#but from sacrifice and understanding and knowledge

[utilitycaster]

I think the idea of Bells Hells making the moral decision - or even making the best decision in the face of no good options - falls apart when you realize that there's absolutely no coherent "why" behind it and not much more of a "what".

Why go in to release Predathos? Well, someone worse might do it. Ok, but why would it be worse if someone worse did it? If Predathos can't be controlled, or if the act that Ludinus wished Predathos to do, of eating the gods, is good, then why does it matter who releases it. And the party went in without knowledge of whether to control it, so that was just a wild-ass guess. It might even be a correct one; but you cannot ascribe morality towards "stumbling through a door and hitting on the right answer by accident."

That doesn't even go into the fact that I think Bells Hells have done, if I may, a wretched job of trying to understand what the people want. What does the person on the street in Jrusar want? Bassuras? Whitestone? I think we have an idea, honestly, of what Zephrah wants. What does the Feywild want? Sure, the Accord is the people in power speaking for their respective cities, countries, and tribes, and I'm even open to the possibility that they don't actually have those groups' interests in mind though to make a blanket statement that that's the case is, as most blanket statements are, suspect. Did Bells Hells talk to anyone though? What do the other people in the Silken Squall think? What about the Clovis Concord, or Uthodurn, or the Dynasty? Oh, Bells Hells aren't from there and haven't spoken to anyone? That's so interesting that they're making a choice on their behalf, or rather, it would be, if they were ever making a choice. And, as stated, I don't even think most of them know what people where they are from want. I really don't think most of them know what they want.

Why did they stop Liliana from broadcasting? What did this achieve? If Liliana is a better person than Ludinus wouldn't it have been better for her to be the vessel? All this did was almost kill her and give Ludinus a reason to take her power himself.

Usually when a decision is incredibly difficult, there is, at least, an understanding of a desired outcome - for example, the issue of how to address climate change is incredibly complex and there are no options that don't require extensive and difficult change and sacrifice. But we know why this is important and what we want the result to be. What world do Bells Hells want to make? Literally, what do they want? If the issue was always that Predathos was a dangerous entity regardless of who wielded it that needed to be destroyed then anything to do with the gods is irrelevant, and if the issue was "the gods have the world under their thumb" then again, why even put Liliana at further risk and why kill Ludinus? The fact that we can't tell which it is and the fact that they can't tell is pretty, well, telling. And if your point is "I don't know if it's better to kill Predathos permanently or to have it eat the gods" then that brings it back to the impossibility of saying whether Bells Hells are "good" for their lack of choice. Understandable in their hesitation, at best; less forgivable when they decided to debate amongst themselves endlessly and ask precious few of the people they claim to speak for.

[earthlybeam]

Just some random headcanons i think that fit Glorfindel (my opinion)

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Glorfindel version below.

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

What's their love language? Glorfindel’s love language is profoundly intertwined with physical touch and acts of service. He is a being of quiet depth and warmth, and for him, love is best expressed through meaningful, intimate gestures rather than grandiose declarations. He conveys his affection in subtle yet deeply comforting ways—whether it’s gently holding hands as they walk through serene forests, or offering a gentle brush of his fingers across their arm, Glorfindel’s touch is tender, always a reminder of the bond they share. His hand resting on their shoulder or a quiet touch on the back is a silent declaration of support and affection that speaks louder than words ever could.

When the weight of the world feels heavy, Glorfindel finds a deep sense of peace in the simple act of resting his head on their shoulder or pulling them into a quiet embrace. In those moments, the world fades away and only the closeness between them remains. These quiet hugs aren’t rushed—they are long, filled with a tenderness that speaks of protection, comfort, and unwavering love. For Glorfindel, the act of simply being together in these moments, without the need to speak, is when he feels most at peace, surrounded by the warmth of his significant other. He cherishes the stillness and the peace that physical proximity brings. Whether they’re sitting together by a fire or sharing a cup of tea on a calm afternoon, these moments are treasures to him. Glorfindel enjoys the soft silence between them, where their love doesn’t need words but is felt deeply in the shared space. His joy lies in these serene, intimate moments that may seem simple, but are the foundation of his connection to them. He is content in the knowledge that his presence is all that is needed to make them feel cherished and loved.

In addition to his love for physical closeness, acts of service are central to how Glorfindel expresses his care. His devotion is shown through actions that lighten his partner’s burdens. When they are unwell, or simply worn from the trials of life, Glorfindel will step in with a quiet but determined effort to care for them. He might cook a nourishing meal, ensuring every dish is prepared with care, or bring them the herbs they need to heal. He’ll never hesitate to run errands for them, even if it means putting aside his own responsibilities. His attention to detail in these acts demonstrates his love—every task is an opportunity to show his commitment, his unwavering desire to make their lives easier, more comfortable. Glorfindel’s love is not just about the big moments, but also about the consistent, everyday ways he cares for his partner. If they are overwhelmed by the weight of their tasks or responsibilities, Glorfindel will take it upon himself to shoulder some of that burden, showing his love through quiet sacrifice. Whether it’s taking on a physical task or simply offering his presence, he seeks to be a steady, reliable force in their life. For Glorfindel, the essence of love lies in physical closeness and selfless acts of service. These gestures, though simple, are his truest form of devotion—his constant desire to be there for his loved one, not just in moments of joy, but in the quieter, more vulnerable times as well. He doesn’t need to speak of his love; it is woven into every touch, every thoughtful action, every quiet moment they share together. His love is steady, unwavering, and constant—a beautiful reflection of his deep emotional connection to them.

How do they view their significant other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.? To Glorfindel, his significant other is everything—they are not only the light in his life, but also his best friend and his greatest source of joy. They are the one person who sees and understands him in a way no one else does. In their presence, the weight of his many responsibilities feels a little lighter, and the world—often filled with battle, duty, and sorrow—becomes a little more peaceful. They bring balance to his life, offering a sense of stability and warmth that soothes his soul. Glorfindel doesn’t see his partner as simply someone to share his love with, but rather as his confidante, his equal, and his most trusted ally. He holds them in the highest regard, admiring their strength, wisdom, and kindness. They are not just a companion in the sense of being with him through the mundane, but someone who has a deep impact on his spirit—someone whose presence makes him feel complete. In moments of stillness or exhaustion, they are the one person he seeks, for they are his refuge, the place where he feels truly at ease.

He views them as a force of good in his life and the world. His love for them comes from more than just attraction or affection—it is rooted in profound respect and admiration for who they are as an individual. Glorfindel sees in them the qualities he himself holds dear: courage, kindness, wisdom, and a fierce sense of justice. They are his greatest inspiration, constantly reminding him of why he fights—to protect not only the world but also the love they share. They are the anchor in his life, the person who makes him feel that all the sacrifices and struggles he faces are worthwhile. In Glorfindel’s eyes, his partner is not just someone to cherish—they are the one thing that gives him a sense of hope and peace in an often chaotic and burdensome world. They are the calm in the storm, the one he trusts with his heart, and the person he knows he can rely on no matter what life throws at him. He holds their bond with the deepest reverence, knowing that in them, he has found his home and his truest companion.

How do they act when falling out of love? Glorfindel’s love is steadfast, deeply rooted in his character, and he rarely falls out of love easily. His devotion to those he cares for is unwavering, and the idea of falling out of love is something he would resist with all his might. However, if he did find himself in a situation where his feelings began to shift, the change would be a slow, quiet process. Rather than a sudden, dramatic shift, he would become more reserved and withdrawn over time, carefully distancing himself without making a scene. His usually exuberant nature would fade as he focused more on the practical aspects of their relationship—discussing matters with a sense of detachment, perhaps even making small talk that feels more formal than familiar. Though Glorfindel’s protective instincts would remain strong, he would begin to withdraw emotionally, sensing that his presence might be more of a burden than a comfort. He would give his partner the space to figure things out, backing away in a way that reflects his deep respect for them. He understands that love cannot be forced, and if it no longer thrives, he would quietly step aside, choosing not to hold onto something that is no longer there. This doesn’t mean he would abandon them out of cruelty—quite the opposite. His departure would be painful for him, and he would never act out of spite or malice.

The affection and closeness he once shared would gradually fade as he refrains from seeking intimate moments or expressions of love. He might no longer share quiet tea sessions or offer the same physical comfort, and the once-comfortable silence would grow heavier. He wouldn’t want to hurt his partner, but he knows that continuing a relationship without true affection could do more damage in the long run. Glorfindel’s love, once deep and full of vibrant connection, would slowly shift into a kind of quiet sorrow, as he respects both their needs and the reality of the situation. His approach would be respectful and gentle, as he quietly processes his emotions and figures out how to move forward. He would never lash out or demand answers, knowing that love cannot be rushed or forced. In this moment, Glorfindel’s wisdom and stoicism would guide him—he’d accept the end of the relationship with a heavy heart, but with a sense of grace. His commitment to honor and integrity would mean he would still care for his former partner, even if the bond has changed, and would ensure their well-being from afar if necessary. The process would be slow, thoughtful, and filled with quiet pain, but Glorfindel would hold his head high, trusting that in time, both of them would heal.

Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn on not giving in? Yes, Glorfindel would do anything for his significant other. His loyalty is unwavering, and his deep sense of duty extends not only to his people but also to those he loves. His commitment to protect and care for them knows no bounds, and he would place their happiness and well-being above his own without hesitation. He would go to great lengths to ensure they are safe and cared for—whether that means laying down his life to defend them, sacrificing his time and energy to support their goals, or offering resources freely to make their lives easier. His love is selfless, and he finds fulfillment in being the steadfast protector, the one who can be counted on in any situation. Glorfindel’s sense of duty and honor is intrinsic to who he is, and he would never shirk his responsibilities when it comes to his significant other. He would spend long hours tending to their needs, whether they are physical, emotional, or practical. From running errands to offering wise counsel, he would be the rock they could rely on in times of joy or hardship.

However, Glorfindel is also wise and has lived through countless challenges. While he is incredibly generous and caring, he is not easily swayed by manipulation. If his partner were to use tactics like crocodile tears or emotional manipulation to get their way, he would see through it immediately. His respect for his partner and his sense of honor would make it hard for him to be deceived. He values honesty and integrity in a relationship and would not tolerate dishonesty or coercion. If he ever suspected that his significant other was using emotional manipulation, he would confront them with calm and understanding, seeking the truth. Though his love is selfless, it is also rooted in trust and mutual respect. Glorfindel would do anything for his partner, but only if the relationship is built on honesty and authenticity. If he were to discover any dishonesty or manipulation, it would be difficult for him to forgive and move forward in the same way. His devotion and willingness to sacrifice everything would remain, but the foundation of trust would need to be rebuilt before he could fully open his heart again. For Glorfindel, true love means respect, honesty, and genuine care. If his partner is genuine, his willingness to go to great lengths for them would be endless. However, the moment trust is broken, it would take a lot to mend, as his love is deeply intertwined with his sense of integrity and honor.

How do they kiss? Glorfindel’s kisses are gentle, yet filled with profound passion, tenderness, and the weight of his affection. He would never rush such a significant and intimate moment, taking care to ensure each kiss carries its own meaning and emotion. His kisses are never hurried, reflecting his patient and thoughtful nature. He believes that love is shown in the subtleties, and as such, his kisses will always be full of reverence for the person he adores. A simple kiss on the forehead would be a sign of respect and deep care, lingering just a moment longer than most, as he gently places his lips there with quiet devotion. A peck on the cheek might be his way of showing his love in public or in the company of others, subtle but no less sincere. Yet, when alone with his partner, his kisses become more intimate—a soft touch at first, but quickly growing in intensity as they both become attuned to one another. The initial kiss might be tentative, a slow exploration, but as the moments stretch on, his affection deepens and his kiss becomes more passionate, filled with longing and warmth.

What makes his kisses special is not just the physical act, but the emotional weight behind them. Each kiss feels like a promise, as though he’s pouring all of his love and admiration into that single, fleeting moment. His kisses are his way of conveying what words cannot, a deep connection to the person he loves, allowing his heart to speak through the simple yet profound gesture. Glorfindel is not one to kiss for the sake of passion alone; he kisses with meaning and purpose, often savoring the closeness, the warmth, and the pure emotion between them. When he kisses, it is as if he is conveying his devotion and admiration, speaking to the very core of his being. Each kiss from him would feel like a reflection of how deeply he cherishes his partner—a moment of shared vulnerability and affection that can only come from true love.

What's their favorite part of their s/o? Glorfindel’s favorite part of his partner is undoubtedly their eyes. He finds himself captivated by the way their gaze can speak volumes without a single word being exchanged. Their eyes, to him, are the windows to their soul—full of joy, wisdom, and an undeniable depth that he is drawn to. The way their emotions flicker across their gaze, whether it’s a fleeting moment of happiness or a deeper, more introspective thought, speaks to Glorfindel on a level that words never could. He could easily lose himself in their eyes, finding a quiet strength and comfort in the way they lock onto his. Their eyes remind him of all the things he loves about them—gentleness, intelligence, passion—and he never tires of looking into them, as each glance feels like a quiet affirmation of the bond they share.

That said, if asked to articulate what truly draws him to them, Glorfindel would likely express that it’s not only their physical appearance that captivates him. For him, it’s their inner beauty, their strength of character, and the quiet resilience they embody. Glorfindel is someone who is most moved by the soul—the strength of will, the kindness, and the integrity a person holds deep within themselves. It’s their intelligence and their ability to navigate the world with wisdom and grace that he truly cherishes, not just the surface level. However, if pressed to choose a more physical feature, Glorfindel would admit that he is particularly drawn to the waist or hips of his partner. There is something inherently comforting and intimate about resting his hand on their waist, or the way their movements seem to flow naturally from that part of the body. His hand may often find its way there, a subtle but reassuring gesture of his closeness and affection. For him, this part of the body represents both strength and softness, and it feels like a perfect place to feel their presence—gentle but grounding.

Are they protective? Yes, Glorfindel is deeply and fiercely protective of those he loves, and his significant other is no exception. His protective nature is not driven by possessiveness, but by an unwavering sense of duty, loyalty, and love. Glorfindel’s instinct is always to shield and support those he cares about, both in times of physical danger and emotional distress. He would go to great lengths to ensure their safety and well-being, whether that means standing in front of them in battle or quietly offering comfort in the face of emotional hardship. In battle, Glorfindel’s protective instincts are on full display. His skill with a blade, his courage in the face of overwhelming odds, and his determination to protect those he loves all come to the forefront. He would fight with everything he has, always putting himself between the danger and his partner, ensuring they are out of harm’s way. His strength and bravery become a shield, not just in the physical realm, but in the emotional and spiritual realms as well.

However, his protection extends beyond mere physical defense. Glorfindel is attuned to the emotional and psychological needs of those he loves, and he would not hesitate to offer his support in times of vulnerability. If his partner is troubled, overwhelmed, or hurt, he is the first to offer a listening ear, provide gentle encouragement, and help them find peace. He doesn’t just stand guard; he also nurtures and heals the emotional wounds that might go unseen by others. His protectiveness also manifests in his actions, making sure his significant other feels safe in every way—whether it’s making sure they are physically comfortable, emotionally supported, or simply not burdened by the weight of the world. For Glorfindel, protection is not a burden; it is a privilege, an expression of his deep love and care for them. Whether they face physical danger or the pain of the heart, Glorfindel will always be there, standing firm and resolute, to shield them from harm. In essence, Glorfindel’s protective nature is as much about being present in times of peace as it is about being a steadfast defender in moments of conflict. His protection is comprehensive, wrapping both his loved ones’ physical and emotional well-being in the same unshakeable shield.

How far will they go to take care of their sick s/o? Glorfindel’s sense of duty, which is deeply ingrained in him, extends far beyond the battlefield. When his significant other is sick, his protective instincts take over in the most nurturing way. His devotion to their well-being becomes his highest priority, and he will go to great lengths to ensure they are comfortable and cared for. He doesn’t just perform the bare minimum—he will tend to every detail with thoroughness and love, making sure that his partner feels safe, supported, and cherished throughout their illness. He will be by their side, not just physically present, but emotionally invested in their recovery. Whether it’s fetching the necessary medicine, preparing soothing teas, or making sure they have plenty of food and water, Glorfindel’s actions will show his unwavering commitment to their well-being. He will create a calm, peaceful environment, ensuring that his significant other can rest without worry or discomfort. His attention to detail would extend to creating a serene space—drawing the curtains just right, adjusting the pillows, or keeping the room warm and cozy.

Glorfindel is not one to shy away from responsibility. He would not hesitate to cancel any personal engagements or put aside his own needs for the sake of their comfort. His love is selfless, and when they need him, he’s fully there—putting aside his duties and plans, with no complaint or hesitation. He would be the one to stay up late, checking on them periodically, making sure they’re warm, hydrated, and settled. Even in moments when his partner might be feverish or restless, he would sit beside them, gently stroking their hair or offering soft words of reassurance, ensuring they know they are not alone. His love is expressed through his actions, and in times of illness, his unwavering presence is a testament to the depth of his care. He will offer not just physical comfort, but emotional support as well—quietly assuring them that they are strong, and that their health is his primary concern. If needed, Glorfindel would make sure to handle all the responsibilities around the home, from cooking meals to running errands, without question. He would do everything he can to ease their burdens and allow them to focus solely on recovering. For Glorfindel, taking care of his sick partner isn’t just about tending to their immediate physical needs, but about providing them with the emotional security that comes from knowing they are deeply loved and cared for, no matter the circumstances.

How do they cheer their s/o up when they're down? Glorfindel is deeply attuned to the emotional needs of those he loves, particularly his significant other. When they are feeling down, he is both patient and perceptive, allowing them the space to express their feelings freely. He understands that sometimes, the best way to help is not to rush in with solutions, but simply to be present, offering a safe space for them to process their emotions. His calming, steady presence often brings a sense of peace, as he doesn’t pressure them to feel better, but instead provides an understanding ear and a shoulder to lean on.

Once his partner has had the space to express themselves, Glorfindel gently reassures them with his wisdom. He’s known to offer comforting words that reflect his vast experience and knowledge of both the world and human emotions. His advice is often laced with insight, drawing on the lessons of his long life, and delivered with kindness and tenderness. His words carry the weight of someone who has lived through countless trials and knows that dark times are only temporary. Glorfindel’s calming voice and heartfelt sincerity are often enough to ease the tension and give his partner hope for brighter days ahead. In addition to his comforting words, Glorfindel knows the value of quiet companionship. He might suggest a peaceful walk through nature, where the soothing rhythm of their steps and the beauty of the surroundings can serve as a distraction and a healing balm for a troubled heart. He is not one to rush, allowing his partner to share their thoughts as they walk, or simply enjoying the shared silence between them. The connection they have provides a sense of belonging, and his partner is reminded that they are never truly alone, even in their darkest moments.

If the time is right and his partner is open to it, Glorfindel might break the tension with a touch of humor, always in good spirit. He might tease them lightly, offering a playful comment or a witty remark that brings a smile to their face. His humor is never forceful, and it’s always designed to lift their spirits without making them feel dismissed. Glorfindel’s teasing is gentle, and his ability to know when to be serious and when to lighten the mood shows how well he understands and cares for his partner. He never pushes them to smile, but instead, he creates an environment where they feel safe to do so in their own time. Above all, Glorfindel’s approach to cheering his partner up is rooted in respect and love. He knows that healing often comes not from grand gestures but from the quiet, loving acts that remind his partner they are cherished and supported. Whether it’s through a shared moment of silence, a heartening conversation, or a burst of light-hearted humor, Glorfindel’s commitment to lifting his partner’s spirits never wavers.

How do they react when they find out their s/o is dead? Glorfindel would be utterly shattered by the loss of his significant other. The news would strike him like a blow to his very core, leaving him temporarily numb, as though the world around him has come to a standstill. The bond they shared, so profound and full of warmth, would feel like a part of himself had been ripped away, leaving an emptiness that nothing could easily fill. The pain of losing someone so dear would be unbearable, and for a time, he might struggle to express the depth of his grief. As an elf who has experienced centuries of life, he is no stranger to loss, but the death of a loved one, someone who held such a unique place in his heart, would feel different—a deep and personal wound that takes time to even begin to understand. At first, Glorfindel might retreat inwardly, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the loss. His usually composed demeanor could falter, his eyes reflecting the storm of emotions he feels inside. Though he may not outwardly show the full extent of his pain right away, his grief would be immense, and those closest to him would feel the weight of his sorrow even if he doesn’t speak of it. The quiet of his demeanor in those early moments would be a testament to the depth of the love he had for them and the overwhelming sense of emptiness he now faces.

Despite the initial crushing wave of sorrow, Glorfindel’s strength and resilience would soon rise to the surface. As a being of immense willpower, he would channel his grief into a quiet, determined resolve to honor their memory and continue the work they had shared. He would not let their death define him, but instead, it would fuel his desire to push forward, to carry on their shared purpose, and to live in a way that reflects the love and ideals they held dear. His sense of duty would not allow him to succumb to despair forever. Instead, he would find ways to honor them by protecting others, continuing to fight for what they believed in, and perhaps even by performing acts of kindness or compassion that reflect their spirit. However, even with his strength and resolve, Glorfindel would undoubtedly carry the scar of this loss for the rest of his life. The ache would remain in the quiet moments, when he finds himself alone or reflecting on the life they shared. There would be times when grief resurfaces in waves, and though he might not openly show it, there would be a lingering sadness in his eyes that speaks of the love he will always carry for them. His heart, while still strong, would be forever marked by the love they shared, and in some ways, he would be forever changed by their loss. Ultimately, Glorfindel’s reaction would be a complex mix of profound sorrow, quiet strength, and an unwavering commitment to live in a way that honors the memory of his lost love. Though the heartache would never fully disappear, he would carry their spirit with him, pushing through the pain to honor the life they shared, and using that sorrow as a source of strength in his ongoing journey.

What makes them worry about their s/o the most? Glorfindel’s greatest worry for his significant other is their safety and well-being, both physically and emotionally. As a deeply protective individual, his love comes with an inherent desire to shield them from harm, and he is always alert to any potential threats, whether they are external dangers or internal struggles. His concern would extend far beyond just keeping them safe from physical harm; he would be equally worried about their emotional well-being. If they were hurt, whether by the cruelty of others, by loss, or by their own doubts, it would weigh heavily on his heart. Glorfindel’s love is not limited to the obvious forms of protection; it extends to ensuring their happiness, peace of mind, and the emotional balance that sustains them. He would worry about their mental state, too—if they seemed stressed, anxious, or overwhelmed, he would feel a quiet but persistent anxiety about their emotional health. More than anything, Glorfindel would fear the thought of them being alone or feeling neglected. He understands loneliness and knows how damaging isolation can be. If he sensed that his partner was carrying burdens alone, or if they were struggling without feeling supported, it would trouble him deeply. The idea of them being in pain—without someone to comfort them, or without the reassurance that they are loved and valued—would hurt him almost as much as if he were enduring the pain himself. His instinct would be to shield them from any sadness, frustration, or heartache, though he knows he cannot protect them from everything. Still, he would try his hardest to be there in every way possible—whether by offering guidance, practical help, or simply being present to offer emotional comfort.

Glorfindel’s worries would also extend to the potential of losing them or the fear of their love fading. Given his intense connection to them, the idea of losing that bond—whether to death, separation, or emotional distance—would stir an anxious longing. While his love is steadfast, he would be vigilant in ensuring that nothing endangers the deep connection they share. If they were to face any kind of emotional pain—whether caused by others, by circumstances, or by something within themselves—he would become consumed with the need to alleviate that pain and remind them of the strength of their bond. Ultimately, Glorfindel’s greatest worry is to see his significant other suffer in any way. His protective nature, combined with his immense love, would make him continually anxious about their well-being. He would do everything in his power to ensure that they never feel alone, unloved, or in harm’s way—his concern for them would never waver, and he would always be ready to step in to support and safeguard them in any way possible.

How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o? Glorfindel is the type of elf who, in the quiet moments, cannot help but lose himself in the presence of his significant other. His gaze lingers on them with a quiet reverence, filled with admiration and warmth. Whether they’re engaged in a simple task, lost in thought, or laughing, he often finds himself gazing at them, feeling an overwhelming sense of awe and love. These moments aren’t frequent in an obvious way, but they are sincere and deeply felt, like fleeting sparks of tenderness that he can’t help but indulge in.

When he’s looking at them, it’s as if time slows, and the world around him fades into the background. He could be caught in a deep stare, observing the way they move, the expression on their face, or the sound of their laughter. It is a gaze filled with quiet reverence, as if he sees not only their physical beauty but also the depth of their soul. His eyes would reflect a deep affection, a tenderness born from the bond they share. He might not always be aware of how long he’s been watching them, lost in the beauty of the connection between them.

During moments when they’re unaware, like when they’re reading, working, or staring into the distance, Glorfindel would often find himself stealing these moments to simply observe them. His love is a quiet and steady thing, and sometimes the best way he can express it is through these unspoken gestures—his adoring gaze being one of the simplest yet most genuine ways he shows his love. The warmth in his eyes would speak volumes even when he doesn’t say a word. On occasion, he would also give them a secret, playful glance—a look full of subtle mischief or affection, one that only the two of them understand. It might be shared in the middle of a crowded room, or when a fleeting thought crosses his mind that makes him want to share a private moment without words. These secret glances are full of intimacy and connection, where he shares his feelings without needing to announce them aloud.

And then, there are the teasing glances—the ones that are filled with light-heartedness, a playful challenge in his eyes. These are the looks he gives when they’re bantering, when there’s a shared joke or playful moment between them. It’s his way of showing affection with a hint of fun, a teasing but endearing glance that’s meant to make them smile or laugh. He can’t resist sneaking in those looks, especially when he knows it’ll make them blush or give a knowing smile. Though not constant, his moments of gazing lovingly at them—whether in silent admiration, shared secret glances, or teasing looks—are filled with a deep sense of contentment and gratitude. For Glorfindel, these tender glances are part of how he cherishes his partner, an unspoken affirmation of the bond they share, one that doesn’t need to be declared out loud but instead felt in the silent, shared space between them.

How do they impress their s/o? Glorfindel’s way of impressing his significant other is subtle but profound, rooted in the strength of his character and the quiet integrity he brings to every action. He doesn’t rely on grandiose gestures or overt displays of affection; instead, he impresses through his unwavering dedication to what he believes in, and the quiet way he carries himself. His courage and wisdom are often evident in the way he approaches situations—whether it’s in battle, in moments of hardship, or in the simplest acts of everyday life. He impresses by being reliable, steady, and always true to his word, showing that he is someone who can be trusted and depended upon. One of the most striking ways Glorfindel impresses his partner is through his honor and integrity. He has an unshakable moral compass, and his decisions are guided by a sense of right and wrong that is deeply ingrained in his being. He will never compromise his principles, and this unwavering commitment to justice and fairness is something that leaves a lasting impression. His loyalty and selflessness, demonstrated in the sacrifices he is willing to make for the well-being of others, speaks volumes about the depth of his character.

In addition to his strength of character, Glorfindel has a quiet sense of humor that shines through in unexpected ways. He knows how to lighten the mood when things feel heavy, offering a playful comment or a gentle teasing remark that can make his partner laugh, even in the darkest of times. This lighthearted side, though often overshadowed by his serious demeanor, is one of the ways he keeps his partner engaged and reminds them that joy can always be found, even in the most challenging moments. But what truly leaves a lasting impression on his significant other is his ability to balance his sense of duty with his capacity for joy and love. He is not all business or all fun—he is a beautiful combination of both. Glorfindel takes his responsibilities seriously, always fighting for the greater good, but he also knows when to pause, smile, and savor the small moments of life. Whether it’s sharing a quiet evening together, or simply holding their hand as they walk through the forest, these small acts are what truly impress, because they show his partner that, no matter how great the weight of his duty, his love and devotion to them always come first.

When alone in private, Glorfindel’s affection deepens even more. He becomes tender, like a golden retriever, eager to shower his partner with love and attention. He’ll greet them with kisses and bear hugs, a constant reminder of how much he cherishes their presence. His affection is abundant—often found in the way he touches them lightly as they pass, his gentle fingers grazing their skin, or how he rests his head on their shoulder in the most casual moments. He loves to hold them close, not just for a brief moment, but often, as if trying to drink in their warmth. In these private moments, his gestures are soft and intimate, like taking a bath together, where the water soothes both their bodies and their souls. He might tenderly wash their hair, careful not to miss a single strand, while teasing them about their choice of soap, or sharing quiet, playful remarks to make them laugh. His teasing is never mean-spirited, but full of affection, as he gently pulls them into his arms for a slow, lingering kiss. His love is most vividly shown in these quiet, tender moments. In public, he may be reserved and dignified, but when alone with his significant other, he is more than willing to express his love in every way possible. From the way he dotes on them—offering comforting touches or spontaneous acts of care—to the way he affectionately teases and holds them, Glorfindel’s private love is an embodiment of warmth and tenderness, like the embrace of the golden sun he is named after. Ultimately, Glorfindel impresses not just through his strength, character, and actions, but also through the depth of his affection when no one else is watching. His quiet devotion, whether in moments of playfulness or sincere tenderness, shows his partner that his love is boundless, consistent, and unwavering. It’s in these shared moments of intimacy and vulnerability that Glorfindel’s true nature is fully revealed—he is not just a protector and a warrior, but someone who is deeply invested in the joy and comfort of his partner.

https://www.instagram.com/legendarium_studio?igsh=MTV6bDMyNjYxeHYzbw== (cosplayer of Glorfindel this page from if you wanted to know)

Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)

𖤓 He’s always down for cuddles. Whether he’s in the middle of a serious conversation or after a battle, Glorfindel will instantly drop everything for a cuddle. He’s the type to wrap his arms around his loved ones in a warm, tight hug, lifting them off the ground if he can. His cuddles are like a safe haven, and he’ll gladly hold onto you for as long as you need, offering comfort and warmth.

𖤓 He’s the type to fetch things just to make you happy. If you need something, Glorfindel will go out of his way to bring it to you—even if it’s something simple like a book or a cup of tea. He’ll do it with the enthusiasm of a dog who’s been asked to fetch a ball. “I’m happy to help!” he’ll say with a big grin as he runs to do your bidding.

𖤓 He has a “playful” side that comes out at unexpected times. Sometimes Glorfindel gets a burst of energy and will start playfully wrestling with his friends, gently tackling them to the ground in a fun, lighthearted manner. His energy is contagious, and before anyone knows it, they’re all on the ground, laughing.

𖤓 He loves to give his significant other flowers… just because. Glorfindel is always picking the most beautiful flowers and bringing them to his partner without any special occasion. He’ll find something in bloom in the forest, excited to give it to them with a big smile, as if he’s just given them the most precious treasure.

𖤓 He has a habit of collecting random “souvenirs” for his friends. Every time he goes on a journey or a trip, Glorfindel will find something small and silly to bring back—whether it’s a leaf from a special tree, an oddly shaped rock, or an acorn. He’s convinced that they’re important little tokens that remind him of the adventure, and he always gives them out with a big smile.

𖤓 He’s an over-the-top “cheerleader” for his partner. Whenever his significant other does something impressive—no matter how small—Glorfindel will be their loudest cheerleader. He’ll clap, hoot, and holler with excitement, often making an exaggerated show of how proud he is of them. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he’s never shy about making sure they know how amazing they are.

𖤓 He is an extreme morning person. While others may groggily wake up, Glorfindel is already full of energy, ready to greet the day with enthusiasm. He’ll happily bring his partner a cup of tea or breakfast in bed, his golden energy making him the perfect early riser who loves to start the day off with positivity.

𖤓 He’ll sneak up behind people to give them an unexpected bear hug. Glorfindel loves physical affection, and while he’s normally composed, he has an unexpected habit of sneaking up behind his friends or significant other and wrapping them in a massive bear hug. He doesn’t always announce his approach, making it extra startling, but he’s always quick to laugh afterward.

𖤓 He talks to his reflection when he’s frustrated. When things aren’t going the way he’d like, Glorfindel can often be found talking to his reflection in the mirror. It’s a method of self-soothing, where he works through problems by speaking out loud to himself. Sometimes he’ll even give himself little pep talks when he needs to remind himself of his own strength.

𖤓 Glorfindel is terrible at keeping secrets, but he tries. He can be trusted with confidences, but Glorfindel’s natural inclination to help others often leads him to accidentally let things slip. His face gives away everything, so when he’s holding onto a secret, he often acts unusually anxious or distracted.

𖤓 He’s fiercely protective of his privacy. While Glorfindel is generous and open with his friends, his private life is his sanctuary. He rarely shares personal details, preferring to keep his innermost thoughts and feelings private. He can be very secretive when it comes to matters of the heart, and it’s only in the deepest, most trusting relationships that he will let down his guard.

𖤓 He’s great at giving advice, but doesn’t always follow it himself. Glorfindel is wise beyond measure and often gives excellent advice to those around him. However, when it comes to his own personal life, he’s prone to overthinking or holding onto old wounds. While he’ll offer guidance to others, he struggles with taking his own advice at times.

𖤓 He has an infectious laugh. Glorfindel’s laughter is the kind that fills the air with lightness. It’s joyful, carefree, and utterly contagious. When he laughs, you can’t help but join in, whether it’s from something truly funny or just from the sheer happiness he radiates. His laughter is a symbol of his sunny disposition and positive energy.

𖤓 He’s a huge fan of simple pleasures. Glorfindel finds joy in the little things in life—feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, listening to birdsong, or sipping on a cup of tea with friends. His gratitude for the simple pleasures of life is part of what makes him so radiant. He knows how to savor the moments that others might take for granted.

𖤓 Glorfindel talks to his horses like they’re people. He’s often seen having conversations with them, especially before or after battle. He believes they can understand him, and he’s always sure to give them the best care, often speaking to them in a soothing, affectionate tone. He’d probably be upset if someone didn’t show proper respect to them.

𖤓 He hates when people underestimate him based on his beauty. Glorfindel knows his golden hair and striking appearance can lead people to think he’s just a pretty face. He gets frustrated when people assume he’s all show and no substance—he’s more than capable, and he doesn’t need to prove it to anyone, but it still bothers him when they don’t realize his strength.

𖤓 Glorfindel is a sucker for romantic gestures. He’s incredibly private about it, but Glorfindel would love for someone to surprise him with a romantic gesture—something simple but meaningful like a handwritten letter or a thoughtful, personal gift. He might hide it, but his heart melts every time.

𖤓 Glorfindel never forgets a kindness. If someone does something small or kind for him, even if it’s something as simple as offering him a meal when he’s exhausted, he remembers it for years. He holds onto those moments of human (or elven) connection and returns the favor tenfold.

𖤓 He loves the sound of rain. Despite being a warrior and a fierce fighter, Glorfindel has a peaceful side. He finds comfort in the sound of rain—when he’s away from the battlefield, he’ll often find a quiet place to sit and listen to the rain, letting the soothing sound wash over him.

𖤓 He loves being surrounded by his closest friends. Glorfindel enjoys company and the camaraderie of those who truly understand him. He’s not the type to seek out large crowds but rather treasures intimate gatherings of friends. Whether it’s sharing stories, playing games, or simply enjoying a meal together, he values these moments of peace.

𖤓 He lights up any room he enters. When Glorfindel walks into a space, his bright presence brings an immediate sense of joy and calm. His smile, glowing with sincerity, seems to make everything brighter, and his easy laughter is infectious. Even on the darkest days, his optimism and warmth shine through, helping everyone around him feel just a little bit lighter

𖤓 He’s the ultimate sunshine friend. Glorfindel will always check in on his loved ones with a warm, “How are you doing today?” He’ll make sure you’re taken care of, offering support when you need it and reminding you of your worth. Whether it’s sharing a funny story or just sitting in companionable silence, he has a way of making even the simplest moments feel like sunshine.

𖤓 He has an unsettling talent for appearing behind people silently. If Glorfindel wants to make an entrance, he’ll do it so silently that people won’t even notice him until he speaks. He’ll stand in the doorway, perfectly still, and wait for someone to notice him. When they finally do, he’ll just smile and say, “I’ve been here for a while.”

𖤓 He can’t stand rudeness or disrespect, especially toward women. Glorfindel was raised to treat others with the utmost respect, especially women, and it infuriates him when he sees someone treating others poorly. He might not start a confrontation, but there’s always a look of quiet fury in his eyes when he sees injustice or cruelty.

𖤓 He’s very protective of children. Glorfindel may not have any children of his own, but he is fiercely protective of the young. He’s often found teaching them, giving them guidance, and always watching out for them in battle or in everyday life. His soft spot for them is something few people see, but it’s one of his most tender traits.

𖤓 He occasionally likes to “haunt” his friends for fun. Glorfindel has a mischievous side, and sometimes, he’ll make himself scarce just to make people think he’s disappeared. Then he’ll pop up suddenly, making them jump, and laugh at their startled reactions. He finds it amusing, though he’s always careful not to take it too far.

[the-raven-and-the-tower]

Some Davrin angst for your day?

GHILAN'NAIN: Grey Wardens! I wield the power of the blight.(Archdemon roars) Today, you face the finest child of the gods!

(Tiny infodump on this bitch even though this post is about Davrin) The whole "finest child of the gods" thing is because Ghilan’nain was elevated to godhood by the elven pantheon (specifically by Andruil, the goddess of the hunt). Before her ascension, Ghilan’nain was known for creating creatures that had never been seen before, which pleased Andruil for a while... until some of the creatures started becoming monsters and killing people.

NEVE: Ghilan'nain! And she brought a dragon!

DAVRIN (grimly): Worse! That's an Archdemon!

Historically, Wardens have ended blights by facing down Archdemons as the only ones capable to taking them down. For Grey Wardens, sensing an Archdemon is not just a call to battle; it’s a call to potentially end their life. The ritual that makes a person into a Grey Warden requires them to consume Darkspawn blood, which changes them - giving the ability to sense darkspawn... at the cost of linking their fate directly to the fate of the Archdemon. It's a strange connection that means killing the Archdemon requires the life of the Grey Warden who strikes the final blow. The ultimate sacrifice, seen as a necessary cost to save the world from a Blight.

ROOK: We have to get inside!

MILA: The war room isn't far!

Just real quick a second can we cheer for how frickin' adorable and badass Mila is? And appreciate how understandably stressed Rook is about a child guiding them through an active battlefield? While Mila is confident and calm. I love it.

ROOK (stressed): Stick close, Mila!

DAVRIN: (staggers, pained grunt)

NEVE: Davrin? What's wrong?

DAVRIN: Wardens... we can sense an Archdemon... I can hear the Calling... Splitting headache... but I'll make it.

Grey Wardens are constantly aware that their life might end with the Calling. Davrin has lived his life with the concept of an early end to it so long that he's begun to draw comfort from the idea. Here, at what he very well may believe is his end, he's showing stoic resolve. No wavering, no fear, no hesitation. For as long as he can remember, his purpose has been to defend the world from the blight and with that purpose has come the knowledge that he will die doing it. He's running towards his purpose now with no fear of his own end, embracing it, even. Little does he know that a whole new battle awaits him on the other side, a wrestling match with his own mind when he survives, as he never expected to.

NEVE: ...

NEVE: Well, this went sideways! (on to the next problem) How's Lucanis going to kill a cloud with a dagger?

ROOK (still very stressed about the literal child leading them across the battlefield): One thing at a time! For now, let's not die out here!

[sweetteaanddragons]

Maedhros in Troy AU: Outcome

Okay, so with the Maedhros in Troy AU, I have spent way more time on Maedhros than Odysseus.

BUT.

I think Odysseus might be the key to how this whole situation gets resolved.

Consider:

Odysseus finds Elured and Elurin and tries to find a way out of the woods. In the process, he comes across some of the other refugees from Doriath, who are very relieved to see their princes and very grateful to the man who rescued them. For lack of better ideas, Odysseus stays with them.

(He doesn't recognize these stars. How is he supposed to get home if he can't even recognize the stars - )

The refugees head to Sirion. Eventually, they manage to get past the language barrier well enough to communicate.

None of the elves know where Ithaca is, sorry, or how he might have gotten here, they don't know anyone who would know - except the Valar, of course, ha-ha -

The who? Odysseus asks, very interested.

Oh, well, the Valar, these superpowered not quite all knowing beings who live across the ocean -

That ocean? he asks, pointing, just to be sure.

(This is the man who saw Aeolus's island and decided he was going to climb it. Who was told to go to the Underworld and didn't hesitate. He is absolutely going to try to sail west.)

This is a bad idea, the elves say hastily. Everyone who has tried to sail west has been forced to turn back or die.

Odysseus tries anyway.

He is forced to turn back.

He keeps trying.

In between attempts, he picks up some knowledge of the Silmaril. He doesn't care about it particularly; he just can't avoid picking up on some things about it.

Like the fact the Valar, at least at one time, badly wanted it.

Odysseus steals the Silmaril and makes another attempt.

The Valar have so many questions for him when he shows up.

He does get back to Ithaca, though.

In less than twenty years.

(The Valar, in fixing this situation, also get Maedhros back. There are many awkward things about this situation; the Valar have the Silmaril but don't really consider themselves to rightfully hold it given how Odysseus got it in the first place; Maedhros is an exile who is not supposed to be in Valinor and who does not want to be here, and now they have to decide what to do about that - )

(It does not help the awkwardness that Maedhros, who has had to deal with Zeus's tantrums over his refusal to kill a baby, Aphrodite's tantrums for reasons he's not sure he wants to understand, Athena's demands to know where Odyssues is, Hephaestus and Ares being what they thought was helpful, Apollo's curse on Cassandra, and everyone's general surprise when he didn't think human sacrifice was the best solution for placating the storms - )

(Maedhros looks at the Valar thoughtfully and decides that, for all his problems with the Valar, he respects the fact that they are not the Olympians.)

(The Valar are deeply concerned with what they hear about the Olympians.)

(This may influence their decision that while the Trojans can't stay here-here in Aman, they can stay in Middle Earth.)

(Maybe with the Edain on that island they were thinking of raising . . .)

[xx-w1ndv4l3-xx]

Oh I know, Windvale never shuts up about their cell. How this Horus cell is the right one, how they are the arbiters of RA’s will. I don’t buy half of it. I’m just here as thanks for Windvale showing me the truth about Union. I’m not making any sacrifices to Ra any time soon, or whatever else Windvale does besides terrorism.

They were on a Union watch list long before this fiasco with the Sons of the Second Committee (the anthrochauv rebels we’ve been working with), from my understanding. Implicated in the deaths of at least two other DOJ teams, and the destruction of an IPSN test flight, killing the pilots. The rest of the cell is beyond my knowledge though. I understand there’s at least two more NHPs, and one Manticore.

From what I know about a Manticore, it isn’t the best news to hear.

[[Raindance]]

Osiri, that’s what I call them. They went missing during a fight, and now they haven’t been able to get back to me. No response to any message I’ve sent. Last me or my surviving allies heard from them was…

By Deimos’ poles I’m screwed.

Ashlyn, spiting me from death now are you?

I gotta go, I think my NHP has suffered a most unfortunate fate.

//Windvale

Um... good luck, I think?

Keep sending those messages and hoping, and maybe if you're really desperate and don't mind hurting some friendships put in a call to the NHPRO... oh, wait a moment.

Ashlyn, I think you've got an NHP gunning for you.

|| KARATEKA ||

[hanzajesthanza]

reading other short stories and novels and essays and interviews from sapkowski is so satisfying because not only are these fun to read in of themselves but when my mind returns to the witcher i am like

[deadciv]

so many of the cyberpunk endings are fundamentally cynical or deeply caveated and alloyed in some way, but the Tower ending…christ. think playing it too late last night legitimately gave me bad dreams

[fanaroff]

Kind of continuation to this comic.

The first thing he opens his eyes to—

———

“Narinder?”

Too loud. Too bright. Too much. Even through closed eyelids and flattened ears. His head pounded behind his eyes. A rhythmic thumping so loud in his ears. A noise he was so unused to. A mortal sound.

Pain was a blinding experience when one was no longer numb to it. The One Who Waits could only huddle in one spot and cling to his own shoulders with claws he couldn’t not yet control enough to retract. He knew where he sat, but he was not going to allow the recognition to settle.

Hurt lanced across his chest, his wrists. He wanted it to stop. This was not how things were supposed to go. He’d planned for so long. How could this have happened?

Narinder chose wrong. He chose wrong. He chose the wrong vessel. His vessel who built him up, built a Temple in his name, raised devotion! His vessel who then tore him down and reduced him to this quivering mess of a new mortal.

How he wished they’d chosen to kill him instead. To have ended his millennia of suffering, not extend it further.

He chose wrong.

The physical hurt now ran in tandem with the emotional. How could they do this to him? When he saw them choose… he thought that maybe things would go right. He would be free and his vessel tucked safely in their own little heaven… but he saw them return the Red Crown to their own head. That damned Lamb!

The one he gave life to! The one he saved!

Betrayed by one he trusted so—

Now he was here. Now he was mortal. How foolish of him.

“…Narinder?” Faust’s voice was gentle, no doubt a front put on for the followers (they should be HIS) that he could hear hanging about in curiosity. (Insects to be squashed! How dare they look upon his visage and see him in this form!)

Narinder knew that if he were to open his eyes, he’d see nothing but hatred in theirs. After all, he ordered his vessel to sacrifice themself. And after all, this was not something his vessel was willing to do. Would such an ask not generate hatred in one unwilling?

Either way, the refusal… the betrayal… has generated hatred within Narinder and when he returned to strength… he would make them pay.

There was no point in putting things off.

Narinder cracked open an eye, blinking rapidly against the blinding light, prepared to see the Lamb standing before him with a weapon in hand. (They’d be foolish not to, what if he chose to attack?)

Instead, the Lamb kneeled before him (why kneel now and not then?), a bowl of water in hand and fake concern across their face. They were still covered in spots of their blood and Narinder’s ichor from their battle, fleece torn in places and wool sticking up in different directions. Yet, they were the victor and looked it. Narinder had no doubt that he looked worse.

He felt worse.

Light from the setting sun lit against Faust, brightening them in almost a halo. It would be beautiful sight… if not for the knowledge he had.

“Betrayer.” Narinder rasped. It came out wrong. He wanted it to be a hiss. A snarl. But it was a wheeze of air at best. His throat hated it. He hated it.

Faust had the gall to shake their head. They opened their mouth to speak, but Narinder beat them to it.

“Betrayer. I never should have chose you. A lamb that defiled my name. My Temple for their own!” He slowly devolved into a rant. A proper tantrum for the ages. Spitting insults that brought gasps of shock from those around them, a few being hands to weapons (garden tools at best), and yet Faust did not react.

If he had taken a moment, he would have noticed their eyes darken to sadness and a frown overtaking their features. He would have noticed the hurt. The Crown trying to get his attention that he had chosen the wrong subject for his ire. But he was understandably focused on his own.

“I wish not to see you! I wish not to be here! Kill me, Usurper! End the suffering you drag out further!” Narinder’s voice had torn by the end, quieted by the force he attempted to put behind it and sounding as if he’d been exposed to the smoke of fires for hours.

He’d begged at the end. Begged to be killed and put out of his misery. And again the Lamb ignored this.

When Narinder was done, panting harshly and lying against the ground as his body turned tired, Faust stood from their kneel and turned to a she-rabbit. They placed the bowl of water in her hands.

“Take him to a tent. I feel he would be calmer if I were not in his line of sight. Have someone come to me if he attempts to attack anyone. Make sure he drinks. Make sure he eats. Force him to if you have to, but be careful. He has not eaten in a long while.”

The she-rabbit bowed her head as Faust turned without a second look to Narinder and strode towards the Temple. His temple no longer.

Narinder could only squirm and attempt at clawing, glaring at Faust’s back as he was dragged away with the help of two other followers. Kicking and screeching, he vowed to himself that the Lamb would pay for this.

They all would pay.

— —

Quick Oneshot that may not stay canonical, or it may stay as a companion piece. The image will stay canonical as the first thing Narinder sees upon his indoctrination. For now, it’s a prompt for myself.

I plan to do the main fic series from Faust’s POV, but I wanted to play around with some of Narinder’s thoughts. I don’t know if it worked though, I have a hard time thinking how someone might react in hatred so I hope I got it close enough.

Hope you like it!

[narxcisse]

★ — General yandere Viktor headcanons

Yandere!Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: Obsession and yandere behaviors, surveillance and control, manipulation, forced proximity, Vik pretends to depend on you occasionally, isolation(?), takes place in s1

English isn't my native language

Viktor’s analytical nature extends to his obsession. Once he’s fixated on someone, they become the center of his world, overshadowing even his work.

He memorizes every detail about you—your habits, preferences, quirks, and routines. This knowledge is meticulously stored and analyzed to "understand" you better.

Rationalizes his possessiveness as care. He believes he’s the only one who can protect you, especially from the chaos of Zaun and Piltover.

He subtly manipulates circumstances to keep you away from others, framing it as concern for your safety.

Any perceived threat to you triggers his protective instincts. He can be dangerously calculating when dealing with rivals or anyone who might harm you.

He uses his Hextech knowledge to develop devices that monitor or safeguard you—tracking bracelets, automated sentinels, or surveillance systems disguised as gifts.

Viktor uses his calm demeanor to guilt-trip you into compliance. He’ll lament how much he sacrifices for you, subtly steering your choices.

He’ll portray himself as overworked or burdened, implying that your support and closeness are the only things keeping him going.

Viktor impresses you with his intelligence, subtly reinforcing the idea that he’s irreplaceable.

He ensures you rely on him emotionally or practically, making it difficult for you to leave.

He might push himself to the point of exhaustion and subtly blame you for not being there to stop him, saying things like, "If I had you by my side, perhaps I wouldn't push myself this far."

If you ever try to distance yourself, he may consider using his technology to "fix" you, claiming it’s for your benefit.

Viktor’s obsession is methodical. He won’t lash out irrationally but will quietly remove obstacles or manipulate situations to keep you close.

Around you, Viktor shows a softer side that no one else sees (Maybe Jayce sees it sometimes too), making it hard to view him as a threat.

Viktor may mark his territory with small, easily overlooked gestures—insisting you wear a scarf he gave you or leaving his inventions in your home.

Don't underestimate his cane, if you try to run away, he will easily knock you out with it.

If pushed too far, Viktor can become dangerously unhinged. In rare moments of desperation, his calm facade may crack, revealing just how far he’ll go to keep you.

It starts innocently enough—or so it seems. Viktor’s health has been deteriorating more visibly over the past few days. You notice the way he winces when he moves, the increasing reliance on his cane, the exhaustion written across his face.

He brushes off your concern at first, but one night, you find him sitting in his chair, his head resting heavily in his hand, looking utterly defeated.

"I thought I could endure this alone," he says quietly, his voice hoarse with fatigue. "But... I fear I cannot."

You freeze. Viktor has always been stoic, resilient, unwilling to admit weakness. To see him like this sends a pang through your chest.

"I didn’t want to burden you," he continues, his amber eyes meeting yours, glassy with an emotion you can’t quite place. "But it’s becoming harder... to keep going without someone to rely on. Without you."

He doesn’t explicitly ask for anything, but his words hang heavy in the air. You feel his unspoken plea.

"Perhaps it’s selfish," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. "But... your presence eases the pain. When you’re near, I feel... stronger."

The way he looks at you—so "vulnerable", so "dependent"—makes it impossible to say no.

"Stay tonight," he says after a pause, his voice almost a whisper. "Just for a while. I need to know you're here."

You hesitate, but his hand reaches out, brushing yours lightly. His touch is cold but steady, grounding in a way that feels both comforting and suffocating.

"Please," he adds softly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I... don’t want to be alone tonight."

Against your better judgment, you agree. He guides you to sit beside him, his arm brushing against yours. For a while, it’s quiet. Then, almost tentatively, he leans closer, his head resting against your shoulder.

---

After some time, he shifts, feigning discomfort. "Forgive me," he murmurs, his voice strained. "The pain... it’s worse tonight. Would you... hold me? Just for a moment?"

You blink in surprise, but before you can respond, he adds, "I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t unbearable. I just... need to feel that someone cares."

You reluctantly oblige, wrapping your arms around him. He lets out a soft sigh, almost as if in relief, and his own arms tentatively encircle you.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Even as you sit there, his hold tightens subtly, possessively, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

As the night wears on, you start to feel a creeping realization that this might not have been as innocent as it seemed. Viktor, however, seems content, his gaze soft but calculating as he holds you close.

"Perhaps... you could stay again tomorrow?" he murmurs, the faintest smile playing on his lips. "For my recovery, of course."

[astrobydalia]

Astro knowledge pt. 2

work by astrobydalia

Cancer rules hotels, motels, etc. Hotels are all about hospitality, making people feel welcomed, comfortable, provide for basic needs like a bed, food, etc. Of course this will differ based on quality and the kind of place but in general places designated to provide shelter and a place to stay are ruled by Cancer

When I learned this it made a lot of sense cause my mom has Groom in Cancer and 7th house ruler in the 4th house and she met her fs at a hotel. I know a couple who has Cancer ASC in their composite chart and they met at a hotel

Jupiter is a very unpredictable planet and a negative manifestation of it is that it can make things grow uncontrollably without reliable results. Jupiter can give blessings yes but it does not guarantee success. Those blessings are just opportunities but it's up to you what to do with them.

Astrologically, the key to success is Saturn. That's why success is so hard to obtain and it's a symbol of status or accomplishment. And yes this applies to whatever it is you consider success. Saturn is not about obtaining success in itself, it's about growth, the way we feel accomplished and successful as humans is when we feel like we've grown and flourished overtime. That's why it doesn't matter what your definition of success is, in order to get it you need to mature and go through sacrifices and lessons related to your Saturn placement.

MC/10th house = what success means to you Saturn = also related to what success means to you, but it can specifically tell you how to get it

Moon is related to wealth that's why it is exalted in Taurus!

Moon in a man's chart indicates his wife because Moon symbolizes the divine feminine. Venus is important too but ultimately a man will commit to a woman that satisfies his Moon energy. That's why it is often said that men marry someone like their moms or the way a man treats his mom is how he's gonna treat his wife

5th house rules your creative endeavors and the 11th house rules your public/clients/fanbase/etc. That's also why 11th house is related to money you make in your career (2nd from 10th). If you wanna have your own business you gotta look at both the 5th and 11th houses

Something I don't see people mention much (maybe because its obvious) is that Libra energy makes things to be balanced in itself because Libra is all about avoiding any extremes. Libra makes this to be on the "elevated" or positive side but always keeping it moderate. For example, if you have Libra ruling your money houses your income could be averagely decent, like you could make good money (cause, Venus) but you're not insanely rich either or it does not appear that you are (cause Libra also rule appearances).

Aquarius rules heavy cold winds (you know like those very heavy and erratic winds), that’s why it also rules over airports and planes. I've also seen astrologers say that back in the day, Aquarius used to rule over sailing of bigger boats which also needed heavier winds in order to move

We all know Leo rules inner child. One thing about children is that when you're a kid you kinda don't have a concept of others being their own person and having completely different lives (that's something Aquarius brings awareness to, that's why its the humanitarian), but rather kids tend to assume everyone lives the same way as they do. That's what happens with Leo astrologically, they tend to not understand or fathom or be interested in things that go beyond them or their experience. Their own perspective of life is their whole world and what they will project on everything much like the Sun project its own light into the world. In the case of very unhealthy Leo energy this can go as far as actively minimizing other's experiences and perspectives. When Leo does try to understand others, they have a tendency to circle it back to something they can relate to or is relevant to them or they can understand

There's also another side of Leo that rules teenage years since that’s the period of our lives where we are finding our identity/expression and also where we start to become more interested in romance and sex

In composite, the ASC is how the relationship started and how it generally comes across as but the 7th house is the dynamic the two people have between them, how they actually interact with each other

Both Aquarius and Pisces are the last two of the zodiac wheel and both relate to themes of evolving as human and elevating spiritually but because of this, these signs are the hardest to develop healthily and many people fail to do so. That's why you see many Aquarius and Pisces placements with a god complex or huge entitlement cause both share this sentiment of feeling 'different', more elevated or special than everyone else

Venus finds fall in Virgo bc Venus is a sex goddess, she rules abundance, sensuality, pleasure and indulgence. Virgo on the other hand is the virgin, she's minimalistic, cerebral and modest, she’s too much of a “prude” for Venus.

Since Pisces is the most empathetic sign, its opposite Virgo is one of the most unkind signs unfortunately. Pisces wants to find the beauty in all things and people (Venus exaltation) while Virgo wants to find the flaws and everything that is wrong and needs to be improved or fixed. Pisces is about accepting the "soul" of things while Virgo is attached to an idea of how things should be. That's also why Venus finds falls in Virgo because Venus is related to kindness (this does not mean Virgo Venus people are inherently unkind, this can manifest in any unhealthy virgo placement, it's just an astrological explanation)

Domicile/exaltation is not always positive. When a sign exalts a planet it means that it can enhance both its positive AND negative qualities. That's why exalted mars can manifest as toxic masculinity or why exalted Venus can manifest as textbook enabling behaviour. On the flip side, planets are its fall/debilitation are challenging placements because the positive qualities of the planet are weakened but at the same time its negative qualities can be neutralized. For example, Mercury debilitated can be less prone to pointless rambles and have a more focused intellectual approach, debilitated Venus can be less compliant, etc

The energy that rules horror astrologically is Pisces/12th house/Neptune, we usually associate it just with dreams and idolization but it actually has a creepy and twisted side to it. Neptune is all about blurring the boundaries of reality including what we judge to be good or bad (Virgo). It rules over dreams AND nightmares. Not only that but Neptune energy does not understand the difference between a dream and a nightmare. This characteristic can range from blindness to red flags all the way to having rather morbid fascinations.

Following the above, the association of 12th house with nightmares is also explained by Saturn finding its joy is this house (the so called 'bad spirit', the never-ending burdens that come to haunt you). However, as I explained earlier in the post, Saturn is the key to success so this means Saturn is the key to help you achieve your dreams (12th house)

Pisces/Neptune energy rules spirituality but at its lowest it can also be the most superficial and vain sign (again, the negative side of Venus exaltation) because Pisces also rules illusions and idolization. It can focus so much on portraying an ideal image that it does not dive deep within, wants to escape reality and live a fake ideal

In terms of performance, Leo is theoretically better at sex than Scorpio

How to read the chart of a Nation + some observations

Sun signifies the characteristic of the rulers and it also symbolizes what that country is all about if that makes sense. For example USA is Cancer Sun and they've always been known for they patriotism and how they're very attached to their past as a nation.

Moon represents the people (civilians, population, the society). The energy you will likely experience by actually spending enough time there and start integrating yourself with the people. For example New York has Aries Moon and a relative of mine who used to live there once told me jokingly "with all the hustle and normalized criminality sometimes it feels like a war zone here"

Ascendant is the general national identity they present, the first thing that comes to mind when you think about that place. I've also noticed the stereotypes of a nation a lot of times relate to its ASC. For example Canada (Toronto) is Libra ASC and they’re known for being polite and nice to everyone. Japan (Tokyo) has Virgo ASC and their known for being super diligent and clean (think Marie Kondo). USA (nation) is Sagittarius ASC and they’re known for being loud, entitled, optimistic, multicultural, a massive country, cowboys and country music, etc.

work by astrobydalia

[onelittlespiral]

Attention: Health and Safety Alert

Dear Students, Faculty, and Staff,

It has come to our attention that a serious outbreak of a virus illness has been seriously harming our campus community. We take this public health threat very seriously and want you all to be aware and alert so that you can stay safe.

As a matter of transparency, we want to be clear on the origin of this virus. The Frontal Recognizance Transmutation Arenavirus 24 (often called just arena or FRT-24) has been a known threat for some time, with clear symptoms from infected individuals. A research lab on campus was known to have been studying its effects. This particular strain, the alpha variant, was of particular interest, so when a sample went missing, we exhausted campus resources to locate it. We were unable to and are now deeply sorry to our campus community. We take full responsibility for the current outbreak.

FRT-24 is highly contagious, so it is important to know the immediate signs. Look for:

Sudden headaches or migraines

Dizziness or loss of vision

Fevers and chills, especially paired with heavy perspiration

Loss of cognitive functions

Rapid muscle swelling

If you are infected, symptoms may take up to three days to develop, and you may still be a vector in this time. As the disease takes hold, you may notice a change in mood, as a lack of interest in usual activities. Instead, the disease drives the infected towards spreading. Common hubs seem to be gyms, parties, and social gatherings. We have also noticed an uptick in fraternity membership this year, a possible sign of disease spread.

Know the signs in yourself or others, as often the infected will not show traditional signs of ailment. This student has given us permission to share his story:

This young man was a healthy Junior just a few weeks ago. He was a promising young academic in biochemistry, hoping to one day do research on emergent diseases. Since his experience with FRT-24, his life is forever changed.

The changes are alarming. He has gained over 100 lbs and been unable to focus on his studies. Instead, he was spending hours in the student rec center, consumed by his illness as he worked his body to exhaustion. Since his quarantining, he has been unable to answer any basic questions about his academic career or research project. Instead, he has shown a hallucinated knowledge of a personal training and fitness program. As an early vector, we are aware of at least 10 other students who were infected before his quarantine, and he is being held for further observations on disease progression.

Thankfully we have been able to identify the method of transmission. At this time, it seems bodily fluids are most transmissible method. It seems that this virus enhances the body in this respect. Those infected will often try to spread by any means necessary. They are very good at finding susceptible men, isolating them, and finding ways to expose them directly to their sweat, saliva, and in some cases semen. They will be desperate for any chance to get you alone with them, to join their ranks. Do no be drawn in by promises of muscle, of status, or ease of life. Their brains are no longer their own. They only seek to make you a drone for FRT-24.

While we are still in the early stages of understanding the virus, we would like to acknowledge the valiant work done by Dr. Pulaski and his team of researchers. They have lead the way in this fight, throwing themselves at this dangerous line of work. Without their noble sacrifice, we would be still months from understanding the origins of this outbreak. We have narrowed down the point of origin to a party held a few weeks ago in the PKE frat house. At this time, it is unknown if frat leadership was in any way involved with this outbreak.

Sadly, Dr. Pulaski was found earlier this week a few days after conducting interviews and performing sample retrieval from the PKE house believed to be the epicenter. He was found shirtless, flexing his newly formed muscles in the mirror at the student rec center.

When reached for comment, he only smirked and reported “feeling great, bruh,” a clear sign of decline. We are still uncertain if he has exposed any of his other researchers to the disease.

Remember, you are responsible for yourself and out campus community. If you suspect you or someone you know has been exposed, please report to the Student Health Center immediately for examination. In the mean time, please stay safe everyone. We will continue to keep you updated as we know more

Regards,

Dr. Brendan Host, President

Congrats @occamstfs on 2k followers. I hope you all enjoy a late entry to the party. Go out and check out the other writers under the #occam2000 tag, some great stuff in there. And don't worry, FML: Initiate is coming soon.

[luna-azzurra]

Character motivations for fictional characters

1. Revenge: Seeking vengeance for a past wrong or harm.

2. Power: Craving dominance and control over others.

3. Love and Relationships: Longing for love, companionship, and emotional connection.

4. Redemption: Seeking to atone for past mistakes and find forgiveness.

5. Survival: Striving to stay alive in dangerous or challenging circumstances.

6. Justice: Fighting against injustice and upholding fairness.

7. Exploration: Satisfying curiosity and a desire for discovery.

8. Ambition: Relentlessly pursuing success and achievement.

9. Freedom: Seeking liberation from oppression and constraints.

10. Knowledge and Wisdom: Thirsting for knowledge, understanding, and wisdom.

11. Family: Protecting and nurturing one's family and loved ones.

12. Acceptance: Craving acceptance and validation from others.

13. Friendship: Building and maintaining meaningful friendships.

14. Escape: Seeking to break free from a stifling or undesirable situation.

15. Truth: Uncovering the truth and exposing lies or deceit.

16. Creativity: Expressing oneself and bringing imagination to life.

17. Competition: Striving to be the best and outperform others.

18. Self-Discovery: Embarking on a journey to understand oneself better.

19. Healing: Seeking emotional, physical, or spiritual healing.

20. Faith and Belief: Holding strong religious or spiritual convictions.

21. Mentorship: Guiding and inspiring others to reach their potential.

22. Revolution: Fighting against oppressive systems and advocating for change.

23. Sacrifice: Putting others' needs above one's own and making difficult choices.

24. Fear: Overcoming fears and finding strength in the face of adversity.

25. Fame: Desiring recognition, acclaim, and celebrity status.

26. Identity: Discovering and understanding one's true self.

27. Empathy: Understanding and connecting with others' emotions and experiences.

28. Tradition: Upholding cultural or familial traditions and values.

29. Rebellion: Resisting authority and challenging the status quo.

[tapwater-made-everyone-gay]

!!!SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T LISTENED TO THE VENGEANCE SAGA OF EPIC THE MUSICAL!!!

I find it really interesting that people are so upset about the Poseidon loss, using “it’s weird that a mortal beat a god” when the whole thing with gods in Greek mythology is that they’re parallels to humans. That’s why they have emotions, human anatomy, feel pain, and bleed (even if it is ichor that comes out). There are multiple cases of gods being beaten by humans, primarily demigods, but still humans—MORTALS. What makes them so powerful is their domain. Take that away? They’re practically powerless.

Poseidon is shown to be arrogant, claiming that the only reason he’s still hunting Odysseus (DESPITE killing his men, teaching his lesson, and even likely knowing about the brutal siren deaths) is because “the top dog can’t be seen letting his prey go. How else can I send the message that I’m a big dog? It’ll ruin my reputation!” He’s a cocky bastard, playing with his prey, telling Odysseus to get in the water because it’s more entertaining to him than just getting his revenge and killing him then and there. He talks like he’s never felt pain in his life and doesn’t think he ever will because “the top dog is untouchable”.

But he forgets that he needs his domain, needs his range to keep himself from losing. When Odysseus pulls the same trick with the wind bag (which he should’ve seen coming), he isn’t ready, because he’s never had to fight that fight. Odysseus has, and he has the anger to push himself farther. The god gets downed (which has happened many times with many gods as discussed earlier), and he still acts cocky. Odysseus opened the bag. He can’t leave. But that knowledge—knowledge that he’s stuck here and will eventually die anyway—allows Odysseus to make his decision. He can hurt Poseidon for as long as he’s capable of, make him suffer just as much because, hey, he’s going to die anyway, right?

Now, Poseidon has an out. He can get rid of the storm before Odysseus even lays a hand on him, let him go home, and flood Ithaca like planned. But he doesn’t, because he’s so in his own head that he doesn’t realize the position he’s in. And then Odysseus makes the first stab, and then the other. It hurts, even more because, like I said, Poseidon has probably never felt this pain before. And Odysseus doesn’t plan on stopping, not until Poseidon calls off the storm. He’ll go until his arms stop working, and if Poseidon hadn’t given in, he probably would’ve.

Poseidon can’t stop him either because the wounds are made before the others can heal. Does this punishment seem familiar? It should, because it’s the exact same one given to Prometheus by Zeus. Truthfully, it’s a punishment made for a god.

I should probably stop here because this has gone on way too long, but I do understand why some people might think it’s weird. We’re raised to believe that any god is untouchable, that they’re all-powerful and incapable of harm, especially at human hands. But that’s not Greek mythology. Gods aren’t capable of death, but they are capable of suffering, and a lot of them do. Just because the one suffering this time is one of the “big three” doesn’t mean it’s unrealistic.

Epic’s message isn’t the same as the original, and it never has been. It’s about what you’re willing to sacrifice, how far you’re willing to go for your own gain, and what the repercussions are when you do. Poseidon really kick started that message hard, and I think it’s poetic that it ends with him facing the outcome of that message himself.

Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves, but it’s not the same being on the receiving end, is it?

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

[draxxton]

Noona

Kim Jiyeon(Bona X Male Character)

TW: Incest,Smut

(Hi guys, I'm new in writing so I took little help of AI, hope you guys will understand and this one is totally unedited so please ignore my spelling or grammatical mistakes)

-----------------------------

In the Winter cold streets of Seoul, Jiyeon navigated the crowded streets with a sense of urgency. The chilly autumn air nipped at her nose as she hurried through the throng of students and office workers. At twenty-eight, she carried herself with the poise of someone who had seen more than her fair share of life's hardships, yet her eyes held a spark of resilience that shone through the fatigue. With a quick glance at her watch, she sighed. She was running late again.

Jiyeon, known to her friends and family as Bona, had spent the morning preparing breakfast for her younger brother, Woo Bin. He was still asleep when she had left, a mountain of blankets obscuring his form in the small, shared apartment. At nineteen, Woo Bin was a typical teenager, caught in the whirlwind of college life and late-night gaming sessions. But to Bona, he was her responsibility, her pride, and the reason she pushed herself to the brink every day.

Her workplace, a small English language school tucked between a convenience store and a dry cleaner, was a place of refuge from their past. The students' eager faces and the steady hum of conversation filled the air with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold outside. Bona had worked here for the past five years, teaching eager minds and piecing together a life for herself and her brother. She had studied hard, juggling part-time jobs and her education to ensure they had food on the table and a roof over their heads.

As she approached the school, the smell of coffee and freshly printed textbooks greeted her. The door chimed as she stepped inside, and she was met with the familiar sight of her colleagues preparing for the day ahead. A pang of guilt twisted in her stomach; she knew they relied on her, and she never wanted to let them down. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was drowning in responsibilities, her own dreams slipping further and further away with each passing day.

"Bona, you're here," Miss Kim, the school's director, called out from behind her desk, her voice a mix of relief and reprimand.

Bona offered a quick, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for the delay. Woo Bin's alarm didn't go off again."

Miss Kim raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her expression a silent acknowledgment of the struggle Bona faced daily. Bona hastily hung her coat and grabbed her lesson plan from the neat stack on the counter. The other teachers exchanged knowing glances, some offering sympathetic nods. They had seen her come in late more times than she cared to admit, her dedication to her brother often spilling over into her work life.

The first class of the day was a group of middle-aged businessmen eager to improve their English for international dealings. As she stepped into the classroom, Bona took a deep breath, pushing her personal worries aside. She knew she had to be a beacon of energy and knowledge for her students, a role she took very seriously. The room was already buzzing with conversation, and she felt a flicker of excitement as she began to write on the board.

Woo Bin was a constant reminder of the sacrifices she had made. Their parents had abandoned them when they were young, leaving Bona to fend for herself and her little brother. But she had never let the weight of that responsibility crush her spirit. Instead, she had turned it into fuel for her drive to succeed. Her students, too, had their own struggles, and she found solace in knowing she could help them navigate the complexities of a new language, opening up opportunities that she had once only dreamed of for herself.

After a long day at work, Bona's feet ached as she stepped off the crowded subway, the cacophony of the city fading to a distant murmur as she approached their apartment. She juggled a bag of groceries with her work bag, her thoughts drifting to the dinner she would prepare for Woo Bin. It was the least she could do after another hectic day. She had promised to make his favorite dish, spicy stir-fried pork, to celebrate his recent victory in a college soccer tournament.

_______________________

"Noona, you're going to be late again," Woo Bin called out, his voice echoing through the small apartment they shared.

Bona, with her hair still wrapped in a towel, hurried into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the counter for the coffee pot. She found it half-empty and groaned. "How can you drink all the coffee again?" she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Woo Bin looked up from his phone, his mouth full of toast. He shrugged, flashing a mischievous grin. "You know I need it more than you," he teased.

Bona rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She poured herself a cup, the warmth and aroma offering a brief reprieve from the dreary morning. She took a sip, the bitter taste reminding her of the long day ahead. Teaching English to a class of rowdy high school students was no small feat, but she loved it. It was her escape from the weight of the world.

As she finished getting ready, she couldn't help but steal glances at her brother. His carefree spirit was infectious, and she often found herself wishing she could be more like him. Woo Bin had a way of finding joy in the simplest things-like the stray cat that had taken a liking to their building or the latest episode of a ridiculous reality show. She, on the other hand, was always so serious, burdened by the responsibilities that came with being the eldest.

But lately, Bona had noticed something different in her feelings for Woo Bin. It was a sensation that made her heart race and her palms sweat-feelings she didn't quite understand. She'd catch herself staring at him, her mind wandering to places it had never been before. She knew it was wrong, that society would never accept it, but she couldn't shake the emotions that seemed to be consuming her from the inside out.

"Noona, you okay?" Woo Bin's voice brought her back to reality. He was looking at her with concern, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

But as she walked out the door and into the crisp autumn air, she couldn't help but wonder if she was lying to herself. The weight of her secret grew heavier with each step she took, the world around her a blur of color and sound as she tried to push down the unspoken truth that threatened to shatter the life they had built together.

__________________________

After another hectic day of work Bona came back home. When she opened the door, the aroma of something sweet wafted towards her. Surprised, she dropped her bags and stepped into the kitchen to find Woo Bin standing over a mixing bowl, a spatula in hand. His eyes lit up when he saw her, a smear of flour on his cheek. "Noona, I made cake!" he exclaimed. It was a rare sight to see Woo Bin cook anything, much less bake. He was usually lost in his world of comic books and video games, so the sight of him donning an apron was a delightful change.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"No occasion," Woo Bin shrugged. "Just felt like doing something nice for you. You work so hard."

Jiyeon felt a warmth spread through her chest. "Thank you, Woo Bin. That's so thoughtful." She stepped closer to inspect the cake. It was a simple vanilla sponge with chocolate frosting, but it looked perfect, like something from a bakery. "It smells amazing," she said, inhaling deeply.

The next few days, Woo Bin continued to surprise her with little acts of kindness. He would leave notes in her lunchbox, telling her to have a good day, and when she came home, the apartment would be spotless. One evening, as she sat grading papers, he played her favorite songs on the guitar, his voice a soft melody in the background. The way he said "Noona" was starting to feel less like a term of endearment from a younger brother and more like a pet name from someone who cared deeply for her.

One weekend, they decided to visit the park together. The sun shone warmly on their faces as they strolled along the path, sharing stories and laughter. Woo Bin pointed out the blooming cherry blossoms, and without thinking, Jiyeon reached for his hand. It was a natural gesture, one she had done countless times before, but this time it felt different. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his warmth, and she looked up to find him looking at her with a peculiar expression. He didn't pull away, and their fingers intertwined as they continued walking.

On the way home, they stopped by a small street fair. The air was filled with the sound of laughter and the smell of sizzling street food. Woo Bin suggested they try their luck at the ring toss game. After a few failed attempts, he finally won a stuffed animal. He handed it to her with a proud smile, and she couldn't help but think how much he had grown since their parents had left them. His carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the solemn young boy she had raised.

That night, they decided to watch a romantic comedy, something they hadn't done since their childhood days. As they sat side by side on the couch, the warmth of his body radiating against hers, Jiyeon felt a newfound comfort in his presence. Whenever the couple on screen shared a kiss, she found herself glancing at Woo Bin, his eyes glued to the TV, a slight blush on his cheeks. It was as if the movie was mirroring the unspoken feelings growing between them.

One evening, while preparing dinner, Woo Bin playfully spoon-fed her a bite of the stew, insisting she taste his latest creation. The simple act was filled with so much affection that it made her heart flutter. She couldn't ignore the gentle way his eyes searched hers for approval, the way his smile grew when she praised his cooking. The word "Noona" rolled off his tongue with a softness that made her feel cherished, and she found herself craving the sound of it.

As the days went by, Jiyeon found it increasingly difficult to suppress her growing feelings. Every time Woo Bin called her "Noona," it felt like a sweet caress that echoed through her soul. She would catch herself staring at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his warmth against hers. Yet fear clutched at her heart. What if she was the only one feeling this way? What if her love was one-sided and her brother only saw her as the responsible guardian she had always been?

Their bond grew stronger, their interactions filled with an unspoken understanding. Woo Bin started to notice the way she looked at him, the gentle touches that lingered a second too long, the blush that crept up her neck when they were close. He was confused by these new feelings but couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him whenever she was near.

One rainy afternoon, while they were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie, the plot reached a romantic climax. The couple on screen shared a passionate kiss, and Woo Bin felt his heart race. He glanced at Jiyeon, her eyes glued to the screen, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, his heart pounding in his chest. She froze, then turned to look at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He searched her gaze, trying to gauge her reaction.

For days, she had been fighting an internal battle, her thoughts torn between her love for Woo Bin as a brother and the new, uncharted feelings that had started to bloom. Every time he called her "Noona," she felt a warmth spread through her, tinged with a longing that she couldn't quite understand. She had always been his protector, his caretaker, but now she craved more.

Jiyeon tried to focus on her work, teaching English to her eager students, but her mind kept drifting to the quiet moments she shared with Woo Bin. The way his eyes lit up when he understood a difficult concept, the way his laughter filled the apartment when they watched movies together, and the comforting weight of his head on her shoulder as they fell asleep after a long day. She felt guilty for her thoughts, but she couldn't help the way her heart raced when he was near.

As the days turned into weeks, the rain grew less frequent, but the tension between them grew stronger. She found herself dressing more carefully around him, hoping to catch his eye, and cooking his favorite meals in an attempt to bring them closer. Each time she called him "Woo Bin," she felt a strange thrill at the sound of his name on her lips, and when he called her "Noona," she wished he could see the blush that painted her cheeks.

Bona would often find herself lost in thought during her English lessons, the words on the textbook pages blurring together as she pondered over the potential consequences of her feelings. She knew that confessing her love to Woo Bin could shatter the bond they had carefully built over the years, but the thought of living a lie was becoming unbearable. Her stomach would tie in knots at the mere thought of rejection, and she would spend countless nights lying awake, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain outside, wondering if he felt the same.

The apartment they shared had become a minefield of emotions, every corner holding a memory of their shared past and the unspoken tension of their present. The silence grew heavier, charged with unspoken words and unacknowledged glances that lingered a second too long. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the sweetness of their mother's old perfume, which she had discovered in a dusty box in the back of their closet. It was a bittersweet reminder of the love they had been denied, and the love that now threatened to consume them both.

Bona felt the burden of her secret weighing on her like a boulder, straining her relationship with Woo Bin. She knew she had to be careful; one wrong move could shatter the delicate balance they had maintained for so long. Yet, every time she saw the way his hair fell over his eyes as he studied, or the way his smile grew shy when she praised him, she felt the urge to reach out and brush away the lock, to tell him everything that was in her heart.

The rain had become a constant backdrop to their lives, a symbol of the tumultuous emotions they both held within. Each drop that fell outside seemed to echo the unspoken words between them. Every time she saw Woo Bin's fingers trace the spine of a book or the way he bit his lip in concentration, she had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss him. The thought of his soft lips against hers was a temptation that grew stronger with each passing day.

Her fear of rejection was a heavy burden that weighed on her shoulders, a fear that she couldn't shake off even when the world around her seemed to be moving on. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if the love she had nurtured as a sister was met with disgust or confusion? The thought of losing him was more than she could bear, but the desire to be with him was a fire that burned within her, growing stronger with every shared smile and every comforting touch.

One evening, as they sat together in the living room, the silence between them was palpable. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a serene quiet that seemed to demand their attention. Woo Bin looked up from his book, his gaze meeting hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a spark of understanding in his eyes. Her heart raced, and she leaned in slightly, the distance between them closing like the pages of a book she had read a hundred times but never quite understood until now.

The hesitation grew heavier, a tangible force that seemed to push and pull at her. What if he didn't feel the same? What if she had been reading too much into their shared moments? The fear of losing him was a cold hand around her heart, but she couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through her body every time he was near. She took a deep breath, her eyes searching his, looking for any sign that would tell her it was okay to take that final step.

Woo Bin closed his book, his eyes meeting hers with a softness she hadn't seen before. "Noona," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've noticed that something has changed between us." The room felt as if it was spinning, the air thick with unspoken truths. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she nodded, unable to form words.

"I've felt it too," she managed to say, her voice trembling. "But I'm afraid. What if this isn't what you want?"

Woo Bin reached out and took her hand, his touch sending a jolt through her body. "I've felt it, too, Noona," he confessed, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "But I don't want to lose you. You're all I have."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and for a moment, the world stopped. Bona felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a cliff, the winds of doubt and fear pushing her closer to the precipice. She knew that she had to be honest with him, no matter the outcome. She couldn't live with the secret anymore.

With each day that passed, the distance between them grew smaller, their gestures more intimate, their conversations more loaded with meaning. Yet, she remained cautious, not wanting to push him away. She knew that once she confessed her feelings, there would be no going back. They would either be bound together by love or torn apart by the very bond that had kept them afloat all these years.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching their favorite TV show, a romantic scene played out on the screen. Bona felt a pang in her heart, wishing she could share such moments with Woo Bin. The laughter from the show filled the room, but the silence between them was deafening. Her hand inched closer to his, and she could feel the warmth of his skin. She took a deep breath, her heart racing like a wild horse in her chest.

Woo Bin glanced at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine. He reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. The simple gesture was like a declaration of his own feelings, and she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. The hesitation was still there, but it was now mixed with hope.

Without another word, Bona leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips to his. His initial surprise melted away, and he returned the kiss with a passion that left her breathless. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer as their mouths moved in perfect sync, exploring and tasting each other with a hunger that had been building for months. His hand found its way to her hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers in a silent promise of what was to come.

Woo Bin's hand slid down her back, cupping her ass, and she moaned into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of desire straight to his cock. He had dreamed of this moment, of feeling her body against his, of hearing the sweet sounds she made when she was lost in passion. He broke the kiss, his eyes searching hers, looking for confirmation that this was what she truly wanted. The love and need in her gaze was all the answer he needed.

With trembling hands, he unbuttoned her blouse, his lips tracing a path down her neck as he revealed her lacy bra. He gently unhooked it, freeing her breasts, and took one in his mouth, rolling her nipple with his tongue. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he knew she was his, that she felt the same all-consuming passion that he did. They stood up, their bodies entwined, and she reached for his belt, her hands shaking with excitement. He helped her, his own need growing with every second that passed, until his pants fell to the floor, revealing his hard cock.

He stepped back, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, half-dressed and beautiful. "Noona," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "are you sure about this?"

Bona nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she whispered, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "I love you, Woo Bin."

Woo Bin's eyes searched hers, the weight of her confession sinking in. He felt a rush of emotions, love, and longing that he had never experienced before. "Noona," he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion, "I love you too."

Their kiss grew more intense as they stumbled towards her bedroom, the need to be closer overwhelming them. She pushed him onto the bed, her hands exploring every inch of his bare chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath her fingertips. He reached up to pull her down on top of him, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces that had finally found their place.

Woo Bin slid his hand down her back, his fingers slipping into the waistband of her skirt. With one swift motion, he pulled it down, revealing the matching lace panties that left little to the imagination. His cock throbbed with anticipation, and she could feel it pressing against her through the fabric of his boxers. She kissed him again, her tongue dancing with his as she fumbled with the button of his shirt. He helped her, his own hands shaking as he peeled it off, revealing his toned abs and the trail of hair that led down to the waistband of his pants.

He slid his hand into her panties, his finger brushing against her wet pussy, and she moaned against his lips. He stroked her gently, feeling her body respond to his touch. Bona reached down and took his cock in her hand, her eyes widening at the size and heat of him. She had never felt anything so alive, so vital. He groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upward, and she knew he was close to the edge.

They kissed with an intensity that seemed to burn away all the years of restraint, their tongues dancing together as their hands explored each other's bodies. Bona pulled away from his mouth, her breath coming in short gasps, and looked into his eyes. "Woo Bin," she murmured, "make love to me."

Woo Bin nodded, his eyes filled with a fierce love that made her heart race even faster. He slid her panties down, exposing her bare pussy to the cool air of the room. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, the soft curves and the sweet scent that was uniquely hers. He slid a finger inside her, feeling her wetness, and she gasped, her body arching towards him. He added another, then another, his thumb circling her clit as he watched her face contort with pleasure.

Bona could feel the orgasm building, her body tightening around his fingers, but she didn't want to come yet. She wanted to feel him inside her, to know that they were truly one. She reached down and pulled his boxers off, his cock springing free, thick and hard. She took him in her hand, stroking him gently as she positioned herself over him. She slid down, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her, and they both groaned in unison.

Their movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust a declaration of love and need. Bona's eyes never left Woo Bin's, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the emotions play across his face. His eyes were filled with love and passion, and she knew that this was right, that this was where she was meant to be. She leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Cum inside me, Woo Bin. Make me pregnant with your child."

Woo Bin's eyes widened at her words, the reality of what they were doing hitting him like a ton of bricks. But the love in her voice, the desperation in her plea, was all he needed to hear. He picked up his pace, driving into her with a fervor that left her breathless. She could feel him getting closer, his cock swelling inside her tight pussy, and she whispered sweet nothings in his ear, urging him on.

"Noona," he groaned, "I'm going to cum."

Bona nodded, her own climax approaching like a wave crashing against the shore. "Cum inside me," she panted, the words a desperate plea. "I want to feel you fill me up."

Woo Bin couldn't hold back anymore. With a guttural groan, he thrust deep into her, his cock pulsing as he released his load, filling her up with his hot seed. Bona's eyes rolled back in her head as she came, her body shaking with pleasure. She felt complete, as if she had found the missing piece to a puzzle she had been searching for her entire life.

They lay there, panting and tangled in each other's arms, the sweat on their bodies mingling like their emotions. "Noona," Woo Bin murmured, his voice still thick with desire, "I never knew it could be like this."

Bona couldn't agree more. The love she had felt for him as a sister had transformed into something more profound, more intense than she could have ever imagined. She had been holding onto her secret for so long, afraid of what it could do to their relationship, but now that it was out in the open, she felt lighter than air. "Me neither," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his. "But I'm so glad it's you."

Woo Bin kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body as if he couldn't get enough of her. He slid down the bed, his mouth tracing a path down her neck, across her collarbone, and down to her breasts. His tongue circled her nipples, teasing and sucking until she was arching her back in pleasure. He kissed his way down her stomach, his hands pushing her thighs apart. "Noona," he murmured, "you're so beautiful."

He kissed the inside of her thighs, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. He could feel her pussy getting wetter with every touch, and it was driving him wild. He slid a finger inside her, feeling her tighten around him, and she gasped. "Woo Bin," she whispered, her voice a soft plea. He knew she was ready, so he positioned himself between her legs, his cock poised at her entrance.

He pushed into her, inch by inch, watching her face contort with pleasure. "Noona," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and love. She felt so warm, so welcoming around him, and he knew that this was where he belonged. They moved together, their bodies in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge. "I love you," he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.

Bona's heart swelled with happiness at his words. She had always loved him, but now, she knew that their love had grown into something more. Something that she had never dared to hope for. "Woo Bin," she breathed, her voice filled with emotion, "I love you too."

They kissed again, their tongues exploring each other's mouths with a newfound hunger. Woo Bin's hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves and memorizing every inch of her. Bona felt like she was melting into him, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this moment.

"Noona," he murmured against her lips, "I love you."

Bona felt the world around them fade away as she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of his touch driving her wild. She didn't know if she could handle the intensity of her emotions, but she knew she had to try. She kissed him back, her tongue sliding against his, and she felt a jolt of electricity run through her body. Woo Bin's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, as if he never wanted to let her go.

__________________________________

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT CAVEMAN SIMON AND VILLAGER READER.

synopsis: spring has come, and with it the time for sacrifices to someone, who lives far from people and scares everyone who pokes their noses into the forest, and what could be better than bribing the one you fear, so you were chosen as the one who will bear all the gifts deep into the forest.

cw: fluff, comfort, smut, possible dubcon, story set not in modern time and might be unrealistic, not based on real knowledge about cave people, possible ooc simon since he's a caveman, virgin reader, mentions of cannibalism (not in action), biting, licking, groping, simon is rough around the edges, pet names, cunnilingus with dubious consent, simon is inexperienced, male and female intimacy, many mentions of bare flesh, overstimulation, crying, aftercare, kinda kidnapping. pairing: caveman simon ghost riley x villager fem reader

author's note: this idea was born from an absolutely spontaneous conversation with @suimon, and i'm grateful to her, because without her encouragement i wouldn't decide to write such an interesting story, which is kind of new for me, but i still hope those who will read it enjoy, it's my first attempt on writing this kind of plot, that ended up being 4.5k words.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵��𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

long melted snow, allowing fresh green grass to break through the once dissipated white fluff of snow, bright flowers decorating endless meadows and forests surrounding the village exactly along the perimeter — all this brings with it spring, warm weather, fresh juicy fruits and vegetables, and after them the time for a sacrifices.

behind the forest clearing, where the trees become thicker and seem to be getting darker, lives one whose cave, the exact location of which not many people know, are afraid to approach, and you never heard the exact answer, the exact reason, but everyone was afraid of this place more than fire, but were justified by a man who was frightening to the point of trembling, as if they had seen a living ghost.

naturally, you had never seen him, and you treated his stories as if they were fairy tales — an attempt to intimidate the kids from going too far during walks, nothing more, or so it seemed to you, until you were chosen as the one who would go to him with the onset of spring with fertile gifts, an attempt to appease the so-called monster, which terrifies the entire village with its very existence, and you couldn’t understand why you should go to the one you’re afraid of, and also with gifts?

but one way or another, it was not in your authority to refuse the election of the head of the village and the people, so you were dressed up in the best dress from your meager wardrobe, the white fabric flowing to your feet seemed as soft as silk, an absolutely light linen, diluted a wreath woven from fresh, sickly sweet flowers, and in your hands a basket of the freshest fruits and vegetables, with a rope on your wrist, a thick plexus leading to the neck of a good, well-fed cow, the devil knows what he will do with the poor, as you would think, animal, but one way or another — your task is to give, even if you looked the most appetizing here.

walking through the forest is difficult, especially when, of all the attempts to navigate, you only have — “go straight ahead and stop when you see the cave„ and the only thing left to do is to listen, periodically stop when the cow bends down to nibble fresh grass, and then walk again until feeling of dull pain in the legs, due to the fact that making your way through trees and large branches with almost bare feet is uncomfortable, a little painful, and you have to pick up the white dress in your hands so as not to get it dirty, trying to maintain a festive look as possible, not drop the basket, and still get to this damned place.

more and more doubts creep into your head, maybe no one lives there at all, or does, but it’s just a wild animal, and villagers just couldn’t see it in the dark clearlier?

but it’s hard to believe that in the thicket, which every time becomes darker and denser, in which there are more and more bushes and broken branches, and somewhere where there are even tree trunks lying — someone really lives, and while thoughts are wandering around your head like a prodigal wind, and the path completely disappears under your feet, you finally reach the right place, meeting your eyes with a stone cave, assembled from stones in a stable structure, sprinkled with greenery, moss and tree trunks.

really someone’s abode, albeit open, and looking as if it could become your undoing.

even the poor animal seems to be enveloped in fear, the cow bursts into a loud moo, resting her hooves on the ground, and with all due respect, you cannot push such a weight behind you, but you will not let her escape, tying the poor thing by a rope and to a tree trunk nearby, allowing her to calm down a little, to be distracted by tufts of grass, while your gaze rushes forward into the darkness of the cave, and your legs tremble slightly.

— “well.. here i come, cave man, huh..„ slips from your lips encouragingly to your own self, although your voice trembles, but you cannot return to the village with the same full hands, and in any case, you will most likely be sent again after this, damn old people, so the only way is forward.

the branches crunch under your feet, it seems to you, until you notice glimpses of animal bones, and it’s as if you are tugging from the inside, your step immediately quickens, and you practically stumble, clutching the basket to your chest and swallowing nervously, saying in your mind over and over — “it doesn't belonged to someone, it doesn't belonged to someone„ but it didn’t get any easier, as if the deeper you went, the more terrible it became, there was only pitch darkness ahead, not planning to make way for you even for a second, so you walk, almost blindly, closing one eye and making your way with the other.

— “is.. is someone there? hello??„

your voice echoes against the stone walls, but it becomes clearer under your feet, and a little brighter ahead, so you continue to walk even despite the dead silence, step by meek step, getting out to the center of the cave, where the walls become wider, and your eyes get used to darkness, letting small details immediately scatter before your eyes — some kind of wooden cabinet, a small rectangular table with a single chair, and above it a shelf with plates, everything is just like in your own house in the village, however, the bed is not very similar to the usual one, full of skins, located quite low, and you hesitantly step deeper, saying

— “hey?.. i'm, uhm.. i mean no harm, hello? someone?„

your voice sounds a little quieter, patient, as you walk to the table and allow yourself to place that same basket on it, carefully adjusting it along with the vegetables and fruits mixed in it, before moving away, smiling at the more welcoming composition, besides, it decorated a small surrounding emptiness, you even forgot for a while that you were in a cave, you felt comfortable, until the moment you turned around, noticing a dark figure in the corner that turned around sharply, and you screamed uncontrollably.

a large, massive figure in the very corner of the cave turns to face you, demonstrating its immensity and body, hidden under only one piece of fabric, vaguely reminiscent of pants, but what catches you, or rather scares you, is the skull attached to his face, and the skull would be less frightening if it belonged to an animal, but the shape was human like, separated from the back and leaving only the front, somehow attached to a dark piece of fabric stretched over the man’s face, showing the world only his sunken, dark eyes.

simon overreacts to the sound, furrowing his brows and clenching his hands into fists that hang on either side of his wide hips, not liking it when someone barges in uninvited, especially like this, but watching you shake like a cornered rabbit , he softens, and at the same time resolutely begins to walk in your direction, without warning, which makes your heart jump right up to your throat and back into your chest when you calm a bit inside, but still take a couple of steps back from approaching figure.

— “uh, h-hi? i'm sorry, i must scared you.. i-i screamed pretty loud, yeah?„

you babble, the words fly out of your soft lips hastily and with an attempt to justify yourself, and he freezes, breathing somehow displeasedly through his nose and causing his bare chest to heave, but still, he grumbles somehow approvingly, tilting his head to the side, as if having mercy on you and giving the opportunity to justify yourself, and you don’t dare to miss it.

— “uh, i was sent from village, you know, not far from here! i brought you some fresh vegetables and fruits, and cow.. you know, that does moo„ the words come out in one breath, while you spin around, pointing first at the basket that suddenly appeared on his table, then towards the exit, talking about the cow, telling him about it as if you were talking to a child, as if mistaking him for a completely savage, and simon squeezes out a rough, dry laugh, crossing his burly arms over his wide, scarred chest, cutting off your explanations

— “i know what a cow is„

his voice is hoarse, tart like coffee beans on the tongue, and you stop, taking a deep breath.

simon has already realized that you are from that stupid village full of fools who take him for some terrible animal, but instead of the usual fear like in other people’s eyes, in yours he sees some doubt and sincere guilt, like in a child’s who was scolded by his parents, and this causes amusement in his gaze, a flutter in his light eyelashes

— “i'm, sorry.. it's just, the villagers acted like you are some kind of wild animal, and i.. i thought..„

the words get confused in your head and on your tongue, one way or another, you, even if not for long, believed to the words of the people living in the village, believed that he was less human than many, now trying to justify his honor and your words, standing under his gaze and trembling as if leaf in the wind, your legs shook as you squeezed them together, feeling his strange, ardent gaze where your plush thighs began behind the thin fabric, and goosebumps ran down your skin as his lips stretched into a wide, wild grin.

you stand before his eyes like a prettiest gift, a prey — you are shaking like a little rabbit, or a newborn doe, as if your legs are about to lose control of your weight and collapse on the stone floor, even though a carpet of someone’s skin lies under your feet, he wouldn’t want you to return back to the village in a deplorable state, or maybe you yourself were sent as a sacrifice?

he doesn't know, because you look incredibly attractive and alluring in that light outfit with just panties underneath, the silhouette of the fabric of which he can see on your hips before his gaze goes up to where your round, soft breasts are hiding under the finest cloth, and up to the strands of your hair, decorated with a wreath of fresh flowers, he knows it by the sweet smell and by the fact that he has already seen such in the forest, and simon has never tasted people, has not eaten human flesh — but looking at you, at the softness, at the sweetness, maybe he should give it a try?

— “i never tasted human flesh before„ words roll off his tongue in advance of rational thoughts, a rich baritone from the thin line of pale lips behind the fabric of the mask and the shape of the skull where he licks them like a predator.

and you are theprey, the one which trembles and whose eyes widen when you hear his unexpected speech, wild, causing the blood in your veins to freeze and your legs to obey the instinct of escape, and you take off from your place, turn around on the thin sole of your sandals and move your body towards the exit and impenetrable the darkness from which you came, which previously let you in — and will no longer let you go without the permission of its owner.

you can’t even hear simon’s steps behind you, because of how adrenaline is pumping in your ears and blood echoes like white noise in the background, as his figure wraps around yours like a shadow and pulls you, he clings to the light fabric with dirty fingers and squeezes with a heavy weight around your waist, first with his fingers, then with his hand, heavy bonds that drag you into the air and there’s no point in even twitching your legs, he immediately turns you around in his arms, places your soft flesh in his palms, relishing in the softness, warmth, fingers greedily kneading the soft, supple skin between his fingers on top of the now slightly stained fabric, pressing you into a cold stone wall as you close your eyes tightly.

your body is trembling, you’re waiting for the touch of someone else’s teeth on your body, a sharp flash of pain, surrendering to the clutches of creeping death in the guise of a person without resistance, having resigned yourself in advance, even on the threshold of this cave, even when the dark, densely trees swallowed you in the depths of the forest, but no pain comes, no sensation of rough, sharp teeth in the skin, just his hands that slide from your butt, where he shamelessly touched you, to your hips and thighs, tracing the skin and bones over your dress, forcing you to twitch, squeezing your legs together.

something inside you is twisting shamefully hotly, curling into a coil in your lower abdomen and setting all your nerve endings on fire, you still don’t look, your eyelashes and eyelids are trembling, and simon takes pleasure in your instinctive fear, akin to the animals he mercilessly catches in the depths of the forest, kneeling in front of you just as he once knelt in front of them, but you were distinguished from a dead animal by your vitality, sweet aroma, soft warm body which he wanted to taste until greedily accumulating saliva in his mouth.

— “pretty„

he growls low from his throat, causing you to flush with a flash of blush, your fingertips prickling nervously, it seems that he’s saying this from a sadistic point of view, not really to you, rather than to your body, to what he will eat, and you refuse to look at the eyes of your fear, even when rough, calloused hands run along your legs until he lays them on his broad shoulders, lifts up the dress that gets in the way, exposes the skin to your thighs and carelessly leaves them rumpled to dangle there, when his bare mouth pierces your skin and licks.

your eyes immediately widen following the hitching breath that flies through your parted lips, and you look at him, this beast, this man, standing in front of you on both knees, and even between your legs he seems immense, but strangely tender, when he licks and gently bites a path to your thighs along the soft flesh, pressing his nose into it, you see it’s slightly crooked form briefly, the black fabric falls to cover everything except his mouth, which greedily tastes you like no one has ever tasted.

his dark eyes meet yours fleetingly, yours are frightened, his are peaceful and satisfied, the corners of his lips rise forward and spread on his face, and you feel every movement of his lips on you in dangerous proximity as he crawls higher and higher, settling between supple thighs with his head, sticking his nose and mouth into a place that attracts him with sweetness and wetness, a small sticky spot on the thin fabric, into which he buries himself greedily, opening his mouth wide and licking the fat stripe along your panty clad pussy, burying his nose in your twitching clit and grinning at the reaction of your body, as well as at the quiet, ringing moan that arose from the depths of your throat.

the light, thin fabric gets wet from the amount of saliva in his mouth, mixing with the moisture that is released from your hot, bothered pussy, causing the gusset of your panties become almost transparent, as simon buries himself deeper, without asking, he just takes it, squeezing your thighs until there is a slight, uncomfortable pain burning on your skin, as your legs kick forward and attempt to squeeze together because of the new sensations that you don’t understand, didn’t experienced before, but he’s not going to let you escape just yet, but you squeak, a shushed, soft sound, which makes him soften nonetheless.

simon's gaze studies you through his light eyelashes, he sees the conflicting emotions on your face, how your chest is heaving, how moisture collects on your lash line, threatening to release and turn into tears, so his arms wrap around and squeeze your legs a little more carefully, stroking the soft skin with awkward, uncertain circular movements of his fingers, he hasn’t interacted with people for a long time, especially in the moments like these, when his face is buried between your thighs while he laps lightly against your panties.

fear slowly leaves your body along with rational thoughts, you lose your vigilance in the hands of a stranger, a person who shamelessly touches your private parts, but touches you so well, so carefully, igniting that warmth in the bottom of your belly more and more each time and allowing you to twitch, squirm as much as it possible while being held half in the air, thus only pushing your hips forward, towards his wet mouth, and shuddering with pleasure and new flashes when his nose nuzzles harder into your little clit, making your toes curl, and he growls.

— “so sweet„

comes out as a muffled growl, and you don’t know if he’s talking about you or your pussy, but he licks you more actively, making your folds stick to the absolutely wet fabric of your panties, while he slurps and sucks your folds and clit, his movements are messy, uncertain, he's been isolated from people and any contact with them with his own hands, but that doesn't stop him from having a taste, as his tongue runs between your folds and he continues to tease you with slow, exploring movements.

you make more and more unusual to yourself sounds, quiet moans, breathy mewls, wet squelches that he swallows whole as your hands find support on his head and you dig your fingers into his mask, as you grow more and more impatient in your movements, just in time when simon gets tired of this unnecessary, wet piece of fabric, a barrier to the sweetest fruit and nectar in his life, so he bares his teeth and clings to the waistband of your underwear, helping himself with his fingertips and tearing them away down your legs, exposing your fluttering, wet hole to his hungry eyes and mouth.

the mere sight leaves him swelling with hardness in his pants, and your gaze catches on the silhouette of his cock, leaning heavily against his meaty thigh and bulging against the thin fabric, one little sight had you swallowwing nervously before your eyes roll back from the sharp contact of his bare lips with your bare cunt, he swipes his thick tongue once, twice, licking your wet folds and slurping your juices as an endless source of quenching his thirst, he licks and licks until you begin to lose yourself in how long you've been in this position, where your folds and clit swell, and simon just presses himself unexpectedly deeper before suddenly diving in further.

a loud sigh and a whiny moan spread through the cave, his tongue curls at the tip, when he accidentally, but with pressure, pushes your folds apart and into your fluttering hole, his tongue flattens against your entrance, before licking and thrusting inside, into the warmth of your velvety walls that tighten around his muscle right there, and he growls with satisfaction, akin to a muffled purr, moving his head up and down, smearing his entire jaw and lips in your slick, surrendering fully to your softness and warmth.

every movement of his tongue inside leaves you trembling, your legs intuitively spread apart further along his broad shoulders, your hips find a natural rhythm and constantly buck forward with every lick of his fat tongue against your walls and his sucking on your clit, noticing what reaction it causes in you and trying to hear more of your absolutely innocent, wanton squeaks and moans, enjoying the knowledge that you act and feel this way because of his actions, so he presses his knees into the stone floor harder and leans forward further.

your stomach twists more and more, and you push his face away from you with sharp, broken whimpers, when his tongue touches your spongy spot again and again, your body seems to be engulfed in flames, your spine arches away from the wall, resting your entire weight on his face and curling over him, breathing loudly and shakily when the tip of his tongue thrust rapidly, abusing your sweet, spongy spot with his hungry, drooling mouth.

he only grunts as you lean your full weight on him, continuing his assault on your throbbing and clenching hole, alternating between grazing his tongue against your folds and clit, or thrusting his muscle deep inside your core in fast, albeit languid movements, just until your loud whimpers and hoarse mewls echo against his stone walls, and your stomach twists and turns as your body convulses in an unexpected feeling of sudden orgasm, cunt clenches and pulsates around his tongue, letting go of your sweet slick and milky cum for him to have, covering his chin and mouth in the huge amount of liquid that he actively drink and lap up, opening his mouth wide and licking you clean, drinking till the last drop.

simon doesn’t stop, as if not knowing the line, which he doesn’t really know, continuing to run his tongue against your slit and cling to your hole, as he sukles on your clit, your whole body is buzzing strangely, your head begins to ache from the endless pleasure and overstimulation that his actions and touches bring, making everything between your legs swell and tingle, you desperately claw his bare back with your hands, adding to the scarred canvas of his flesh, trying to push, resist, but he doesn’t care, right until a loud sob escapes your lips.

he reacts instantly, making something close to a questioning grumble before retreating slightly between your legs, licking his thin lips around the edges and all your fluids on your thighs, you hang on him like a sack of potatoes, trying to grab his back with your hands and at the same time not allowing him to move away from you normally, quietly, pitifully sobbing, which cause him to growl, and with a rough grip of his wide hands on your hips, unhook you from him.

simon holds you more carefully, more gently, his hands are still shamelessly squeezing and pawing your hips, going down to the swell of your plush ass, touching the skin and also pulling down your dress to cover you and provide you with the minimum comfort possible in your position, where your panties lie torn on the floor, and endless salty tears flow down your raw, cowered in slight blush cheeks, and he feels even more sympathy for you than all the times before, frowning his light eyebrows and pursing his lips.

— “don't cry..„

he mutters in frustration, carefully releasing one hand from under your butt to carefully wipe the wetness of tears from your cheeks, while you sniff your reddened nose, your head and body pulsating with a strange surge of fatigue, there's still an uncontrollable throb between your legs, and the very thought of this feeling makes you sad, as your eyelids gradually get heavier with a dissatisfied whine escaping from the depths of your throat.

— “shh„

simon whispers quietly, shamelessly moving his face closer to yours to lick your wet cheeks, making you frown and grimace, resting your hands weakly on his shoulders before he gently begins to rock you in his bulky arms and press you against his chest, changing your position so that he supports you under your knees and your back rests comfortably on his thick bicep, curling up, and you no longer care about everything that happens.

you were in a comfortable, floating state between sleep and consciousness, not struggling or scratching like most of the little preys he meet, allowing him to carry you carefully away from the far wall and to a place that vaguely resembled a human bed, full of soft animal skins and located closer to the floor, on which he lays you down and immediately wraps you in the warmth of various furs, fleetingly touching the top of your head while carefully stroking your hair, reaching to the already slightly tattered wreath with flowers and throwing it away somewhere, to which you don’t even react, on the contrary, you cuddle in response to his touch with your head and face.

this makes him chuckle hoarsely, a sound that makes your skin crawl, but he carefully lays you down more comfortably and strokes your warm cheek, going down to your shoulder and drawing the same awkward circles here with the tip of his finger until you are taken into deep sleep, first with your mind, then with your body, allowing your eyes to close and plunge into darkness in a place unfamiliar to you, going limp and burying your nose in fur that smells sharply of musk, something tartly foresty and reminiscent of him, plunging you even deeper and further in viscious sleep, following the rough whisper, that is contrasting with his careful, soft touches.

— “sleep well, my pretty sacrifice„

simon mumbles practically under his breath, his dark eyes following every flutter of your eyelashes and the sigh that slips from your parted lips, before making sure that you are in a deep sleep and getting himself up from his haunches, the movement is accompanied by a slight crunch of bones and a grumble from his lips, he looks around his own cave, a torn, damp cloth lying on the floor, a wreath with scattered petals and a basket with some sort of offerings on the table, which he will use later.

for now he rests his hands on his hips, licking his slightly dry lips and looking at the prominent weight between his legs, resting against the fabric of his pants and responding with warm, tingling arousal and slight drippling moisture, but he will take care of this later, for now, simon will collect all the unnecessary garbage from the floor and get it as far away as possible, and then take care of the cow you brought with you from the village, even if he doesn't prefer to use meat from someone else's hands, he can definitely let it pass now, because he will need to persuade you to stay with him, as soon as you wake up.

simon will not allow something like you to escape, he has denied himself contact and warmth for too long, and now, having touched the forbidden fruit, he knows one thing for sure — he will never let it go again and will not refuse it, so you are in his abode for a long time.