#i don't believe in your god either and if he does exist i hope he dies. it's all his fault that my life is ruined.

[omg-ame-chan]

hi! if you're scrolling through the tw suicide tag and searching for people's vent posts for the sole purpose of preaching to them about god in the replies, then i have a very meanly worded message for you! it's a three letter acronym that starts with 'k' and ends with 's' 🩷

[slightly-knot-insane]

omfg congrats on your blog! truly deserve it

meanwhile let me get this outta my horny ass

stressed with work, you pray to any god who hears to take your troubles away

demon hears and demon takes

Thank you so much! I hope you'll enjoy my little snippet for you.

[m!demon x gn!reader]

New Acolyte

You've never wanted to be a part of a strict religious cult. You were basically sold into it since your parents were too poor to feed and educate you. And now you spend your best years serving gods you don't even believe in. Even worse, you've been promoted to an acolyte and you run around and serve other members like a slave. You're the youngest and most disobedient - there is always work for such as yourself.

You sigh in front of the altar. Every evening you wipe it with a damp cloth and put three candles on top. Candles are sacred and can only be lit by higher members of the clergy. They pray every morning using these precious candles. They apparently have mystical powers and can fulfil wishes. High priests know what is the best for the clergy and what people need the most so only they can ask for favours from gods.

Your mouth twists into a scowl. What about what you need? These gods don't care that you desire so much more than these dark halls and chanting. This is no life to live!

Checking behind yourself to see if you're truly alone, you light the three sacred candles and kneel, saying your personal prayer. A truly blasphemous one. You are willing to do whatever it takes to escape this life. You don't care which god - if they even exist - does this.

"Just get me out of here!" You hit the floor with your fists, staring into the flames. They flicker once, twice, and a strong gust of wind blows them out.

"I hope you don't mind I'm no god." The voice behind you is deep and husky reminding you of lions purring. "But I can help you with your wish."

You don't dare turn around. Cold sweat covers your brows. You are in danger - something truly sinister is one step behind you. A long red arm emerges in front of you and gently takes you by the chin. "Turn around, young acolyte."

You have to obey. You fall on your soft behind because you tremble too much, but now you can see the creature that visits you. A tall, lean, creature. His eyes are fire and charcoal and his toned body a sinful shade of fresh blood. And he is completely naked.

"You said you would do anything to get out of here." His voice is strange, as if multiple people speak and echo. "I have a request." You are still trembling but you nod your head.

The demon's black and red cock (which you tried oh-so-hard not to stare at) erects as if on command. It is bigger than any human you've seen while sneaking around. So shiny and smooth. "Have you done this before?", he asks you.

You blush. "Only in dreams."

Demon smiles and two rows of extremely sharp teeth make you shiver. "Come here, and let me teach you."

You obediently crawl on the floor and reach the demons legs. His cock smells surprisingly nice, something like burnt caramel. You lick it - unfortunately it doesn't taste like any candy but it's not too bad either. Your inexperienced tongue twirls around the tip and you hesitantly plant kisses along the shaft. Demon strokes your head. "Very good. Now lick your palm and use your hand as well."

You nod again and do as instructed. Your hand moves up and down, jerking off the demon, and your pulse speeds up. It's not only excitement; you feel hot, like you have a fever. Your head and chest are burning. "Good little acolyte." Demon's voice is soft and he is towering you, a happy and terrifying grin on his face.

You are too hot! You have to remove all your clothes or you will melt! Without letting delicious demon cock fall out of your mouth, you remove all your robes and underwear. It barely helps - your skin could ignite any second! But it doesn't matter - this cock, this wonderous organ, exquisite limb - is all you can think about. Making it more wet, making it more hard, pleasuring it faster, more skillfully. Demon moans and his voices echo for a long time. "Acolyte..."

Some ethereal invisible hands touch your hot skin. They fondle your neck, back, nipples, stomach, slide between your thighs. You've never been touched like that. You shake from delight, never for a second letting go of that cock, working on that shaft with all your might. Demon's breath hitches and your mouth gets filled with sweet demon seed. Some of it end up on your naked body and you notice it's red like wine. The invisible hands are gone and you are left without release and soiled, excitement rushing through your veins. You need more.

"Please... Please... Take me... Don't leave me here..."

Demon smiles and touches your cheek with his sharp nail. "You are my acolyte now. I promised you new life. I'm not going anywhere without you."

[phntxm]

} (newby) demon muzan, soft muzan?, arranged marriage, fiancée! reader, fem! reader, mention of bl00d, reader's face got cut

let's pretend that blo0d transfusion exists in haien period a/n; usually, I stick to writing headcanons and avoid posting scenarios because I worry it might not be good enough. however, I've chosen to take a chance this time so if there are any mistakes, please bear with me y-y wc : 1.2k

you never imagined that one day you would willingly sacrifice yourself to aid your sick fiancé, who barely acknowledged you

he was unkind. neither of you had agreed to this arranged marriage; it was solely the decision of his family, the Ubuyashiki clan, who couldn't bear the thought of their ailing son dying alone

at first, the situation was difficult, Muzan be believed having a wife wouldn't extend his life or be of any use. you tried your best, simply aiming to fulfill the marriage contract, we don't have to be in love

the arrangement benefited both clans. the Ubuyashiki clan could lessen their appearance of pity by providing a wife for their son, while your family could regain their lost wealth and noble status during their down in luck

and at the turning point, when he was injured and lost a lot amount of blood. neither his family nor yours offered to help him, they were afraid to give blood to someone like him. they're just hired a cheap doctor to care for him, you were the only one willing to give him your blood without hesitation

after that, he was more open to you

until the day the doctor's medicine was effective

but without knowing it, you were only happy for your fiancé to become healthy like normal people. you heard a nonsensical rumor about a demon attacking people at night, it must be a bear or wild animals..

" I am greatly rejoiced for thee, that thy health hath now become better " you said it as you started to sit beside him on the warmed tatami mat, gazing out at the garden beyond

" the physic hath wrought an unexpected efficacy upon me " he nodded in agreement, raising his arm and gently squeezing it to show the increased muscle and strength he now possessed

" I heard he was a thrifty physician, deemed unfit, yet he proved skilled to mend thee, I do delight exceedingly " as you mentioned this, making Muzan to reconsider his first encounter with the doctor. he couldn't believe he would successfully be healed, as the doctor was merely a cheap physician hired by his clan

" in speaking thereof, thou dost prove thyself useful to me " he turned his face towards you and smiled gently, a smile that could barely be called a smile

" I do greatly admire thy bravery " he said, his smile filled with pride and happiness, yet tinged with a sadistic undertone that sent shivers down your spine

his words left you stunned; you never expected a compliment from someone like him " my pleasure " you said as you bowed to him, It really makes you feel happy, yet it seems like god isn't kind to either of you

" yet unfortunately, I hope that one day thou and I may stroll together, now it is unwise to go abroad by night " you express how shameful it was for the chance of having a normal life with him to be interrupted by some kind of creature " folk do speak of a demon, that doth hunt people by night " you know he doesn't believe in anything silly like this, so the reaction he gave you afterward was not surprising

" demon.. tis the name by which they are called? " he chuckles softly, of course he would do that, you think, he's the man who- " art thou fearful of demons" his question caught you off guard. he doesn't mean it, does he?

sometimes he asks you strange questions, given that he has spent his entire life trapped in his own house. questions about the outside world grab his attention the most, so you didn't mind it, but that doesn't mean he would believe in such a fairy tale like this. you remain silent, not because you're trying to avoid his question, but as his voice shifts, growing more serious " in the night doth stalk a creature, feeding on flesh of men.. art thou afraid? " he looks at you, and you sense he already has an answer in mind. if you answer wrongly, you fear something bad might happen

" I do not believe in demons, tis but a wild beast " you answered while trying to hide the fear you felt, his question has indeed made the atmosphere awkward, you think

Muzan tilts his head slightly " is it so? what if... what if I be that demon? wouldst thou be afraid? " he seems to enjoy seeing you like that

" what do you mean? "

" thou hast heard my words. wouldst thou abandon me if I were that demon? even there is no chance of fleeing from me "

what on earth is he talking about? " I... " your words evoke a sense of fear and confusion, as he reaches his hand to gently touch your cheeks, his actions were so contrasting to what you felt; he touched you as if it were something fragile, yet not with the intention to protect, but to possess it, to do whatever he pleased with it

" what a pity. I do hold thee dear, and thou wilt surely prove useful unto me " you startled slightly; his hand felt so cold, almost as if he weren't human

" hast thou any final words? " you trembled, hearts beating fast, unsure if it was pure fear or excitement. you didn't feel the urge to run away; it was the same mix of emotions you felt when you first volunteered to give him your blood, the joy of helping someone you love, intertwined with the fear that death might be near, and you might not make it out alive " thou didst inquire if I fear demons? do I dread death? I would say, tis not that I lack fear, but the very thought of aiding thee doth making me to endure it " you're contemplating your feelings, realizing there's no right answer for him. in that moment, you didn't strategize on how to answer so he would spare your life, instead, you acted on what your heart felt, just being honest, something you wouldn't regret later— though there might be no 'later,' because you're going to die right here at his hands " I once gave thee my blood, I do not fear to give thee my blood again, it gladdens my heart that I may lend thee aid once more " you close your eyes, gently touching his hand on your cheek, cherishing this fleeting moment of happiness for the last time " take it all as thou dost desire " you said, as you turned to place a soft kiss on his palm, that even if he's not used to or doesn't like being touched, what's the worst that could happen? he's gonna kill me? then- well..

Muzan paused, stunned by your response. then, a sadistic smile slowly spread across his face once more, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing intensity. as he began to grow out his sharp, menacing nails, pressed them firmly against your cheek, and sliced your cheeks until they were red and bleeding " it would be discourteous of me to not return what I have received, I shall give thee my blood also " it was a gift from the demon king, leaving you unsure whether it should be seen as a blessing or a curse. nevertheless, if this is what god desires, then so be it

[gangplanksorenji]

A door that’s slightly ajar (and then, I opened them all up)

Pairing: LE SSERAFIM Yunjin x Male Reader

Word Count: 8939

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Of course, it's the down bad days for me, again and this time, I've been wanting to write something like this, like a student-like fic and here we are! I absolutely love writing this and creating up with titles like this—I really do!!! Also, big thanks for @majorblinks for beta-reading and making some corrections to my mistakes! Thank you so much! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy this fic and see you until the next time again! <3

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It's just another normal day of the week, is it? Yes, it is, and you're tired of it. There's nothing you can do either, unless, doing a significant change that will probably make the day more interesting. Yet, what change can you make? You can't even have one, at the moment, so you'll be back on this redundant day, again.

Thank god that your class dismissed early, and that uplifted your motivation of making that “change”. It was on a Saturday too, maybe it explains why your lecturer feels drowsier than usual—I mean, he already looks like that all of the time but whatever.

You kick your shoes, got your things packed on your bag on a quick two-hour discussion as you rushed your way out, going straight to the cafeteria so you could buy and eat your favorite chocolate-pecan flavored cookies there—and honestly, you don't really spend that much money on miscellaneous things, but those cookies are maybe worth dying for.

You drool in the imagination of it, and you can't wait to taste those.

*something thuds*

You're subtly startled by that sound. There's no ghost (you don't really believe in such, too) nor your friends trying to prank the living life out of you as maybe, you just speculate those are just those reckless students doing whatever they're doing.

“These people…”

Maybe it's because of Saturdays. Weekends are pretty much the busiest days at your end even though it's the time where people set themselves to rest—there's so much contradiction that it outdid itself more than an oxymoron.

Such unnecessary thoughts shall go and fade away, in your mind, at least. Why are you even overthinking about this? Too descriptive? Well, maybe, it's a yes but there's something more descriptive, and that's when you opened your locker, full of those damned textbooks you aren't even bothered to read. Why does it even exist anyways?

Too busy. Too unbothered. Too focused—

“Hello, baby.”

You shout at the sudden figure startling you, almost dropping your textbook and your folder full of your seatworks in the process. You then put them onto your locker and shut the door lock, then averted your unwanted eyes towards the girl in front of you.

“W-What do you want, Yunjin?”

Huh Yunjin. Yes, that's her name and it's classy whenever she gets called “Jennifer”, her English name. She's one of the most popular girls on the whole university thanks to her clever and smart mind, her pretty face and her personality, and her specialty, her ways of captivating the hearts of guys and gals with her charm-filled flirting and here you are, standing right beside her—

“You.” She pokes her finger onto your chest, talking about you and you only.

If this is just one of her games you're sick and tired of playing, you definitely have no time for this, especially since you know how much she'll want to seduce someone under her spell.

“Yunjin, I have no time for this, okay? If you have someth—”

“Why not, hm? Then tell me why you're frequently looking at me in the lecture earlier, baby.”

And yes, you're mostly in the same class with her. Even though maybe it's written in the stars that you're both destined to be in the same class with each other and to top it all off, it’s even with the most stressful subjects known to man. Even with her being an ultimate nuisance—the bane of your silence—there's still a positive side of this: her ability to make everything interesting. Yes, you stole glances with her earlier—then wait, if she knows about this, then she's looking at you often then—

“Then how would know that without stealing glances to me too—”

“Answer my question, baby…” Yunjin whispers to your ear as she extends her right arm, pinning you against the metallic locker behind you and her other arm reaching for your necktie, her eyes burning with desire and lust as she demands an answer escaping from your lips, right here, right now.

“Come on, baby. Answer me—”

“Is it maybe just a coincidence, Yunjin? Get off me—”

“Nu-uh, baby. You can’t escape me.”

Yunjin’s seductive voice never fails to bring you weak, onto your knees as it feels eargasmic to hear, her saccharine tone almost leaving you defenseless. Her firm grip onto your necktie leaves you vulnerable to her and there’s also no way you can escape her, and even if you wanted to and if you were successful, she’ll try her best to catch you. What does she even want from you, anyways? Why would you experience this treatment of hers instead of the other guys on the campus? Why even you?

Well, as much as you want to keep asking yourself those kinds of questions, there’s only one way to find out what she really wants: finding the answer yourself.

“Then, w-what the fuck do you want from me, Yunjin? Can’t you j-just do your thing to the other guys at the campus? Why even m-me?”

Well, if she would help herself on resisting you, she may—

“No—” Yunjin closes her face dangerously towards yours, just inches away from kissing you but you won’t let her. Her minty breath captivates you even more as her tone is the cherry on top—the mixture of sultry of sweet best describes it—but you won’t let yourself fall under the spell of this slut—

“Come on, baby. Don’t you want me, hm?”

Of course, she’ll lure her prey into the abyss of no-return (into the unknown depths of lust) and will get to her desired promised land. She’ll do everything to get what she wants and it even starts right now: her hot breath brushing off on the crook of your neck as she kisses the soft skin right after, letting your defenses crumble down in shambles as she’ll do what it takes to be hers for the time-being.

“I’ll make sure that you’ll never forget this day and…” Yunjin peppers your neck with passionate kisses as it’s not enough to leave a mark, yet enough for you to feel her immediate need for you. “I’ll let you do anything to me, baby.”

Is she really talking about this? Is she for real?

These thoughts linger in your mind as the last sentence turns you on. You know how this may end with Huh Yunjin—you getting in trouble as she gets away with an unscathed and clean record because of her mother being the president of the parent’s organization of the university and… you absolutely hate it. Yes, it’s unfair and you curse yourself on what could happen but how could you deny such a hot girl like Yunjin? Her pretty face, captivating eyes, her plump, kissable lips, her hot figure, spankable ass—there’s just not enough time on how perfect she can be and if you were to be asked, you can’t help but be attracted to her.

Yes, it may sound hypocritical but you meant what you said, or at least, what you thought. Giving in to your desperation and desire, you utter an almost inaudible answer that raises Yunjin's attention towards you.

“O-Okay, Yunjin…”

“Okay what, baby, hm?”

She continues peppering your neck with kisses that drive you insane. Her body is incredibly close towards you and you can't help but moan with the emanating heat she's making you feel. 

She needs further clarification—she wants to hear what you really want and possibly, saying it with your heart out, like, you really meant it.

“More, Yunjin, please…”

Desperate pleas can't go unanswered as Yunjin wasted no time talking but rather in a form of latching. Latching in a way her lips suckled onto the sharp collarbone which earned a moan for you as she knew exactly what you wanted all along—and it's like you won't give in to that damn temptation.

“Like that baby? Like how my lips just… pepper your smooth skin full of kisses, hm?”

“Yes—ahh…”

A soft moan fuels the fire of desire inside her. It was never new but something felt different and new at her end, but she brushes those things off as she averted her whole focus on marking you and kissing you all over.

“I love it when you moan for me, baby. Gladly, we're only getting started.”

Her fingers trace your pristine skin and up to your lips as she shut your moans, not letting any sound escape from it. 

“Well, let's up it an ante, shall we? I'm getting to know you a little more, baby~”

A little seduction is spicy and you fell for the trap that you'll absolutely be grateful of. Between the plethora of all of the possible things she can do to you, she wants only a single thing for now: and that's to feel how soft and good your lips taste, and especially, how they feel onto hers.

Latching her soft lips onto yours, you immediately reciprocate the kiss in probably less than a millisecond and you cherish it in every second possible as her lips are insatiable and tastes incredibly great. It was splendid and passionate, and you couldn't ask for more but the derivation towards lust makes you want more of it—rather, more of her.

Fuck foreplay—that is probably you, right now. 

You're not a big fan of build-ups nor teasing as you're incredibly impatient and it's proven to be tested right now and probably, you despise it—it's also maybe the fact that you're down bad for her at this moment. It's like you can do something to reach for climax immediately as you're deemed powerless, being captivated and allured under her spell, the animalistic urges inside you craving for more but you couldn't, yet. She'll let you drool over her and that only, for now. She's insatiable and you can't wait to get past the rising action. 

If you think about it, it's probably better like this before the main course as you can't help yourself from getting aroused from Yunjin's advances.

“God, you taste really good, baby. Is it your first time getting kissed on the lips, hm?”

“N-no…”

You stutter and she giggles. She finds it rather cute that a man like you gets feeble around her and she smiles on that fact. It's even better because of the fact that you can't do anything to retaliate against her actions and she knows you won't.

“Liar, hehe~ I bet no one kissed you, or—this fucking good, hm?” 

Her stern tone turns you on more than you can imagine as she demands an answer yet the serenity of her voice contradicts the devil—the venom laced between her words of lust and greed.

“Y-yes…”

“Say my name, baby.”

“W-what?”

You're genuinely confused why would she need you to call her name—oh, maybe because she wants to know how much you love her, how much you love her stupidly-hot acts towards you. Her fingers then unbutton the first layer of your uniform swiftly and with you being so oblivious, you didn't notice how she's slowly undressing you.

“W-what do you mean, Yunjin?”

“There you go, baby~ Hmm—mwah. That's for being a good boy, hihi~”

A quick peck on the neck as she hears her name once again escaping from your lips. A quick peck as a result of her wants being attended and letting you know how much she loves this moment. You’re utterly confused but you don’t care—you want her now and no one’s stopping you from that.

“You know, baby—” Yunjin’s hands caresses your back as she feels the heat radiating upon the foreplay that’s happening, and that makes her smile genuinely. “—let’s do this somewhere private, y’know?”

A casual giggle involuntarily caused by her captivating actions escapes her lips. You know where this will be ending and you waste no time leading the way, already miles away, reading her mind.

“I'll lead you to the bathroom then, Yunjin.”

“Then do, baby~”

She then offers her hand gently as you insist on holding it slowly, leading the way to the bathroom. Once you got there, nothing held back as the unstoppable force met the immovable object—both of your lips crashing onto each other, exchanging sloppy kisses towards each other as she moaned from your aggressiveness. 

“Mmph, baby—ahh! You really, really kiss me so good~”

“Not really, you do, Yunjin.”

Yunjin blushed from your heartfelt compliment as you did feel the heat within your cheeks, painting it rosy-pink as you find the kiss so incredibly hot and passionate that you can't help yourself but let the tiger inside you to be unleashed. 

Unleash the beast, as a famous saying says (it clearly reflects what you’re feeling right now) and without containing the ferocity inside you, you unbridle it. Wasting no second, you connect your lips her onto her again, exchanging the sloppiest and the most lustful kisses imaginable and as time advances, there goes the dancing of your tongues, fighting for dominance.

“God—getting so messy with me, baby, hm?”

“Can't help that you're so fucking insatiable, Yunjin.”

She tugged onto your necktie once again as she pulled you towards her, whispering to your ear seductively as it's also enough to send tingles down your spine.

“I feel the same too, baby. You make me feel so good, it's insane~”

The adrenaline inside you is making you unstoppable right now as you can only imagine the possible fantasies of yours coming true, and you can't simply wait to do everything with Yunjin. 

Every. Single. Thing.

She's also cognizant of what will happen next, possibly and surely…

“Ahh—ahh! Baby, right there~ Yes!”

You then latch onto her neck and collarbones, suckling onto the porcelain skin of hers as it's maybe enough to mark her. Her inevitable moans came loose, her sinful releasing the long-shackled lustful cacophony of sex-filled sounds that she can't contain anymore—

“Like it, Yunjin?”

“I fucking love it, baby. I love it when you mark me like you really own me—god, yes!”

She's giving into submission and she inevitably will, slowly, and surely. That's your goal right now, and you'll show off every trick up in your sleeve just to get her into that.

A door is close, way too far and nigh-impossible to reach.

A door is slightly ajar, try to reach it, and eventually you will, then you'll open one and will open more. 

It'll be a domino effect—starting from a single one then will possibly try out everything you can think of.

The door will suddenly close, yet you'll already think of the fact that you've seized those opportunities.

And you'll start right now.

“I want more, Yunjin. Wanna see more—wanna taste more of you.”

Yunjin has that look—that slutty, desperate look of ardor in her eyes and the way it sparkles with lust and anticipation—yes, it's perfect.

“Getting daring, aren't we, baby? Ahh—keep kissing me first. Let them know how much you love it and how much you're mine, baby~ Oh fuck!”

“No, Yunjin—I want more of you, right now.”

Crazy how a sexual desire drives a man into his lowest—a deceitful strength; a vulnerable spot; his cock doing the thinking, and not his brain. Getting daring, you slowly coursed your hands onto the side of Yunjin's plaid skirt, caressing it as you slowly undress her bottom half, wanting to feel and see those meaty thighs—those thighs you've been drooling with since the start of this.

She moans loudly in response to your actions, so, to tone her down, you immediately crash your lips onto hers again—probably for the umpteenth time—as she reciprocates, now feeling her and tasting her. Your insatiability towards her is imaginable, so you immediately pull out and lay down to slowly undress her skirt as it came in, right after, is a work of art: her smooth, pristine thighs on your sight as the white panties being the cherry on top.

“God, Yunjin—your thighs are so—”

“Tasty? And probably, meaty? Yeah, I know, baby. My thighs are all for you to worship and kiss. Hmm—ahh—now, please—let them know how much you want them.”

She read you. It's probably like the first thought everyone will have in their mind once they see Yunjin's thighs—they can relate to you if they were in your shoes but luckily, you're the only one who's having her at this moment, no one else.

Here lies your needs. Onto the hunger of kissing the milky flesh in front of you, you immediately do what must be done and waste no time. Peppering her thighs with pecks in quick succession, plethora of lewd moans came right after—and it's like she's giving herself to you of her own accord.

You continue peppering and worshiping her thighs with kisses and marks and because of how you're making her feel too good, she can't help herself but hold onto your hair, scalp-deep as she needs an outlet to fight the sudden rush of pleasure. 

Her succulent flesh is way too irresistible to pull out as her moans even encourage you to go further, but you wanted to experience more things with her and kissing her thighs for a hot minute and a half is enough to fulfill one of your wants. 

“Baby kissed my thighs so good, hm? Love how delicious my thighs taste, hm? The sweat dripping out slowly and probably—hngg—m-my juices too, hihi~”

“Isn't it obvious, Yunjin? I'm fucking drooling all over these.”

She didn't need to ask honestly, her deep, captivating tone in her voice just sparks the fire within you and it just drives you crazy. It's an obvious yes as an answer to her question, and there's no hesitation in that.

“I want yours too, baby. It's unfair that you drooled all over me and I won't drool over anything about you~ Come on, baby~”

God—it's her seductive tone that really gets you riled up. You just want her whispering to your ear every damn day, teasing you and more—oh, it'll feel like a dream yet technically speaking, you're already living in that fantasy of yours.

As clever as she is, you undoubtedly know what she means by that so, positioning yourself to lean against the cubicle wall, she kneels down slowly, ready to unbuckle your defenses down to its last straw. She looks up at you seductively, her eyes glistening in need and lust as you caress her cheeks and encourage her to do more.

“Mind doing the honors for me, Yunjin?”

“Of course, baby~ You got me so fucking needy for you. I'm dying to taste this dick, baby.”

Noticing the inevitable bulge tenting onto your pants, she smirked at the sight that she made you like this and slowly undressed your bottom half how you did hers earlier. One by one, every piece of clothing is now deemed worthless as every defense is being unshackled and when it's only the last one left, she licks her mouth, getting ready for what you had in store for her.

In one swift motion, the beast inside is now unleashed from its genuinely frustrating restraints as it's rock-hard, almost hitting Yunjin in the face and already dripping with that infamous colorless liquid.

“God, w-wow… You're so big, baby~ I wonder if it can fit inside my mouth, hihi~”

Her puppy-like eyes curiously studied your length, right from your engorged head up to your swollen balls as she admired every inch of you and she leisurely stroked you which earned a moan that escaped from your mouth.

Sure, the wholeness of your dick will fit inside her tight, slutty throat. Not to mention how much she drooled all over your length once you've revealed it and by that, you could tell how much wonders she could do with it.

“Tell me, Yunjin, do you like what you're seeing?”

An unhesitant nod from her as here comes her seductive voice again—

“I do, baby—I fucking do—mwah!”

There starts the slow, passionate kiss on your already swollen head as she plays your leaking slit with her tongue, also, in accordance with the rhythm of her strokes on the base of your shaft. She kissed your mushroom-shaped head so lovingly, it caused you to moan her name alongside with ragged breaths as the sensitivity is way too much to handle.

“Moaning my name, baby? I can tell—you're loving this already, hihi~”

You nod, and that's enough as an answer to her question.

“T-Tell me, Yunjin, what do you want to do with my cock?”

She did hear you, but instead of answering you, she just doubles the efforts of kissing your length from the base up to your swollen tip. You don't like this so, you grip her hair forcefully slowly, demanding an answer escaping from her slutty, cock-hungry lips.

“I w-want to choke on it, baby.”

“And?”

“Want to gag and drool all over it, baby.”

There's definitely more—

“Want to take this cock deep down so badly that I want my throat ravaged by it.”

More—

“Want you to fuck my face with it as I struggle to breath while you do t-that to me, and then, you'll thrust your hips so hard that you're only goal is to destroy my slutty throat for my throat is only a cumdump for you, baby. Or, you can pull out and start painting my face with—”

“Stop.”

“—it…”

Fear emanates her eyes as she's flummoxed about your sudden command towards her.

“You d-didn't like it, baby?”

“No, Yunjin—” You reposition yourself comfortably and lean yourself against the wall again, preparing for what's about to come. “—I'd rather see you do those things you’ve said rather than talking. Be my guest.”

She immediately fulfills what she'd said as constant licks and slurps reverberate around the puny cubicle you're in. She drools all over your cock, worshiping it with numbers of kisses to god knows how many—she just can't get enough of the succulent taste of your shaft.

She's maybe not the most experienced one in your opinion, but surely, she's making you feel great as her plump lips makes your brain go haywire in pleasure and it’s like it’s really made of cock-sucking. Sucking on your head gently, you moan and grip her hazelnut-colored streaks, an outlet to fight the constant course of pleasure.

“God—so fucking good, Yunjin. So so so fucking good—argh! Take me all in—s-shit!”

With your inevitable groans and subsequent moans, she takes this as fuel to up the ante of her pace, bobbing her head vigorously as she takes now half of your shaft, her saliva leaking out slowly on the side of her mouth. The liquid then drips down to your balls which she averted her attention too, not leaving it unattended.

She lathers it with her saliva as she sucks on one ball gently, making sure she's not hurting you in any kind as her aim is to stimulate you further and with her moderate rhythm of her strokes and the gentle care of attending your needs onto your balls, it's impossible to hide how good you're feeling—way better than you expected.

Gently and surely, she doesn't give you a break on the constant serotonin you're feeling. Having enough of your balls, she then goes onto doing the thing she's best at as the slurping sounds resumes and so is the constant gagging that keeps resonating around your ear. Having had enough of the slow stuff, she bobs her head frantically like she has something to prove to you as she went deeper, her throat welcoming the entirety of your length as she gags again in response—her gag literally echoing around the restroom as a hint of panic hits you as someone may barge in to know what's happening, mostly those janitors. Tears inevitably begin flowing down her cheek, messing up the mascara she had on—and it's just better seeing her getting ruined slowly.

Eventually, she pulls out as oxygen is to blame, her gleeful smile meeting you as she still strokes your shaft at a snail's pace.

“You l-like that, baby? You like h-how my tight throat constricts when your head hits the back of m-my throat, hm? You like how good I made you feel?

“S-shut up, Yunjin—do more of that and less talking, okay?”

“What a tsundere… Hmm—mwah!” Yunjin peppers your swollen head with numerous kisses as she continues her dirty talk that sends your arousal higher than the sky. She didn't mind how hypocritical your response is because all that matters is that she did a great job at pleasuring you and it's evident and you can't lie with that.

“Don't you dare lie in front of your teeth, baby—I know you liked it so much. I could even hear you moaning my name repeatedly and wanting mo—”

Well, that's another way to shut her up, for now…

If your words can't shut her slutty mouth up, then maybe taking your cock once again will do. It's really effective, considering how she struggles once you thrust your hips into her throat, making her gag and hum in satisfaction. In every thrust you do, she welcomes it in her tight cavern with open arms as she grabbed your hips almost-so-tightly in order to have stability while fucking her face. The pace quickens immediately, bringing in an onslaught of thrusts in a rapid succession which she enjoyed—she's maybe struggling considering how harsh you're using her throat but you didn't care as your pleasure comes first, and she even enjoys it too. After two minutes of a hot, sloppy (the saliva seeping out of her mouth are in copious amounts) facefucking, she tapped your thigh as she's visibly lacking oxygen and immediately, you pulled out of her tightness.

She gasps for air, struggling to breathe as it almost feels like you ravaged her throat completely. She smiled towards you, coughing a little as her mouth was used like a fleshlight, most likely, a cocksleeve in her (possibly yours too) own terms. She feels like a toy whose only purpose is to pleasure his master and no one else and she absolutely loved it. 

“Oh f-fuck, baby. You used m-my throat so well, hehe~ Now, you gotta finish what you've started i-in my mouth.”

Sticking her tongue out just to invite you to fuck her face again, you fall in under the spell of lust as you insert your length inside her mouth again, and suddenly, the pleasure courses down your veins as the warmth of her throat envelops and welcomes your cock like in a warm embrace. 

You're reflecting as you fuck her mouth mercilessly. You want to save that energy for later—

“Actually, Yunjin, just finish me off. Suck me like you fucking mean it, you slut.”

And off she goes, fulfilling your desires. You could feel that familiar sensation down your loins even earlier, and it's not even that far off now as your orgasm is nearly coming.

Look down as the hazelnut-haired girl bobs onto your penis like she means it—like what you've said—and you let it all out. She feels the persistent throbs of your length inside her throat as she plunges her mouth balls deep, her nose pressing onto the base of your shaft as you fill her cavern up to the hilt and welcoming another side—using it as a canvas for you to paint on. Series of hot, thick semen deposits inside her mouth, painting her throat like you have something to prove—to prove how much she's yours, maybe, just for this moment. Spurt after spurt, she closes her eyes as she feels the incredible volume of your load and the succulent taste of it—she can already feel how much your seed tastes good as her taste buds involuntarily chase the flavor of it, like it's her favorite dessert to indulge in anytime.

After your orgasm dies out (it lasted for at least twenty-two seconds, estimated, since your brain went haywire because of the pleasure), you pull out of her mouth and see streaks of her saliva and your cum as your length becomes lathered by it. Yunjin, as the clever girl she is, cleans your cock without being commanded to do so as she licks all over it, sucking and slurping all over the conglomeration of liquids and gathering it all. For one last time, she pulls out and gathers all of the cum that she can and sticks her tongue to show you how much your load is, and then, swallowing all of it within a single gulp and then showing to you her tongue again, smooth and clean as all of your seed is now into her stomach.

“Gosh, baby. That was so fucking good. That was like, the most delicious load I had ever tasted—god, I wanted more of it.”

If she wants another one, then she needs to earn it like a good girl yet, the both of you had more plans with each other, and it feels like a magnetic connection—the both of you suddenly read each other's minds on what the both of you want.

“I want more of you, baby—like, way much more… Like, I want to feel you, baby—deep inside me.  ”

Well, here we go—

“But baby, I'll let you choose though. Consider this as your luckiest day as you'll get to feel me, hehe~ It's either you wanna fuck me senseless while you rail my tight, little cunt or—” Yunjin slowly takes off her panties, giving you an unholy sight of her holes, which made your cock twitched involuntarily—she's way too fuckable at this moment and too hot to handle. “—you could shove your entire length up in my ass and finger me until I cum uncontrollably.”

These choices are way too tempting and of course, more difficult than ever. You wanna feel her tight cunt clenching and possibly, creaming—which is probably not hard consider how wet she is right at the start—around your shaft while you fuck from behind but also, you can’t let the opportunity fade of fucking her tight asshole and fingering her pussy, all at the same time.

Well, there are also second-hand thoughts within those choices: is there any lube whenever you made your choice on fucking her ass—

“Don’t you worry, baby, I have my lube here, in my uniform pocket.”

—and is no one going to know all of the sinful events that are about to happen within the next few minutes?

“And baby, no one’s gonna know about this as you know how I can get out of things like this. My mother has power and authority in this university so you, and I, will be safe from any trouble, hihi~”

Well, that answers anything you’ve been afraid of…

“So, what is it going to be, hm, baby? Come on—” Yunjin slowly seats onto the toilet (and of course, it’s been covered since the beginning) and spreads her legs wide slowly, presenting her already dripping cunt and her puckered hole, tempting the devil inside you. “—don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Takes you several seconds before coming up to a decision that you’ll surely won’t regret.

“I’d love to fuck you from behind, Yunjin.”

“On what hole, bab—”

“Both of them, your pussy first—”

Well, she’s caught off-guard and perplexed by your sudden need and aggressiveness as you grab her wrists tightly, and then turn her facing the wall. The lust and greed already consumed you and there’s no one stopping you, not even her as you can easily overpower her without breaking a damn sweat.

“I s-said only a single option, bab—”

“No, no, no, Yunjin. That’s not how the games are going to be played—” You spank the creamy flesh in front of you as it jiggles in response, you then smirking as the downfall of Yunjin’s control ensues—herself submitting into pure submissiveness that you dearly wished to see. 

“—I’m the one who’s in fucking control now, Yunjin and don’t tell me you don’t want all of your holes stuffed with only my cock, hm?”

“N-no…”

“No what, Yunjin?”

You gently gripped her neck, choking her as you force an answer to escape from her lips. Such a demand is needed immediately, and you don’t want to be a part of Yunjin's games anymore and you want to show her what exactly you can do to her.

“G-god—I—what I m-mean is that, no—I won’t s-say anything like that b-because this—is—ahh—what I wa-wanted all along!”

“Good.”

You loosen your grip onto her neck and avert your fingers across her clit, stimulating and teasing her and not-so-surprisingly, she moans seductively as the pleasure is starting to get into her and you love seeing how she’s drowning in need—you should’ve done this in front of the restroom’s mirrors, so you can see her ahegao-like expressions that surely, will arouse you further.

“You like that, Yunjin? Like how I make you a whimpering mess on my fingers, hm? Wow, you’re drenched and so fucking wet.”

“Y-yes, baby, I like—”

“Wrong fucking word, Yunjin.”

And then, that hits her, she realizes that she can’t do anything but be the good, submissive toy for her—

“Daddy. I’m very, very sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl—you clever girl, hm?”

You tease her more and more, earning the sexiest of moans escaping out of Yunjin’s mouth as she pleads you to fuck her already but you insist, letting the carnal desires inside you be tamed, for now. You wanted to get her as wet as possible—not to mention how wet her pussy is already, nectar dripping all over her thighs and staining her socks—so you do just that.

“Really want to feel me, huh?”

Another harsh spank to her bubble butt marks it red, enough for the sting of pain to be felt until later as it echoes around the tiny cubicle. You can't wait to feel her tight walls as her desperation and pleas ignite the fuel inside you to resist the temptation and with her continuous pleas to let her out of her misery, a flick of a switch is all it takes as you take her in.

Her velvety walls hug your shaft so tight that you groan in half-pain, half-pleasure—it feels like her pussy walls constrict so hard that its life probably depends on it. With how wet she is, it isn't any hard thrusting in and formulating a pleasurable pace as you form a moderate rhythm from time to time. Her moans were just inevitable too, alongside her chants that were probably part of the symphony of a lewd orchestration of sounds. 

“Fuck me h-harder, daddy! I want it rough s-so what are you waiting f—”

A slap on her butt probably lets her know how you're now in control, and not her yet you think to yourself that you need to destroy her cunt to teach her a lesson. A mere adequate attempt from her for you to play rough with her almost sends you into overdrive as she lures you into the deepest abyss of lust. Even if you deemed her attempts futile and ineffective, you're just saying to yourself how hypocritical you are.

You wanted to ruin the beautiful image of Huh Yunjin, letting everybody probably know how much of a slut she is for cock—

“Don't you fucking worry, Yunjin—I'll pound you so hard and fast that the only thing you'll feel is my cock ravaging your tight, little hole and nothing else. Heck yeah, I would maybe even make you forget your own name and the last thing you'll actually do is beg for my mercy while you can't take it anymore—because I'm going to fucking ruin you, Huh Yunjin, the school's slut.”

Letting out the profanities and the devil inside you, you work your way into making her for you to ultimately use. You waste no times in build-ups as you pound her tight cunt like you're proving something to her—proving how worthy you are to probably own her pussy and how good you'll fuck her throughout this session.

You ram into her hard and fast, letting your animalistic urges take over your body as you didn't stop even a slight second. The clashing of both of your bodies becomes so frequent that sweat is beginning to form onto your forehead and to your back, considering how hard you're fucking her brains out like you're rearranging her guts.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy! You're so deep in me! Keep f-fucking me until you make me a creamy mess! Oh fuck, daddy~”

She moans uncontrollably with every thrust you do into her and she tries to silence it by biting the clothing of her uniform but it wasn't enough. And it's like she can conceal how much of a slut she is for your cock—and there's nothing she can do either. 

She clings onto anywhere she can just to have a greater grip on what's ravaging her pussy. Another attempt of silencing her moans is futile, so you grab her locks, pulling it slowly onto you to let everybody know who she really is.

“You l-like how I fuck your pussy like this, hm, Yunjin? I bet no one fucked this good in your entire life. Let the whole university know how much of a fucking—slut—you are!”

She responds in guttural groans and lustful moans as you drive her insane with your cock—her mind only being flooded about sex, and maybe that only.

“Oh god—daddy, I'm so close! Please let Yunjin cum, please let me cum—cum, cum—I'm cumming!!”

A spank delivered to her backside by your naughty hands is the indication of—

“Then cum, Yunjin—all over… my cock…”

“Gah—ahh!!”

And there she goes, letting everything out as her visceral moans broke the tow, and off she goes, creaming all over your throbbing length like a broken faucet out of control. You want her to take a little breather, so you slow down your thrusts while riding her beautiful orgasm out that lasts for almost a hot minute (roughly like thirty-five seconds but that'll do).

“Now, it's your turn, daddy, hihi~ Cum inside me, please!”

You resume your frantic thrusts and ignore her wants of filling her pussy, aiming to achieve your high too and chasing it as fast as possible.

You definitely want to finish inside her tight, little cunt but a sudden hit of reflection made you think of another option (and also by the fact that a slut like her wants to be bred and you don't want to finish inside her while she's not safe).

She's too spoiled, anyways. With that possible privilege, now is the time to break the tow and maybe, you'll be the first to do it.

“No, Yunjin—” You whisper onto her ears and immediately, and even so, painfully pull out of her pussy as she wails, wanting you to fuck her hole until you ride out your high but you have other ways on settling this mess. “—I'm going to fuck your creamy thighs until I cum, okay? Now, it's up to you to catch all the cum with your hands to taste it or let it go down in waste as I paint the cubicle walls white.”

She definitely wants that idea, for sure. You can sense it even though you can't really see the emotions on her face—she's way too readable now, and there's nothing she can do to let her wants be attended to, either.  

“Daddy's going to fuck these meaty thighs until I cum, okay, Yunjin?”

“Yes, daddy! Please do fuck my thighs—you're still going to fuck me from b-behind, daddy?”

“Yes, Yunjin, and I hope you're prepared.”

She's even more than prepared as you position your throbbing length between her thighs, she then anticipating what's coming next. Her thighs suffocate your cock for dear life and thanks to her wetness dripping down the meaty flesh and also the wetness of your cock due to her own fluids, it wasn't difficult to thrust and hammer between her immaculately perfect thighs.

Thrust after thrust comes moans and groans from you as she hugs your entire shaft tighter than ever, making sure you'll get the utmost pleasure you'll ever desire. Not so long, you're now starting to develop your pace frantically as your hips go wild as the lust drives you into oblivion—the will of greed powering every thrust to chase your nearly-impeded orgasm earlier.

Of course, the inevitable comes closer than you expected.

“I'm so close, Yunjin—fuck! I wanna just fuck these thighs all day. Argh, so fucking close—I'm going to fucking cum!”

“Cum for me, daddy, please!”

It feels like another dormant volcano erupts, sending magnitudes of pleasure all over your body as peak euphoria is achieved within an exhilarating act. Multiple streaks of semen splutters from your slit—probably up to four, if you can count it right—as Yunjin tries to catch it all but all she can do is cling onto the walls . She is unsuccessful in catching the wholeness of your load but manages to capture a little and with her hunger for your taste, she licks the little amount clean on her fingers, humming soundly as she's satisfied to taste your load again.

“Never fails to amaze me, daddy. So delicious, as expected, hihi~”

She then strokes you slowly, not wanting your hardness to die fast as there's more things to do with her. She knows how painful and sensitive you feel right now and her dainty fingers and dexterity of it aims to get you hard (even though you're definitely rock-hard towards her, still) for her as the last course on the menu is nearing. At least she's a bit concerned about what you want to feel, and also concerned with her own pleasure too. 

“Now, daddy—” Yunjin faces you as both your eyes make contact with each other, sparkling with anticipation and greed. She then made the first move as she thought of something that has been lingering inside her mind since you started fucking her almost senseless. “—you said something earlier about fucking my ass and I was thinking that, maybe, you can fuck me while I see your face, daddy. Don't you love the thought of it?”

Of course you do love it and she doesn't need to ask that. You love how lewd her expressions are—even though you can't see it but deep in your heart you know that her face does those expressions inevitably—while you fuck her like it's your last and the pleasure converting her face into pure submissiveness and lust. Also, to top it all off, you want to do something that for sure, will make this experience more than memorable, written down in the history books of your life.

“Of course I do, Yunjin. I'll hammer your ass hard like what I did to your pussy—I'll gape this tight, little asshole so hard that you'll walk out here wobbly and struggling.”

“Then you'll need to carry me out here, daddy. Fuck me until my legs give out—give me everything you got, daddy.”

The sensitivity fades faster than the speed of light as Yunjin's dirty talk reignites the fuel of lust inside you. Handing you the small bottle of lube in her pocket, you lather a decent amount on your hand and spread it onto your cock. You then command her to bend over in order to have a greater grip in spreading the lube around the rim, and the tight walls of her asshole. She lets out a ragged breath and a moan as the cold liquid comes into contact onto her puckered hole. You continue lathering her asshole with lube and warming her up until she breaks the silence.

“Daddy, I h-have something to confess to you…”

“What is it, Yunjin?”

It takes her several seconds to respond as the pleasure of teasing her asshole with your fingers is getting over the limit of her nerves to handle—it's maybe too much to handle but she never insists you to stop and you won't.

“My ass, hasn't been fucked, yet—and y-you're probably going to be the first one who will open me up in my other h-hole…”

A bold confession to a girl like her is a bit surprising as it feels like she already experienced a lot more than what you could imagine but that expectation falters once it's factual that she still has her anal virginity—you can hear the sincerity in her voice.

“B-But you've experienced this before, Yunjin? Like with your toys and stuff?”

A hint of sweat drips down your forehead as you're a little bit nervous considering that maybe, it is really her first time experiencing a phallic object will be taken up in her ass.

Even though you're driven mad with lust, there's still heart in you and concern came first.

“Yeah… Only a couple of times with a dildo but it never really felt the same but now—” Yunjin holds both sides of your arms as her eyes ignite with seriousness, wanting you to fulfill her needs by feeling your length up in her ass for the first time.

One thing's for sure before you make a move: she'll be tighter than ever, and even may rival the tightness of the gripping walls of her pussy.

Knowing how well-lubed up her rim and your already throbbing length are, you waste no time and impale Yunjin's incredibly tight asshole with your rod. Even with just the mushroom-shaped tip inside her inviting hole, you can't fathom how incredibly tight she is. She eases up her muscles for both of your comfort and slowly, and surely, you insert your length into her deeper and deeper, the lubrication really helping out a lot.

“It s-still feels a bit weird—but anyways, fuck me daddy! I c-can take it!”

“Really, Yunjin? You sure?”

A broken melody escapes her lips and interrupts her moans, “Yes, daddy—please just fuck my ass… I c-can take it.”

And who are you to refuse that? No, you won't and now having a better grip of her ass—and thanks to her anal muscles easing up and helping you fight against the incredible vacuum-like tightness—you start thrusting into her, slowly and delicately, cherish every second of fucking her incredible ass. You spank her buttocks hard as a moan from hers is the response, the moan of need and lust as she smiles almost maniacally at you, feeling euphoric from the experience. 

As much as you want to see her get fucked with her uniform still on—because it's one of your fetishes—you want to see what she's packing underneath that white blouse of hers. You then immediately latch your hands on the buttons of her uniform, undressing it slowly and thankfully, Yunjin doesn't care and wants to get herself naked for you, letting you see what she has in store for you and you're probably going to drool with the sight of that.

Like a prophet, you did predict your own actions almost accurately as undressing her final defense, which is her white-laced bra. With her sheepish expressions maybe because of your possible disappointed judgment, you reassure her as you are met with a perky set of her mounds with taut pink nipples that you're ready to drool over with.

“Sorry if it's not too—”

“You're not sorry, Yunjin—” You up the ante of your pace of hammering her ass as you fondle the soft, pillowy flesh in front of you, making her moan in ecstasy as everything seems going perfect for her. 

“—in fact, I love it so much—mwah—wanna suck on these all night, not gonna lie—fuck, you're incredibly hot, Yunjin.”

“Gah—ahh! Daddy! T-thank you for that. You make m-me feel so good—so, so good, daddy!”

With your frantic pace of thrusts inside her tight hole, you can't help but moan soundly as it feels way too euphoric to be true. Latching your tongue lightly onto her erect bud, she moans in delight, and it is so hot that it keeps you going. You also want to stimulate her so much that you want the dam inside her to break, and considering how she's been touching herself since the start of your anal session, she'll get on her euphoric high in no time.

“Gah—daddy, I'm going to fucking cum! So, so much—all over you, daddy!”

Announcing the nearing peak of her orgasm, you fuck her gaped hole like an animal in intense need, letting the lust and your ultimate will inside you power your hips to do the fastest, most uncontrollable thrusts known to man. Your urge to destroy her asshole and her asshole only is indomitable as the devil inside takes over you, plowing her ass like it's your last. 

You're close and she knows it well considering how much you're throbbing inside her. She knows this and that's why she helps you chase your own orgasm too and hers, wanting to cum with you in unison.

“I'm close too, Yunjin—I'm going to fucking cum balls deep inside this incredible ass of yours—I'm going to fucking cum!”

“Me too, daddy—cum with me, please!”

And there goes everything.

The rush of adrenaline through your veins soon comes to an end and so do your thrusts. You buried down your entire length inside her walls, filling her up to the hilt and the goal has now been achieved: filling her absolutely with thick shots of semen, painting her insides white.

It is euphoric rearranging her guts to the fullest. Groan after groan comes spurts of your load being deposited inside her ass as her moans encourage you for more and so you do. Yunjin herself reaches her high as she sprays her nectar all over your toned abdomen as she comes harder than earlier, leaving her breathless and enervated from the wildest session she had been. After your orgasm has died out, you then slowly pull out of her—and she's still oh-so-tight even though she has been gaped like crazy with your actions—to see what you've done—to see what you've become: a monster, blinded by lust as every drip of white leaks out slowly, out of her asshole. She then reaches for her metallic buttplug and inserts it inside her puckered hole slowly as she doesn't want the cum dripping out of her thighs after she walks out of here—she's still in public, so that makes sense and she doesn't want to get embarrassed.

You filled her well. Too well. She's going to feel that load until later.

Not wanting the moment to die so fast, you initiate another heated kiss with her again as she immediately reciprocates, letting her know how much you loved this moment and how you'll cherish this, forever.

“God, daddy—you still filled me up so well… I'm also sure, you're completely drained, right?”

“Yeah, Yunjin… *coos* I'm way too drained—thanks for this, though. It felt very euphoric—and good. Thank you…”

“No, baby—I need to thank you. You made me feel like this and I never felt this before—like, this felt enchanting, meeting you…”

You faintly smile and face her, blushing from her remarks. You then kiss each other for the last time, wanting to savor the built-up need and lust for this one moment, once more. With a little panic making your heart skip a beat, you then help her prepare herself and yourself, cleaning what you also could so no one will suspect all of the sinful events that happened inside this cubicle.

“I could barely feel my legs though, baby...”

“Oh no—will you get in trouble for that, Yunjin?”

“You'll need to carry me out if here, baby—that's what it means, hihi~”

Panic courses through you as you're shocked on what she said, not prepared on what she's really planning.

“I'm kidding, baby—I can still walk though. I'll just make up an excuse that my feet just feels painful suddenly. Neither of us will get in trouble, don't worry.”

You then slowly unlock the cubicle door, making it “vacant” and then, open it. Yunjin kisses your cheek one more time as a token of gratitude before smiling at you genuinely, her eyes speaking words of being thankful for such an incredibly euphoric session.

“Oh! Before I leave—give me your phone, baby.”

“I d-don't have it on me, right now…”

You know where this is going and you don't want this opportunity to fade away. You frown in disbelief of your phone being nowhere near you as it's on your locker yet with a clever mind like her, she opts for another option, also, not wasting this opportunity.

“Do you… have a ballpen though? Like... any kind?”

That, you do. 

Without any time to waste, you give her your black ballpoint pen as she grabs your hand gently, going to use it as the canvas.

“Hope you don't mind this, baby and… there you go! That's mine, okay? Text me when you get home, okay? I'll be gone for now and… thank you, again—so, so much, baby. You may leave after me for like—uhm… a few minutes so no one will suspect what we did here, baby, hehe~”

And you're now captivated with her. Who are you to blame though? A girl like her will make any other men go crazy but in this moment, she's the only one you see and so she is. You loved this moment and so she did too, and that concludes another exhilarating yet memorable day for you.

You seized every opportunity you had with her at that given moment, and you're glad that you've opened them all up.

“Bye, baby, see you tomorrow—or… maybe later, hihi~”

What a day written into your own history books. It truly is and you wanted more…

[stereax]

spill the controversial deeply-held opinion(s)?

every time someone makes fun of a hockey player's name, an angel loses its wings.

very often, I want to say the strong majority of the time, when I see posts like "this player can't be real with a name like that" or "that's not a real name", the name in question is simply Not Anglo-American. just pulling from memory, people are saying names like Zeev Buium (name origin: Hebrew), Arber Xhekaj (name origin: Albanian/Kosovar), Zemgus Girgensons (name origin: Latvian), Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen (name origin: Finnish), and Ivan Miroshnichenko (name origin: Russian) are "fake" names, "NPC" names, or "Japanese baseball" names (after the infamous "Fighting Baseball" game where a dev had to make up a bunch of fake names on the spot). I hope I don't need to point out how this is often xenophobic. I don't think most people are actively aware that they're perpetuating xenophobic thinking when they do this, they just go haha name funny, but ultimately this can be deeply xenophobic.

maybe I see it differently than others - but I'm half-Polish, and as long as I can remember, my Polish family and friends' names have been butchered by (usually) English-speaking Americans, often with snide comments on the side about "are you sure this is your name?" and "this is spelled correctly?" to really rub it in. often enough, this ends with the Pole anglicizing their own name so it "doesn't cause any more problems" - Katarzyna becomes Kate, Grzegorz becomes Greg, Mariusz becomes Mark, Zuzanna becomes Sue. god forbid you have a name like Czesława or Bogdan, where you'll either go by a name like Jessie or Danny (which aren't at all related to the original name) or just get mispronounced forever. oh, and by the way, if you've noticed, almost all of these names turn into diminutives. I'll leave you to think about why.

you probably don't know who Teodors Bļugers is. that's because he anglicized his name to Teddy Blueger so it wouldn't cause problems for announcers. on the Cup, his name is spelled Teddy Blueger, not Teodors Bļugers.

...even when the name is "normal" (think Jason Robertson, Robert Thomas, Jake Bean, Will Smith), making fun of it is a dick move. you're essentially telling someone that their name isn't real - that a core part of their identity must be fabricated because it "sounds funny" to you. and yes, the fourth wall exists and hockey players won't (or at least shouldn't) be on tumblr reading your posts, but people who are from these cultures or have similar names likely will be. and it's they who are being told, because your name does not fit our criteria, it is not a real name. (plus, while tumblr is relatively safe from fourth-wall breaches, other social media such as twitter is infamous for having hockey player burners on them. if Patrik Laine can find and like posts calling him a bust, you best believe players can find and read your opinions online.)

does that make sense?

[tinydefector]

Ok ok i thought about this and for me it's sounds funny.

Sooo on the comic where everyone just found out that Rung is god you know where Rodimus, Rachet, Whirl and Tyrest and others having existing crisis and the part where Whirl said "God was my therapist" and then I thought about it, how funny it would be if cybertronian or human MC/reader said something like "I was fuck by said God" like if said cybertronian/human was in relationship with Rung and everyone reaction (plus Tyrest too since I think he's a god fanatic) 😂😂😂😂

XD omg so I had a bit of a joke piece about fucking God over in this fic. But it gets even better that thought of Tyrest being a God fanatic and hating Organics. The horror when he finds out Primus is with a human, watch this mech just break down.

Everyone's optics and eyes are on Rung, and the mech stands there wishing attention wasn't on him. Rodimus paces back and forth, Ratchet just stares off into a wall wish above all he wasn't here right now. Whirl, for the first time, is so quiet that it makes everyone so uncomfortable. And then there was the human just looking up at Rung in shock, dismay? They really didn't know how they felt in that moment.

Rodimus finally speaks. "OK, ok, but how the Frag!, Your Primus! All this time, you have just been what? Hiding on cybertron, having a vacation!" He asked. He was bitter about this, as much as he wanted to blame Rung for everything, cybertron falling apart, his home, and the matrix in truth it wasn't his fault. After all wasn't he doing the exact same thing, running away because he didn't want to be a prime, he wasn't suited for it, he didn't want to live in Optimus' shadow and have that shame over him. He'd take being co captain with Megatron over having to be in Optimus' shadow any cycle.

Ratchet, on the other hand, just wants a strong drink. He had never been a believe in gods, yet here he was finding out the the mech who had been the Lost Light's therapist, had been a neutral throughout the war, had a space ship collection older then some mechs was Primus. It was just his luck. "Does anyone else know?" He asked, trying to be the level-headed one of the group.

Rung removes his glasses, and the stress and exhaustion are very visible on his faceplate. "Drift, I believe, he's, he's always suspected something," Rung explains. He wasn't sure, but he's rather sure that Drift knows what he is.

Whirl finally laughs. "This is Fragged. How in the Pit did I end up this fragging, unlucky that my slagging therapist is Fragging Primus!" They shout, they don't know if they are angry, hurt or just overwhelmed, so much had been fried in their circuitry after the Emputra but this, this felt like a sick joke. All the things he had told Rung now feel like they were confessions.

Tyrest is baffled. He doesn't know whether to fall to his knees or call blasphemy, but the evidence is right there in front of his optics.

Rung is sheepish as he looks to the human. He's hoping they don't hate him. "I know this is alot for you all to take in, I'm sorry you all had to find out this way, I'm sincerely sorry for everything that has happened" He calls out to the group. He goes to continue only to be cut off.

"Fuck my life, Swerve is never going to let me live this down" the human stammers out. Everyone's optics are on them, a flush tints Rungs plating. "Please we don't need to bring that-" He's cut off again.

"The fact that I've unknowingly been getting Railed by Primus!" They exclaim only for Rung to hide behind one of his servos as multiple mech's Jaws drop at those words.

"HAH, and i thought I was Fragged!" Whirl screeched, finding humour in the situation. The other mechs look just as shocked and disgusted. "No, I refuse. That's blasphemy. Please tell me you haven't been interfacing with an organic!" Tyrest almost pleaded, hoping by the all spark that it wasn't true.

Rodimus pinches his brow ridge. He could feel his processor hurting from all this information. "Slagging Pit," he grumbles. " I Owe Sunstreaker so much Shainx now," he huffs. "OK, ok. Rung's Primus, and he's fragging a human." He throws his servos up in the air, being overly dramatic.

Ratchet just glares at the two. "They both of you are to report to medical for an examination after this, You" he points right at Rung. " I have some rather choice words for you," he states before stalking off, leaving.

The human looks at the floor, and the true panic is taking over. "Oh fuck, I've been fucking an Alien God who's also my therapist" they mutter to themself, tears starting to well up in their eyes and Rung kneels down cupping their face and wiping the tears away. "I didn't mean to upset you," he says softly. Optics focused on them. " I don't want this to change anything between us. You mean a great deal to me, and I don't want to lose you," he murmurs to them, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

The sound of the others arguing and fighting drowns out as Rung focuses on his little lover. "I'm not angry, Rung, Primus, or whatever name you want to go by, but... but I'm a human, a random fucking human so why me. Why me? " they nearly sob as he scoops them up, pulling them against his frame.

"My dear, I'm the the holy being everyone believes I am, I'm just a very old mech, who did what he could to stop something bad from happening, alot fo the tales told are very twisted stories. I'm just a mech, I'm not some holy being. And as for why you. You were the first person to remember my name, you took an interest in my hobbies, I would have happily faded into dust unknown but you choose me" he coos softly. Digits tracing their cheeks as he looks at them in pure love.

"But an Organic!" Tyrest hisses out as he watches how sweet and tender Rung is with the human. Is Rodimus who speaks up next. "Ah ah, remember each time to talk badly about organic races you lose Shanix which goes right into my account!~" Rodimus sings out, trying to make light of the situation for his own mental stability.

"You two are fragged and Slag, and I thought I had issues!" Whirl huffs before pointing at Rung. "Not a word about our therapy session to anyone, God or not, I will end you." Whirl nearly snarls before transforming and taking off.

"But you are Primus! You could have your choice of any cybertronian, pillars in your name cities, why have you hidden for so long!" Tyrest utters, he wants to be angry, but at the same time, this was Primus. How could he.

Rung meets his optics. "Because that's not the type of mech I am, I did what I had to to stop Unicron, I got sick of people trying to put me on a pedestal, I wanted to live, live my life, to enjoy hobbies, travel, I gave up my old frame for the ability to live" he states. He wouldn't change his choices even if he had the ability to. He was content.

________

MC: "Swerve get me a strong drink!"

Swerve: "heya what got you so rilled up, partner problems? Give me all the juicy details."

MC: staring him dead in the optics. "Swerve, Rung is Primus"

Swerve: "Well, I wouldn't call him that, I mean, he must be a good frag but doubt that"

MC: "No Swerve, Rung is Primus, I've been fucking your God, why me, how did I get to this point"

Swerve: "you know what let me get you a double"

--

Rung: "this is a mess, I need to get myself a Therapist"

Swerve: "well doc tell me all your woos, I'm the closest your gonna get for therapy"

Rung: " ships having a meltdown over my past and the fact I'm with a human"

Swerve: " eh, heard worse, your squishy things your Primus"

Rung: " yes, well that's also part of the issue"

---

Whirl: "soo.... Rung huh?"

Mc: "Please, I don't want to talk about it"

Whirl: "What part, the part where you're fragging the ships Therapist or the part where your Fragging Primus."

MC: "Oh my fucking God Whirl!"

Whirl: "Ah, ah, your fucking my God not the other way round!"

---

MC: "fuck you Tyrest, you owe Rodimus more money now, from being a Xenophobe."

Tyrest: "Like, I would ever let you within five meters of my frame you disgusting little creatin. Your insults mean nothing to me. Filthy little flesh thing"

MC: " just remember it's your Beloved Primus who's fragging me!, yea!, your beloved God prefers fragging me!"

Tyrest: *the most horrified noise ever* " You take the Blastphamy Back!"

__________

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[ghostedgrim]

She's All That .pt.2

MDNI!!

Pt.1. Pt.2.sfw version. Request page. Masterlist

Warnings⚠️:Jealousy, (i recently finished a 700 page dark fantasy book, so that kinda effected my writing) fighting, a graphic fighting scene, injuries, death, fluff, smut written by a virgin 🧚‍♀️ ✨️

The sounds of grunts, and fists connecting with leather echoes through the room as I hit the punching bag over, and over. It's been a month, I haven't talked to James once, nor have I talked to y/n either. No matter how hard I try, I can spot her from across the room, yet she ignores me so easily. Now that I've dated her, every guy around seems to finally notice she exists and they all want a damn piece of her.

"Eric!" I turn around to see Max approaching, my shirt and jacket in his hand. I back away from the bag, and wipe some of my sweat off my face with my hand towel. "Why weren't you at the meeting this afternoon?"

I hold back a groan and turn to Max, "I highly doubt I would've had any important input on how to handle rowdy Factionless when I only handle the affairs inside Dauntless, and our alliance with Erudite."

"Eric, I don't know what has gotten into you, but if you miss another damn meeting, or get to work late again you'll be kissing your position as a Dauntless leader goodbye and living with the Factionless." Max's tone is firm leaving no room for argument or question of a bluff. Fuck.

"My apologies sir, I'll get my act together. I will see you at Erudite tonight." Max fists my shirt and jacket tighter in his hand and punches them into my chest.

"Good, cause you're on very thin ice and summer is fast approaching." I grab my clothes before he can drop them, and watched with a cold glare as he left. I drop my clothes back onto the chair I initially set them on and resumed punching the bag. The bruises decorating my body, curtesy of Four, hurt like Hell, and I revel in it.

Kai, green hair, snakebite peircings, no tattoos, and ironically he's a tattoo artist. I swear he took the job simply because he's a damn coward. I don't understand what y/n sees in him, and yet somehow she chooses to date him of all people. Kai is docile, timid, and to be honest if it weren't for the fact he killed three people during initiation this year you'd think he'd belong in Amity.

Jealousy is a poison that I fall victim to every time, and watching her fawn over him makes my blood fucking boil. Kai killed three initiates so he wouldn't get kicked out of initiation. He was a weak coward, but something about him screams danger. Throughout the time I had taught him he was a predator, doing what's needed to survive while dressed in sheep's clothing. Ironically enough he also takes up the job of defending snipers. I have no doubt he took the job because he's almost never called out onto the field, and people in that position could go their whole lives without once getting in a fight with enemies.

It's stupid because here I am, in the middle of an important meeting and all I can focus on was the image of her grinding against Kai on the dance floor. It should've been me, not that creep. Just from imagining it I have to subtly adjust my pants. God I would love to just toss Kai over the chasm and-"

"Eric." Max's tense tone finally breaks me free of my thoughts. "How do you think we should handle the situation."

I pause. What situation? This meeting... it was about Factionless starting to get too rowdy or whatever. "Which part of the situation? The Factionless are acting out, what are the believed causes, how much risk are the Abnegation who help them are in? The Factionless are bigger than all of our factions combined." Good enough save... I hope.

Max rolls his eyes. Shit.

"So far it's only a small group," I look up at Maverick as he speaks, "and we're yet to see them attack the Abnegation. All the Factionless have done so far is raid five Amity trucks, with only two Amity injured so far. There does appear to be someone organizing their attacks. Kevin Atos, Divergent, and has been evading our capture for the past few months since the Choosing Ceremony." Maverick runs a tattooed hand through his firey hair, then looks back through the documents.

"How do we know it's Kevin? Is he taking part in the raids, do we see him at any points in the raid?"

Jade then scowls at me accusingly, her blue eyes like bullets. She flips her black hair off her shoulder, "Are you implying Kevin is innocent?"

I grimace, "Hardly, I'm simply asking for how we know he takes part in these raids. More specificly, will we need to draw him out. We have seven extremely skilled snipers, meaning we finally have an opportunity to take him out. Without a leader the raiders will temporarily be distraut. That's when a special ops team swoops in and captures everyone who took part in the raids. From there we interrogate, and capture all the Factionless who aided the raiders. Then-"

"Whose to say the entirety of the Factionless don't join up in arms and rebel as a whole. Those raiders could become martyrs," Jade interrupts.

I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles. "Well maybe if you didn't interrupt I could get to that. Yes we will execute all the Factionless we deemed guilty. However, those raiders had weapons, and sure they could've scavanged them, but it's extremely possible a Dauntless member could be helping them."

Jeanine finally speaks up, "If you find someone guilty we could then hack the records, make everyone who researches the situation think the traitor is divergent."

Max nods in agreement with the Erudite leader, "It's very likely the traitor is Divergent anyway. And if we don't find anyone guilty, we'll just find someone suspected of being Divergent, Erudite will alter the evidence."

While useful to our cause, framing someone of Divergentence, especially if they're 100% innocent, put a foul taste in my mouth. "What if someone from Erudite also helped coordinate the attacks, or help the raiders get weapons. Kevin came from Amity. He may be smart, but not that smart. Either way, we hunt down everyone who was involved, we'll check each faction if we have to, there must be at least one faction traitor, wether we make up one or not. The Factionless will learn their place, and they won't question our authority or justice." The other Dauntless leaders, Maverick, Jade, Max, Mira all pitch in bouncing ideas around. In the end they settle on my plan.

"Y/n, we need to talk." She turns to me with a hard glare, the squad she's training look absolutely exhausted. Ever since we broke up she been training her squads thrice as hard, especially James.

"If you've come to apologize again I'm not listening."

"It has nothing to do with that."

She turns to the five squads infront of her and orders them to hold a plank position until she returns. Absolutely evil, hot though.

We walk out into a more secluded area. "Talk." She commands.

"Factionless have been raiding Amity trucks, we need a skilled sniper to kill their leader."

"At ease!" She shouts towards the gym and I cam hear groans of relief from within. "It'll be nice to get out of the facility. When?"

"Four days from now. I'll be leading the attack, you'll be positioned in a skyscraper overlooking the Amity route where the attacks happen, we'll have a second sniper positioned further down the street near the corner just in case. The second you shoot Kevin Atos me and my men will dive in to apprehend the raiders, disable anyone who tried to run and any vehicles they try to use."

She crosses her arms, she's tense and i can tell by the steel gaze in her beautiful eyes I'm the reason. "Whose assigned as my guardian?"

The name tastes like bile and sulfur in my mouth, "Kai. That's all you need to know for now. Training will be in the southern gym, floor 02, at 0400. You're dismissed."

She turns, sharp and quick, her braid almost smacks my face. I try to turn away, to walk back to my office but I can't. I watch with absolute admiration as this powerful, amazingly smart woman walks away from me. For some reason it hurts, and a part of me that I have long tried and failed wants to pull her into my arms, to finally kiss her, and hold onto her and never let go.

I'm the first person in the gym the next morning. I wear only black sweatpants, no shirt or tank top. I take my time preparing the map, equipment, and warming myself up. Y/n is the first to arrive, soon followed by the three squads I had chosen for this mission. Her eyes drop to the fresh ink peeking over my waistband on my hip and I smirk. As much as I'd love to tease my ex, I have more pressing matters to focus on.

"Everyone at attention please! I will go over this plan only three times followed by four hours of training! Afterwards I'll quiz each of you on the plan and anyone who gets it wrong will stay an extra hour to clean this gym!" I point at the map set up on the board beside me. "Mrs. Dove our first sniper will be located of the 13th floor of this building here. Mr. Rivers," I point at Kai, "you are assigned as her guardian. She dies, you better be dead too. Mr. Bown you will be located on the 15th floor of this building here," I point at the building on the corner of the street. My lecture continues for another fifteen minutes before I finally assign everyone to their respective workouts.

Kai pales as I step onto his mat. "If you're gonna be a guardian you have to be prepared for hand-to-hand combat. Sure, you were decent during initiation but I haven't seen you fight since. Knock me down and I'll let you leave."

The only image better than my fist kissing Kai's jaw was the image of my beloved dagger asleep in my arms while wrapped in my hoodie. I must give the boy credit, he can take a punch, however he isn't very good at giving them. I'm grounded where I stand while Kai is light and moves around, he favors deceit in his attacks then hitting anywhere that's soft and sensitive. But that means nothing when you're hitting stone. Kai may land a few hits but I've barely moved. Jaw, gut, waist, back of the knees, this idiot barely knows how to fucking block!

I sweep Kai onto his ass yet again. "You're going to get her killed! Do you realize just how fucking pathetic you are! If trouble comes your way and you fail to protect her I will take sweet joy in killing you slowly," I seethe.

It was like something flipped in Kai, one moment he's a doe and the next a rabid dog. Kai movies faster than earlier but his movements are feral. A punch to my throat and I choke. His hands wrap around the crown of his skull and my face kisses his knee. I'm shoved to the floor. Punch after punch this kid doesn't stop.

I barely process someone pulling him off me.

"Eric!" It's muffled like I'm underwater.

I wrapped in someone's arms- no, not just a someone. My dagger, she looks like an angel. I don't dare speak because I'll say something stupid so I force my gaze away from her. Kai lays sprawled out, face first, on the mat.

"Eric!"

"M' fine... I'm fine. Just give me a damn second." I hate to see her look so worried, but the twisted part of me is happy to see her worried, to see that she cares. "Everyone out!"

Two burly men drag Kai out by his arms.

"What the hell do you see in that boy," I spit.

"Boy? He's only a year younger than us. And what I see in him is someone who won't treat my emotions like a damn joke."

"I already told you, it was never a joke to me, not after our first date. I fell for you, hard, and my love for you was genuine."

"You say that over and over, but it doesn't change the fact you initially asked me out as a joke. I don't care how many times you ask for forgiveness I won't-"

"I never asked for your forgiveness! Yes I apologized but I never asked for your forgiveness because I am unworthy of it. I hurt you and I own that, what I did to you was wrong and I own that, but not with pride, never with pride. You were innocent and undeserving of that cruelty, that is why I don't deserve your forgiveness." I look up at her, still slumped in her arms and oh how desperately I want to curl her hair behind her ear and kiss away the bruise on her cheek.

"You need to leave Kai."

"Eric." She purses her lips.

"No, listen. That boy is trouble. He is not the sweet boyfriend you think he is. Kai is like a wild dog, give him a treat and he'll roll over, put him in danger he'll leave you to die, threaten him and he-"

She drops me, the back of my head smacks the floor and my ears ring. "Jealous dickbag." One swift kick to my groin and I gag.

"That's fair I guess."

To my suprise y/n actually helps me to the medical wing, only to leave right as a nurse walked out to greet us.

For the remaining days of training I assigned Damien, a very buff and intimidating man to handle Kai's training while I walked the squads through our routines over and over till it was muscle memory.

Finally the day came. Breakfast before missions like this are always strangely quiet, and when looking out my windows the world looks unsettlingly calm. I grab my jacket, it still smells of her perfume. I've refused to wear it since we broke up in fear the scent would go away, but today I will wear it.

It's days like these that you need to take a moment to remember your mortality. So I take my time lacing my boots, and I give Muffin, my cat, a good scratch behind her ear before making my way to the ramp.

Everyone is already armed and in gear as I approached. The two snipers and their guardians aren't here for they left late in the night to sneak into their respective positions.

After a quick review of the plan we march out. We move on foot, silent and hidden by the long shadows cast by the rising sun.

I'm coiled tight, counting every second that ticks by.

It's a haunting sight, watching the Amity transport roll down the street. They don't sing like they always do, they know they're about to be attacked. I frown as inevitably the Factionless run out, they shoot the driver in his arm and the two Amity accompanying her drag her out and dash into a nearby building.

BANG!!!

My men and I rush out, the Factionless scream out orders, both trying to help Kevin, and escape. It's utter chaos, bullets fly past, innocent bystanders are running away and towards us in search of safety.

The medical team are split in three, two men aid the Amity, three men haul Kevin, whose screaming and cluching his wounded thigh, over to the group of bound Factionless, and the rest are spread out to help fallen soldiers.

I grunt as a bullet grazes my right bicep. I dive behind a pillar within a building and peeked to find my attacker. Instead I see a group of Factionless running up the stairs of the building y/n is in. "Shit."

"Carlos, how's the situation out there!"

Static buzzes in my ear right before he replies. "We've captured fifteen Factionless raiders, eight more are on the run with two of our squads hot on their tails. Daton and y/n have already adjusted their positions to help shoot them down!"

"Good, take command of the situation out here, I just saw a group run into y/n's building and I'm going in to intercept!"

I don't wait for a response as I charge in. I bound each step two at a time, multiple times I've already tried reaching y/n and Kai through their comms but all I get is static. Someone between y/n's message to Conor, and me running into the building someone scrambled the comms.

He doesn't see me, but I see him, that tuff of green hair making him stand out like a highlighter as he crawls to hide behind an old desk, the crazy bitch stabs his own leg too. If I had the time I would shoot Kai for running away and abandoning y/n, especially because he's faking injuries so everyone thinks him innocent.

Please don't be dead, please don't be dead. For every bruise and scratch I find on her will equal at least one broken bone.

Three more floors.

Please be alive.

Please.

Oh God please.

I almost cry in relief when I hear the sounds of fighting, she isn't dead. I rush into the room, and met with a fist in my face. I pay it back with a knife to my attackers throat, and just as the second guy comes at me I duck below his arm and stuff my knife through his throat into his mouth.

I turn to where y/n is, and I see red as I watch three men slam her to the ground.

Just as I grab my gun a bullet tears through my forearm. The pain is agonizing, but adrenaline is stronger. I drive straight through the Factionless man holding the gun. Arms wrap around my waist and haul me to the floor and straddles me. I barely process their faces or their ragged appearance. The third attacker kicks my head, but I keep my focus on stealing the second man's knife. The third attacker tries and fails to grab my wrist as I steal the knife. I dig the blade into the second attacker's bicep, and I rip it down tearing down to the elbow. As the second attacker falls off me I stab the third guy in his leg several times and he falls.

I get up in time to see the first guy aim his gun at y/n.

"No!"

I don't think, I just run. I slam straight into him and we tumble through the window. Sharp, breaking pain snaps through my right leg as I snags in metal scaffolding, but fortunately it saves me from plummeting like the first guy. I simply hang by my leg, my vision already turning splotchy.

"Eric!"

I cry out as I'm hauled back into the building, but before I can complain lips crash onto mine. I'd always imagined they'd taste like, but all I tasted was the blood from her split lip.

Just as quickly as her lips touched mine her hand cracked across my cheek.

"You fucking idiot Eric! What the hell were you thinking you could've died!"

"That I was saving an angel," I groan.

"Stop being romantic you almost died!"

"Says the girl that kissed me," I smile through the pain. My eyes roll back for a moment and my whole world spins as I'm hauled over her shoulder. "Ow."

"Shut up."

"Just stay awake Eric, please. Otherwise I'll haul your ass out of the afterlife and kill you all over again."

"Yes," I let out a pained grunt as she starts running down the stairs, "ma'am."

It's been three days and this room still smells of bleach and cleaning alcohol. I can't complain, I'm lucky to have gotten a private room here in the Dauntless medical wing, especially one with a view outside.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit. Thank you very much."

Despite my pain I can't help but to smile as I watch y/n enter the room. A bandage wraps around her bicep, and another peeks out over the waistband of her skirt right on her hip.

"How bad are your injuries." Her voice is soft like a lullaby. I could listen to it forever and never get bored. She sits down on the bed and places a hand on my chest and I hiss in mock pain. "Oh my gosh sorry."

I snatch her wrist as she pulls it away and laughed.

"Asshole, your lucky I can't slap you."

"Even if you did I wouldn't regret it. How are you?"

"You first Eric."

"Fine. I got grazed by a bullet on my bicep, got shot in the forearm. I got stabbed several times too," I gesture to my bandaged torso. "My leg got broken in three places, and I'm covered in bruises. Now tell me about you, I know it must be hard after Kai..." I may be cruel but I'm not heartless enough to dig at how he hurt her, the last thing she needs is me to mock her or sound like a jealous ass.

She sighs deeply and looks out the window, "Kai is going to be executed tomorrow. Not only did he abandon his station of protecting me, turns out he helped arm the Factionless, oh and there's rumors that he was Divergent! Why is it I trust the wrong men?"

I sigh, "It's not that you trust the wrong men, it's just that bad men are good manipulators."

"So? I'm from Erudite, I'm supposed to be smart-"

"You are smart, so fucking smart. Trust me, you have no idea how easy it is to manipulate the Erudite. Don't ever claim you're not smart because you're the smartest woman I know." I grip her hand.

"I'm suprised Four hasn't scolded me yet."

"Well if he does tell me so I can punch him."

We sit in silence, soaking up everything that has happened. I almost lost her, we kissed but I don't know if she truly wants me back, I almost died too, which is honestly terrifying.

"What are we?" I break the silence.

She shifts, her gaze moving from the window down to me. "I don't know, I mean we kissed so I guess lovers once more."

"Do you want to be? Lovers I mean. I know we kissed, but we were high on adrenaline, so that doesn't mean you should force yourself to be with me. So is that something you want?"

"I believe I do. Sometimes I really hate you, but you literally jumped out of a building to save me."

"And got stabbed."

"Yeah that too." She chuckles and I soak in every bit of her brief mirth. "I missed being with you, I was so happy back then. So honestly, I want to give us a second chance."

"Good because I really miss how cute you looked running around my apartment in the t-shirts and jackets you stole from me." We smile and she lays down beside me.

"Can I kiss you. When you almost die you really value those little things. Also when you kissed me it was way too brief for my opinion and romantic as it was."

"Only because I like you."

I cup both her cheeks, my arm hurts but I hardly care right now. I pull her down to me, my heart soars as our lips meet. Her lips taste like chocolate and I have no doubt she was eating some before coming here, I can taste a hint of the strawberries she loves to eat too. I sigh and tilt my head to deepen our kiss. I feel like I'm on cloud nine.

Eventually we pull away to catch our breaths and I look at her, my dagger in absolute awe before pulling her down into a second kiss. I tangle a hand in her hair unwilling to let her go. I want to drown in her, to stay in her arms and to never leave.

"Y/n, my dagger, my love, my stars in the sky," I whisper against her lips, "you are my everything."

She straddles my lap and we kiss again, but this time it's hungry. She parts her lips and I happily accept the invite. I slip my tongue in, tasting, exploring. We devour each other in a clash of hungry kisses.

A gutteral groan falls from my lips when she rolls her hips. It's slow, experimental, but it certainly does the job.

"You're going to be the death of me."

She kisses down the column of my throat. "Do you want me to stop?" She asks it so fucking innocently, as if she doesn't have me rock hard and wrapped around her finger.

"Absolutely not," I growl and pull her into another kiss. She rocks her hips once more, but more confident.

I'm hungry.

No, I'm famished and I need her now.

"Fuck..." My hands grip her thighs tight, they're warm, plush, and I wish I could take a bite. My fingers caress the bottom of her skirt. "May I?"

"Yes." Her voice is breathy and I grin as my hands push up her skirt and push the bottom of her underwear to the side.

"Fuck you're wet," I chuckle. "You still virgin?"

She looks shy for a moment, "not anymore."

"Well I may not be at my prime, I'll still certainly give you a way better time than Kai ever could."

"Actually I lost it to Four," she smiles, clearly knowing just how much that riles me up.

"Four, really?" I pinch her clit and watch in glee as she gasps out a moan. "Let me guess, he talked you through it," her eyes flutter closed as I slowly circle her clit with my thumb, "Guided your hands, told you how to use that mouth huh?"

My mouth curves into a fown as she only nods, so I pull my finger away making her whine. I tut, "Look at me, and use your words, my dagger."

"Yes," she gasps, "he did."

"Good girl," I purr, with a small groan I push myself into a sitting position. Call me a masochist but I like the pain. My arms wrap around her waist, I grind her down against my cock and devour her whimpers in a kiss.

"Fuck you taste so good. Now go make sure the door is locked." She gasps as I nip her throat. Y/n practically runs to lock the door. To my supries she then rips off her boots and underwear before climbing back on me.

"Well aren't you cute." I reward her by pushing a finger through her entrance, thrusting slowly.

"Eric," she whines and squirms in my lap. I thrust in a second finger.

I bring my lips to her ear and in a quiet whisper, "baby I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be able to control myself. You look so pretty moaning and reacting so well to my touch," I curl my fingers, hitting that sweet spot that no doubt has her rolling her eyes, " but if you keep squirming I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to control myself much longer." I kiss down her throat before pulling away.

I push her skirt up, revealing her to me. "Such a pretty pussy, next time we do this I think I'll just tie you up and eat you out all night." My lips latch onto the sensitive area of her neck, just below and almost behind her ear, and I suck a hickey.

"Eric, please," her hips start to roll, riding my fingers and I press my thumb to her clit. "Yes, just like that please."

"Gonna come?"

I tisk when she whimpers out a yes without looking me in the eyes. She cries softly when I pull my hand away.

"What did I tell you about eye contact?" I give her ass a form smack making her jolt. "Use your words and look me in the eyes when I talk to you."

She mutters a sorry, but I hardly listen as I lick my fingers clean, "fuck you taste like heaven. I think it's ought time I finally got some well deserved attention."

I lean back, giving her space to pull open my buckle. She pushes her down to sit on my thighs and leans down close, her breath ghosting over my lower stomach, making me shiver. I pull his hair back as it falls over her face.

Her fingers work deftly and soon my cock finally springs free from my boxers. "M- fuck y/n." Moans escape from my throat as she licks a stripe up the underside of my cock before bringing it into her mouth. "Shit, don't- don't stop." I think I might just thank Four for teaching her because I can barely breathe this feels so good.

Far sooner than I want I have to pull her mouth from my cock. Any longer I would've cum. For a moment, all we can do is stare at each other, panting, hungry, swollen lips.

Soft hands trace my tattoos, trail up my arms then finally settling on either side of my throat. My eyes fell shut, letting her pull me into another delicious kiss. I soak in every second, reveling in the feeling of her touching every inch of my upper body. There's a string of saliva between our lips as we pull away panting and I watch in absolute awe as she hovers above my lap and strips the remainder of her clothes.

My lips part, my tounge darting out to wet them as my eyes trace every detail. Those lovely curves, the dip in her hips, the curve of her breasts. Once more my hands grip her hips and I pull her to me. I trail kisses down the column of her throat, sucking hickeys, nipping at her skin then licking it as if it'll soothe the bites. I damn near growl as I kiss, bite, and lick down her sternum. "Ride me," I command, my voice dark and desperate.

I bring a hand down to guide my weeping cock to her entrance, and I have to bite her shoulder to muffle my moans and groans as she sinks down.

"Eric."

"Shh, I got you." I kiss up her throat, and kissed her lips softly, one arm lays flat across her back, the other on her hip with my thumb rubbing circles on her hip as I guide her all the way down. "Just a little more, you're doing so good baby." I murmer words of praise when I'm finally to the hilt within her. I wait for her to start moving, letting us start at her pace.

She rocks her hips and my eyes flutter closed, my head burying in the juncture of her neck, mouth dropped open in endless low groans. I feel like a virgin all over again, she feels so good that I'm momentarily dizzy. But then I notice, her muffled moans and I pull away to see her biting her lip to keep herself quiet.

"Y/n, my love, let me hear those beautiful moans, these walls are soundproof. And who cares who hears, let them, let them know you're mine now. Let them know how good I make you feel." I stare deep inter her stunning eyes, watching them flicker to the door and back to me as she thinks. And then finally, she releases her bottom lip and let's out a moan.

"Good girl," It takes every bit of restraint to not take over and slaim her down on my cock over and over. "Such a good girl, don't stop, you're riding me so well."

My head dips down, her hips stutter then sped up as I sucked one of her pert nipples into my mouth. I moan, swirling my tounge around and on the pert tit, sucking, swirling again, over and over. My other hand gropes her other breast, and I love just how soft and warm it is.

"Eric!" She arches her back and she fists her hand in my hair while the other grips my shoulder for support. My other arm wraps around her waist tightly, and I finally let go of my restraints. Using my tight grip I guide her up, bit the underside of her breast, sucked a hickey and soothed it over with a lick, then slammed her down on my cock. I roll my hips to ensure I hit that sweet spot to make her see stars.

"Tell me my love, which do you prefer?" I guide her up again, and slam her back down loving the way her tits bounce, "the stars in the sky or the ones I'm making you see?"

She locks eyes with me, doing her best to keep eye contact, but I slam her back down making her eyes roll back. "Y- yours Eric! I pref- fuck, prefer the stars you make me see!"

I speed up, and her nails rake down my back deliciously. "Close?"

"Yes," she tugs my head back with my hair, looking me into my eyes now, "yes. Please Eric I'm so close. Please make me come."

I kiss her, hard, swallowing every moan, whimper and mewl. The hand that was on her breast moves down, tracing across her side and down to her hip. I splay my hand across her hip, gripping hard. I angle the arm around her waist so my hand can rest between her shoulder blades. I hold her tight against me.

"Hold on tight." M y thumb circles her clit, and using my grip on her hip and around her waist to bounce her on my cock hard and fast. Her cries of bliss fill the room. I watch her, her eyes rolling back, back arching, mouth stuck open in endless moans. She chants my name like a prayer.

A shudder seems to roll through her whole body, and her nails rake down my back as she comes. I bury my face in her neck, and cum hard. I grip her tight, grinding our hips together as her pussy milks me dry.

Every she slumps against me, her legs shaking and breathing hard. I pepper kisses across her face, murmuring praise after praise.

I pull out and allowed myself to fall back on the bed, pulling her with me so she lays atop me.

"We need to clean up."

"Soon, but I'd rather soak in the afterglow first." She kissed my jaw before laying her head on my chest, her fingers trace patterns across my chest, carefully avoiding my badly injured areas. The pain is slowly returning but I pay it no mind. One hand plays with her hair, occasionally rubbing her scalp or tracing the contours of her face. My other arm is wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close in a warm embrace.

"I love you my dagger, and I'm do grateful you entered my life."

~~~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope the smut turned out well, if not please send me tips and way I can improve/fix it. I hope you all enjoyed it.

Too Blunt? A Four x ex Candor reader coming next

[little-tyrant-gortash]

I have to move my theory to another post from here, so I can properly save it in my headcanons in my pinned post. 😊

Well yes, after being sold as a slave by your bloody parents to a warlock, you'd think one would be more cautious around a person who slaughtered his ally, butchered countless minions that supported him and literally pissed in his soup. (Because frankly. That's what we fucking did. 😂)

By rights, we should've lost our heads the moment we neared Baldur's Gate.

He does the complete opposite and since he's highly intelligent, I refuse to believe that he's doing it because he's stupid. No, there has to be another reason... why he... automatically... thinks the best of us. And yes, we ARE useful to him if he can persuade us to kill Orin for him, but he offers SO MUCH MORE in exchange for that.

His reaction to us - either Tav or Dark Urge - is overwhelmingly, frighteningly positive. He made a pact with Orin she wouldn't kill him but our mere word was enough. What's that if not hope and positivity?

I was thinking about something concerning this all. When we first talk to him face-to-face, we're in literal neck deep shit... he still has ideas how to proceed, he still has a positive look on our collective future.

I have a theory. I've been collecting these for a fanfic where he eventually turns away from Bane to Lathander. Because for me it's all. Right. There. It's also interesting that there's a MASSIVE lore on other gods but they've made an entire fucking Lathanderian monastery for us to wander in BEFORE we even know Gortash exists.

Okay, let me rant because I'm losing my mind, sorry:

Enver (Anwar) means "brighter, more luminous" in Arabic.

Enver Gortash's title is Lord Lightbringer. For comparison, Lathander's other name is the Morninglord. Very, very similar. And Lathander is rather the God of Dawn, representing a new day, a new beginning. It's also interesting that one of the titles a priest could get is Sunrise Lord. Sunrise Lord / Lord Lightbringer? Jesus fucking Christ Larian.

His Steel Watch have this big silver symbol on them that (to me at least) resembles the sun. Interesting he designed it in silver - the sun also looks white when we look directly at it, isn't it? Also: gold on black (light in the dark). And there are literal sunrays. Like dawn.

His exact words to us are "[we will] rise over Toril like a roaring sun"

Lathander's portfolio includes "birth, renewal, spring and youth, as well as athletics, self-perfection, vitality and creativity". Some of these definitely apply to Gortash, at least self-perfection, vitality and creativity does.

This entire passage on this page: "[Lathander] is the god of dawn, which represented the potential of a new day. A god of hope and beginnings, Lathander's name was invoked at the start of new endeavors, (once again, "[we will] rise over Toril like a roaring sun"] whether sealing a new deal, or setting out on a new journey."

Once more: like a roaring sun, because these words are burned in my brain. Bane is often called the God of Darkness. Why, pray tell, does Gortash say roaring sun? I'm going mental at that fucking line.

God of Hope - House of Hope (painful, but strange coincidence 😫)

"His was an eternal optimism, a constant willingness to focus on hopes for the future rather than wallow in the failures of the present. He was a doggedly determined god who encouraged proactive altruism and constant reevaluation of the old ways."

This ^ is also interesting because upon meeting him, Gortash doesn't focus on the past or the failures of the present either, he focuses on the future and what we can do together. He's also determined and constantly reevaluates the old ways (with his creations, his involvement in politics, his ascension, with his plans).

And how could he escape the House of Hope if he had no hope that he had a future, a new dawn?

I don't think that the creators did all of this by accident. It's visible they've paid careful attention to other details, too.

Maybe, just maybe... deep, very deep down... unconsciously... hidden from even Bane...

Gortash is drawn to Lathander. To the light. To the dawn and new beginnings.

And perhaps... maybe... he hopes that we are the ones who can bring him back to the light.

[endless-ineffabilities]

never tear us apart

Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader

part five of the prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: don't you love me? - part two: and what of your love? - part three: the flames that divide - part four: the aftermath

themes/warnings: injury, language, dragonrider!reader (her house is not stated)

word count: 6.1k ▪︎ masterlist

The Blacks make an attempt to lift the curse cast upon the reader. Aemond does everything he can to reach Dragonstone, in hopes of seeing the reader again. A sinister plot forms, threatening to cast everything into further chaos. Or set everything right. Only time will tell.

Alys Rivers is no stranger to pain.

When she was discarded by her mother at the steps of her apparent father’s castle at a tender age of 10, she felt it.

When her father did not completely recognize her as his daughter, relegating her to be one of the workers of his estate, she felt it.

When she had to fend off an attacker, using all of her meagre physical strength, digging her nails into the man who attempted to overcome her and take her girlhood, she felt it.

Pain is no stranger. And it is no friend, either.

But pain was something that she merely accepted, until she found the Lord of Light. Her mother sought her out years after she abandoned her, telling her that it needed to be done. She needed to leave Alys, so that she might be able to devote her days and nights to the one true Lord.

Alys should have been angry. She should have wept upon seeing her mother again, hurled questions and accusations at her as to why she left her only daughter. But strangely enough, she could not find it in herself to do so. She did not feel it was important then. Does that make her emotionless, devoid of even the slightest connection towards her mother? Perhaps, perhaps not.

All she knew was that she understood her mother’s motives. She found a sameness in how her mother was ready to sacrifice everything to Him.

The Lord of Light. The Red god. Alys found him, but already knew of her. He already knew of her pain, and he promised to take it all away. He promised her a saviour carved out of the very same pain, and strength, and sapphire-blue. The one chosen for her as a vessel into the light. Whether to love or to use as a mere tool to spread the Lord of Light’s power, she does not believe it to be in her hands. What matters is, her one-eyed prince would come and her very being would be devoted to him.

What Alys Rivers did not anticipate was that her one-eyed prince’s heart would already be spoken for. The flames did not impart that she would have to fight tooth and nail for it. For him.

She did not know that Aemond Targaryen’s heart would already be yours.

But then again, she is no stranger to pain. She felt it in the way Aemond squeezed her neck, in the way he dug his fingers into her skin until she almost turned a sick shade of sapphire-blue. Its talons buried themselves deep in her heart when her prince beloved Aemond, in all his unbridled rage, promised that he would never truly love her. Not in the way that he loves you.

No matter. He is merely lost, and I can bring him back into the light. Her delicate fingers graze the bruises on her neck, feeling him. She has already set her plan into motion, but nothing is certain. There are ways to bring you back, and she is aware of this. Her best hand is yet to be played, and there are things about to unfold. Things that will bring untether Aemond from you.

He will be mine, once y/n is consumed by the flames. After all, how can he still love you when you are gone?

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

Aemond has always been perceptive, ambitious, insightful. Eager to overcome any slight that his disability has added on to his existence, real or imagined.

Even before the fateful injury, he has already possessed a similar sense of pride. Self-preservation, borne out of being a Targaryen prince without a dragon, who also stands to inherit nothing. The second son. Everything he wants, he has had to carve out for himself. To take for himself.

As if to pour salt on the wound, it is clear to everyone that he is far more capable and more suited to the throne than his older brother Aegon. But this matters not, at least not whilst Aegon survives, and his sons along with him.

This thirst to prove himself, to make sure that whoever encounters him sees him as worthy, has always stayed with Aemond. He did all he could – ensured himself to be knowledgeable about the histories, philosophies, High Valyrian, battle strategy and combat expertise, the religion of the old gods and the new, and all else. There isn’t one important volume in the castle's Great Library that Aemond has not gotten his hands on, living and breathing the words, memorizing them.

Every bit of knowledge, each newly honed skill, forms into a new facet of his being. Making him better. Making him whole. All Aemond ever wanted was to belong. To be whole.

But he never thought he could achieve this without effort. Without strife to overcome. This invisible yet ever-present need to prove himself became something like a burden he has to carry. He never felt that he could belong, truly, until you.

But you had seen him. Accepted him. Aemond did not need to woo you with any embellishment, he did not need to tell you how he had memorized the histories of the Seven Kingdoms. It mattered not that he might be the most skilled swordsman of his age, having painstakingly trained each day since his tenth nameday. The allure of his status, of the power of his family, was not something that drew you to him. He quickly discovered that he never needed to impress you, he only needed to love you.

Aemond tried to fight it, but that did not last long. After all, is it not useless to deny oneself what calls out to the heart?

The day Aemond Targaryen allowed himself to love you, and be loved in return, was the day that he finally belonged.

And without you, the one-eyed prince would be unanchored.

Aemond remembers the night that you first met as he sits in his chambers, waiting. Years ago, you had rolled your eyes at him, at a prince of the Seven Kingdoms, when he said something out of turn about your friend Rhaena’s lack of a dragon. You were quick to retaliate, sharp and biting with your words. But the morning after, when you came across him sitting all by his lonesome in the library, you apologized.

Granted, you demanded his apology first, but there was something in his violet eyes. A certain awareness, a melancholy. There might be some darkness creeping in Prince Aemond’s heart, but there is an undeniable light there, too. A remnant of lost innocence. You caved in, and curiosity got the better of you. For hours, you spoke to your heart’s desire, each new subject brought up only increasing your interest in the one-eyed prince. And his interest in you was piqued in turn. From then on, countless days and nights were spent together in the comforts of the great library.

His heart swelled, perhaps for the very first time in what felt like forever, when you had fallen asleep on his shoulder one night, as he read to you about the chronicles of Princess Nymeria.

He hasn’t been the same since.

The night that has passed since he has heard of your affliction has been long and torturous, leaving him increasingly restless and stricken with worry. He had wanted to take Vhagar and fly to Dragonstone right away, without any mind to what his arrival in enemy territory would entail for him. He almost relinquished his part to play in the war. This ceaseless game that is being played out for the Iron Throne is what drew the two of you apart in the first place.

Until his mother stopped him, promising a better plan.

And so he waits.

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

At the height of the hour of the owl, in one of the royal chambers of the castle in King’s Landing, something is evidently afoot. The room is bathed in warm candlelight, the shadows reflected on each individual’s sombre faces. Their voices are low, in hushed whispers, ensuring the matter at hand to be clandestine.

Alicent is stern when she commands, “You shall help your prince in this matter, Lady Mysaria. You are, after all, in the debt of your King, and by extension, our family. Whatever slights you had to endure by our hand, we implore you to forget them. Have we not made good upon our word to eradicate the fighting pits in Flea Bottom? To ensure the safety of all the children?”

Mysaria studies the Queen, her shrewd eyes taking her in. She knows that she is not being presented with a choice, not truly. Not with this matter. She notices the grey shade of exhaustion right below Aemond's empty, glazed eye, caused by hours upon hours of worrying over you. His stance is taut, like a viper prepared to strike. Eagerly awaiting whatever impediment will stand in his way, so that he might destroy it swiftly. He would do whatever is needed, even the most distasteful of actions, simply so she would assist him in reaching you.

Aemond continues to say nothing. His eye boring straight through Mysaria. She knows right away that he does not give any mind to her. She is merely a tool for him to use, so that he will see you again.

Mysaria says, in her silky, sly tone, “I know you understand our arrangement, my Queen. I come and go as I please. I give you information as I please. You have had much use for the whispers that I provide. If I were to help you now, it will be of my own volition.”

Alicent purses her lips, “Of course. That it not being contested - ”

Aemond interrupts her impatiently, “Know this, White Worm. I am commanding you to do whatever you must so that I can reach Dragonstone, discreetly. Although,” he stalks towards her, “I will see y/n again, with or without your aid. Should you choose to help me, you shall continue to walk free. Otherwise,” he turns his head away, knowing his point has already come across, “hmm.”

“Are you threatening me, Prince Aemond?”

Slowly, Aemond turns to look at her once more. Mysaria was initially resolute in meeting his gaze, showing him that she will not cave easily. But his eye darkens, his expression a quiet type of menacing, but shadowed with a sense of grim that brought a chill to her very bones.

At once, Mysaria realizes that her Prince Aemond is not to be trifled with.

“I can get you to Dragonstone soon,” she starts.

“Today,” Aemond emphasizes, determinedly.

“On the morrow,” Mysaria counters, “there will be the timed arrival of resources by ship on the island. I can arrange to have you on that very ship, accompanied by some of my trusted… whisperers.”

“That’s not soon enough.” Aemond paces away from her, not satisfied with the solution.

“You should know, my prince, that the Blacks have employed the aid of a certain priestess of the Red religion. Someone who might be capable of countering the effect of the curse laid upon your paramour. They will attempt to conduct a healing ritual tonight,” Mysaria says, knowing every word strikes true in Aemond, hope slowly creeping in his expression.

“And this priestess… Can she be trusted?”

“She has not shown any sign of being otherwise. Rest assured that once you land on Dragonstone, I can have the Lady Y/n in some place which can be easily reached by you,” she pauses, careful to add what follows, “That is, if she will awaken.”

“She will.” Aemond’s eye snaps straight to hers, burning through. “She must.”

Mysaria merely nods once, before addressing Alicent, “Queen Regent, I trust that our arrangement is to your satisfaction? Now that you know how your son will be transported to Dragonstone under my care, do you still wish to move forward with this plan?”

Alicent takes a deep breath, knowing that no matter what her decision might be, Aemond’s mind is already set in stone. He will get to you, one way or another. Better to do it in the safety of the shadows, away from the malicious notice of the Blacks.

Alicent did not fully trust Mysaria, but she trusted that this Mistress of Whisperers understood, that should she play a hand in harming Aemond, then she would not hesitate in subjecting this waiflike serpent from Lys to the worst torture imaginable.

“If Aemond wishes it, then it shall happen,” Alicent finally says, looking to her son for confirmation. Aemond straightens, before nodding, “I shall await your counsel regarding this journey. I trust that you will get everything done right, won’t you, White Worm?”

There is a vague threat lacing the end of his words, one that does not go unnoticed.

The corner of Mysaria’s mouth lifts in acknowledgement, and she curtsies slowly, before making her leave, her translucent skirts billowing behind her.

A mere moment passes, before Alicent strides closer to her son, and takes both of his hands in hers. “Aemond, this will no doubt be perilous. There is no way of knowing what the Blacks might do should they discover you. Is this truly your desire?”

Two seconds pass, four, five. It is not the first time that Aemond has been on the receiving end of his mother’s worried pleas, and he knows it will not be the last.

Taking a deep breath, and comfortingly squeezing her hands in turn, he only has you on his mind. “Yes,” he finally says, “it is.”

Alicent need not ask why. She assents, “Alright. I trust that everything will go well, and you will return to us afterward.”

The last sentence, she says mostly to herself, in desperate need of reassurance. In hopes that no harm will come to her favoured son.

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

The atmosphere in the room is thick with despair and anticipation. A mixture of strange aromas infiltrate the air, making it hard to breathe.

From one side of the room, Daemon Targaryen’s face scrunches in disgust. And a whole lot of impatience. His fists are clenched on his sides, one foot tapping as the bloody witch continues her work on the seemingly vital concoction.

The Lady Cerrah kneels by the side of your bed, a small cauldron fuming by her side. Her voice comes out in deep, hushed whispers, as she performs the bulk of the spell. Her eyes are shut, and for a task of such importance, she does not seem to give off any sense of worry or agitation.

That fucking witch looks so calm. Daemon paces to another corner of the room. How the fuck can she look so calm with y/n’s very life on the line?

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra beckons to her husband, reaching for his hand, “she will be alright.”

“She best be in perfect health after all this sorcery,” he huffs in response, “otherwise, a certain witch won’t be leaving Dragonstone in the same state in which she arrived.”

Still with her eyes closed, Cerrah calls out, “Make no mistake, my prince. My hearing works just fine. We would not want to distract me from my work, lest it lead to any complication. It would not bode well for the poor Lady y/n here.”

“Our apologies.” Rhaenyra replies, also on behalf of her sulking husband, who continues to irately glare at Cerrah as if she possessed two heads.

“The rest of it, if you please, Maester.” Cerrah says, and Maester Gerardys walks forward and places a wide silver platter beside the cauldron.

Cerrah studies the contents, her fingers drifting over them as if feeling for a pulse. She takes a handful of charred wormwood and drops it in the cauldron. Next, she takes the sliver of dragonscale, retrieved from the hide of a slumbering Fyraxes, and it follows suit. The mixture hisses and bubbles as a result, the fumes growing ever stronger and more pungent.

“Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla prūmia.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ñelly.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ābrar.” Cerrah’s chanting increases in intensity, her tone sounding harsher, the words muddling over one another like a single drawn out command.

A cold, biting gust blows inside the chambers, causing the shivers to erupt on the skin of its occupants. The flames of several candles flicker then die out.

Rhaenyra’s hand tightens around Daemon’s, as she senses his distress resurfacing.

Cerrah lifts the chalice of young goat’s blood from the platter, and pours it in the cauldron, which suddenly begins to expel a bright, blue flame. It rises several feet high, the resulting heat so searing that it warms the entirety of the chambers.

Maester Gerardys and his two attendants have to wipe at their foreheads to keep beads of sweat from entering their eyes. But the Targaryens stand still, unperturbed by the blazing heat. The blood of the dragon rings true.  Queen Rhaenyra’s violet eyes mirror the flames in their vibrance, fierce and unblinking.

“Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla prūmia.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ñelly.  Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon ōregon hen zirȳla ābrar.” The words echo again and again, as Cerrah lowers her fingers into the cauldron, her face struggling to mask the pain it brings. Her fingers come out stained, and she stands, relentless in her chanting. She drags the potion from your hairline to the tip of your nose, painting your skin deep red, the colour of the god R’hllor.

Cerrah’s words wash over you, prayers to her high beloved. “Lord of Light,” she pleads, “take hold of her heart.” The ritual is centered on the healing of your heart, as it had been the target of Alys Rivers. Your heart had to cease, to symbolically be set in stone, so that it will not yearn to be united with its other half. The very one belonging to Prince Aemond.

Love has been the catalyst of all this pain, and only love can bring you back. The Lady Alys never would have set her tainted sights on you, had you not been the keeper of Aemond’s heart.

As you still are. As you will always remain.

“Āeksiot Ōño,” Cerrah rasps, passion punctuating her every word, “gūrogon zirȳla prūmia lenton.”

The flame in the cauldron disappears, as does all the flickering candlelight around the room. Everything is enveloped in shadow, with only the pale moonlight peering through the shutters.

All is silent, save for Cerrah’s hushed whispers.

A long moment passes, until Daemon’s growl breaks the stillness, “Why will she not awaken? This procedure has taken up nearly the entirety of a fucking hour.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra chastises, “perhaps you should wait outside.”

Daemon sulks, lowering his head, “No. I want to be here when she awakens.”

Rhaenyra comfortingly strokes his back, almost amused at his disposition, “Very well then.” She understands his qualms over the situation, over the notion of entrusting your wellbeing to this strange priestess. But they were at their wits’ end. They needed you back, hale and healthy.

Cerrah’s chanting stops abruptly. She lays a hand atop your nightgown, just above your heart.

“Is something the matter?” Daemon asks.

“There is… something missing.” Cerrah sighs. “I can feel the Lord calling out to me in return, but he cannot fully take a hold of myself and the Lady Y/n. It does not seem as if he can heed my plea due to a missing piece.”

“What piece, my lady?” Rhaenyra questions, growing nervous.

“A piece of her heart.” Cerrah breathes. “I need a piece of her heart.”

“You’re bloody demented, witch, if you think I will allow you to cut her open like some fucking boar.” Daemon strides forward without much thought, allowing his emotions to overcome him.

“Daemon, don’t - ” Rhaenyra tries but her words fall to deaf ears.

“You said you would bring her back to us,” Daemon grabs Cerrah’s shoulders, gripping tightly, “so, bring her back.”

“I said I would try, Prince Daemon.” Cerrah meets Daemon’s eyes unwaveringly, unperturbed by his anger. “I just need a piece of her heart. Not in the literal sense, mind you. If only you would give me a chance to explain myself first.”

Daemon releases her, stepping back, “You are in no position to reprimand me, my lady.” He adds the title mockingly. “Tell us what you need.”

“I can’t be certain about the object,” Cerrah muses, addressing everyone in the room, “but I need something that she owns, or something that was given to her out of love. A piece of her heart. Something laced with love. True love. Yes… yes, that is what we need.”

“Laced with love,” Rhaenyra whispers, something coming to mind.

Maester Gerardys looks perplexed, unable to come up with an answer. Daemon looks around, his eyes landing on your sword resting on the mantle, “What about her sword? She has fought with it since her youth. Surely it holds a special place in her heart.”

“That may not be enough.” Cerrah shrugs.

“Wait,” Rhaenyra says, before walking over to the round desk in the middle of your chambers. On top of it rests the boxes sent many days prior, the ones containing gillyflower from your own secret field. A thin layer of dust is displaced as Rhaenyra lifts the lid of one, revealing the remnants of wilting gillyflower inside.

She takes them gently, careful not to crumble the fragile flowers in her palm.                                                                                                   

“Laced with love,” she declares, meeting Cerrah’s eyes across the room. The priestess only nods in understanding. She does ask any questions. She can feel it, feel that the dull flowers in the Queen’s palm hold something more vivid that anything else in the room.

It is, in essence, a piece of a heart. From your Aemond, for you.

“It will not work.” Daemon grumbles, gripping Rhaenyra’s wrist as she approaches Cerrah, “Look at y/n. How can that one-eyed idiot claim to love her after having caused this.”

“We have no other choice, Daemon.” Rhaenyra shakes out of Daemon’s hold, and extends her palm to Cerrah, surrendering the gillyflower.

In one swift motion, Cerrah lowers the gillyflower in the cauldron. She resumes her chanting, her confidence renewed, “Gūrogon bisa jiōragon.  Iā piece hen zirȳla prūmia.  Iā object hen drēje jorrāelagon. Dovaogēdy, mijegon sȳndror, vok.”  Take this offering. A piece of her heart. An object of true love. Unsullied. Without the strain of darkness. Pure.

She dips her fingers once more in the deep red mixture, and flits them over your lips. With your mouth now stained crimson, the flame reignites in the cauldron.

From the shadows, your spirit awakens. You faintly hear an unfamiliar voice, a woman calling out to you from the void. You sense a light, glowing in the periphery.

“Ivestragī jorrāelagon jemagon se ñuhoso.” Let love lead the way, you hear the voice again.

You gather your strength, aching to find home in your body once more. Struggling against the haze that confines you to weightlessness, disconnecting you from reality, you will yourself to return.

For the final time, the flame dies in the cauldron. The room is neither warm, nor cold. Everything becomes still. Quiet.

All at once, your crimson-stained lips part, panting for air. Your fingers curl at your nightgown, seeking to feel something again, anything.

Nobody can attempt to conceal their amazement.

“Gods be good,” Maester Gerardys gasps in awe.

“God,” Cerrah haughtily corrects, all the more feeling that she has a right to, as she gazes upon the result of her work.

“Silence.” Daemon commands, as he walks over to your bedside, “Y/n?”

At the height of the hour of the owl, nearly a fortnight after being cast in the shadows by Alys Rivers, the Lady Y/n finds her way back to the light. To the living world filled with suffering and bliss. Of hatred and desire.

Ultimately aided by Aemond Targaryen’s love, you had been coaxed out of the darkness.

In the caves underneath the castle in Dragonstone, one particular dragon shakes back into consciousness.  A deep, resounding growl builds in Fyraxes’ chest, threatening to escape.

When it does, it reaches even the farthest corner of the island.

Finally, you open your eyes.

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

Your muscles ache as you reorient yourself with movement, leaning against the windowsill. The cool morning air is nothing but a welcome sensation, and you cannot resist taking deep breaths of it, the smell of the sea creeping up your nostrils. Rolling out your neck, you let out a faint groan.

“You should rest, y/n. The maester has advised you from engaging in strenuous activity of any kind.” Rhaenyra suggests. She and Daemon have steadily kept you company since you had awoken, themselves forsaking the comforts of slumber.

“I’d wager that the maester prefers me to not make any movement at all,” you jest, walking over to the table, and sitting down slowly. You take another plum from the plate brought over by your lady-in-waiting, and devour it eagerly, juices flowing down to your chin.

“Easy there, y/n,” Daemon chuckles, “or you might just exhaust Dragonstone’s supply of fruit.”

The doors open, and in enters Jacaerys, a relieved expression on his face.

“Y/n,” he rushes over to you, and squeezes you with both arms, “don’t you ever do that to us again.”

“Alright,” you smile, “I’ll try not to be put under some inexplicable curse. What a burden it turned out to be.”

“Right,” Jace nearly punches your shoulder in jest, but catches himself at the last second, “I am glad you are finally awake.”

“Jacaerys,” Daemon says, “why don’t you arrange for Fyraxes to be taken at the eastern coast, somewhere close to the docks, so that y/n might reunite with her dragon as well as enjoy the morning sunlight.”

Your face lights up at the thought, “She is okay? I would love to see her again.”

“Of course,” Jace nods in agreement, before quickly planting a kiss on your cheek, “leave it to me. Y/n here could benefit from a bit of fresh air. Besides,” he winks at you, “you kind of reek of stale sheets and sweat. The outdoors should do you a world of good.”

A hearty laugh escapes your lips, the first one after a very long while.

“You arse,” you call out to Jace’s retreating back.

“You mean, royal arse.” He counters lightly, humour lacing his tone. He politely nods to his sires, before leaving the chambers.

It is not long after his departure before Rhaenyra decides to address the low hanging question, “Perhaps we should talk about this… curse that you were dealt. A grievous harm had befallen you, and by extension, us. Rest assured that the one behind this assault will be put to justice.”

“I trust that you have some inkling as to who possesses the ability and the motivation to harm you, y/n.” Daemon adds, looking out the window in thought.

Rhaenyra says, “We have determined that it had been the work of a priestess - ”

“A demented witch.” Daemon interjects, sneering.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, before continuing, “It was a priestess of R’hllor who did this to you. The consensus seems to be that it may have been Alys Rivers, Aemond’s apparent consort. Well, at least she was. Word has reached us that the wedding has been called off, by none other than Aemond himself.”

So, he has followed through on his word. You straighten, letting the news settle over you. They are not to be wed, but what does this entail? He did mention something about keeping her in his employ.

“And if it is that wretch who placed a curse upon you, then it must have been at the behest of her master.” Daemon determinedly says, not a trace of doubt in his mind.

You feel empty. In the literal sense, as you had not been able to consume anything for too long, before this morning. Your head feels light and floaty, like you are a newborn babe finding her bearings.

But it is another matter entirely, the way that possibility makes you feel hollow inside. That Aemond may have been behind this ploy. That he had tricked you, and is not to be trusted.

“He couldn’t.” your voice comes out weak, tinged with doubt, “He would never do this to me.”

“I must admit that I feel inclined to agree with you, as it was the gillyflower sent by him that rendered the ritual effective. We needed something given out of love, and it worked.” Rhaenyra reaches for your hand, “However, it might be best if you do not see him. Even if he did not play a hand in the curse, as you believe, he could still lead Alys to you.”

You shut your eyes, leaning back against your seat. Nodding your head once, you attempt a smile at Rhaenyra, but it does not reach your eyes, “I wish to see Fyraxes.”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra stands, “I shall fetch someone to escort you.”

“No need,” Daemon says, “you’ll find Ser Erryk waiting outside. I had anticipated your desire to see your dragon, y/n, and I have already alerted the knight to keep a close eye on you.”

Rhaenyra pauses, this knowledge not having been shared with her, but she lets it pass. After all, Daemon truly cares about you, and would only be attending to your needs, especially in your fragile state.

“Thank you, Daemon.” You take his arm as he escorts you out of the room at a sluggish pace, your body still lacking its former vigour.

You hope that seeing Fyraxes might keep any thought of Aemond at bay, even though you already know that it will be for naught. Sooner rather than later, he will find his way back to your mind. To your heart.

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

The waves have been harsh and unrelenting, the wind threatening to make Aemond’s hood fall to his shoulders. He kept a tight grip on his cloak, as he sat in the quarterdeck of the hunkering supply ship. His royal garb has been exchanged for commoner’s clothing. All measures had to be taken to conceal his true identity.

The White Worm’s supposed whisperers were a pair of fishermen, regular workers on the ship, responsible for gathering the greater part of their freshwater fish reserves. They had stood to the side, always a few feet from the Prince, should any trouble come up.

But fortunately, it did not. The long journey from King’s Landing to Dragonstone remained uneventful. 

The ship had docked nearly half an hour ago, and the two fishermen led Aemond further onto the island. The small group had only been walking for a quarter of a mile, before one of the men turns to address Aemond, “Continue down this path,” he gestures forward, “for just a good few minutes, my prince. Then you will find what you came for.”

Aemond looks to where the man is pointing, seeing nothing but the same jagged rocks. There is no path. This might as well be a fucking ambush.

The taller of the men notices the prince’s hesitation. “Head down this way, Prince Aemond. It is understandable if you think that your trust is misplaced in us, but know that the White Worm does not turn back on her word.”

Aemond turns away in contemplation, watching as the waves slam against the eastern edge of Dragonstone.

“Hmm.” What other choice does he have, if he wishes to reach you?

Mindfully keeping his hand on the dagger by his belt, he marches forward, tilting his head in acknowledgement to both men as he passes them by.

Aemond is only partially giving mind to any potential threat, his focus unconsciously straying back to you. He is not even certain of what he will find as he walks further, but he wants only one thing.

To see you again. He holds on to the hope that whatever ritual conducted has been successful, and that you are free from the clutches of  Alys’ spell.

That is the one thing that can set things right. The very thing keeping his sanity intact.

You are the final strand of light keeping Aemond from completely yielding himself into darkness. 

Not too far away, Fyraxes stretches on a clearing amongst the rocks. Your hands glide over her scales, the feeling of her immediately making you at ease. She groans in satisfaction, mirroring your relief.

Your brow furrows as you notice her tense abruptly, craning her long neck to the side, seemingly sensing a new arrival.

“Skoros iksis pirta?” What’s wrong?

Leaning against her, you can’t help but brace yourself against danger. Dragonstone might be a steadfast fort, easily defensible against explicit attacks, but you now know better than to underestimate the reach of dark magic.

Fryaxes groans, not one of displeasure or alarm, but rather, recognition. Familiarity. A call you knew all too well. Whomever she sees coming is far from an enemy. Could it be Daemon? Rhaenyra? Surely it cannot be Ser Erryk, who has just taken leave to allow you some time alone with Fyraxes.

You take a few steps toward the direction she watches in anticipation, the faint sound of rapid footfall reaching your ears. You think to call out to ask who goes there, but the words never leave you. You see him.

Aemond comes into view, and your knees almost buckle from underneath you, your body seemingly remembering how delicate it has become.

His familiar shapely lips are parted in amazement, taking you in. Reaching up, he lowers his cloak, his silver hair a stark contrast to the dark cloth.

“Aemond,” is all you can say. And that was all it took. Aemond’s legs move on their volition, drawn to the sound of your voice. He pauses right in front of you, his hand reaching to caress your face, and you cannot find the strength to protest. You are not certain that you even want to. Whatever peril he might pose, your skin still yearns for his touch.

His hands gently hold either side of your face. He notices how you appear slightly gaunt, frailer, and it torments him. Immediately, he is compelled to punish the woman who caused you to be this way.

But for now, he relishes in the elation that only you can bring him. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, his voice breaking. Carefully, as if fearing that you might break against him, he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Aemond,” you say, stronger this time. A hundred questions threaten to spill from your lips, but you reel them in, save for just one. “What are you doing here?”

He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head. “What am I doing here?” He repeats, making it sound like the answer is supposed to be the most obvious thing in all the realm.

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, repeating the question yet again, and right away, you know. 

“Avy jorrāelan,” Aemond says, quelling whatever worry remains in you, “That is why.”

I love you. Of course. It truly is the most obvious thing in all the realm.

Your lips meet, finding home in each other once more.

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

In another part of the sprawling castle, a clandestine meeting takes place. At the bottom of a turnpike stair, at the end of the long and narrow hallway, there lies a room cloaked in shadow.

Three individuals stand inside, only able to speak freely to one another in this very room. At least, when it concerns Aemond Targaryen… and you.

“Has he reached the island?” The mastermind speaks. Who else can it be but the Rogue Prince himself?

Mysaria replies, “Indeed he has. He is convening with Lady Y/n as we speak. Everything is unfolding according to your plan, my prince.”

Daemon sneers, “Very good.” He turns to the other person in the room, “And you made certain that the Queen remains unaware of what transpires?”

“Queen Rhaenyra does not know that Prince Aemond is on Dragonstone, my prince.” Ser Erryk affirms. “I swore fealty to the Queen, and as you said, this plan is solely carried out in her best interest. I will not turn my back on this.”

Daemon’s pride swells. Soon enough, his beloved nephew will atone for his crimes.

And the rest of the Greens shall fall.

So who suspected that Daemon may be up to his usual serving of chaos? Alys Rivers will still play her role, but the more realistic threat to yours and Aemond's romance will be our very own uncle-daddy. You guys seriously didn't think that he would just everything slide, did you?

Wow did this take so long to post!?!?! I still don't think that long of a wait was worth it, and I'll try my hardest to get the next part done sooner :)

Thank you thank you to all of you who follow this series, routinely flooding my inbox with requests for the next part when I take too long. 🖤 Hehe yous are aces.

Apologies if I missed anyone on the taglist - it has gotten all too long (which is a good thing, after all) but I suck at organizing it, so I hope this post finds you well if I failed to tag you. 🤍

Series taglist: @crazylokonugget @xinyourdreamsx @raging-panda @zelzablues @whitejuliana1204 @caught-in-the-afterglow @a-demon-daughter @meilikki @carlottalhn @aemondswh0re @afro-hispwriter @xcinnamonmalfoyx @ietss @writer-lee5 @solacestyles @noneedtosearch @umavvitch @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @inpraizeof @evye47 @kellzlib @janelongxox @daydreamerblues @hearmeout-inc @marrianena @poisonedsultana @lithebunnyq @nushy @foras @thesheelfsworld @abcrosia @anangelwhodidntfall @kyrieshoka @katefullerrr @gxthicwxrm @bluscryn @lwqfhp @vampxra @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @justsumtuffstuff @verycollectivecreator @chiyausu @mistalli @buttercupstrand @cullenswife @blacpiink @darylandbethfanforever9 @pockcock @alexayoonlee (continued in comments)

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Ever since I saw that you like zhongtham... the idea has been living rent free on my head, thanks for build this roman empire in my brain lmao so...... TELL ME MORE, what are your thoughts on their relationship? how the people around them react to their relationship??

(of course, only if you want to, I hope you have a nice day!!)

oh god

ultimately i think what they both need is understanding? in the sense that- both have very specific experiences in their day-to-day lives that aren't exactly the common shared experience between most other people. zhongli is a fucking eons-long being and alhaitham is not neurotypical. like he's autistic, idk how else we want to put it, that's what he is. zhongli, meanwhile, by virtue of not being a human and not having a strictly human way of processing the world, cannot be autistic since- again, not human. but this does make him autistic-coded, if that makes any sense. my man despises slimy foods on the basis of the texture (yes, this comes from trauma, but what bothers him is still the texture. that's coding). he's not human so he has different sensory experiences, probably more acute than humans. he's been described as a blockhead. he seems like he'd have a very specific routine he follows. he's very exacting on his field of expertise. the whole 'haha no mora no wallet' situation comes from the fact that his brain is still logically thinking he can just make mora (which, given everything, is a perfectly valid thing to still be hung up on), and so he forgets his money because his mind insists the way of the world is that he can just make it - but he can't anymore, and for an arbitrary reason, too. he's the literal god of contracts: what are contracts if not a parameter of very logical pre-established rules you have to follow? and he doesn't bend on those contracts, because he's of the mindset that if you made them in the first place, you knew what you were getting into, so what's the problem. all combined, and added with the fact that he's not human, and you cannot call him neurotypical. because he just does not function to match human standards of what 'neurotypical' even is.

so like- we don't know that they've met in canon, but we have decent reason to believe it's a very real possibility. the same way you could say gaming and ganyu have probably either met or seen each other at least once despite neither ever mentioning the other or appearing together on screen, because- well, he handles a delivery agency, she works for the qixing, they live in the same city, they're both familiar with cloud retainer, ganyu moves around a lot and knows a lot of people, and gaming seems pretty social. you get what i mean, right? in that same sense, i think it's perfectly possible for alhaitham and zhongli to have met at some point. granted nowhere near as probable as two people actually living in the same city, but notable enough nonetheless: alhaitham knows twenty languages, for that quota to exist i have to assume that each nation has at least their own unique language (since they all seem to speak the same thing in-game, tho, i can only translate that as all nations having their unique writing script- which they do). idk how many languages you could pull out of regional dialects in teyvat, but the most logical and easiest and obvious thing to do here if you were told to go learn 20 languages to graduate is to first go for the main most spoken languages and then fill in the gaps w regional dialects or more obscure no-longer-spoken ancient dialects. so we stand to reason alhaitham must know liyuean (?) right? and unless he learned it from within the confines of sumeru (which is possible tbf), then he must've traveled to liyue in order to learn the damn language. with liyue having quite the decently-preserved history, he might've picked other regional dialects up since they'd be easier to study next to like- idk, an obscure old language from mondstadt or smth. so if you're a student in liyue on a quest for knowledge trying to learn the language and possibly other obscure dialects, who are you going to go after? fellow scholars. what do all fucking scholars in liyue do when people have highly-specific needs and questions? point to fucking zhongli. so you get where the idea comes from. you can't tell me its completely implausible (for a headcanon) for zhongli and alhaitham to have met at some point, not the same way i'd raise eyebrows at like- headcanoning candace and zhongli having met based solely on in-game info. or- ei and sigewinne. y'know?

so like- alhaitham needs to learn liyuean (+ maybe other regional dialects bc 20 sounds like quite a lot for 7 nations, 8 if you count khaenri'ah), he goes to liyue, he gets to learning and then runs into the roadblock of not many scholars being familiar enough with ancient dialects for him to become fluent in them from their input alone, so the scholars are like 'yeah dw we know a guy, he's super knowledgable' and so they point him to zhongli, zhongli is like 'yea sure i can teach you, what do you need?'. idk how long it'd take alhaitham to learn liyuean (+ whatever else), but i'd assume he'd bunker down in liyue for most of that time. so let's say like- 6 months, and it counts as like a 'foreign languages' course where haravatat students get given money and are shipped off to learn (bear in mind 6 months sounds like stupid little to become fluent in an entire language let alone possibly a few others, but we'll just assume alhaitham is a prodigy (he seems to be) + since it's not a whole language and just a script, then it can be done).

so he stays in liyue for a while. i'd guess learning from zhongli most of that while. they're two guys who like peace and quiet and reading and investigating and they're both rather knowledgable (the gap is obviously abyssmal but still). you can imagine them just- going to a tea house and sitting down with tea for hours on end in amiable silence and quiet grammar exercises. i cannot see them not getting along. alhaitham is practical and so is zhongli, zhongli has a lot to say but it's always with purpose and informative and for a reason, and alhaitham is just happy to absorb knowledge. alhaitham is effective and to the point and zhongli (a battle general) would probably be perfectly happy rolling with it and being effective and to the point in turn. maybe they start having lunch together some days (zhongli does seem to do that with acquaintances a lot so it's not strange of him) and alhaitham just doesn't want any stewy soups and zhongli doesn't question it bc he's the one asking chef mao to dice and slice his fish into oblivion. sumeru is big on spices so alhaitham would probably have no problems whatsoever w the jueyun chilli. he'd also probably pick up on using chopsticks easily enough bc he's a perfectionist. zhongli would realise like two seconds into their introductions that alhaitham can hear him perfectly loud and clear w the headgear on and never bother commenting on it at all. alhaitham would also probably clock zhongli's more acute senses two seconds in and be relieved he doesn't have to raise his voice around people for no reason all the time. catch the patrons at the tea houses being confused and mildly unsettled by the two guys on the corner table just mumbling stuff to the other with a pile of books between them lmao

i cannot see their relationship being like- exciting in the sense that big shocking things happen. i just think they're both too smart and good at communicating w each other that shit like that just wouldn't catch them off guard. alhaitham would probably hear about legends of the adepti throughout his stay in liyue and quietly figure mr zhongli might be an adeptus but never bother saying anything because why should he care about what mr zhongli is? it's not his business, and it doesn't make him not-mr zhongli. so it's whatever. i also don't think any drama would pop up 🤷‍♂️ again they're too smart and hypercompetent for any misunderstandings to appear. by virtue of both of them being non-neurotypical they'd also understand each other in particular ways, so they'd easily be able to figure out any stuff and sand off any rough edges. it wouldn't be an exciting ship, it wouldn't be a ship full of ups and downs and drama and twists and turns and spice and oh the romance of it all. they both strike me as ace af and if not aro then absolutely somewhere in the spectrum, alhaitham more than zhongli.

but i'm an absolute sucker for non-verbal comunication and quiet understanding and an almost telepathic camraderie that would be so funny from the outside so i just think they'd be a delight. like the perfect team. they get each other, they're both smart, they're both strong (again, the gap is abyssmal). absolute academic weapons the both of them. catch someone being an ass about a contract and zhongli just staring disappointed and alhaitham next to him equally disappointed but listing off every single reason why they're being stupid about it also. zhongli's a bit too nice to say any of that stuff aloud but you can't tell me he wasn't running a constant 'chat are you seeing this shit?' in his head during his first story quest w kliment. alhaitham knows he's already got the 'freak' reputation so he just goes 'well if you want to keep digging i'm happy to hand you a shovel'.

as for other characters' reactions to them- i'd have to sit and think about them? idk how the liyue gang would react bc idk how they'd work in a canon setting? i can't see zhongli leaving liyue and i can't see alhaitham leaving sumeru either. if i had to pick one, alhaitham seems more likely for like- leave sumeru for plot reasons. and then go 'okay fuck this' and go to zhongli like 'you're the only bitch i respect in this house'. but outside of plot contrivances, hu tao does send zhongli off on random errands? so maybe he could pop up in sumeru from time to time. idk how the liyue gang would get to meet alhaitham then but if there is one character that absolutely gets to meet zhongli is kaveh bc the man is almost everywhere alhaitham is + they literally live together.

i think it would be fucking hilarious. like alhaitham: oh yeah a friend is coming over btw. don't be weird about it kaveh: why would i be weird about it what are you on kaveh: ... kaveh: ... kaveh: a what alhaitham: a friend kaveh: what alhaitham: i don't think the bimarstan is open at this hour if you got something in your ear kaveh: what friend kaveh: you don't have friends kaveh: ...you can just say nilou alhaitham: ??? zhongli: hello kaveh: who- what. what- who are you alhaitham: a friend from liyue. the one i said was coming over. like five minutes ago kaveh: what zhongli: is he alright alhaitham: he's never been alright, dw about him. the study is this way

[thoseyoulove]

Does Magnus rape Lestat? Is that why the transformation is so horrific?

Either way I hope the show handles it with the care and sensitivity such topics need.

Hey!

So, I'm still on the fifth chapter of The Vampire Lestat (it's the first book I'm reading), so I don't know everything about the universe, but I did read that chapter (it's the second chapter).

In short, it's not what happens. But there's a lot of subtext there, it feels like everything that can possibly happen to a person without explicitly getting to that point.

P.S. This mentions major spoilers, (borderline?) rape and heavy topics in general.

Magnus stalks Lestat for a while and eventually breaks into Lestat's bedroom and kidnaps him. Lestat screams and tries to fight him the whole time, and when he doesn't, it's because he's too frozen to move. If I remember it correctly, he bites Lestat, but doesn't turn him yet and takes him to his tower.

Then, he brings him wine and tries tactics to compel Lestat to ask for it, but Lestat doesn't do it. He fights as much as he can, he begs Magnus to free him and I think he even tries to bargain saying he'll forget everything, but Magnus doesn't listen. And then he keeps repeating how he said no, how it was important to make it clear that he said no and that HE WAS WILLING TO *DIE* INSTEAD OF ASKING FOR IT. There's a significant EMPHASIS ON THE *NO*, which is a typical response you get from a lot of victims. I saw it as if Lestat was directly telling the readers "I didn't want this, I never gave that impression, I fought him, I begged him to stop, I cried, I prayed to God and every saint I could remember, I'd rather die, I SWEAR I SAID *NO*, PLEASE, BELIEVE ME!" As if he needed people to know this, a helpless, desperate and very human attempt to keep this piece of his dignity, you know?

And Magnus does it anyway, he spends like a whole day trying to "persuade" him or straight-up torturing him and ultimately forces his blood in his mouth and completes the transformation. It's only when Lestat feels the blood in his mouth that he responds to it, but it was more of an instinct reaction than anything conscious and consensual. It reads as a rape with forced orgasm.

Not to mention Magnus's predatory ways and how he fetishizes Lestat, his white skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a pile with a bunch of men he had killed before and had the same physique, some could even pass for Lestat's brothers. And after it, Lestat realizes he'd even defecated on his own clothes. He even mentions how rats approach him to eat it, but he doesn't care... It's not your explicit assault with penetration, but it's long, heavy, creepy, sinister, ugly, gruesome and all the metaphors are there. And, well, either way, it changed his life, his body, his brain, his entire existence for the whole eternity against his will.

And It didn't even come from a place of care and love, like trying to save someone from death, it was for Magnus's own selfish reasons. And at the end it felt pretty useless and trivial, which made it worse. Not that there is a scenario where this could ever be necessary, useful, important or justified, but there's not even a messed-up type of 'reasoning' from him, Magnus did it for the mere reason that he could. Just like that. It didn't matter. That was the worth of someone's whole life and future for him. It was almost random, even, except for his fetish with his physical attributes. Then, he dropped Lestat like a piece of meat, even when Lestat tried to make some sense out of it and sort of "embrace" it as if it was a good thing. He even tried to show him some physical affection and beg Magnus not to leave him alone. But Magnus just threw himself into the fire in front of him, adding one last trauma to Lestat's list.

In my opinion, it felt just as bad, really. To the point my reaction wasn't any lighter and it didn't bring me any sense relief or comfort that, by non-fictional/human/legal standards, it *technically* wasn't. And I agree, I hope they treat it with sensitivity and care, because however they choose to portray it, it should be triggering. This is a very crucial moment that they can't skip because it would affect the storytelling. And they can't change it too much to make it lighter either, because it wouldn't give you the real picture of what happened. They can alter a few details here and there, but not so much. It has to be awful, unfortunately. And I'm afraid they actually might make it worse, considering it's a week on the show and Lestat was kept in the tower with all the corpses, because on the book it's a day and he only finds out about the bodies later. I believe they might even change it into actual assault and that Claudia and Madeleine were their way of preparing us for something even worse with Lestat (and possibly Armand too).

I personally don't root for it, but I wouldn't be against it, considering all the metaphors are indeed there and they wouldn't be making it up out of blue. As long as they treat it with the care it deserves, that they have trigger warnings at the beginning of the episode, that they have coordinators, consultants, a whole bunch of experts and the actors and only use what EVERYONE is okay with. Everything should be a consensus, period. Specially for the actors, because as much as they love the show and are so incredibly passionate, thankful and dedicated to it, this will require a lot and they should all be taken care of. And not just in this case, but with everyone, everytime, considering this show can get heavy with a certain frequency. So far it feels like they are and I hope it stays that way.

Now, about draining, drinking each other's blood, blood sharing etc I don't fully know how that works, I see people equating it to sex/rape all the time, but I'm not sure I take it that way? But again, I'm still quite early into the books and I've already talked too much, so I'll save that for later... Thanks for the question. :)

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hello! Interested in your encyclopaedic knowledge on this. Skim-rereading the VC now for first time since I was a teenager and have to ask - does Louis ever, like - do anything for Lestat? This prompted particularly by TOTBT which my god is so savage. I can’t believe he’s happy to just… let him die?!? He doesn’t lift a finger, he doesn’t even try to protect him? It’s IWTV all over again, only supposedly their relationship is much better by this point.

It got me looking for examples where Louis does anything whatsoever proactive for Lestat and I’m really struggling. At the end of QotD, it seems like lots of the other vamps are trying to look after traumatised Lestat a bit, but I don’t think Louis comes to him? He just wanders off to New Orleans? Maybe I’ve missed a bit though. He looks after him a bit in his coma? Although not moreso than anyone else. But in the end it is Lestat who ends up waking up to save Louis. Even that bit in PLaTRoA where Lestat is about to have his heart stopped - Louis sitting next to his coffin - but Lestat reaches out to take Louis’ hand, not the other way round. Aside from verbally saying that he loves him, other than being generally nice and calm and polite, does Louis ever do anything to show it?

Hey nonny!

(Not sure about the encyclopedic but I‘ll try 😅💕) I do see a lot of the mentioned events a bit differently, allow me to explain (this is gonna be long^^):

Soooo to address your mention of TtotBT first off, I personally do think Louis thought of Lestat first and foremost when he sent him away in that scene.

Louis was tempted. It's no surprise imho that Jacob really wants to do that scene with Sam, because the power dynamics are inverted of course, but it is also emotionally very raw.

I want to pause here and recall a quote from QotD here, which is important:

Louis, the watcher, the patient one, was there on account of love pure and simple. The two had found each other only last night, and theirs had been an extraordinary reunion. Louis would go where Lestat led him. Louis would perish if Lestat perished. But their fears and hopes for this night were heartbreakingly human.

Louis... would perish if Lestat perished.

For Louis to send Lestat away... is to resign himself to death also. I think that has to be taken into account for the scene you mentioned, where Louis decides that Lestat deserves to save his soul, before Louis himself deserves to save his own. His rejection of Lestat there is done in full knowledge that he condemns himself there to a very lonely, cold, and ultimately fatal existence. He rejects Lestat there, knowing he will lose his greatest love.

I wouldn't call that happy to let him die? And I, personally, don't see it as a parallel to IWTV either, though it might feel a bit like that for Lestat, but the Louis here knows how much this will hurt. He knows what he is doing. He is condemning himself, hoping it will free Lestat.

And, while we're on TtotBT, in the beginning of the book there is the mention of Louis coming by Lestat's, to 'Netflix & chill', to share space and spend time, watch movies (for example "Company of the wolves", just being there. Talk. Discuss. Being together. So Louis did come by, for Lestat. And Lestat visited Louis, in his shack, had his own chair there. They were in each other's lives.

And... in the end of that book - when David show's up? What does Louis do? He takes David in. Makes room for David in their old home in Rue Royale. Accepts David - for Lestat. Accompanies them, too. Honestly, given David is David... that is a HUGE sacrifice! He let's David, the new fledgling, into their home. Because he is Lestat's. Later on, in PL, he will do the same for Antoine, which is obviously something that had to grate quite a lot as well, and I have always seen that as a rather conscious decision to allow it. To allow Antoine into their lives, because he is Lestat's.

Louis also tries to protect Lestat before the concert.

I know a lot of people read that from Lestat's POV and are just happy with the reunion (and of course it is beautiful and I really want to see it on the show!!) but... it's not only that.

Louis comes, to Lestat, not only because he can do so. But he pleads for Lestat to stay safe, too, to not do the concert. Because he is afraid for Lestat. He wants to keep him safe, wants to keep him with himself, too. He pleads with him not to go on stage. Offers to talk, to make plans, to 'Let us have each other in this century the way we never did in the past'.

You mentioned the end of QotD, and... in their universe, all that happens right after this reunion. A few days, a week at most. And then Lestat hides himself away again, in a room, trying to cope. Because he has been used again, abused, too, in a way he himself can only cope with by reframing it as love.

Louis knows it isn't. Wasn't. And he knows that he and Lestat cannot talk freely with the others there. He and Lestat are not able to use the mind gift directly. And... he is deeply unsettled by Jesse's report, the report she gives Lestat. Claudia's ghost. Deeply, deeply personal and something they share, very painfully. They go by Louis' tombstone, and then they can talk. A bit. Louis trusts Lestat and in his new powers. Falls asleep in his arms.

And that... is a rather powerful statement.

Louis (admittedly begrudgingly) enters that "adventure" with Lestat, fully trusting in Lestat. Kissing, embracing. Sleeping in his arms. It's a statement.

A statement that, despite Lestat feeling changed, and alien, that Louis still trusts him. Trusts in him, too.

And it is Louis, who tries to take Lestat home in Memnoch, Louis who pleads, begs for Lestat to be released. Louis who cries out when Lestat is locked up. Louis is the one who saves the books, Louis is the one who tries to comfort Lestat. Louis is the one who holds the proverbial fort at Rue Royale, with David, for long, long years. Louis is the one who despairs, eventually, when Lestat goes back into that half-awake coma, his soul taken away by angels.

Though there is more to that, too. You say Louis did not look after Lestat more than others, and I'd beg to differ. Louis was the one in the chapel, guarding Lestat. Holding his ground with the ancients, and the riff raff that Armand hunted down (even once with Lestat later). Louis is the one who keeps Ruy Royale, and makes sure Lestat is kept clean during his episodes of stillness, and it is only when he breaks, eventually, when Merrick takes his focus... that that... stops. When the Merrick events start, David visits Lestat, and Louis is 'there, seated on the marble beside Lestat, reading in a hushed voice from an old book of English poetry'.

Louis never leaves Lestat's side for long. Armand notes how he seems emaciated, hungry when Armand comes by in his version of the tale.

It is only when Merrick's spell unfolds that Louis leaves Lestat's side, that his focus shifts. And with the shift to Claudia and her ghost... the despair takes hold.

And it is when Louis heartbeat stops - that the "angels" lose their blackmailing material.

Lestat later tells of how he was forced to do "their bidding" by them threatening to take the eye... and though he doesn't elaborate... it is very clear what that means wrt Louis.

Because there simply was nothing else they could threaten him with anymore. Nothing else was more important than Louis. Not his eye, not his soul.

This always sends a shiver down my spine.

But that just as a note.

Louis is the one who accepts Lestat's judgment, after Merrick's creation.

He also accepts Lestat abandoning New Orleans, eventually, because Lestat cannot stand it anymore to kill the riff raff, those who "offend Armand", something Lestat calls "autocratic, ruthless" wrt to Armand's killing of them.

Louis accepts Lestat's decision there, and goes to Armand. Something that Lestat in turn accepts and supports(!):

My beloved Louis de Pointe du Lac left soon after, and from that time on lived in New York with Armand. Armand keeps the island of Manhattan safe for them—Louis, Armand, and two young blood drinkers, Benjamin and Sybelle, and whoever else joins them in their palatial digs on the Upper East Side.

And when Lestat is finally ready, it is Louis who apologizes to Lestat for the "past" by hunting a woman who wanted to murder her husband - in front of Lestat.

Personally, I find that a very poignant "doing-it-for-someone" :)))

But there is more.

Louis is the one who rescues Rose! Rose, Lestat's charge. Louis knows about Rose. Lestat's lawyers know about Louis. Louis takes over when Lestat is unreachable.

There is so much in these simple facts!

Like, they must have talked about Rose. Louis knows about Rose, knows she is important to Lestat, he takes the responsibility, saves her from fire, kills the ones who harmed her. Brings her to him. And he is the one Lestat's lawyers reach out to when Lestat is gone? Unreachable? What a statement is that in and by itself?! Louis is the one Lestat trusts with that child, the girl he saved and who will become his immortal daughter. Their immortal daughter.

And then, when Rhosh is there in NYC, at that table, and the axe scene happens... what does Louis do?

He smiles.

Now I don't know if you know that scene well, but it is quite the scene, and I honestly cannot wait to see it on the show.

And Louis... smiles. Shows support.

Quiet. Steadfast. The support Lestat needs, probably more than he consciously realizes.

And then, of course, later on - knowing what "Lestat cannot confide". They are finally sharing blood again, and Louis becomes Lestat's confidant. To all the things Lestat cannot speak about, all the things he has hinted at but cannot put into words. All the things that are too heavy to address.

That is no trifle.

And the silver cord, where Louis pushes the matter against Lestat's (not) better judgement. Where Louis is there, for Lestat to reach out.

Your ask made it seem (a bit) as if being there and offering is not sufficient, but strength shows itself in very different ways. Lestat is more direct, "flashy". Louis' strength is more subtle, it is an offer for support, unwavering support, whenever Lestat wants it. For as long as Lestat wants it. Not taking agency from Lestat, which is like the worst thing that could happen again... because that is something that has been taken from Lestat again, and again, and again. And Louis knows that.

And so he doesn't.

He doesn't take. He offers. It shows he knows Lestat. And he accepts him, and their respective pasts, and all the shit that has happened.

Again, that is no trifle, imho.

There is more. Little mentions, in the books.

A "grotto" they once shared. For example. Louis wearing the clothes Lestat chooses.

But for the most part you have to "read between the lines" as Lestat says, for the juicy details - however, I think when you consider the arcs? The arcs that span all the books?

The things we are told actually speak for themselves, imho.

Louis does a lot of things for Lestat. The important things, actually.

He is there for Lestat to turn to when Lestat's strength fails.

And yes, that includes the rejection in TtotBT - because Louis thought he had to be the one to show the strength for Lestat - to hold fast to the initial belief. The initial hope that drove the body switch - because Lestat had just found out he could not die anymore. Even if he tried. And he had tried. And it had sent him spiraling.

Would Louis have held out indefinitely? Probably not :) But that's another discussion.

[quinloki]

for the kink headcanons, can you do Heat, King, and Katakuri with Body Worship, begging/praise, and overstimulation? sorry if this was done before "^-^

Oh King - Hello good sir. I do believe this is the first time he's been asked for. Him and Heat Both \o/

Hmmm... Begging and Praise are pretty different to me, but begging feeds into over-stim, and praise feeds into body worship - so I think I can make this work.

Heat, Katakuri, King - let's go!

Heat:

Body Worship - FUCK Yes - Heat is, to me, all soft edges. Big heart, warm, calloused hands. He's scars and sugar, compromise and negotiation, but also firm and protective. He'll worship your existence with such unexpected gentleness - or expected gentleness if you've been paying attention.

The best times with Heat are those transitional moments, dawn and dusk, when the ship's extra quiet and people are either changing shifts or sleeping off big meals. He'll take what he gives to, letting the two of you be a tangle a limbs and lips, and soft quiet murmurs of love and appreciation.

Begging/Praise - Oh god you don't even know to both. - Praise ties into the body worship, but begging ties into Over-stimulation, which we'll get to in a moment. Soft and gentle as Heat is, I also think he has a sadistic streak. He doesn't want to hurt you in strictest sense of the word, but having you writhing and begging - your face stained with tears for whatever reason, he does enjoy that. So long as he's the source - like the other Kid Pirates, he won't suffer someone else making you suffer.

Over-stimulation - FUCK Yes - This man is a master of turning soft touches and gentle pleasures into absolute torture. He can have sensations building within you for an hour before you realize you're starting to get overwhelmed by it without any hope for relief. Praise turns to begging, soft turns into stern - dusk turns to night. The moonlight hits Heat's eyes and the tension in the air shifts. The softness and the kindness are still there, but there's a powerful desire to make you squirm, to make you beg, to make your body tremble against your will.

Charlotte Katakuri:

Body Worship - Oh god you don't even know - I'd written Kata receiving, but not him giving. The rating's the same either way. The reluctant lover wants you to know his reluctance is his own, and nothing to do with you. He'll praise and pleasure your body for hours on end, with a control that belies his size and stern face. He'll cover your eyes as he rains soft kisses against your skin, and soft caresses will carry such pleasure you won't even be sure if his words or his hands are driving you to the edge.

Probably both.

Begging/Praise - Sure / FUCK Yes - If begging turns you on, Kata will make sure you're begging. It doesn't do much for him directly - people beg him all the time, though not in the bedroom. He's far more interested in praising you, and honestly, being praised in return. Sincere praise, praise that actually knows him for who he is, is very rare in Kata's life.

Over-stimulation - Yes -> Oh god you don't even know - Kata's biggest fear is hurting you on accident. He's a lot bigger, and a lot stronger (unless your OPsona is comparable!) - but he's a very powerful man regardless. He wants you to feel unimaginable pleasure, but he doesn't want to accidentally harm you in the process. Once he learns though, once that future sight of his guides him through a few times, he delights in it. There's no greater blessing than seeing you unravel in stimulation and pleasure, and then watching you unravel in greater stimulation and pleasure because he adjusted accordingly in the time he had available to him.

King (other than "oh, hot." i have not given much thought to King, so this is all pretty spontaneous.) :

WARNING - Kind of Spoilery if you're not caught up on the anime/manga, but not blatantly so.

Body Worship - FUCK Yes - You should worship his body, he's far superior to you, after all. Lucky you to be loved to one such as he. If you have his attention in the first place you're pretty amazing to begin with, even if you aren't of the same tribe/clan as he is. King choosing you says a lot just from that, and he'll worship your body same as he expects to worship his. He might be superior, but he's chosen you, and that makes you superior as well. He won't let you, or anyone else, dispute that fact.

Begging/Praise - Yes / FUCK Yes - Oh you're going to beg. Maybe not for everything, and maybe not all the time, but you better know how to ask him for things properly. He expects creativity, and more than begging he wants to hear your praise. You might as well accept that you're going to be praying to this man on your knees a lot, but your devotion will be rewarded.

You'll more than earn your praise, and you'll get the desires you beg for. Nothing less to be expected of the person King's chosen to have by his side. (Do I think King's a little yandere? ... maybe. >.> )

Over-stimulation - Oh god you don't even know - Having you speaking in tongues beneath him like some follower lost in religious fervor is something he enjoys immensely. He doesn't really care about religion, but the feeling of worship that comes with it. The begging, the crying, the power to overwhelm you inside and out - it all comes together for him and makes the entire kink that much better.

He would never be so base as to be over-stimulated, but you're beautiful when you're coming apart because of him. He can't get enough of it, and honestly only stops so you can be undone again and again.

[prove-it-or-lose-it]

@wayward-wren that other post was getting to be a chore to scroll through, so I hope you don't mind that I'm moving my responses to a new one. If I've missed something you'd really like a response to, just remind me about it and I'll do my best. I think I've pulled everything that I wanted to go over here.

> Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 1:22-23  "For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles..." You're not alone in your skepticism, and that's why we have to rely on God.

I understand why you think that way, but my skepticism means that I can't rely on god. I can't appeal to something that hasn't met its burden of proof in order to explain other things that haven't met their burden of proof either. This just doesn't work, it's not a logical conclusion to make. In the absence of evidence for the claims, I must reject them until they can be shown to be true.

> Where does your morality come from? You can't claim God is evil without defining what evil is. Is evil hurting others? Then being a personal trainer would be evil, because exercise hurts.

This is hard to explain briefly. I mean, philosophers have been trying to nail down morality for about as long as all of written history. But what we see is that morality is an ever shifting social construct. There are things that we understand now to be morally bad which were seen as good or neutral in the past. And in the future I'm sure there are things we won't look upon favorably that are totally fine today.

Morality can't exist in a vacuum, so it needs a goal in order to sort of ground it. For me, it starts simply; the goal is to promote human flourishing and well-being while mitigating as much harm and suffering as possible. The evidence that this is a worthwhile goal is this: we, and even other mammalian species, have an awareness that individual suffering diminishes the chances of group survival, so in order to make sure we all flourish we ought to care for one another.

So I really don't believe in evil, though this might be a semantic point. With respect to my goal stated above, how can I see any moral value to a commandment that tells me that people should be used as property? This degrades and dehumanizes both subject and master, maybe even irreparably, and does nothing to promote human flourishing.

And this view is capable of accounting for nuance, whereas "don't look at someone and think they're sexy," is a harsh, black and white statement that amounts to thought crime, which is something that has no use other than to mentally dominate people and make them subservient. And for what? Thoughts like this cause no harm as long as the thought doesn't lead to any external, non-consensual action, and most of the time if not all, they're completely involuntary. It's control for the sake of control without even approaching being a moral value.

The nuance comes in as well with your personal trainer example, though I'd argue that the trainer is not harming directly but guiding a person through a process that will indeed cause some self harm, but with a positive goal. It's contractual and the recipient knows that the slight harm is to their benefit. Similarly, we consent to surgery which can be very risky harm, with the goal of becoming well. Absolute, black and white commands don't leave room for this and should ultimately be rejected in favor of a reasoned approach that takes all available information into account.

If god commands us not to lie, did he know that in 1930's Germany a great number of compassionate people, often devoted believers, would hide people in their homes who were taking refuge from a fascist regime? Did he expect those people who lied to the officers banging at their door, in order to protect innocent lives, to beg his forgiveness for misleading men with murder and torture in their minds? If my friend is in an abusive relationship and they've come to my place to call for help, and their enraged partner comes to me asking where my friend is, what forgiveness do I need for telling them that my friend isn't there? I've done no wrong, but this imperative given with no caveats or grey areas allowed brands me with the title of sinner and I object. Real life application of morality is rarely, if ever, as cut and dry as these ancient edicts would imply.

> If there is a God who created the world and is so much more powerful than the beings He created, why can't he make the rules?

I don't think that there is a god, or that the world was created, but to entertain the hypothetical; of course, I'd have no choice but to accept that those are the rules, but I'd also have no obligation to follow the rules if I have the free will you say I do. I don't necessarily believe in free will, but I would never follow an immoral command. If a god told me to go and do a genocide on the Canaanites or to keep slaves, for example, I would have all the information I needed to conclude that this god is a tyrant and undeserving of obedience or worship. I'd be damned, but my conscience would be clear.

> The thing with Christianity, is it's a story of God reaching to man. Every single other religion is man reaching to God. Every single other religion is a works based religion. Every single other religion is focused on how we can be Good Enough for God.

I don't have much to say here, except this: do you know every single other religion that has ever existed? Have you studied the Vedas of Hinduism, or whatever texts are foundational to Shintoism? How about ancient religions of fallen civilizations lost to time? Is it not more than a little bit dishonest to make broad, sweeping claims about "every single other religion," especially when your own's adherents can hardly agree among one another on what the official doctrine demands? These things are complicated and we shouldn't make such generalizations given the vast amount of study one would have to go through in order to truly know what you're claiming to know here.

[bestworstcase]

I have a question about some of your Salem thoughts

If Salem is 110% certain that she can take down the Gods (assuming that's her goal since we don't actually know), why wouldn't she communicate her plan to Oz? Especially if she truly doesn't want anyone to die like you say. Oz would jump at the bit if Salem said "Hey I want to stop fighting" since that would mean their shadow war would stop. I really don't think Oz likes the Gods either, and even if he's afraid of them, if *Salem* is that confident she can stop them (she's far from an idiot), I'm sure he'd at least hear her out (which would tell Salem a LOT).

If she's that confident and truly doesn't want to fight, why wouldn't she tell Oz her new plan? And why would she kickstart her plan by attacking the kingdoms/Academies? Surely she could find a way to steal the Relics without flat out attacking them (like sending in double agents to take the Maiden powers)? Like... she would've known she'd get people killed, including children and innocent people. Even if she did damage control (which I think is just strategic, why bother going after people if she's focusing on the Relics? She's not gonna waste precious time and resources), she surely knew people would get caught in the crossfire.

Don't get me wrong, I like what you bring to the table!! Your posts are thought provoking and unique. But I can't see Salem being somehow secretly good. I don't think the show is setting her up that way, and I think she's a fantastic villain, so from my own perspective, doing that kind of twist would be a disservice to her character. I don't think she's inhuman or a complete and total monster who should go, but she's definitely not a good person especially if she can't communicate that she supposedly doesn't want people dead. She seems to be an "the ends justify the means" kind of person, and the show I think has stated that that isn't a good mindset i.e. Ironwood.

Sorry, I rambled and completely strayed from my point 😅 I don't mean to be mean if I come across that way. I hope my ask is interesting or thought provoking though :P

my position is that salem is right, not that she’s secretly good—that is an important distinction. i think she sees the gods clearly for what they are, thinks the divine ultimatum repulsive and unjust, wants remnant to be free, and believes that humanity is transcendent over their creators; she also, quite plainly, does not have any compunction about doing whatever it takes to achieve her ends and while i do think she is still fully capable of and driven by love, she is so TERRIFIED of being hurt again and so CERTAIN that no one could ever care for her that when she does care for someone else it comes out in very, very twisted and often cruel ways. she’s not good, she’s not nice, she’s just right.

equally the heroes are good but not right, because they have yet to really grapple with the premise of the divine mandate (that humanity as it exists right now does not deserve to exist) or their own role in upholding it (their immediate goal is survival, but when they envision the ending of this war they imagine salem driven back and the relics squirreled away again in hope of at best everlasting stalemate). the point of structuring the narrative this way is that neither side can get to the proverbial good ending alone; they need to work together, salem’s ends with the heroes’ means.

like. she’s evil. lol. that’s not in question and i think it goes without saying that she is doing evil things so i don’t feel the need to make a “but she’s still evil though” disclaimer every time i try to tease out what’s going on in her head. notice how my reaction to salem razing vale was OH GLINDA LAYS SIEGE TO THE EMERALD CITY, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW and not, like, shock or dismay that salem would do such a terrible thing. brgdfjs

(i DO think she has mostly been trying to avoid ozma and not reciprocating the shadow crusade against her prior to about fourteen years ago and that she isn’t about wanton destruction or killing for the sake of it; and in that sense i think she’s not as bad as the general fanon reading. but that comes with the territory of thinking she has actual reasons for doing what she does as opposed to being, like, a genocidal lunatic.)

anyway. to your questions. the short answer is she’s just as scared of oz as he is of her.

“but he’s the good one!”—think about this from her perspective for a minute. set aside your opinion of her and oz, presuppose for the moment that i’m correct on her motivations, and consider what everything ozma’s done in the last few thousand years looks like to her.

she knows that the gods were monsters. she witnessed them slaughtering the whole world and she saw how little it mattered to them after. she was alone for millions of years, and then hated and feared for thousands of years because she didn’t look human. all that suffering because the gods are punishing her for praying to them. yes?

then ozma returns to her, somehow. he doesn’t explain how or why—maybe he tells her he just doesn’t know—but that’s alright. what matters is that he’s here. he asks what happened to her, and she tells him the truth: the gods ended the world. cursed her. killed everyone. she was alone for so long. (maybe not the whole truth: there are things she’s afraid to say, because the gods did it all to punish her, and it’s her fault, and she’s so scared that he’d despise her if he knew everything. the only reason for her to fear ozma would reject her is if she blamed herself. you don’t hide things out of shame if you don’t feel ashamed of them.)

they learn each other again. fall in love all over again. things are finally okay. they fix up her house. they’re happy together. one day ozma tells her that he’s worried about how divided people are. she wants so badly to make him happy; she would move mountains for him. salem herself has no interest in ruling over people as a god—if she did, she wouldn’t have been living alone in a rotting shack in the middle of nowhere—all that enthusiasm is for him. to support what he wants.

they build a following, found a prosperous kingdom, start a family. four children! how long do you think they were married—ten years? twenty? and the whole time, the whole time, ozma was keeping these secrets from her. that the god of light, who’d condemned her to eternal suffering for praying to his brother, who’d shown utter indifference to the deaths of millions, had sent him back to redeem humanity FROM HER SINS, from what SALEM did. that the point of all this is cleansing humankind of her defiance and inviting THAT MONSTER to remnant to judge whether this world deserved to be subjugated under the brothers’ tyranny again or else be put to death.

imagine how she must have felt when ozma finally told her the truth, knowing that the first thing she told him was that the gods ended the last one. imagine the sickening realization that their whole marriage is built on a lie, because she would never, ever, ever have agreed to help him unite the world if she had known what he sought to unite them for, and ozma knew she never would. that he deceived her! manipulated her into serving the will of a god she knows to be a monster!

and even then—even to the very end—she loved him enough to try. she was willing to forgive all of that and figure out a way to move past it together, and the only thing she asked was that he walk away from his task of submitting this world to the judgment of THAT MONSTER. and he wouldn’t do it.

there’s a gap we don’t get to see, in between ozma backing away from her and salem catching him leaving with the girls, but we can infer that ozma walked out of that room and salem didn’t. imagine how she felt. ten years, twenty years, however long it was, and he was lying to her through it all, and he left her with hardly a moment’s hesitation when she refused to help him enact THAT MONSTER’S retribution against herself. because that is, ultimately, what this is all about; humanity is found guilty by association with her.

imagine how she felt. used. worthless. duped. like a fool for ever trusting him. did he ever love her at all, or was that a lie, too?

when she caught him in the hallway later that night, they both attack each other in the same instant. ozma remembers her attacking him first, but their volleys meet in perfect symmetry and right before salem throws her first bolt of magic, her eyes flicker down in surprise as she tracks the motion of his staff (which we see in the previous shot)—salem remembers him attacking her first.

because they were both so tense and scared and angry at each other that they snapped in exactly the same moment.

their battle is so intense they blow up the castle, and when the smoke clears, salem is a pile of ash. ash! he incinerated her! imagine how enraged you have to be to burn someone to ash. that level of fury, of absolute hatred of her, is literally burnt into her memory as the last thing he did to her before she managed to kill him, inextricably twisted around the guilt and unbearable grief she feels for her children.

he’s dedicated all but a handful of his lives since then to getting rid of her. finding a way to destroy her. (how far is he willing to go? what would happen if salem tried to move on, find community and solace somewhere far away from him? would he come after her? would he follow his god’s example and go after the people she cared about to punish her? is she willing to risk that he might?)

do you think salem understands why ozma did any of this? she doesn’t. she doesn’t get the luxury we do of jinn narrating his side of the story and showing us the anguish he felt, wanting so desperately to be with salem but eaten alive by terror of dooming the world for his happiness. she doesn’t know.

all she knows is how he treated her: the secrets, the deception, the manipulation, the immediate and absolute rejection when she told him no, the explosively violent anger at the end, then centuries upon centuries systematically erasing her from history and enforcing her exile whilst searching for the relics he needs to summon his god for the final judgment. which she knows will inevitably end in the annihilation of the whole world and yet more torture for her with no hope of reprieve, because if all of this was not enough to satisfy the god of light’s grudge against her for, again, just praying to his brother, nothing ever will.

salem feels about ozma now the way blake felt about adam. why did he lie to her, why did he use her, why does he keep coming back, why won’t he just LEAVE HER ALONE, hasn’t she suffered enough, hasn’t she been punished enough, when will it be enough—and intertwined with that, she is being EATEN ALIVE by the conviction that no one could ever truly care about her or feel for her or want to help her or think that she deserves help or even just see her as a person, because if ozma—ozma, the one who saved her from her father’s tower, who knew her and loved her before all of this happened—if ozma thought her so worthless that he would rather serve a god who ended the last world and promises to condemn this one too than suffer her to exist at all in this world, why the fuck would anyone else be any different?

thousands of years later, she still flies off the handle when anyone lies to her. (except cinder. but cinder is always the exception, to every rule.) there’s a reason she recruits the kind of people she does—desperate, broken, angry people starving for something she can promise to give them if they make themselves useful to her—and it’s because she does not believe that she can get anything better than strictly transactional relationships with people who have literally nothing and nowhere else to turn. and when she actually cares about someone? she fights herself tooth and claw over it because she desperately doesn’t want to open herself up to more heartbreak. look at how erratic and cruel she is with cinder.

it’s not rational. salem is smart and very, very tactically shrewd but she is making all of her plans and all of her choices from the assumption that she is and will always be alone in this, because she is unlovable, because she is worthless, because she is the reason this world is damned. and she’s terrified of ozma because to her everything he does suggests that his conviction and dedication to the god of light has never wavered. she cannot see his doubt. she cannot see his misery. she cannot see how much he misses her and desperately wants to make amends. all she can see is that he’s zealously guarding the relics and spreading his god’s word and training children to fight and die in the name of keeping her exiled.

why doesn’t ozma just go to her and tell her he wants to make amends? because he’s terrified she’ll never forgive him and terrified that he’ll damn the world to annihilation if he follows his heart. they’re the same. they’re exactly the same.

but this is also what makes it so possible—even easy—for salem to undergo a villain-to-hero arc, because the only thing that needs to happen is a spark of real hope. that someone, anyone, could really care about her. like. the things she says in her soliloquies about the transformative power of hope? “even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change,” and “it’s true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary…”—that’s her. one small reason to hope. that is all she needs to change.

she doesn’t want to be razing kingdoms to the ground or cutting a bloody path through children to get those relics. she is willing to do it because she truly, genuinely, from the depths of her soul believes that it’s the only way to free herself from the torture she’s been subjected to for millions of years. she’s driven to this by desperation. she won’t keep doing it if she’s given a reason to feel less desperate.

but she does need to be given a reason, first. she’s hemorrhaging. this is why the winnowing of her inner circle and the split between everyone else in vacuo versus salem + cinder + summer in vale is important; Those Two are the ones she cares about—technically we don’t know for sure regarding summer yet, but the level of trust she has for the lieutenant holding beacon is suggestive—and that being reciprocated is what ignites her hope.

[hiraya-rawr]

Same Xiao anon here: this is revenge.

Someone mentioned Scaramouche sibling ideas and you know what? I’m here for it.

Another prototype created after Scaramouche’s inception, once again another failure but for different reasons. This prototype was much to hopeful, much too ambitious, much too mortal to withstand the station of eternity. Before it was abandoned, in its hazed yet dreamy state it learned of their long lost predecessor - they would come to call him brother rather than “puppet” in the eyes of their mother.

With just that misty dream, they pressed on into the world in search of their brother. Unlike Scaramouche’s experience, with each obstacle and heartbreak they continued on forever hopeful and naive - the very flaw that casted them out.

Only… when they do find him, he has no room in his heart (or lack thereof) for his so called kin. At least he still has a use for them: a worthy sacrifice for the birth of a god. Yes, nothing more.

🙂

scaramouche sibling brainrot

// XIAO ANON PLEASE THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT SO WELL INTO WORDS

Another puppet was made after Scaramouche, it's maybe even more of a failure than its "big brother". Too hopeful, too loving, it could never handle the duties of an Archon.

To Yae Miko, she believed that destroying it would be merciful— but to Ei -who couldn't raise a hand against her own creation- thought that abandonment would be a less cruel fate.

Your "mother" tells you of another puppet, she isn't sure why. Maybe she hopes you'll find each other, maybe deep down she's aware of her flaws as the "creator".

You didn't understand why you couldn't meet her after that. Thrown out into a world you had little knowledge of. Perhaps mother was too busy? Perhaps she wanted you to stand on your own two feet? You roamed Inazuma, learning new things each day.

One day, you learned that the village kids you frequently played with had siblings. Born of the same womb— of the same mother. Is that what a sibling is? Was the puppet your mother created before you your sibling?

Did mother tell you so that you may find your brother?

Scaramouche hears of you. From both rumors and his own intel, he thinks you're a little pathetic. You've been thrown out like him, no better than trash and another sour stain in the world— but your activities pique his curiosity.

What is with you making friends? You strike conversations with the Fatui, you help lost travelers, you share food— have you not learned the first time? As if there's a severe flaw in your system.

He doesn't try to avoid you. He doesn't try to meet you either. To him, you're simply strangers... until the day you find him, happily calling him your older brother as if the long search was over.

He stares at you with dumbfounded disgust. What?

"Ha? Brother? Listen here, you are no different from a toy thrown away. She is not your mother, and I am not your brother."

Scaramouche doesn't understand why you continued to follow him. Loudly, at first, then quietly the next. Pacing yourself just a little behind him, not in a way that would bother him but he knows you're there by the sound of your footsteps.

He tries to shake you off. Lose you in crowds and his random missions, but you'd always somehow find him (sometimes, it takes only days. Other times, it takes years).

Eventually, he settles for a life where you're always nearby— constantly within reach. He doesn't bother to knock some sense in you about the complicated nature of your existence (to him, you're too dumb to understand anyway. a head full of flowers, he says, even when you're actually quite smart).

He doesn't correct you when you call him brother anymore either, and you settle for a life that's almost peaceful (he never truly tells you what he does with the Fatui. you don't follow him either, knowing he'll get angry, and you wouldn't want your brother to get angry at you!)

// makes me wonder how his story quest would progress once hes playable