#but its still as debilitating as ever

[adambomb82]

.

[clansunsharp]

since i cant put this in her bio on site: perenth's actual job title is Supreme Bitch

[mochinomnoms]

*blinks at u* hey so my brain is eating itself and this won't let me sleep so

*pulls out a megaphone* NSFW ALERT

Okay yes octotrio foursome i know for a fact that the tweels love making their sweet partners forget about their insecurities for a moment yuu and zuzu are mostly receiving WE KNOW THOSE TWO EELS ARE CUNTS (affectionately) and like overstimulating, sweet aftercare is clearly followed but now? They know you and Azul are very spent but oh how they love to bring out such debilitating states out of you two, voices breaking and thighs trembling wanting to stop and close "Too much!" they coo and tease in response "You can take more right?" it is their form of making you two take a break! Making your bones feel like jelly and mushing your brains up, forget about anything now darling! Feels too good to stop right?

Both of those greedy bastards get you and Azul into missionary, the dominant hands of each twin on your hips to hold them in place while the other can bring even more attention to your sensitive zones, so so messy! The amount of lube mixed with saliva and semen that coated yours and Azul's inner thighs from the previous positions, the three of your partners do love to pick apart and see what makes each scenerie unique so sounds, states everything is so important to them! The sloppy sounds that Azul causes when he thrusts into you and how with this position you two can clearly see what's going on, bodies trailed with hickys and bite marks you get masturbated by Floyd while Jade fingers Azul all while still going! Seeing how Jade looks down at you, you can see how he is whispering on Azul's ear giving light kisses every now and then along his neck. They know how much these little things can do for you two, they know and want to make the most of it! After some time of weakly thrusting the twins make Azul fill you up they eat up every breathless noises being made (they also made sure you and Azul held eye contact when bringing you two to the edge don't worry!)

Finally the twins seem satisfied with the state you two are in.. Maybe they can make it even better, Azul was catching his breath and then Floyd decided to steadily masturbate Azul's still twitching dick —"C'mon Azul we wanna see you paint shirmpy's body too!" —"Fufu~ you still have energy left Floyd?" —"Always have energy to make our little mates cum~" Azul threw his head back as he came again this time spilling on your abdomen

What a mess! Don't worry though you and Azul can go into the bath while the twins change the sheets, make small snacks prepare the wedding ceremony pull out fresh pijamas everything is ready for cuddling maybe taking a nap, watching something.. Or even just talking if you even can with your sore throat

They love, love you two this is just one of the many moments that make your relationship so special

AaaaaAAaAAaH this is the very first time I ever write something let alone smut! English isn't my mother tongue and I have forgotten how puntuaction commas or dots went! But this is very feeling charged hope that you can still get it! I think that now I can go curl up on my blankets and get some heavy sleep :3 nighty night Mochi!!

-Vaquita 🐄 (hope this isn't thrown in the dust.. I spent time on it and it could be forgotten forever ;( dramatically sobbing rn)

(you need to sleep love its good for the soul)

Omg no this is really good! I love when polyoctotrio includes the twins loving on Azul too, it feeds my soul! I think they really do get a kick out of overstimulating their partners, especially for someone as high-strung as Azul.

It gets frustrating when he gets too focused on work and starts ignoring his lovers. More so when their little Shrimp is running around busy with Grim and Crowley's tasks. The twins are feeling neglected by BOTH of their partners, what a sin!

The remedy? They con you two into coming into the bedroom to "relax" and unfortunately for you and Azul, relax means literally fucking the brains out of your head until you're too dumb to remember what you were supposed to do the next day.

The nice thing is, at the end, Azul is so sweet when he's like this! All the stress, and thoughts in general, are out of his mind and only filled with thoughts of his partners! He's so cuddly to the point that it's almost funny, with how Floyd has to pry his arms off you to properly wash you in the bath. It's awfully cute, so are you, though! You're clutching at Azul all the same, cherishing his affection as Jade attempts to dress you in your pajamas. Eventually the two get you both in bed again, curled into each other and practically knocking out the moment your heads hit the pillows.

A lovely polycule to be sure!

[gallantblade]

Mithrun Dungeon Meshi is probably my favorite disabled character ever, largely because his disability is completely invisible to anyone who doesn't know him, entirely internal/mental, and still INCREDIBLY, INARGUABLY debilitating. But at the same time he's not a one-note sob story; he's a driven and intelligent person who just needs a great deal of support and understanding. And he gets it! Originally because he is useful, but even just by the time he first appears on screen he has at least one person who genuinely values his health and survival.

And then the end of his arc as the manga comes to a close is just perfect! He'll never get back what he lost, but the wounds are healing and with help he's found a path forward. He has reasons to keep living even if life itself is not something he can value for its own sake. His disability, as terrible as it is, doesn't doom him to misery.

And all of this is really inspiring for me, someone who struggles to meet my physical needs and who struggles to want things and who isn't sure how to build a life worth living given my own depression and executive dysfunction.

[prettyboykatsuki]

they really nailed it with caleb's design he's literally just Some Guy. like a very handsome Guy for sure, but that's just Some Guy and then he takes his shirt off and he's ripped as hell and has the most debilitating siscon you've ever seen in your life and now he's crazy attractive but in a way that makes it exceptionally clear that he's still easily perceived as Some Guy. hot boy next door dreams of fucking his sister kind of nonsense

its literally the sexiest part about him to me. sorry. like i get some people think he's ugly but the fact that caleb looks like some insanely handsome dude i'd see in my Intro to Physics lecture makes me want to jump his bones. it is my favorite aspect about him. i Know that man. i see him around campus in the library and someone is always stopping him to say hi and i WANT him.

hot boy next door of your dreams and virtually perfect. but he wants to screw his little sister exclusively. dream man

[autball]

Part 4 of a 5 part series about the ways harmful practices can be made to sound appealing and how to spot the differences between helpful and harmful approaches.

Sensory sensitivities are a huge part of being autistic (and sometimes ADHD, too). They can range from kind of annoying but manageable to debilitating and meltdown-inducing. They can fluctuate from day to day and situation to situation. They can seem to pop up one day out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly.

Sensory differences are dynamic, which can make them unpredictable and disruptive. Not many people want to live that way, so working on sensory desensitization with someone who has a lot of sensitivities sounds like a thing that could help. Fewer meltdowns and able to do more things? Yes please!

But as you might have guessed, there’s a giant problem with that: reducing sensitivity isn’t really a thing you can do TO someone. At least, not without inducing a trauma response or two. You can certainly get someone to learn to ignore their own body signals or pretend to be fine when they’re not, but that’s not a sensory thing. That’s a dissociation thing.

“Sensory desensitization” is usually code for exposure therapy. Exposure therapy has its uses, but addressing legitimate sensory issues isn’t one of them. And it should only be done WITH someone who can fully consent and actively participate. Coercing and/or forcing someone to interact with distressing sensory input until they stop reacting is not that.

“Sensory desensitization” also operates under the assumption that people just get used to, or habituate to, the noises and sensations around them, even ones that bother them. But studies have shown that autistic people actually don’t habituate to sensory stimuli the way non-autistic people do. It may take way longer to happen, or it may never happen at all.

You know what can and does happen? Sensory sensitivities can just kinda…change. All on their own. We grow up, our hormones change, our stress levels change, our environments change, and our sensory profiles are affected by all of those things (and more!). Sensitivities can just disappear, naturally, without any intervention. And that’s about the only thing I’d ever refer to as real sensory desensitization.

But sensory sensitivities can go any which way. Maybe new ones rear their ugly heads. Or maybe something bothers us at a level 7 one day and 2 the next, then goes all the way up to 11 next week. And then there are the ones that just stay pretty much the same, all the time, forever.

I could not handle pants for a long time as a kid, but then somewhere along the way, I could. I really couldn’t tell you when it happened. There are some foods that used to make me gag that no longer do, and there are some that I still just cannot handle. I have never been okay with things that stick to my hands, and that really hasn't changed since as far back as I can remember. 

You know what all these sensory sensitivities have in common? Someone made me “tolerate” them at some point, often repeatedly. And none of them changed (or didn’t) because of repeated exposure, but because of my natural development. All I got from forced exposure was this lousy tendency to disconnect from myself.

Sensory desensitization is just not a thing we should be trying to do to people. Sensory *integration* is a real thing that can help people, but that is a whole different animal that requires more than just exposing people to stuff that bothers them. You’ll need an OT (Occupational Therapist) with the specialized training for that. Just make sure they’re not sneaking behaviorism tactics or exposure therapy in there either (yep, the words “sensory integration” can be used to misrepresent what they’re doing, too).

It is a far better thing to help someone learn about their own sensory profile and how to manage their sensory needs than to make them ignore their own body signals. Alexithymia is not #goals.

[inotakumagf]

the beast at the heart of the world

✶ gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.7K

summary ✺ you’ve had a shadow following you since you were a kid. one day, it tries to hurt you.

warning ✺ kind of creepy descriptions of a cursed spirit, but it’s not super gory or anything like that. also i never usually enjoy instant love, but reader and gojo are very touch-starved, so it kinda goes from 0 to 100 real fast oops. reblogs & comments r very appreciated <3

You started seeing the creature when you were seven years old.

He’s never spoken to you, but he’s always watching. At least, you think it’s a he. The creature has pale, rubbery skin with pointed ears and a towering figure. The way he stares at you reminds you of how your father does, and the comparison causes panic to burst against your seams. 

The first time you notice him, you’re playing with your dolls in your bedroom. You focus on the story you’re telling with your Barbies, trying to ignore the way your parents scream at each other in the kitchen. You have this suffocating desire to make them stop, even if that means hurting them. You don’t want to—you know you’d never—but you can’t shake the overwhelming anger brewing inside of you. 

When you finally look up, your heart drops at the sight of sharp, glistening teeth peeking out from your closet. The only thing visible in the shadows is the curling grin of a beast, and it feels like a twisted promise to rip you apart. You notice its red, beady eyes next, and you whimper when you realize it’s looking right at you. The creature’s grin widens.

You scream for your mother to save you, hands clamping over your eyes as you sob. At least your parents’ argument stops as your mother comes to see what’s wrong. When you point out the creature to your mother and explain the situation, she throws open your closet door, to your absolute horror. But her smile doesn’t change as she steps to the side and motions to the closet, the monster still staring at you with its full attention. You cry when you realize she can’t see the creature. Its gaze burns into you as she reassures you that there’s nothing to worry about, even as the creature drools over her shoulder. 

You learn two things that day: one, no one else besides you can see this creature. And two, it follows you. Everywhere. 

You don’t know why, but he never, ever takes his eyes off of you. And he never stops smiling. You have to ignore him every second of your life after that, pretending that he doesn’t tower over you and terrify you beyond comprehension. No matter how many years it’s been since you first saw him, your heart and body freeze every time you look over your shoulder and see the imposing figure of your monster. Truly, it could be worse. He’s never touched you before, he’s never put you or anyone else in physical danger. He just stands a short distance behind you, and he stares. But the anticipation is so overwhelming that it may kill you before he does. You often cry yourself to sleep, hoping that he will just go away. Why can’t he go away?

Sometimes, he stands so close that you think he’ll swallow you whole. You know he thinks of it, because his large mouth is wide open as he peers down at you, letting his saliva drip over you. After all these years, it’s still nearly impossible not to sob in fear or flinch away from him, especially when you’re in public. It's so debilitating, and it turns something as simple as ordering coffee at a cafe into a dreadful process. 

Like now, you try to order your drink, stumbling over your words as you do your best to ignore the creature standing beside you. Your voice cracks and you freeze as the monster drops its head onto your shoulder. You can feel its clammy skin against yours, and there’s a slight scratch as brittle hair brushes against you. A sob bubbles in your chest as the creature licks a trail up your face with its long tongue.

“I–can I…?” You can’t finish your sentence, too busy trying not to scrunch your eyes closed at the feeling of his slimy, purple tongue dragging all over you. He’s never touched you before, and you don’t know why he has now. Maybe his insatiable hunger has gotten the best of him. 

You make a strange noise in the back of your throat. The barista in front of you rolls his eyes at the state of you. You can’t really blame him, because you know how you must look.

“Are you gonna order?” He asks impatiently.

You clench your fists and try to at least breathe in and out. “I–”

The bell to the front door jingles as someone pushes the door open quickly. You and the barista turn to the man that has entered the cafe. He has snow white hair and a dark pair of glasses that he pushes up the bridge of his nose. You can see how his chest rises and falls quickly, as if he’d just run a marathon. He swipes his gaze across the room before meeting your eyes. Your eyes widen when he locks his eyes with yours. 

“Are you ordering or not?” The barista’s annoyed voice brings you back to reality.

An apology is on the tip of your tongue, but the man who’d just stepped inside comes over with a grin on his face. 

“Sweetheart! Sorry to make you wait, I couldn’t find my card.” He stands besides you, laying a careful hand on your shoulder. He pouts at the barista. “I didn’t mean to make you guys wait, we’ll order now. What was it that you said you wanted to try, honey?”

You startle when you realize he’s talking to you. You stumble through your order. The mystery man orders after you do, handing the barista his card to pay and making small talk. Your drinks are made fast, and you can’t blame the barista for wanting to be rid of you as soon as possible.

You don’t know what you’re expecting, but it’s not the stranger keeping an arm over your shoulder as you leave. He doesn’t let go after you walk out of the shop, or even when you’ve traveled a block away. Your heart stutters in fear as you try to think of a way to escape his grip. 

But then he whispers into your ear, “Do you want me to handle this thing for you? It’s awfully close, don’t you agree?”

It takes you too long to realize he’s talking about your monster. Your monster that no one should be able to see. “You can see it too? I thought I was crazy.”

He grins. “You still might be, that’s not for me to decide. This special grade curse looks like it’s been brewing for a while. You poor thing, you can’t get rid of it, can you?”

You blink. “What? Special grade what?”

He ignores you, rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in comfort. “How long has it been bothering you?”

“Since I was seven.”

For the first time, he looks surprised. “That long, huh? Let me take care of it, sweet pea. You won’t have to suffer much longer.”

You feel a rush of wind at your side and the stranger’s warmth disappears. It feels like you blink, and the creature turns to dust. Just like that, almost twenty years’ worth of suffocation is gone. The constant, overwhelming pressure against your skin is gone. The man appears at your side once more. 

It’s such a relief, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly you deflate against this man. He holds you to his side gently, running his hand against your back as you sob into his neck. You should have more shame, but you can’t bring yourself to care at all. 

You mutter your gratitude into his skin, and you can feel him shudder against your lips.

He lets out a shaky breath before grinning at you. “How ‘bout I walk you home? So I can make sure none of these curses bother you anymore, sweetheart.”

You’re flustered, stumbling over your reply before giving him a, “O-okay. Thank you.”

He lets out something between a sigh and a laugh. “Of course, honey.”

You can’t handle it. This man is a stranger, but he’s so…friendly. Thanks to your monster—your curse—you’ve never allowed yourself to be close to anyone in fear that the creature would snap and have its way. And though it’s hard to break away from your habit of fear, this man’s presence calms your fast-paced heart. He makes you feel safe. 

Once you’ve arrived at your apartment, you feel disappointment brew in your chest. “This is my place,” you mumble. “Thank you for helping me. For the first time in my life I feel…light.”

He smiles at you. “Can I give you my number? In case a curse like this ever bothers you again. All you have to do is call and I’ll be there for you.”

You agree easily, because you want to see him again, even if it’s in a less than ideal circumstance. You pass your phone to him, peering over his shoulder as he types his name into your phone. He pauses his typing to smile over at you, and it makes you flustered enough to turn away.

He laughs. “Aw, sorry, sugarplum. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Could I get a name to match that pretty face of yours?”

You tell him your name, only considering a moment later that you probably shouldn’t give your name out to a stranger so easily. But you feel comfortable around him, and you find yourself trusting—you glance down at the contact name he’d set for himself—Satoru. You trust Satoru.

You turn to go inside your apartment building, but Satoru calls your name and you turn back, a look of concern flickering over your face.

He rubs his hand against the back of his neck. He looks almost…shy? “You can use my number, uh, even if there’s no curse. Do whatever you want with it, actually. I’m always available to talk. If you have questions about all of this, of course.”

The furrow in your brow eases and you smile and thank him again. You wave your phone in the air briefly. “I’m sure I’ll find something useful to do with this.”

And before you head back inside your apartment, you glance behind you almost instinctively. But there’s no more monster to worry about. The only thing behind you is your strange savior. You promise yourself that you’ll take him up on his offer, as many times as he’ll have you.

[bloodblanks]

one umbrella cover two [mr. scarletella x reader] — chapter xvi.

As past memories and events resurface, your relationship with Mr. Scarletella takes a turn.

note: reader is not player (mc).

author’s note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain dark and explicit content, including heavy dub-con, stockholm syndrome, violence, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

You.

Of course it was you. That three letter word, muddied and distorted across multiple languages, multiple worlds, but still ultimately coming to a staggeringly discernible culmination—you.

All of a sudden, the weight of his body became much too heavy, too unbearable to support any longer, his knees buckling under the pressure and then he was tumbling over. Sinking, crashing down to the floor, his bones colliding against the frigid floor as he trembled, quivering hands hovering around his own head.

You.

And of course it was you, because how could he forget? Not even the passage of years and change of appearance can warp you, you who were so ethereal and divine as you had always, always been. You, who were staring down at him with worry, with such warm concern that it made the coldness of his own heart stab through itself with sharp, glacial spikes. You, whose eyes were brimming with something that caused anguish to corrode his very bones, acrimony seeping into his bloodstream.

Me.

But the passage of time had warped him, distorted and deformed him into something utterly unrecognizable, utterly deplorable, utterly monstrous.

So when the words, “Are you okay?” left your lips, he could only gaze up at you with petrified eyes, unable to answer. However, even had it not been for the rotten, gnawing guilt welling up in his chest preventing him from speaking out, the crackling static that sizzled through his mind like a steak on a hot pan would debilitate him, nonetheless.

“You okay?”

That’s what you first asked him, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be sure. The memories were fuzzy—the static causing them to disintegrate and reintegrate all at the same time—but he could clearly remember you mouthing those words, even though he didn’t understand the language at the time. Back when it was just you and him in the elevator, the very first time, the—

God, he couldn’t remember, couldn’t recall clearly just what exactly had transpired, could only recall the way your lips moved as you gazed down at his awestruck, too stunned to respond, form. Lips so smooth, even with their buttery charcoal tint, they looked more enchanting than any worldly sight he’s ever seen. Lips—

Mouth.

“Want mouth touch?” he had asked you, the two of you entangled in one another’s arms, your bodies huddled together on the underground level of the apartment, where the two of you had stepped out together after the elevator reached its final stop.

Much time had passed since then, each ticking moment consumed after the other by the endless void that stretched out beyond this dimly lit chamber. Moments spent on clumsy interactions and the gradual learning of each other’s language. Moments occurring much like a sweet afternoon’s reverie, whisked away only by the next day that came, in a place of eternal nighttime.

His wounds, while cumbersome, had done the opposite of what he expected them to. Instead of festering and becoming worse, they had instead started to mend themselves, the lacerated skin starting to match yours in a shade of windswept grey.

When your fingers skimmed over his wrist, brushing against the injury site, he realized that he barely felt any pain. All that he experienced was a tingling numbness and a mild discomforting ache.

“Mouth touch?” you inquired, not seeming to understand what a kiss was. He had expected as much—you demonstrated little knowledge of the world beyond this abyss.

But he didn’t need you to know anything about his world. His world was a place of eternal downpour, grey and cold. He didn’t care for it. All he needed you to know was him. Him, and his utter devotion for you. He knew now that the reason behind his fascination for the otherworldly void he now found himself in was merely a string of the instrument of your fated connection.

He was certain of it.

“Like this,” he murmured, leaning in slowly to capture your lips with his. You remained still, not flinching or tensing, which he took as a sign to continue. His mouth moved delicately against your own, the warmth of his breath and the coolness of your lips meeting in juxtaposition.

“Like this,” you repeated, chasing his lips with your own after he pulled away. He could feel his chest tighten, ribcage clamping down on his much too swollen heart as you clumsily imitated his motions.

Oh, how precious you were. How utterly captivating and flawless. How—

You.

Staring at him with visibly fraught eyes, you were bending down, your hands on his shoulders. He snapped out of his stupor for a brief moment just to be forcefully thrown back into it as soon as he tried to understand just what had occurred.

He could remember it clearly now, remember your hauntingly beautiful self, your first meeting at the crux of the other world. He could recall the first exchanges of language and emotion, the utter affection that bloomed in his chest as you kissed.

But here you were, standing in front of him, no longer otherworldly, but still completely mesmerizing. You had changed. From the supernatural entity he knew you as in his former life, to your now slowly transforming, yet still so human self.

He didn’t know how it had happened, just that at some point, you had become a mortal. That knowledge alone was enough to cripple him, further destabilizing his already trembling body.

Me.

So, this was what he had done.

He couldn’t stop the memories, not anymore. From your meeting in the apartment complex, when he took you away to his forsaken world, to his ensuing interactions with you, his pitiful attempts at intimacy—

He chuckled; a hollow, bitter laugh leaving his lips. He could feel despair burrowing deep within his bones as the weight of his actions sank into him further and further, the heaviness too difficult to carry.

You were still looking at him with those eyes, confused and concerned and much, much too sympathetic for your own good. He wanted to gouge his own out, if not to avoid witnessing the care in yours, then to remove his sight entirely as it would only be a fitting punishment for the crimes he’d committed.

Cannot be together.

He couldn’t keep you here. Not anymore. Not like this.

Mustering up every ounce of determination in himself, he uttered a single word, as firmly as he could.

“Leave.”

“W-What?” You tripped over your own words as you spoke, evidently caught off guard by his sudden command. “What do you mean?”

“Go to the elevator,” he stated, in a flawless conjuration consisting entirely of your language. “That’s the exit.”

—

Long.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since it left. But it had disappeared somewhere in the vast darkness of this place, and you were left with a gradually increasing longing for whatever it was.

Need consume.

The desire you felt soon became an unbearable, gnawing ache that only continued to increase. You knew little and recognized even less, but hunger did not need to be identified, only felt.

Not here.

It was a miserable feeling. The emptiness of your stomach caved in further and further, your body seemingly ready to fold in over itself. Despite your relentless roaming, the abyss stayed static. The place was devoid of anything to be seen, heard, or felt.

Troubled.

It was a vague, cryptic emotion, but somewhere in your mind, you could recognize that you were uneasy. The pain in your abdomen was growing stronger, to the point where it was the primary sensation that occupied your mind. You wanted to feel. Wanted to hear. Wanted to see.

Not want.

Perhaps you should be happy about being able to feel something different. But despite its separation from the otherwise monotony of your existence, you found yourself unable to enjoy it.

Need rest.

Walking had become fatiguing. You were starting to feel lethargic, each step taken more exhausting than the last. Your desire to rest was battling with your starvation, leaving you conflicted as to which you should pursue.

Light.

Just when your eyelids were beginning to weigh down, any wishes to combat your weariness having dissipated, you noticed the perpetual darkness that shrouded you begin to thin.

Awake.

Your eyes snapped back open. You weren’t sure what you were seeing, but you noticed something that contrasted against the pitch black you were accustomed to.

A small burst of energy flickered in your chest, permitting you to keep moving forwards. The more you walked, the brighter it became. You noticed that your eyes were stinging; the luminescence was a jarring sight for your eyes that had known nothing but the dark to behold.

Wall appear.

You couldn’t help but pause, taking in the strange sight. The grey walls were already a startling and spectacular sight, but the green hued doors had entirely captured your attention. You stared ahead, awestruck by the myriad of things that you could see.

Sound.

You hadn’t noticed the creature there, not until it let out that high-pitched sound distinctly engraved in your memories. It started to move towards the green doors, frantically slamming a small square on their right.

Cannot leave.

Instantly, you realized it was trying to leave you, much like the previous one had. You couldn’t let that happen. You wanted to keep seeing it, keep hearing it, wanted to feel it in your grasp.

You dashed forwards, lunging at it, hands grabbing for the creature. It made more noises, this time louder. How delightful it was, your ears finally registering sound after such a long period of utter nothingness.

Possible consume?

The thought crossed your mind as you held onto the creature, which was moving forcibly against your grasp. It was desperately flailing, and you realized then that this creature was frail.

Weak.

You didn’t know what this creature was; had never seen anything like it before. Somehow, amidst its piercing cries, you were able to realize that it was edible.

It was strange how you knew what to do without even thinking twice. You reached for its neck, gripping it tightly before harshly jerking it to the side. A cracking sound—oh, so pleasant—echoed across the empty space.

Consume.

You dragged the creature, now inanimate, away from the light. Bringing it into the shadows where you could safely ingest it, you proceeded to sink your teeth into its mangled neck.

Pleasant.

It tasted good, rivers of blood flowing into your mouth, quenching the thirst you just realized you had been feeling. You continued ripping away at its flesh, tearing its body all the way down to their bones.

A lot blood.

The space you were in was dim, but bestowed with just enough illumination for you to see the crimson liquid splattered over its form. There was blood everywhere, splashed over both you and the creature you were ingesting, soaking you both in a vibrant, exquisite scarlet.

Pretty.

Never before had you seen such a striking, bold colour. A hue so rich, so enchanting that you were unable to tear your eyes away. It seemed that coveting was a never-ending ache, one that fuelled every fiber of your being as your mind screamed for more.

You ate away, consuming the body over an unknown period of time until all that remained was a heap of bones. When you were done, you were satiated. You lacked the need to continue eating, but the longing to see more of that brilliant, brilliant red had flared into an unquenchable thirst.

Seek.

After a brief rest, you returned to the room you initially found the creature in, the one with greys and greens that all paled in comparison to the magnificence of red. This time, there were no other creatures.

You walked over to the doors, giving them a push. They didn’t open. Puzzled, you tried again, reaching the same result. You wondered if doors were not what you thought they were. Your entire existence had been submerged in darkness and you had no confidence as to whether the strange concepts appearing in your head were present or not.

Door device.

You noticed then, the small square that the creature had been touching. You mimicked your recollection of his actions, fingers pressing on the same square. It wasn’t soft, but it squished underneath your digits in a most bewildering way.

To your surprise, mere moments later, the doors opened with a soft rumble.

—

When you reopened your eyes, the intruding images were gone. Before you once again was Mr. Scarletella, staring up at you from the floor he had sunken down upon, with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

You tried to process the visualization that just appeared in your mind, attempted to understand it, but a memory pierced through your skull at the same time, taking precedence.

“Go to the elevator. That’s the exit.”

Right. That was what he had said, seconds ago, before static had tarnished your vision, distorting your sight. You realized then that the elevator your mind conjured was likely correlated to the one he had mentioned.

It was perturbing knowledge, and you couldn’t help but feel dread seep into your viscera. There was something wrong with that information, but you were lost as to what exactly was amiss about it. Nonetheless, your gut was screeching to you; claims that you shouldn’t know such things.

Perhaps it was right. But what did it matter when your long awaited freedom was just ahead of you?

As bizarre as it was, you didn’t feel any joy, excitement, or relief. You didn’t feel any of the emotions that were appropriate for this situation, but rather a disenchanted, grim acknowledgement.

A single word left your lips.

“Why?”

Mr. Scarletella merely gazed at you. Despite the humanity he had regained, his eyes were bleaker, duller than ever.

“Leave.” His tone was stern; his voice was colder and more forceful than you had ever heard him speak before. It was evident there was no room for argument. He had made up his mind.

Your mouth opened slightly, lips parting as you were about to repeat your question, but the resolute yet desolate look in his eyes caused you to pause. Your mouth moved a few more times, vocal cords on the verge of emitting sound, but nothing came out.

You frowned, lips pressing into a thin line as you forced your acceptance. It’s better to just take this and leave, you told yourself. You have no reason to stay.

Ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest, the organ trapped within your ribcage in dissonance with your brain, you swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. Something was lodged in your throat. You tried to pay it no mind.

Mechanically, you nodded your head. This was what you wanted, right?

Turn around, you instructed yourself. Let’s go.

You lingered for a second longer, before finally turning around, your chest filled with a foreign weight. As you trudged away, you couldn’t help but feel like a marionette with broken strings, your movements unnaturally stiff.

You had only made it a few steps across the corridor when you heard your name being called. You turned around, a harrowing spark of hope lighting up in a place you tried your best to shut out.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice straining. You could only look at him, disquieting anticipation causing your heart to race as you wondered what he’d say. “A lot adore. How say?”

You wanted to strangle the strange scintilla of an emotion that flickered in your chest. Wanted to stomp on it, snuff it out until nothing remained.

Instead, you simply responded to his question.

“Love.”

A minute passed. And then another. A short eternity stretched out, time coming to a halt as the two of you met each other’s eyes. All you could hear was the rushing of blood, your pulse fervently pounding in your ears.

You were brought back to the present, time ceasing to pause as Mr. Scarletella’s gaze left yours. His eyes were cast downwards when he uttered a single, concluding sentence, the syllables piercing through your sternum with biting frost.

“I see.”

next chapter ->

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

thank you everyone for reading and supporting my work! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[youremyheaven]

Outcaste Nakshatras: The Outsiders (part 3)

Here's part 1 and part 2

The more I study Mleccha nakshatra natives and the art they make, the more I understand how deeply lonely it is to have a Mleccha nak (Bharani, Ashlesha, Vishaka, Shravana) and I really feel for them. To live your whole life feeling misunderstood and othered is so difficult.

The movie Edward Scissorhands is a really good example of the "outcast" trope. The titular character is played by Johnny Depp who has Ashlesha Rising and his love interest is played by Winona Ryder who has Mercury (amatyakaraka) & Venus (atmakaraka) in Vishaka

I find Outcaste nak pairing very interesting because obviously you only feel like you belong/truly feel accepted in the presence of another Outcast.

Sidharth Malhotra, Vishaka Moon is married to Kiara Advani, who has Mercury & Venus (atmakaraka) in Ashlesha (if you have 2 or more planets in the same nak that energy is very concentrated even if its not your big 3)

they're both known for being pretty low-key people which is unusual in Bollywood lmao

Sid is an "outsider" which is what we call non-nepo actors in India. imagine the extent of nepotism in cinema in India that its the exception to be an "outsider"lmao. anyway Sid is pretty reserved and introverted and is known for not fitting in with the Bollywood crowd. Kiara is also kinda like that I guess but idk too much about her personality. They both seem happy together tho

Kareena Kapoor, Shravana Moon is married to Saif Ali Khan, Ashlesha Sun & Shravana Moon

Kareena's parents are famous actors who are separated (her dad was misogynistic and abusive and didn't want women to act) and even tho she's a nepo baby she didn't grow up with the same privileges as others in her famous family. Her elder sister had to drop out of school to support the family by acting as they were raised by a single mom and had fallen on bad times. You can see how the "outcast" themes were present in Kareena's life even though she's a very privileged nepo baby

Saif is also a nepo baby (welcome to bollywood lol) but he married a much older actress when he was 21 and had two kids. they later got divorced and Saif received a ton of bad press for alleged adultery, not getting custody or visitation rights of the kids, not paying child support (the amount was absurdly high tbh) etc he didn't fit in with the other actors of his generation. The media & public went crazy when news of Saif & Kareena getting married came out bc Saif is a divorcee with 2 kids (this stuff is still taboo in India unfortunately) and Kareena is one of the most successful stars of her generation. But they've been married for 10+ yrs and have 2 kids and are as happy as ever.

Even Kareena's longterm ex-boyfriend, Shahid Kapoor was a Mleccha caste nak guy (he has Vishaka Moon)

Expanding on the outcast tropes, Shahid's parents separated when he was young and he saw little of his biological father. He had to work very hard for very long to break into the industry and even now, he's not really given his due as an actor.

Alia Bhatt, Shravana Rising is married to Ranbir Kapoor, Shravana Moon

their marriage seems hella toxic to me ngl BUT they've both had similar childhoods.

Alia & Ranbir are both nepo babies (welcome to bollywood), Alia is like a tier 3 nepo (her father is a notoriously controversial filmmaker) whilst Ranbir is like a tier 1 nepo (he is a 4th generation actor from the biggest film family in India) however both their parents had unhappy marriages, and both of them had abusive fathers. trauma bonding, mayhaps? they're both also extremely close to their mothers as well (Moon dominant people often tend to be)

Its another example of Outcaste naks bonding over their shared experiences/feelings of being the outcast.

all members of Blackpink have an Outcaste nakshatra in their chart that is prominent in some way.

Jisoo- Shravana Moon, Venus in Vishaka (darakaraka), Ketu in Bharani

Rose- Venus conjunct Jupiter (debilitated) in Shravana

Jennie- Vishaka Moon, Mars in Shravana

Lisa- Jupiter in Shravana (debilitated), Swati Moon (Swati is a Shudra nak, which is the lowest caste so the themes are similar to that of outcaste naks)

This is interesting to me because BP is the biggest girl group of all time yet they are also probably disproportionately hated for things they cant even control. they were mismanaged by a shitty ass company with very few comebacks and barely got to display their true calibre as artists and their media interactions, promos, other activities etc were severely controlled and restricted. all of this is to say that despite being the most successful group their actual experiences are far from sunshine and roses. they were treated like outcasts by their company and the industry and fans. they trained for 4-6 years, enduring a brutal and toxic system, worked very hard with what they were given, with 0 creative liberty to come this far im glad theyre pursuing solo careers now and hope to see them thrive<333

the movie Lost in Translation is a good example of two outcasts/lonely people who find comfort in each other

Bill Murray is Shravana Moon and Scarlett Johansson is Vishaka Moon

Sridevi, Ashlesha Sun & Rising and Boney Kapoor, Vishaka Sun & Mercury

So they had a really fcked up marriage that I won't get into but they were both people who felt like outcasts in their lives. Sridevi grew up with a stepfather and was pushed into acting by her mother when she was 3-4 years old (she's like an Indian Judy Garland tbh) who deprived her of formal education and a normal life so that she'd be the family cash cow. Being South Indian, she also found it hard to fit in among Bollywood folks as she initially spoke neither Hindi nor English. Boney's the ugly duckling of his family and his younger brother is one of the most famous/iconic actors ever, he had to become a movie producer since his brothers became actors and his father (who was a movie producer) thought it would be better if he stayed behind the scenes. themes of exclusion and outcast-ness crop up in their lives and in the lives of all the people I mention here.

Lady Bird is a good example of a movie about a female teenage outcast. The titular character is played by Saoirse Ronan, who has Bharani Moon

Recently I came across the content creator, Alana Lintao who often makes shorts about social behaviour. This one in particular stood out to me because its literally about one person being excluded by a group of friends or being treated like "the other".

Alana plays the excluded friend in this short as well. She has Bharani Sun, Swati Moon and Mercury in Revati amatyakaraka (Swati & Revati are both Shudra naks)

Outcaste naks are vilified and crucified for mistakes others get away with.

Janet Jackson, Vishaka Rising & Ketu

Janet's career took a hit and her life took a tumultuous turn after the Superbowl incident. She did not deserve all the vitriol she received then especially considering how so many others get away with wayyy worse

Jennie, Vishaka Moon gets hated on for absolutely nothing

Lana Del Rey, Ashlesha Moon, Vishaka Rising (&stellium)

Lana does say dumb things from time to time but she gets soooo much unnecessary hate

I have noticed how Outcaste nakshatras often tend to have really difficult childhood experiences

Jeanette McCurdy- Ardra sun, Bharani Moon & Pushya Rising

Jeanette opens up about her abusive mother and terrible childhood in her memoir. I mention her other placements as well because I've noticed that both Ardra & Pushya natives also experience abuse in their early lives

Britney Spears, Shravana Moon

she has endured so much abuse from so many people including her family. i wish her peace.

Wheein, Vishaka Moon grew up with a single mother and later after she made her debut her estranged father tried to borrow money from people under her name?? there was a minor scandal about it many years ago. She also grew up quite lower middle class if not poor.

David Bowie, Shravana Rising

Bowie once said, "“It wasn’t a particularly happy childhood, my parents were cold emotionally. There weren’t many hugs. I always craved affection because of that.”

Cole & Dylan Sprouse, Ashlesha Sun

Speaking on the Call Her Daddy podcast, he explained that their mother's issues with mental health and addiction contributed to her being "financially the most irresponsible woman ever." He said that when their dad was given forced custody when the boys were 10, their mom had already spent everything they'd earned from their early acting jobs. Though their dad wanted them to be "normal kids," he ultimately decided that the boys' acting careers were a financial necessity.

Ariel Winter, Shravana Sun

Ariel Winter has spoken out about how acting wasn't her choice, but it was her mother's. Ariel shared that her mother, Crystal Workman, had dreams of being an actor herself. Ariel said that with Crystal as her stage mom, she dealt with a lot of abuse and exploitation.

Once Ariel's acting career began, she said her mom put her on a strict diet and neglected her education. Her mother also had her dress in outfits that sexualized her. Ariel claimed her mom put her in “the smallest miniskirts, sailor suits, low-cut things, the shortest dresses you’ve ever seen. People thought I was 24 when I was 12. If there was going to be a nude scene when I was that age, my mother would have a thousand percent said yes.”

Now Bollywood is an industry run by film dynasties, its very rare for someone from the outside to break in and make it big. Being an "Outsider" is very difficult, people bully you, try to sabotage your career, try to isolate you etc etc, needless to say its not for the faint of heart. So lets take a look at some of the most successful "Outsiders" in Bollywood who made it big without any family in the business

ofc we have to start with the most successful outsider of all time, Shahrukh Khan, Shravana Moon

he truly came from nothing (father died when he was a teenager, mother died before he made his debut, has a sister with special needs who he has taken care of his entire life) and became the biggest star in the world.

Akshay Kumar, Vishaka Moon, he was a martial artist, chef, waiter and worked numerous odd jobs before he started modelling in his late 20s and later started acting and today he has a net worth of $340 million

Anushka Sharma, Bharani Sun

her life is truly a case of being lucky af, she was a model and by the age of 19-20 she was cast in a film opposite Shahrukh Khan aka the biggest actor in the country produced by YRF, one of the biggest film production companies in India. its truly a fairy tale because neither can Anushka act nor is she gifted in any other way (bad dancer, heck she was even an awful model) but she's incredibly successful in every way and is now married to the (former) Captain of the Indian cricket team

Deepika Padukone, Shravana Rising

she is from a privileged background (her dad's a renowned badminton player) but she worked very very hard to get where she is today and has had more career longevity than just about any other actress.

Bipasha Basu & John Abraham, Bharani Moon

they were both a hot couple who were really popular in the 2000s

there are many other successful Outsiders but they don't have outcaste naks lol, these are the only ones i can think of rn :/

i hope this post was informative<33

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin as husband is next I'm curious for his and hyunjinss

This is the longest fucking reading I've ever had so i just HAD to split it in 2 parts so bear with me. I love him but i hate him right now😩 (no i don't)

Husband Series: Changbin pt. 1

Ugh...that guy🫠 i bet you if i let him use up my whole deck he would. The amount of "ok last card" i had to say...and yet there was still so much gushing put...and ugh, i just can't stress enough how much into details he is and how much he wants to stress on them and make sure they don't go unnoticed or get misunderstood or overlooked. Reminds me so much of my audhd friend😭. Anyways back on track - tho i don't even know where to begin from, i really think he used up half my deck. I just counted 23 cards😳 i do indeed draw a lot for the others too but thats just next level. Not on topic but i think he's a really chatty drunk😂 now i wanna read on them when drunk🙌🏻😂

Ok soooo since i have so many cards ill try to combine them as much as i can and keep the messages as concise as possible so this post doesn't become a novel - the overall energy i noticed here is not so much emphasis on him as a husband but overall him as a partner in a committed relationship. Which leads me to believe he himself doesn't view marriage with such dread as the others did (there wasn't really any dread with felix bust still a certain anxiety around responsibilities, meanwhile that with changbin is absolutely nonexistent). I would say he seems himself as capable and even ready to take on that responsibility and role if the opportunity presents itself and i think he believes he'll do a good job. He's responsible, capable and can take care of it. I actually sense a feeling of pride in him about that.

Another MAJOR theme is him being a "simp" for his partner (he insists on wife). There are many cards that im trying to sum up:

He's very protective over her and doesn't let anyone say shit about her, he's giving me guard dog vibes. Also a big bodyguardy. I can see him when being out with her eyeing people and being on alert and just idk, looking scary as to scare of any weirdos before they even think about trying something. And to clear any misunderstandings up, im really not getting this coming from jealousy (not that its not there, it is😂, but its just 10% reason, out of 100), but rather because he wants the woman he loves to feel safe and protected around him. He wants her to be able to relax and trust that he will always have her back and keep her safe. He wants her pretty little witty head not to be bothered by ANYTHING!

More from the simpy train - looks up to her a lot and kinda puts her a bit on a pedestal. This is not a very debilitating energy but feels rather like something he has made peace with and accepts - which is that she is indeed better than him and he can never be able to reach her, which means he is incredibly lucky and appreciative of the fact a woman like that has chosen him and he tries whatever he can to live up to her standard and continue to give her reasons to stay with him and continue to love him. Although she can never love him as much as he does (thats his thought🥲). But as i said this doesn't feel victimy to me at all but rather just seems realistic to him and he's a big boy and can accept reality for what it is and choose to feel lucky instead of beating himself up for not being good enough and self sabotage. Im actually really shocked looking at his energy because i can really feel the strength of his mind and ughh just how innovative and flexible he is. His will is just astounding and making me really happy, despite him obviously having some issues he doesn't let himself be defined by it and chooses to spin them to him favor. What an amazing guy💗

Back to the reading - so he spends a lot of time in his head, doing A LOT of 2 things. One is being thinking of his girl and what he can do to make her happy, analyzing previous conversations to see if he missed something or if he has remembered everything. Contemplating if she maybe gave him a hint about something, or if she maybe looked hesitant with something. Maybe her body language was off? He notes that. If there was any difference in her behaviour today, if she looked different. He's really putting LOTS of energy thinking about her and analyzing her and her behaviour. Again this doesn't seem to come from distrust (although he thinks of that as well, its just not his motivator, he just considers everything, thats why) but rather for his own feeling of safety. I think he is a very thoughtful and analyzing and sensitive person in nature so this may be something he always does, except when its something very important to him, and a relationship at that - he does it even more intensely. He doesn't only think about and analyze her tho. He does that to him too, to their relationship as well. He just wants to have a good understanding and overview of everything that is happening in the relationship so he has a sense of control and safety. You can always fix something if you know its broken. Or beginning to bend. You can fix the problem before the branch brakes i think is what he wants to say. And he wants things to run as smoothly as possible with them, and once again he has taken on the responsibility to make his girls life as easy and carefree as possible and how can that happen if he leaves the whole relationship in her hands?! He can't, so he doesn't his part very diligently and tries to keep up on the same level as her, emotional-intelligence-wise.

He also doesn't to just thinking but planing & organizing. So i think he takes lots of care for other stuff too like planing and booking fun dates. If he cant attend then books fun stuff for her. Provide her with the needed tools/means for her to be able to create, to indulge in her hobbies. He really loves that feminine creator energy and really wants to do his best to encourage and provide an encouraging environment for his wife to get in her feminine creator energy and bring him joy with it. Also thats really random but he's always ready and loves giving her massages😂💗(after her long day of crafting). He just loves hearing about it, seeing the excitement in her voice and face. It charges him.

He also spends lots of time fantasizing about her. Reminiscing wonderful dates, imagining potential future ones, creating scenarios etc. He's just A LOT in his head, his mind is really really active, and its very occupied with his love. Also another random message, commitment and love are tied with him somehow. Im seeing he cant commit if he doesn't love but he also cant love if he can't commit. So i would say he's very extreme-y. Like he's either all in or all out. No middle ground. What i mean is he HAS to be this intense in a relationship because for him thats commitment, THATS expressing love. And if he's not able to do that, then his love and interest and enthusiasm begin to fade away. He HAS to be able to be like that in a relationship and i think often he has been labeled (or was) just WAYYY TOO MUCH for the girls he has been in a relationship with. Im seeing he can get very overwhelming and overbearing if the person he's with just isn't the person to enjoy that kind of commitment and effort. But to go back to the cards, he also fantasizes about physical stuff too, for example he's riding in the car, and for the whole ride he's imagining and giggling and wiggling his feet and twirling his hairs because he plays over and over how that one time while they were still just dating she looked him in the eyes with that wet sexy look, and how his whole body got shivers and his stomach dropped and his heart skipped and his palms got sweaty and he swears some saliva started dripping out the corner of his mouth and his knees got weak and he almost felt like he was gonna black out and by the time he came back to his senses she was already sooo close to his lips and them BAM. Fireworks everywhere. He can never forget how that wonderful kiss felt and how sweet the sexual tension and anticipation before it was. He plays stuff like that OVER AND OVER again the whole damn day.

While being on physical stuff, he is pretty horny ill say. But not in a bunny way,m where he wants to fuck 5 times a day, but rather when around his girl he's always half way up, always ready to rise for the occasion iykwim. I think he gets *excited*👀 very easily and is just really weak when it comes to his girl. He's always ready to deliver whenever she ask, whatever she asks. Als im seeing once again he's a giver (and despite him loving head so much) he's focused on her pleasure and he can off just from watching her enjoy...whatever it is. So yeah thats that😂

Bro im so tired im thinking about doing this in 2 parts😭 im just halfway. Ok yk what im splitting it.

[just-a-carrot]

I'm not really in the mood to make a festive Happy New Year's post. So instead I'll just say... we made it. I made it. You made it. The year is over and we're still here. And that is enough.

It's no real secret by this point but 2024 has been one of the worst years of my life. From constant anxiety and panic attacks over job stability in the spring, to losing two family members, to the depressive spiral I entered after finishing OW, to the second spiral in the fall just when I thought maybe I was finally doing a bit better and everything came crashing back down, my mental health has been worse than it's ever been. And I've spent a lot more nights than I'd like to admit wishing I wouldn't wake up in the morning. (And downed a lot more sleeping pills than I'd like to admit because it's the only OTC thing I can get to mildly decrease my anxiety and help numb me a bit LOL)

I just want... this year to be over. Even though I have no hope for 2025 either and mostly just feel anxious and hopeless about it. But I will continue trying. Continuing grappling for the bits of joy that can keep me going. And maybe I finally will get a little bit of calm and peace. Who can say. I guess we'll see what 2025 decides to bring. I just really want to feel a bit better finally. And I hope that 2025 might take pity on me and allow me some mental respite.

2024 did have its moments of joy. Despite it sending me into the spiral, I am ofc glad that I finished OW finally this year. I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments. And I still can't believe that I put 3 whole years of work into this thing and just how much of my soul went into it. Even if my depression keeps trying to convince me that it (and me) are worthless.

I feel like I grew a lot in my art over the year. Trying new and more complex things. Getting better at composition and poses. Which led into my starting Broomtail, which gave me really the first renewed spark of creative joy since releasing the finale and actually made me excited to work on something again.

Speaking of joy amidst melancholy, DD2 was released this year, and it became the one thing that could keep me going at times. It brought me so much joy and inspiration when nothing else would. And it still holds my heart captive in its grip. From all the DD2 art I did, to the O2A2 game, to my silly tragic music video, to a very self-indulgent fanfic, it gave me so much creative energy, and I want to do more art for it in 2025 too! (And I'm still waiting for that DLC, Capcom...) I can't think of another game ever that's had this much of a hold on me before. Though I do attribute much of that to the fact that in my head it's mostly an OW AU since I could make Iggy and Genzou and play out their tragic love story and it was so beautiful and Genzou was so so sweet and cute GUH. Yeah... that helped a lot.

I think my main goal for 2025 is just to keep trying. To keep surviving. To keep trying to find hope and joy where I can. To believe that I can feel better and things can be better. Even when it's hard. And that hopefully... hopefully I will be able to find some peace in there finally.

I do have various projects I'd like to work on too. Like finishing the remaster, continuing Broomtail, maybe working on another game later on. But I'd rather just think of those as things I'd like to do for myself and because they bring me joy, rather than as any kind of goal or pressure. Especially since I never want to make any promises given the instability of my mental health.

I'm just so tired always. And I hate feeling scared and worthless all the time. I hate feeling trapped. Even if I know it's my own life choices and debilitating fear of change that has led to a lot of this. So it's my own fault in the end. But I hope I can find some solace. And I hope you can, too. I hope 2025 will be a kind year to everyone. And even if it's not, that we can find some joy and hope to help us through it.

Sorry this felt a bit morose LOL I guess I wanted to just take this opportunity to reflect back on the year a bit for some catharsis. I shall now sleep for 24 hours to recover from my flight hahaha.

if you saw this post a day ago for a few seconds i'm sorry -- i was working on it in my drafts and must have accidentally clicked post instead of save(??) somehow(???) idk but it posted and i panicked and deleted it and then had to rewrite it from scratch LOL

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Pyrite - Chapter 1: Gold Crown

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader.

Chapter Summary: During your first week as the Queen's handmaid, you overhear something you shouldn't have.

Warnings: Discussions of death, grief, abortion, and scheming. None of those happen to reader.

A/N: Alysanne Targaryen, you feminist icon. Mostly context.

As you walk towards the Queen's chambers, you fight a yawn. Despite the excitement you feel, you are still tired, unused to waking up as early as this.

So far, you have led the life of a girl. Playing around the gardens with the other children, running errands for your mother. But today, your life will change. You will go from girl to woman.

Today will be one of the most important days of your existence. The only other event that could surpass it will be the day you finally meet the lady you will serve.

It's a labor of love, your mother says. To serve faithfully next to a Queen is to be strong and loyal, but most of all, loving. You will get to know all her secrets, only you will see her bared body, and all its imperfections. You will learn to love this woman as if she were your little sister, for you will be the only one to know her as she is. Past the crown and the jewels, and down to the very mortal flesh that a Targaryen Queen has.

The Red Keep is where your family has served for generations. Your grandmother is full of tales about the cruelty of King Maegor, and his various wives. Your mother has served Queen Alysanne faithfully, ever since both of them were mere girls. You come from a lineage of handmaidens, born to serve the greatest Queens Westeros has ever seen.

In your family, being born a girl is a blessing. When a boy is born, the family weeps for the opportunity lost. Your mother had been the only girl out of her siblings, and now you, an only child, get to learn her trade.

One of your earliest memories comes with being taught to read and write. A handmaiden must know all the recipes for beauty, and create her own. Never for embellishing herself, but rather her lady. Every woman in your family keeps her own book, tailored to the lady she serves. As a child, you dreamed of the day you would be handed your own journal, and today is the day it will finally happen.

You will get to meet Queen Alysanne today. She is the most loved and kind Queen your family has served. Your mother has always spoken highly of her, telling tales of her beauty and grace.

Her story is the story all little girls dream of living. She had married for love, defying her family, and ended up being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She had it all, once. Riches, beauty and a loving family. But as of late, you know her life has not been the fairy tale it used to be.

One of her sons, Prince Aemon, passed away a few years ago. The loss of her daughter had made the Queen even sadder and morose, and now, her other son was rumored to be running himself ragged with the responsibilities that came with being Hand. He worked so much, his health was debilitating.

The Queen walked around the Red Keep as if in a stupor. Your mother said that she had left her changed. No longer, the Queen had a thirst for life, nor did she care much about anything. The only thing that had broken her out of her sadness had been the fact that her granddaughter, Rhaenys, had been declared unfit to be heir to the Iron Throne.

“If your Grace truly believes that women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me.” The Queen had said to the King, that time. Everyone found her words so surprising, but not you. Your mother had always said she was a champion for women, noble and commoners alike.

The succession issue was not only the royal's, but yours too. On it depended whom you would serve, which Queen you would tend to for the rest of your days.

Prince Aemon left only one heir. Princess Rhaenys, a beautiful woman who inherited her father's eyes. It should be her who should be Queen, your mother says. It's only right. But she has already been passed over already, the King declared Prince Baelor his heir. Now Prince Baelor is weakening, and the issue resurfaces again.

You think that Princess Rhaenys would make for an interesting lady. She is married already and she has a young son. She would be the first Queen in her own right in the history of Westeros and that would make you at least noteworthy to your family history.

The other option is Prince Viserys. Prince Viserys is said to be peaceful and not very gifted with the sword. That's alright, though. He has a brother to do that for him. Prince Viserys is married to a young girl, around your age. Princess Aemma. They are said to love each other very much, despite having married as children. To her, you could be an older sister, you think. She is said to be very kind and royal, despite being an Arryn by birth.

Both of them have their advantages. Prince Viserys would no doubt bring stability, but Princess Rhaenys would implement changes that would surely benefit women.

It would be exciting to be part of such changes. Your mother always remembers fondly her first days as Queen Alysanne’s handmaiden, when she had convinced her husband to abolish First Night. A terrible northern custom that hurt people like you.

It had made waves, your mother had said. The Lords had not wanted to abolish it. But Queen Alysanne had interfered and saved thousands of young girls just like you.

It's difficult to think of the weak old woman laying on her bed as that same fierce Queen. You are allowed in her rooms at sunrise, with your mother and your journal. You watch as she prepares the room to rise her lady, and you sit quietly with the Queen's jewels on your hands and neck. It's one of your new duties, to warm them for your lady.

She looks frail, sleeping between the covers. Aged. Your mother draws the curtains of the room open. In the morning light, antiques and silks shine like jewels. It's ostentatious, and it makes you sick. Only the gowns in this room could feed three or four families for a year.

“It won't be long before now.” Your mother whispers to you. She opens the door and picks up a tray. On it, sits a grapefruit cut in half, eggs, tea, and bread. Your stomach growls. It smells heavenly. Your mother places it on the vanity where you sit, warming your Queen's seat and jewels. It's the worst kind of torture. Your stomach hurts with hunger and you think of your breakfast, a cup of broth that was heavily diluted with water.

As predicted, the Queen slowly starts to stir. She moves, long silver braid whipping around. She has very thin hair, and you wonder how your mother makes up for it. Your journal is ready to note down any tricks she deems to share. You are supposed to note times and other useful things for when the time comes for you to have a lady of your own.

“Good morning, my Queen.” Your mother curtsies, and you hurry to do the same.

“You brought your daughter.” The Queen rasps, eyes still cloudy with sleep. “Come closer.”

Your mothers urges you forward. You obey, unable to believe such an esteemed lady would want to look at you.

“You are a pretty thing.” The Queen says, brushing your cheekbone with her thumb. You lower your eyes, not wanting to offend her by gawking at her. Queen Alyssane's hands are like nothing you've ever felt before, made of the softest velvet. She has never worked a day in her life and it shows. Your mother's hands and yours feel rough by comparison. “Are you married yet?”

“No, my Queen. I wish to settle into my duties first.” You answer, demurely.

“Your duties.” She smiles. “You are a good girl.” Then, to your mother. “I suppose it's not only Rhaenys’s future at stakes, isn't it?”

“It seems like it, my Queen.” Your mother exchanges a look with the Queen. You would never dare gaze upon her like that, but they share a bond after so many years together. Almost a friendship. Or the closest thing to one that a commoner can have with a noble.

“Well. Hopefully, things will speed up soon. I doubt I have many years left, and Jaehaerys…” The distress can be heard in her tone. It makes you feel sad, too. What must it be like to love someone your entire life, and then being parted from them? If you had been in love with someone since you were a child, you wouldn't know how to live without them. It was that fear what had kept the Queen abed. After losing so much, she was afraid to lose even more.

Even if you were not a noble lady, that was a motivation you could understand. Losing your family would devastate you. Fear of it happening again would paralyze you too.

“The King will live longer, your Grace. There is no need to worry.” You said, softly. You weren't too sure it was your place to say so, but your mother's encouraging nod seemed to approve.

“Isn't it? When he insists on her not being Queen. He would rather bypass her rights again instead of naming her Queen.” The Queen said, sharply. Suddenly, she was sitting up straighter on her bed, eyes blazing with fury

“I do not presume to know the King's…” You tried to appease her, but she only became angrier.

“Do you not think it's a sign? Baelor will soon be struck down. I know it. His son is not fit to be King. Rhaenys can rule as well as any man, and she has her husband's support. He rides a dragon too. She also has a strong heir. Why would be Viserys be better?”

“The Lords would…” Your mother interjected, trying to save you from her wrath.

“A cock. He has a cock, and the Lords do too. It is time I show them it doesn't mean what they all think it means.”

And suddenly, Queen Alyssane was alive once more. She got up from her bed and started barking orders to her maidens, you included.

Your mother rushed to clothe her, draping silks over her. The Queen threw them all away, reaching instead for a black dress.

“Get me a quill, girl.” She screamed. “And summon Ser Otto. We have much to talk about.”

So you did. Everyone knew Ser Otto. He was the younger brother of Lord Hightower, and one of the most trusted men in the council. Tall and haughty, he did not take kindly to being summoned in such a way. But once he had a private meeting with Queen Alysanne, his mood greatly improved.

Many more meetings began to take place in the Queen's chambers. Another man had been asked to come and see her. Corlys Velaryon. The Queen said, loudly, that it was about him retaking his position as Master of Ships, but you could tell that was not it.

There was nothing to back your suspicions, though. You were not privy to what happened inside the Queen's chambers, and you only knew so much because you had been tasked with reading outloud her pending tasks each morning.

It was only when Queen Alysanne sent you to pick up some meat pies from the tavern she enjoyed that your suspicions were confirmed.

With your basket and borrowed gold from the Queen, you had gone to the tavern most highborn enjoyed. It was not a real tavern, in your opinion. You had been to a couple of those, with other serving girls and stable boys. Lowborn like you were not allowed here, just as they weren't allowed in the expensive pleasure houses of the Street of Silks. There was no explicit prohibition, but the prices said it all.

What it was, was a good imitation, for young lords to pretend to be having the real experience, and feel adventurous. It was also a good place for seedy meetings among the highborn.

You were making the queue towards the counter to purchase the meat pies, overpriced and made with much better ingredients than any tavern grub when you heard them.

“And you have a daughter, right?”

“A newborn. Alicent.”

At first, you didn't pay much attention, letting the conversation drift over you. It contained nothing out of the ordinary. Just a new father bragging.

“Alicent is a pretty name. Queen Alicent.”

“Laenor is…”

“Barely a few years older than her.”

But then, you realized. You knew those voices! They belonged to the men who often met with the Queen. The one with silver hair was Lord Corlys Velaryon, and he was the husband of Princess Rhaenys. The other one, you could tell, was Ser Otto. There was a third man with them, that you did not recognize. He wore a hood over his head.

“It has a certain ring to it, Hightower.” Lord Corlys laughed.

“We have to move quickly. Before the news spread.” The unknown man said.

“News?” Ser Otto asked, frowning.

“Aemma is pregnant. I fear, if she manages to carry to term, some might prefer Viserys over Rhaenys. If she births a boy…” Lord Corlys grimaced.

“A line of Kings, uninterrupted.” Ser Otto grimaced too.

“She will not birth a boy.” The other man said.

“We can't be too sure about that.”

“I should leave. I have to meet with the Queen in half an hour.” Lord Corlys got up and walked out, passing near you. He spoke the truth. You had read so this morning, on the Queen's itinerary. You tried hard to look very focused on counting your gold coins, despite the Queen having handed you the exact amount.

The silence stretched. Now, you could not hear them as clearly, but you were curious. So you stepped a bit closer and asked the cashier to warm your meat pies, trying to hear more.

“Make sure she does not give birth to a boy.” Ser Otto ordered.

“Trust me. She won't even announce it. I will make sure of it.” The hooded man's voice had a dangerous edge to it.

“We can't have threats to Princess Rhaenys around.”

“And future Queen Alicent, either.” The hooded man replied, his tone turning more teasing. You wondered who this Alicent was, and how they planned to place her on the throne. You did not know any Targaryen by that name.

“That, too. You will be rewarded handsomely, of course.” Ser Otto’s reputation did not indicate him to be humorous, but there was a hint of mirth in his words that could not be faked. He was pleased by the exchange.

“I would like to be Maester of the Red Keep, I think.”

One of the men laughed. The cashier knocked the counter in front of you, annoyed. He was handing you the heated meat pies, and expecting his gold. You paid him without a word. And as you walked towards the exit, bundled pies under your arm, you heard them toast.

“Hear, hear. To Grandmaester Mellos and Otto Hightower, Lord Hand.”

“And baby Queen Alicent.”

“And baby Queen Alicent.”

Your walk back to the castle was troubled. You were smart enough to know the implications of their talk. Did the Queen know? Considering they were meeting outside the Red Keep, it was doubtful. Besides, it didn't fit with what you knew about her. She may have disagreed with the succession, but she would never hurt her granddaughter.

Corlys Velaryon had left before the discussion took place. While as ruthless as his companions, the others seemed wary of involving him. Perhaps because, if the plan was discovered, it would affect Princess Rhaenys claim.

Your mind was racing. You had to tell someone. They were talking about murdering a babe not yet born! Would the Queen believe you? You knew her enough to know that she would not hurt you for speaking, but you doubted she would heed your warning. Instead, she would go straight to Ser Otto. A lowborn girl’s word against the word of a Maester and one of her advisors? The joke told itself.

Your other option was telling the Lord Hand. But Lord Baelor scared you. He was deeply protective of his children after the death of his wife. You didn't know him enough to know he wouldn't murder the messenger.

But you could not keep the memory tucked away either. It burned at you, when you were brushing the Queen's hair. When you were bathing. When you were attempting to fall asleep.

The hooded man said that Princess Aemma would not even get to announce it. Your time was running out. You had to do something.

[fqrcefields]

checkmate!

chapter two <3

summary _ , april finally puts jennifer's phone number to use.

⋆ tags : smut! ⭑ࣶࣸ 

read on ao3.

 ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀────୨ৎ────

April hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her all week.

She hasn’t even finished a full chapter of her book, the business card still tucked between pages as a makeshift bookmark causing a flood of images to dominate April’s mind, distracting her entirely from the work of fiction. Along with said distraction, she is graced by the most embarrassing of blushes on a face that never does so, drawing too much attention to herself, forcing her to retreat to the bathroom to regain composure. No, she does not read the book. Yet it is seemingly surgically attached to her now, not allowing the enclosed phone number to travel any more than an inch from her fingertips at a time.

Her coworkers’ hate-fueled focus on Jennifer certainly is not helping. Everywhere April turns, there’s a video playing of Jen on another early-morning talk show, a picture of her face in the paper, with that big, toothy grin that makes April’s heart swell. To say it’s been difficult for April to fit in with this group of people so vehemently anti-Jennifer Barkley is an understatement. Though she’s never been one to share her emotions very publicly, even the smallest mention of Jen has April smiling like an idiot. Luckily, everyone around her is so consumed by their own want to win that they ignore the way April fades into the background.

It takes a full week of hopeful pining for April to muster up the confidence to finally text her.

It’s far too early in the morning, but the entire team had been called to watch Jen and Bobby discuss their campaign on Pawnee Today, and it’s not like April would ever give up the chance to see the woman on whom she harbors such a debilitating crush. She sits in the back of the conference room, nursing the biggest cup of coffee imaginable, hugging her book tight to her chest, which beats twenty times faster than usual. It must be the caffeine that’s given April such the adrenaline rush and enabled her fingers to send off the text message. Caffeine, and a need to see Jen— to smell that divine perfume that probably costs more than April’s entire wardrobe combined— that outweighs all of April’s typical anxiety.

what hotel are you staying at?

She sends first. Then, after a few minutes:

in case i want to murder you in your sleep or something.

Jennifer receives the texts right as she steps out of the soundstage, on the way to her car. It takes her a moment to register who it’s from, the area code far from the 202 she’s grown so used to. When it clicks in her mind, however, an immediate smile rises to her lips. Such a smile, in fact, that her idiot client asks after it, to which Jen simply responds with a bewildered eyebrow raise and a wave of the hand. She has to conceal her wild, cackling laughter until she finds the safety of her car.  

Jen responds once she’s home, not giving in to her own excitement, wanting to force her mouse’s anticipation. She would never want to come off as desperate, even though her fingers (along with every single other ounce of her being) are furious to send a text back. She does, once it’s been a little less than an hour, giving her soon-to-be murderer the name of the hotel. No, not hotel, motel. Because why should Jen have the luxury of a warm shower and more than one pillow? Hopefully her little raven will show up at her door soon enough and save her from shag carpet and thin robes. Though, if April is soon to be the one wearing the robe, Jennifer won’t mind its thinness.

Show up she does, but only once the sun has gone down. It’s after Jen has read through all of her daily newspapers and refreshed Politico nearly a thousand times, leaving her to deal with her own boredom the way anyone outside of D.C. would. She can’t deal with Perd Hapley’s voice anymore and would quite literally rather die than listen to Pawnee public radio. So, when April appears at her door, Jen can’t conceal her relieved smile— as much as she plays it off as being coy.

“I figured you’d be bored of diner food.” April shrugs slightly, trying to hide her own smile behind sarcastic manor and feigned disinterest. She doesn’t want Jennifer to know that she’d driven all the way to Eagleton to pick up the only food within a hundred miles that could scratch the surface of Jennifer’s refined palate, but there’s something within April that’s so eager to please, so restless to hear Jen tell her she’s done something right. Though, there’s also something within her that yearns for the degradation, that so wants to be yelled at in the way that Jen yells at people she finds stupid.

“Good girl,” Jennifer purrs, subtly undoing the top buttons of her blouse as she ushers April into the room. She admires the younger woman’s outfit, for what it’s worth. Though her affinity towards skinny jeans and zipper hoodies is far from Jen’s own style, she finds the tight-fitting clothes entirely intoxicating. Jen takes her sweet time admiring the brunette, her own lower lip captured between teeth so desperate to feel skin that they’re nearly drawing blood. She leans against the end of the bed, simply to observe, to enjoy every tiny, slow movement of her opponent. Though, she can’t be all too calculating, when an absolutely divine smell tickles her nose.

“My God,” she hums, her stomach growling its approval. “I didn’t know this town was capable of good food.” Jen laughs, stepping forward to join April at the small motel desk. “Color me impressed.” She places a hand on the younger woman’s lower back, middle fingers sneakily looping through the belt loop of the black jeans, grip firm on the denim beneath. This elicits the smallest gasp from April, which she attempts to cover up with words that never fully form. She’s lost all of her typical off-putting charisma now, merely left an unthinking form of flesh that begs to be molded by Jennifer.

“It isn’t,” April finally musters, and leaves it at that. If she’s going to be so incredibly vulnerable around this woman, she’ll try her best to protect the very last bit of mystery she can conjure. Jennifer appreciates this, finds it impossibly charming, a challenge that she’s insatiably hungry for after so many hours spent on the least challenging campaign of her life.

Once they’ve plated themselves what is, to Jen at least, a meal equivalent to Jesus’ last supper, Jennifer takes a seat at the desk’s rolling chair, looks up to April with her proudest smirk.

“Only one chair.” She pouts, legs spreading a little as she gets as comfortable as possible in the degrading pleather. Jennifer stares at April with all of her might, daring the girl to stare back, to enter this arena of eye contact, but April is unable. Despite her usual menacing Kubrick stare, the moment she comes into proximity with Jennifer Barkley, April completely falls apart at the seams. It’s not something she’s ever experienced, but April is so impossibly intimidated by Jennifer, so incredibly turned on by the woman’s tempting smirk, that she barely even feels like herself anymore. It's as if her brain has been invaded, taken over, melded into something of Jennifer’s control.

April’s eyes migrate down, forcing themselves out of the magnetic pull of Jennifer’s own, looking toward the floor as is her preferred avoidant posture. Though, as she looks down to the floor, she is interrupted by a hand that moves ever so slightly against grey material. A movement so brief yet so very taunting, as if beckoning April to it. Her eyes flick back up to Jennifer’s once more, note the way her pupils have expanded, the way she pensively chews on her lip, the tautness of her lifted brows. Everything about Jennifer oozes confidence, but more so now than her usual talk show pretension. Now, she’s undone. Hair messy, shirt so unbuttoned that April can see the lace border of her bra. She’s illuminated by a single yellow lamp, not the hundreds of fluorescents that April is used to seeing her under. Jennifer is domestic now, human, no longer the Washington robot from the news. She is warm flesh and blood, and it’s entirely impossible for April to keep her hands away from that very warmth.

April has never known herself to be the initiator, so she finds it hard to comprehend what it is that takes over her as she straddles herself over Jennifer’s thighs and plunges her lips onto the brunette’s. It must simply be the pent-up need, the seven days she’s spent doing truly nothing other than thinking about Jennifer, fantasizing about her, praying that she might walk in through the office doors again. It is that desperation that finds April tugging on the woman’s string of pearls, kissing her so very deeply that they nearly spill out of the small chair.

April lights up with the vibration of Jennifer’s chuckle— which either comes from amusement or pure pleasure over April’s forwardness— but she is far too intoxicated by Jennifer’s perfume to even pay the short laughter any mind. Her already swimming mind is only further done in by the patchouli and bergamot that still lingers on Jennifer’s collar even the end of the day, so strong that she feels drugged, her mind’s only real thought being the one that keeps her kissing Jennifer. She kisses the older woman with such fervor that it takes all of the breath from her lungs, her eyes gone fuzzy when she eventually pulls back for air. When April realizes her own action, sees Jennifer leaned back, signature smirk of Chanel Rouge now smudged, she can’t help but apologize. She’s never wanted anything so much so that she’s taken action to get it, so she finds herself simply shocked, amazed, power hungry, yet entirely apologetic, nervous from her own wanting.

Jennifer’s own chest has begun to buzz. She had entirely expected that their chess game would take hours— that’s how long Jennifer would employ her teasing. She was ready to watch April’s walls crumble over the span of a night, not mere minutes. Yet here Jen sits, her own breath stolen from her, her grip so tight around April’s ass that her knuckles threaten to turn white. Everything within her wants to joke, to tease, to make that little pout on April’s lips remain for as long as possible, but there’s a teeny, tiny little piece of Jen that just fucking wants to kiss this girl already.

“Bed,” she says sharply, her chest still heaving a bit to fully catch up. Jennifer grins as April does just as she’s said, and though she is not too far behind, Jennifer takes a moment just so that April knows exactly who is in control of the board. Once she hears that awful squeak of the mattress, knows that April has found herself laying in the highest thread count available in Pawnee, Jennifer stands. Though it pains her to turn her back to their spread of food, her stomach growing furious at her for the betrayal, Jennifer dares not sully this moment with such a feeble need as hunger.

The vision of April laying on the bed, pupils blown out and bangs already sticking to her forehead from the lack of central air in this room, is enough to bring Jennifer to her knees. Well, not exactly to her knees. But it’s enough for her to speed up her steps, to land on the bed above April, to press a taunting kiss to her lips before pulling back, not allowing the younger woman any more than that. At least, at first. Jennifer hovers over April, hands dipping under the thin fabric of thrifted long-sleeve, holding her so tenderly. She feels so differently for April than she does the others she’s been with. In D.C., it is merely sex. Something that she is very good at, yes, but for the most part, something to be tossed aside once it is done. This is not at all to imply that Jennifer does not enjoy random hook-ups in club bathrooms, but it is to say that she has not felt a real affection for someone in the way that she feels for April. There is an innocence behind those huge, dark eyes that Jennifer just wants to nurture, something in the teasing attitude that Jennifer never wants to be far from.

April attempts to lift herself, to kiss Jennifer, to finally release the tension that has been building between them for far too long, but she is met by a hand on her cheek, pinning head to pillow. Jennifer is not yet ready— she wants to appreciate this for the time it will take, does not want it to become yet another body in her count. The older woman cannot help the stare with which she holds April, cannot stop her thumb from sliding across her cheek until it eventually lands in April’s mouth, who eagerly accepts it atop her tongue. The large eyes staring back, the quiet noises of April’s mouth around Jennifer’s finger— it all proves too much for Jennifer, she cannot waste any more time staring.

The brunette dips her head, and though she misses the warmth of April’s mouth when she removes her thumb, the softness of her lips replacing themselves upon Jennifer’s is apology enough. Jennifer kisses her all too greedily, not giving the younger a second before her tongue darts into the woman’s mouth, her hands lifting to cradle the sides of April’s head so that she does not shift out of the way. Jennifer’s hips begin their instinctual rocking against the scratchy material of April’s jeans, but the pencil skirt hugging her own thighs is far too restrictive for such a move. As she lifts herself to hike said skirt up to her hips, April takes the opportunity to undo the rest of the buttons of her shirt, finally releasing flesh, finally pressing her fingers to the skin beneath the silk. The touch elicits such a reaction from Jennifer that neither expected: a sharp gasp, a plunge back into kissing so feverish that a voyeur would believe these two were reconnecting after years of one being missing. This past week very well could have been a year or more, for the desperation that it has built within both April and Jennifer.

Jennifer’s hands leave April’s face, the nails that were once perfectly manicured, now horribly chipped, running over goosebumps until they land at April’s belt. She undoes the raven-haired girl’s jeans as if her most basic human function— despite having not even spoken to anyone wearing jeans in ten odd years. April’s breathing becomes halted as Jennifer’s hand slips beneath the fabric, toying gently at the fabric of her underwear, lace. As much as she’d like to tease April for it, for purchasing a new set of lingerie just for their little rendezvous, the only thing that escapes Jen’s lips is a groaning ‘fuck’ when she finally notices just how wet the underwear is.

April’s vocabulary has similarly been reduced to only curses, with the occasional ‘Jen— God—’ moaned loudly enough she’s sure to be heard down the hallway. The latter is what sends Jennifer reeling, drunk on the way that her own name sounds coming from April’s lips. She has grown so used to ‘campaign manager Jennifer Barkley’, that to hear such a casual nickname, something so humanizing and domestic, is so incredibly arousing to her.

April’s back begins to arch from the slightest brush of movement against her underwear, her body under touched for far too long. As Jennifer finally pulls April’s jeans around her knees, she presses kisses to her belly, then her thighs— the kisses become significantly rougher here, teeth gently grazing over the plump flesh that they find. April’s hands fling to Jennifer’s hair, the perfectly set coif of curls now falling loose at her shoulders, April’s overwhelmed tugging not doing much for the style’s stability.

It's the harshest of all of April’s tugs that finally has Jennifer pushing the underwear to the side, slipping two fingers into the woman’s cunt. The action forces the loudest of April’s moans, a volume so rarely met by April’s vocal cords, yet in Jen’s presence, becoming all too common. The sweet moans are downright obscene, so very dirty that Jennifer can barely keep her head on her own shoulders. Her kisses to April’s stomach have become sloppy; she’s practically drooling all over the younger woman. Jennifer’s hips have continued their feverish rocking by now, and though April can barely conceive a thought beyond Jennifer’s name, she is just lucid enough to kick up her leg, pressing her thigh firmly into the politician’s clothed cunt. The contact sends white-hot pleasure coursing through Jennifer, but it is more April’s own pleasure which Jennifer seeks. Her free hand holds firm around the girl’s thin hips, holding her off of the bed so that her pumping may hit the perfect spot, may elicit more of those salacious moans from lips that begged to be kissed.

Jennifer greedily returns to said lips, her own grown swollen and over-hydrated from fervent caressing that they sting when April takes them between her teeth. The pain is more than welcome, as is the way that April’s hands force up Jennifer’s shirt, her nails clawing down skin. They are both sure to be covered in purple bruises come morning. Jennifer revels in the very thought that April will have to see Jennifer’s staked claim each time she gets dressed, that she will blush at the very sight of herself in the mirror, will get hot and bothered all over again before the workday has even started.

April has gone nearly breathless, her body tense in Jennifer’s grasp. She would not be surprised if her jocular threat of death were to become real. The way that Jen’s thumb lightly strikes her clit and then recedes, teasing, proving that Jennifer is still the one in control, sends a shiver through April. This sends her body only closer into Jennifer’s arms, who greedily accepts this nearness, for someone who has quite literally pushed away every single person that has attempted so much as a hug. She can feel herself being so corrupted by April, her very nature being distorted, becoming humanized, becoming tender. It sickens Jennifer, but she cannot possibly focus on her own morality when there is such a beautiful woman riding her fingers.

April’s muscles have gone tense, are threatening to cramp from how tightly she holds Jen between her thighs. Jennifer finally relents, allows April the pleasure she’s begun begging for, presses her thumb firmly to April’s clit. What soft groans were once pleading are now simply pathetic from pleasure, all caution for privacy thrown to the wind. Jennifer’s kisses have moved to April’s jaw, sure to leave her territorial markings there, and as her position allows, she whispers soft, teasing degradations about just how naughty the rest of the motel’s occupants must find her. Everyone will know how good I make you feel, she reminds the raven countless times, her laughter dark against April’s ear, her tongue sliding along sharp jaw.

April’s fingers nearly rip Jennifer’s shirt when the pleasure in her stomach finally builds up so much that she cannot take it anymore. She grips onto the silk as if for dear life, squeezes her thighs around Jennifer’s own so tightly that neither woman can move very much.

“Good girl.” Jennifer repeats, her head still nuzzled into the mess of hair in the crook of April’s neck, her hand’s movements unrelenting so that April becomes ever so slightly overstimulated. Jen doesn’t want to overdo it, she’s sure this is the first time April’s been fucked in years. At least this well.

 “I can’t see why you would possibly want to stay here tonight… But I’d like you to.” Jennifer grins as the two slowly return to normal breathing. She gently pushes the hair from April’s face, pulling her hand to her mouth, staring deep into April’s blown out pupils as she indulgently accepts the dripping fingers onto her own tongue.

“I’ll stay…” The younger stutters. April’s voice has gone weak, and has dropped back to its typical nonchalant cadence. Though there is no nonchalance in the way her voice shakes, in the lack of air in her lungs, in the way her hips still rock slightly against Jennifer.

Jennifer takes a moment to admire what she’s made of April. She laughs softly to herself, remembering just how stoic and timid April had once looked behind her office desk. The laughter causes concern to wash over the younger woman’s features, but as Jennifer buttons her shirt back up, she leans forward to press a gentle kiss to April’s lips, dissipating the fear entirely. She can feel something in the pit of her stomach telling her not to get attached, that she’ll only be here for a while and there’s just no way that a young girl like this would want to move her entire life to another state. She wouldn’t to get April caught up in the world of Washington. And yet, here she is, feeling incredibly dedicated to April, so very enthralled by that slanted smile and slightly baffled knitted brows.

As difficult as it is for her to get up—physically, because April is still wrapped around her body like a python— Jennifer slides out of the bed, into her slippers, walks toward the bathroom.

“C’mon baby,” she hums, barely tossing a glance over her shoulder. “We’re not done.”

[username-1121]

The Rise and Fall of Career Success in Vedic Astrology

I just watched D Angelo Wallace’s video on Katy Perry’s downfall in her music career. I found it so interesting and wanted to know whether we could see this decline present in her chart. Which is why we’ll be discussing music artists who suddenly rise to fame, as well as the indicators of one’s decline in their career and why some are able to sustain this fame for such a long time.

Note: I’ll only be discussing the D1 and D9 charts, as well as using the Vimshottri Dasha systems. If anyone who’s more qualified or has a valid opinion regarding my research, please don’t hesitate to comment, I’m always open to learning more :)

~~~~~~~~~~

✨So what causes the rise and fall of someone’s success? ✨

To make a long story short, the answer is simply “Mahadashas”.

A lot of people have fame indicators as well as very favourable yogas in their charts but many won’t ever run through the favourable Dasha in order to experience these fruits in this life time. Or they may run through it too early or late in their life.

- The dignity of your Mahadasha/Antardasha planet is SO important. If the planet isn’t strong or atleast well aspected then you won’t be able to reap the full benefits of that planet.

- The D9 chart is extremely important, if the mahadasha is well placed in the D1 but not in D9 then we can see a rapid decline in one’s career.

Exhibit A: Katy Perry

Katy Perry is currently experiencing a massive decline in her music career. Why is that? During her peak in the 2010s, Katy was running her Saturn Mahadasha which was in great condition in her chart :

- Exalted in her D1 chart

- But also well aspected by benefics.

- Saturn is also a yogakaraka planet for her D1 libra lagna.

If we look at her D9 chart her Saturn still maintains it’s strength:

-Saturn is in Taurus (Venusian sign)

- Saturn Conjunct Moon

- The ruler Venus in its own sign

As we can see she had an extremely favourable Saturn, she was destined to achieve some sort of recognition and success during that mahadasha. Especially in Venusian pursuits.

In 2014 she entered her Mercury mahadasha. Many will tell you that after 2015 her career took a sharp decline. If we look at her Mercury in her D1 chart we see that Mercury is indeed in a favourable sign. Although it is negatively aspected by Saturn it is still receiving good aspects from other beneficial planets. Saturn is still considered favourable in her chart so why was the decline in her career so tremendous?

Once we look at the D9 chart we notice how Mercury:

- Is Debilitated in Pisces.

- The ruler Jupiter is conjunct Ketu

This shows us how Katy Perry needs to focus more on improving her Spiritual life rather than just the material world. Which is why her art is no longer connecting with the masses the same way it did during her Saturn mahadasha.

I would argue to say that the only reason why everyone is so aware of her decline is because she’s currently in her Rahu antardasha. She unfortunately has eyes on her but not in the way she would like. As we can see Rahu can indeed bring “fame” but its not always in our favour.

But what about the artists receiving this sudden rise to fame?📈✨

Exhibit B: Charli XCX

Charli XCX has been a well known artist for the past decade. She had her popular song “Boomclap” reach the charts in 2014, but ever since then a lot of people would say that she kind of flew under the radar since then. So what’s the reason for her sudden success?

She is currently in her Rahu mahadasha which she entered in 2013. If we look at her D1 chart Rahu is in Sag:

- the ruler Jupiter in Leo.

- Rahu is aspected by many benefics.

But once we look at the D9 chart we see that:

- Rahu is exalted in Taurus,

- with the ruler Venus exalted in Pisces

So this period is bound to be beneficial for her especially in her creative endeavours.

She rose to sudden fame when she was in her Rahu Mahadasha and Rahu Antardahsa in 2014. But then things went silent until late 2023 when she entered her Ketu antardasha which is exalted in her D9 chart.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she continues to remain successful during her Venus antardasha due to her Venus being exalted in the D9.

Let’s take a quick look at Sabrina Carpenter who’s also been receiving some traction.

Exhibit C: Sabrina Carpenter

She had previously (2004 - mid 2024) been in her Saturn Mahadasha, Saturn is neutral in her D1:

- Saturn in Aries aspected by Ketu and Mars

If we look at her D9 chart:

- Saturn is in Leo but still very much conjuncted by Ketu

As we can see the planet Saturn is not strong in her chart. Saturn is also well known for being a planet that reinforces obstacles, so the fact that it doesn’t have many benefic influences helping Sabrina ease into the process is very much seen in her career. Due to this Sabrina was less likely to get early/easy success. As we can see in this mahadasha she faced many delays, challenges and late success. Saturn is not denying any success but rather delaying it.

Sabrina has 5 studio albums and 24 singles. As we can see she had been releasing music for a very long time but hadn’t gained any traction. So what changed?

Sabrina’s career rose to success when she entered her Jupiter antardasha, if we look at her chart:

- Jupiter is well placed in its own sign Pisces, in both the D1 and D9, which is considered Vargottama which is extremely powerful in astrology. In Sabrina’s case it is yielding positive results.

However will Sabrina sustain this success?

Sabrina had recently (last month actually) entered her Mercury Mahadasha which she will remain in for the next 17 years.

I personally think that Sabrina’s career might have a subtle decline and remain neutral. She won’t continually get the same attention like we’ve seen in the past few months. Of course she will still have a huge following and have people interested in her music, but it won’t be as “huge” as the era she’s currently in.

Mercury is heavily aspected by malefics and isn’t making any impressive moves in her D9 as well. She might currently be in her “peak” and the public might slowly start to divert their attention elsewhere.

Then again Saturn is known to give you success (after hard work) which reaches great heights and sustains for a very long time, so I could be very much mistaken.

But who knows, that’s just based on what I’m seeing, I haven’t done a full on analysis but I would love to know what your thoughts are on this prediction👀

And what about those who remain successful for a long time?

So we’ve discussed what allows massive success in a Mahadasha. We’ve also discussed why some people who’ve previously experienced massive success but have a sudden fall from grace, well others experience a sudden rise and why it took them so long.

But I wanted to check this same techniques with other celebrities who manage to sustain their relevance and success for long periods of time.

When we see celebrities like Ariana Grande, Billie Eilish, Rihanna etc. who manage to remain relevant and still achieve success in their endeavours it’s usually because they’re experiencing a long Mahadasha which is well placed in both their D1 and D9.

And if they do change mahadashas, that usually means that the dasha planet is still benefic in their charts therefore the success pronlongs itself.

✨Bonus observation✨

I read this article by Shankar Bhattachrjee, where he discusses this technique when checking for successful Mahadasha periods.

And he mentions how even numbered Mahadashas are more successful periods compared to the odd numbered Mahadashas.

So for example: if you were born in a Saturn mahadasha, that’s your 1st Dasha (one being an odd number) so if this mahadasha prolongs for a long time then you’re more likely to experience a very a hard and challenging period in your life.

Once you reach the 2nd Dasha (two being an even number) in this example it would be Mercury, things during this Dasha are more likely to be more successful and beneficial during this time period.

And this continues on, so Dasha 1, 3, 5 tend to be harder compared to 2,4,6 Dashas.

So if you’re currently in your 3rd Dasha then you’re more likely to face hardships and struggle in your life.

Please read the article down below, he really does explore this in greater detail and more nuance.

But I found this to be very accurate especially studying all the charts I mentioned above, as well as other celebrities. Of course there will be one or two exceptions but I found this technique to be almost 90% accurate. I also found this very accurate when studying the charts of people that I know in my personal life.

I notice that celebrities tend to almost always shoot to stardom/success during their even numbered Dasha, and will sometimes decline in their success during odd numbered Dasha. I saw this present in Katy Perry, Selena Gomez, Beyoncé, etc. who are all currently having a decline in their career because they’re in their odd numbered dashas.

Of course if the planet is well placed in the D1 and D9, and your birth chart has a promise of success then things will manifest differently.

Eg: Billie Eilish and Ariana Grande, both rose to fame during their 3rd Dasha but they of course have multiple beneficial yogas in their charts and are going through a beneficial Dasha according to their respective charts. So they are the exception :)

If you haven’t you should check out more of his blogs on the website, he has some incredibly accurate and interesting astrological insights :)

[thegreatyin]

so.

st erzulie's candle, huh?

caeru enters the nadir hot on the heels of mangling his destiny into that of a most tormentous end, with most of his loved ones at this point either discarded or outright abandoned in favor of his patron. he has nothing left to do. nothing left to live for. nothing left to stave off his fate.

it's... an odd sensation, plunging into irrigo depths, and not just because of the color's nature.

he just. well.

he thought he'd be more excited to end it all. right now all he feels is emptiness and regret.

no matter. he's far too deep to turn back now.

fittingly, i drew the QUEEN OF INKS card on my very first try. no surprise, given it's ubiquitous frequency.

st erzulie is a special candle. it doesn't require much. SMEN 42 and st destin's, sure, but beyond that? you can reach it pretty easily. unlocking the nadir in normal gameplay is arguably harder than this...

...for the most part. everyone who's so much as browsed the SMEN walkthrough on the wiki knows there's a very important, very special catch.

lilac (or what remains of her) says it best. you've given up your past and your present, and now? now it's time to give up your future. mr eaten doesn't do sacrifices by halves, after all.

it starts out innocent enough. give up your tattoo- special extra 1-2 points of BDR that you can (ironically) only obtain during the current festival. it's a small thing. a negligible thing. sure, losing out on free stuff sucks, but it's not like it's anything too irreplaceable.

except after that it gets worse.

sacrifice your profession- weekly payouts, professional activities, tools of the trade, all of that down the drain. an objective and irrecoverable loss.

sacrifice your notability- no more unsigned messages, no more t3 lodgings, no more PoSI upgrades, no more railway, period. everyone who's ever had to deal with the horrors of fallen london's midgame making waves grind knows just how much this is both a blessing and a curse. mostly the latter. especially the latter.

sacrifice your ambition- this is a central part of most FLPCs! arguably the "main story questline" for the entire game! textually, it's the reason your character came to the neath to begin with! and it's all gone! forever!!!!

all of it is gone. forever.

the only negligible things are the enigma and destiny sacrifices- enigma is an obscure developer commentary easter egg that isn't really worth playing or keeping to begin with, and while losing your destiny sucks- especially if you had an advanced destiny from irem- it's nothing that isn't already faced by the player when choosing to take the torment destiny required for st destin's candle. or there's the slowcake route, i guess, if you really want to take vengeance on the guy.

from both a gameplay and story perspective, i adore this. it's an excellent way to look the player in the eye and ask them if they really want to commit to this road. it's practically an embodiment of SMEN's themes and role as a journey of purposeful self-annihilation- it hurts! obscurity fucking hurts! if you've built up an endgame account across months and months of dedicated time and energy, it hurts to throw that all away just for one measly item that doesn't even have a purpose beyond accelerating your character's demise!

except, there's, uh,

there's one very important thing about st erzulie i've purposefully neglected to mention so far. one very important, very crucial detail that flips the entire tone and context of this choice on its head.

you don't actually need to do any of that.

the game presents you with one option- the horrible bane that is obscurity- and then simultaneously hands you a get-out-of-jail-free card that does exactly what it says on the tin. you can get this candle for free. there is no debilitating cost. all you need to do is click the button and throw your dignity away.

i've had a good bit of time to think about this, and even now, i'm still really mixed about this choice. on one hand, this undermines the entire point of the candle and what it represents. on the other hand, it's a legitimately good deal, and i love the concept of a game option where the only consequence is having to live with and know your own sins. it's like if undertale let you do the entire no mercy route, but implemented a skip button that lets you ignore having to fight sans. do you really value convenience over your own conscience? is ending the game still an achievement to be valued if you didn't actually work for it? if you play something with cheat codes on, is that any more or less legitimate than actually playing the game for real?

i suppose it all ties back into the nature of post-rework SMEN- the version that currently exists in fallen london and is freely available as we speak- compared to pre-rework SMEN, the version that is forever lost to the sands of time. i've heard it said that if pre-rework SMEN gleefully stabs you with a dirty knife and leaves you to rot, its post-rework incarnation simply hands you the knife and politely invites you to stab yourself with it. it's the difference between being a straight-up masochist and having to decide whether or not you're a straight-up coward. both have their virtues and their vices, but one is very much different than the other.

and as for what i picked, ahahaha, well,

i'm afraid i'm a coward. i have my own reasons for taking the easy way out, but i'm a coward nonetheless. i'm a coward any and every day of the week.

i think, ultimately, i would prefer if this choice didn't exist, even if i took it and i respect the intention behind it. forcing the player to willingly embrace obscurity and all its horrors is a lot more closely-aligned with SMEN's overall themes and narrative than this free bypass key that suddenly gets meta about the sins crawling down your back. is it really hypocritical to think that whilst gleefully hammering this skip button with my grubby little paws? yes. do i think it anyway? also yes.

(that's not to say it doesn't have its worth, of course, or that everyone else who took it is wrong for doing so- or even that they're wrong for liking it!! it's just my own preference. i just want post-rework SMEN to be meaner. and maybe slightly less prone to making me ramble for several dozen paragraphs about its features.)

melodramatic ramblings about the nature of SMEN's game design aside, the text here is beautiful and absolutely iconic. huge ffxiv dark knight questline vibes. that, for the record, is a compliment.

"i love you. you imagined me. what else could i do but love you?"

i just. aughhh. it's so good. it's so lovely. i don't have any more rambling in me, nor am i really confident in my ability to dissect how and why this line makes me run in circles like a rabid dog, i'm just foaming at the mouth and desperately in need of a gun to the head about it.

and with all of that exhaustively said, only two candles remain before the end of my seeking journey!!!!!!! by the time this post goes live, caeru will have already set out to the chapel of lights in search of the 6th candle, st fortigan- you'll all probably see that post come sometime later this week.

after that, naturally, awaits st gawain. and after that awaits nothing at all.

he doesn't want to doubt. he can't afford to doubt. he can't let himself doubt. if he doubts, if he turns back- what's even the point? what even waits for him if he comes home after all this time?

and yet. and yet.

it goes without saying at this point, but since this post is so long and so rambley- at the risk of sounding like an old-timey kids show broadcast channel- i'd just like to take the time to thank all y'all for reading and (even tangentially) following my FL adventures. they've come to mean a lot to me over the year (singular), and i earnestly hope they mean something to y'all too.

i can't wait to cut off my sad twink's head (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

[batboyblog]

Interesting thing to consider regarding our situation from Magdi Jacobs. She’s been fairly levelheaded so far about all this. The Pandemic really did change us all and how we perceive things.

The constant stressful vigilance we all needed during the pandemic is still in effect from that era, and that’s why there’s such a disconnect between what we see and feel as true:

https://x.com/magi_jay/status/1812531377184653581?s=46&t=9ilK5pqP73XDblTtTbb4Qg

I don't disagree with her, and I know for a fact she also agrees with what I have to say here:

Covid is part of it, maybe it is its own thing, maybe it super charged something that had been happening in slow-mo before

but I think algorithmic social media is breaking all our brains and Covid locked SO many of us inside with it for a year and a half or so where our only "human" contact was through social media and that was NOT helpful

There's lots of studies about social media and anxiety and depression, we know algorithms intentionally put stories/posts that upset you into your feed, we know that social media causes negative polarization.

speaking just of my own experience on twitter over the last two weeks it really challenges your sense of reality, twitter very quickly forms a group think about a current event and it becomes overwhelming, also it destroys any sense of time and prospective, so nothing is allowed to just be bad it has to be THE WORST THING EVER! and from the debate and now Trump's fist pump after getting shot at everything is NOW! the election is not 4 months away with all the events that will take over the news, people are voting just this second and only based on this news story rn! AAHHHH!!! !

by its short form nature twitter makes it feel as if people are having a conversation with you, but your ability to reply and question their statements is limited and I think that makes for extreme anxiety if the group think challenges your understanding of events/reality. So Joe Biden had a bad debate night, sounded bad, looked bad, he was a sick, jet lagged, overworked, old man and looked and sounded like all of that. Oh well, but the group think quickly shifted to "this is the worst thing ever, he clearly has dementia!" and you were bombarded by that over and over, in more and more shrill and condescending tones. And it became very stress inducing because people were seeing something you didn't see and insisting "don't believe your eyes and ears! believe my hot takes!" and you felt like you were losing your mind.

This is one current event but this happens on social media all the time, twitter is bad, TikTok is worse.

I also think for "younger" (under 40?) people raised on reality TV, and more so instagram, Facebook, now TikTok picture and video based social media there's a, life as reality TV show quality, an unspoken performance and need to make our lives seem perfect for an unseen (and not real) audience, and also to be seen as having the right views, but living in quick sand where liking or using anything could become a problem at any point and having to keep up endlessly. I also think this is intensely anxiety producing and also just debilitating, I don't think you can DO anything good in the world with that mindset

final thought: I've said for awhile I think why you see so many people declaring the economy is bad, regularly saying its historically, Great Depression levels bad, when it is in fact really good, as near to full employment as we've ever had lots of great economic indicators is left over Covid trauma.

We all went through a scary, sad, upsetting time in our lives. But because we ALL did if nothing happened to you particularly, you didn't get hospitalized, don't have long Covid, no one you're close with died and you couldn't be there for them, it might feel like "nothing" happened. So people are reaching for a "logical" reason for that edgy, sad, nervous, upset, unhappy feeling they can't get rid of. Normally that comes from economic anxiety, fear of not having enough money, or losing a job etc. So many people are reporting that they think the national economy is terrible while saying they think they themselves are doing well, that their local or state economy (that they see an interact with) is doing good, while the nation is doing bad, somehow. People are spending like they're doing well as well, never had it so good, never felt so bad.

I suspect its because we're all still dealing with Covid feelings, and thanks to social media, the death of common spaces, political radicalization, we never really came together and drew a line under Covid, it just kinda sputtered out and we slowly went back to our lives like nothing happened.