetic life since the Frasco specimen. Asuka (R#): So you wanted to try it for yourself. At least you're honest... if ethically bankrupt. Asuka: Let me guess... Do you resent me? Asuka (R#): No need to worry about that. Unless you resent yourself. Now, why don’t we kill a little more time?

What if I tell you there aren't just multiple examples of artificial lifeforms like A.B.A that are all clones of someone, but even in the current official Guilty Gear World entry for 'Homunculus', it's explicitly mentioned there are multiple homunculi in the world and that A.B.A could have 'siblings'?

All the Valentine sisters are clones of the original Aria Hale. So everyone here is technically, on some level, genetically the same person:

And R# is also a near identical clone of Asuka, down to possessing the same memories and experiences but programmed by Asuka to be more socially active than he really is, and also to lack a moral compass (which doesn't seem like a good idea but ok).

So if A.B.A is a similar experiment to the two examples we know, then it follows she is likely an experiment into synthetic clones as well.

And then there's the official entry under "Homunculus" in the offiical Guilty Gear World database (link goes to the online wiki copy of the entry).

That's right, there's confirmation there's multiple homunculi out there, with it explicitly hinted that A.B.A is simply the only one to appear in the games "so far". And either they are going to be unique homunculi, or possibly 'clones' of/like A.B.A that vary like the Valentine sisters do.

And this may be a superficial design coincidence, but original Asuka's eyes are golden while his clone R#'s eyes are green, and quite a similar if not the exact same shade as A.B.A's

But note that the original Aria's eye color was green, and her four clones all have very different eye colors (Elphelt's seems close but hers is actually light blue). It prolly does mean that even when making a near-identical clone like Asuka did with R#, the clone's eye color being different is one of the main differences that appear.

And this leads back to my previous theory that Dr. Paracelsus could be revealed to actually be a woman, and that A.B.A is her genetic clone. As the name 'Paracelsus' is actually a made-up name that's a portmanteau of the words 'para' (meaning 'beyond') and the name 'Celsus' and just meant 'beyond Celsus' and was the historical alchemist's way of dissing another alchemist called Celsus. So there's no inherent gender related to the name 'Paracelsus', and can be a nickname for a woman alchemist/scientist.

This would also help explain all the perfectly sized shorts that A.B.A found around Frasco in the first place to wear. They could belong to her 'mother' who would be exactly the same size as her.

I'm rooting for a future introduction of an older woman scientist that gets to be revealed as A.B.A's creator, because I think the visual would be so cool. Cos her 'mother' would be her but aged normally. And can you imagine if Dr. Paracelsus treats Paracelsus as her son-in-law!?

[thatbadadvice]

Help! I Am Entitled To Do A Bone!

The Ethicist, New York Times, 14 October 2023:

My wife became pregnant soon after we met, when our relationship was “fluid” and non-monogamous. We agreed to raise the child together and, at my urging, to have an open relationship. However, our relationship since has been monogamous. My wife was injured during the birth of our second child and now finds sex painful and avoids it. (We had a terrific sex life before the injury.) When I broached the topic of having other partners and reminded her of our agreement to have an open relationship, she became irritated and said that having kids changed things. Subsequent discussions resulted in a stalemate. I very much enjoy my wife’s company and love her and our two kids. I have no intention of separating from my family. Nonetheless, I harbor resentments that my wife reneged on her commitment to me, and this, together with the lack of sex, is creating a wedge between us. Would it be ethical to take a mistress, given her earlier promise, and if so, can I do this discreetly so as to avoid tension and perhaps divorce? Or should I tell her I am planning to pursue this course of action? Or does the inherent risk of infidelity mean I should accept near-celibacy indefinitely? — Name Withheld

Dear Name Withheld,

The restraint with which you signed yourself "name withheld" rather than the more accurate "big fun deep-dicking from which I have been blocked by my hateful bitch wife" is admirable in the extreme. You are a credit to your gender, sir.

But on to the matter at hand, specifically, your hand, to which you have been relegated in lieu of the aforementioned big fun deep-dicking. Your wife waited to drop the vicious bomb of possession upon you until she had roped you, an unwitting fancy-free man of leisure (entitled to all the benefits thereof indefinitely and in perpetuity), into marriage and fatherhood of not one but two children — children you could have in no way have known would result from your consistently and entirely monogamous coupling over many years, and moreover, could never have expected would complicate the terms of the thing y'all talked about one time about boning other randos?? And now this self-interested harpy dares to refuse to you the clear promise of sex with absolutely anyone other than her at any time ever, which she made and guaranteed in surety after you'd been fucking for a minute? A promise you had in theory enjoyed by writ and at length in your mind based on a conversation y'all had years ago before the entire terms and nature of your relationship changed in deep and meaningful ways to literally the one other person involved in said relationship, to wit, the worst person?

A bait-and-switch of the kind your cruel and fickle wife has pulled on you cannot, should not, be tolerated. Are you — is any man, really — obligated to just not fuck his wife in addition to whoever else he wants to fuck ever? Just because she "finds sex painful"? Sex isn't painful for you, and doesn't that matter just a little bit more? Isn't it her job to have kind of a bad time so that you can have a good time? Isn't that what it is to be a woman and a mother? And she just casually eschews her duty to put up with whatever the fuck you propose? Because WHY? Because "having kids changes things"? I ask you: changes things for who? For the person who carried children in her body and experienced deep and lasting personal and physical injury? Or for you, the person who matters most?

It seems your wife has an unfortunately topsy-turvy view of partnership, one in which she believes two individuals are allowed to dictate the terms of a relationship that may change over time due to a variety of mitigating factors that one or both of you may or may not have control over. Would that she realized that her sexual needs are not merely incidental to yours, but actively irrelevant. If only she would simply give you that one, small thing (in addition to two children).

But alas, she seems sadly fixated on her own needs to the exclusion of the fact that you would like to do a bone upon her or frankly anyone, you are not picky, as long as she doesn't leave you or take your children away or do anything really to upset the world as you would like it to be, which is a classically controlling woman-type thing that women do because they are so self-involved.

Obviously you're really grappling with the profound ethical implications of lying to your wife about taking a mistress, and you're trying to find literally any other solution to just finding a girlfriend and fucking the shit out of her and hoping your wife doesn't find out. That's clearly the very last thing you want. But since you've shown such magnanimous restraint in not doing so, you probably should just do it and see what happens, it'll probably all be totally fine! And if it isn't, eh, idk? Were you supposed to just survive on beejays and handies forever? You tried your very best not to! And that's what will matter most to your children in the end.

[endlesscolddreams]

Why don't you ship usuk?

Because there are many types of love, and I honestly think familial love applies much better here.

That is not to say I don’t understand why one ships them or that they don’t fit, because that would be a lie. They are similar and different in equal measures, which makes them a great pair, and the gloomy vs. sunshine trope is appealing, but I can’t really ship them because there is a certain unconditional love between them that’s familial and not romantic in my opinion.

Familial bonds are foundational, providing a sense of security, identity, and history. Romantic bonds are more fluid, passionate, and dynamic, built on mutual attraction and emotional connection. Romantic love can be fleeting, can come and go, can destroy you and resent someone so much you want to destroy them because of the risks of change and heartbreak, but only a familial bond is enduring and eternal despite conflict or distance.

Take it with a grain of salt because, and I will repeat, this is just my opinion, and I’m sure someone must have put this into better words before, but I never talked about it, and I feel like developing this question.

America is the boy who grew up admiring England, doing everything to please, and while England felt this huge unconditional love for him because he was his boy—the best thing that ever happened to him really—he is a messy person who has trouble opening up, and each time he tried he would say the wrong thing or just dismiss America entirely. He was a strong empire with bigger problems at home, many places to be from one corner of the world to the other, and his guilt was enormous because he could see that America was just like him: a small, unruly thing who was lonely and unprepared, which meant toughening him up. It was exactly what made him become what England became, but obviously the situation is much different, times are different, and America may have many similarities to him on the surface, but deep down he is a completely different person.

(Sidenote: I headcanon that his avoidant and anxious attachment style is more like Francis than like England's avoidant tsundere, which makes Arthur astonished and completely out of his depth. Another thing to take into account is that, just like Francis, America is his own person and much more resilient than England, something England doesn't fully understand. England is sensible, prone to hold onto traditions since they give him control, and his youth was such a mess he was never his own person and suffers from a chronic identity and woes. 

Not that England shows that side of him; like all nations, his mask was carefully built to make him look unfeeling and cold, a preventive measure that creates a distance that is very common between parents and children. It's very difficult to read old nations properly; they have a flair for theatrics and meticulous rules and etiquette that only they still follow. America doesn't understand it, but he's not interested in knowing it either since he willingly prefers to be seen as a fool, his own facade, and basically ignores it, which only increases that distance. 

France uses his dramatic nature to overexpose and act out emotions that blatantly hide his real feelings, and I get the feeling that sometimes Alfred does that just to infuriate England.)

Now, America indeed needed to get rid of England, not only for his country but because of Arthur himself.

Arthur, the person, was emotionally dependent on him. He controlled everything to fuel up that dependency, and Alfred was finally enlightened enough to see that while he loved his father figure he was being caged in. He is his own man; he is strong enough, and he aims higher than he’s allowed to, so there is only one solution: freedom.

France plays a huge part in this by telling him about the days of his own captivity, days spent locked in palaces, forced to be the ideal 'representative' his bosses dreamed of a nation like him when all he wanted was to be a pirate like Spain, a missionary travelling the world, maybe dress prettily like he always loved without being forced to forgo certain colours or fashion, and most important of all: mingle with his lovely humans instead of sitting in his gilded cage. France is petty, and his resentment fuelled his words, but at the same time he saw promise in America, even if that promise was mainly to undermine and distract England from his goals.

(I will always hc that Francis dreamed of a world in his image and truly thought that having it all would bring peace and beauty for all these unfortunate souls who are less civilised.)

I digress here, but America looked up to France too because while England likes to trash talk his enemy, he respects him and even admires certain parts of him, which led to America's willingness to meet the blasted frog who makes England so angry he shakes like a flustered puppy.

This is to say that the fallout of the relationship between father and son was a mess because they wouldn't communicate. It doesn't mean the fallout wasn't needed—far from it. England was always too proud to back down, unwilling to conceive that he was not completely right and righteous in what he did for America because ultimately he was doing his best and loved him more than anything else.

But as soon as the war was over, they sat together and made new agreements that completely neglected all the others who helped America in the war. True story, it's like the kid who finally leaves home yet needs the parents help to make his new house presentable and functional. I imagine England would give him a proper trousseau, something he never gave anyone else because this was his heir and greatest hope/disappointment.

Still, there was a strain. Arthur was truly hurt, felt abandoned, and blamed everyone and himself for what happened, and Alfred was also hurt because all he wanted was Arthur’s support yet all he got was stiflement.

I think Alfred was always sure of Arthur’s love (unlike Matthew with Francis), but because Arthur can’t properly show it in a reasonable way (everyone has different needs and Alfred’s love languages are way different than Arthur’s in the end), their relationship was strained for that wretched century. It didn't’ help that Arthur was still trying to meddle in his business when he was growing and proving himself. Most of all, Alfred wanted to impress and show the world his valour, something Arthur didn’t think he needed to do because his worth was always very clear to him.

They only really begin speaking when they are forced together by the wars. The first one showed them how similar their interests and ways of working are, which opened them a little for proper communication, and the second really made them sit down and talk because enough is enough and America is a superpower in his own right and England is not as mighty as he once was, but he is still respected and finally begins to learn how to let Alfred go and trusts him to come back safe.

Nowadays, they're more in tune than not. England reluctantly let's America do his thing despite being the first to run across the world just to point out he warned him as he bakes him a treat (he's a lovely baker), and America, despite it all, keeps sneakily asking for England's advice because he's old and lived too long, and America secretly will always look up to him as an example and moral compass.

The thing with love and parents is that the relationship will never be easy.

You don't really communicate; the parents always see you as a small kid who keeps fucking up; you see them as obsolete fools who try to keep relevant despite the world being completely different, yet you still love each other and behave a lot like one another despite it all.

Alfred truly resembles Arthur in certain things (just ask Russia who will tell that he did the same thing during both the great game with England and the cold war with America, or maybe France, who has a certain fondness for America because he reminds him of the enemy across the channel. You can even ask China, who will tell his memory, sometimes mixes them both together, greedy children who can't play nice and enjoy disturbing his sleep. The only ones who refuse to see the semblance are indeed Arthur and Alfred, yet I think Alfred is more aware of it than Arthur, king of denial) and is almost a truly different version of England in others, but in the end it's pretty much clear that they’re related, or at least love each other unconditionally in a way a romantic love would destroy.