#i feel like i am shedding skin like a snake

[fromedennn]

decay and feeding new life—

kathiann kowalski // hozier // kobayashi eitaku // cyrus martin // friedrich heyser // gail potocki // william shakespeare

[usercelestial]

The idea of Aziraphale falling the angel version of Crowley but that person is no more and then Aziraphale falling for the demon Crowley is eating my brain...

aziraphale fell for an angel who carved out the stars and when crowley crawled from his burnt up body, aziraphale loved a demon with scales and yellow eyes just as much. crowley fell from heaven and built himself back up from the ashes of who he used to be and aziraphale didn't even blink before loving him with his whole being. crowley has the capacity to be both of these iterations of himself, he changes and sheds his skin and aziraphale just keeps loving him. the angel that crowley used to be doesn't exist anymore but that's just fine because there isn't a crowley that aziraphale wouldn't love.

[philistiniphagottini]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well. I’ve never requested anything before so I’m sorry if this isn’t the right way to do it, but would you write more for Messmer from Elden Ring with a female reader??? I’d love to see a loss of virginity for either parties wink wonk

Thank you :)

Hello Anon! Thank you very much for indulging me in requesting for Elden Ring. And don't worry, you did good on your first request. I loved the idea and it took me a while to decide who's cherry was going to be popped but I decided Messmer ((let's admit it, he's severely touch starved)). I may have gotten a little carried away but I hope you enjoy it~

cw. smut, penetrative sex, first time, vanilla, size difference, female reader, 3.5k words, MDNI

The cool, silken bed sheets beneath your body felt heavenly against your searing, bare skin, taming the wildfire coiling inside you as your blood simmered hotly in your veins. A soft hum bubbled up your throat, kiss swollen lips parted around a soft purr before your tongue peaked through the plump skin. 

“My lord, pray tell, do you intend to stare at me all evening like a fish out of water?”

There was a teasing lilt to your voice that made the tips of Messmer's ears burn hotter than the coals of a furnace. His golden gaze flickered in your direction as you lay bare beneath him, your sumptuous body swimming in a sea of plush pillows and soft blankets. Every hair on the nape of your neck stood up in anticipation as your eyes roved over your lover's form, dipping and tracing every intimate detail that you wished to etch with your fingers. It made the tips of your fingers tingle with an insatiable itch as you raked your nails between the sweat soaked sheets. Messmer chose not to respond to your teasing remark, mind far too focused on other matters at the moment to entertain you. You could practically see the cogs in his head moving and you couldn't quite recall a time you had ever seen your lord act so…nervous. Well, it was his first time, after all. 

Your movements were slow as you shifted beneath him, the fine jewellery of silver and gold wrapped your ankle clinking softly as you raised your foot. You planted your foot against his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you gave him a soft, playful shove. 

“Nervous around little ol’ me? Am I too much to handle?”

Your tone was still coy, but with an underlying sense of concern. Being vulnerable like this certainly wasn't as easy as shedding a few layers of clothes. Messmer had never indulged like this before. Never indulged in you, like this. Nervousness was only one part of the violent concoction already brewing in the pit of his stomach. He wanted this; he wanted you but wasn't sure where to begin. It must have been a rather comical sight having someone twice your size hunched over you as still as a rock and feeling just as dense as one. Yet your voice stirred something in him and he didn't feel as nervous when you talked to him like you always did, so soft and sincere. And maybe a little bit of cheek. The corners of Messmer's lips twitched into a ghost of a smile as you rubbed your foot along his skin, trying to ease the tension out of his body. The soft touches were searing against his skin and the burn it left lingering almost made him recoil from the sudden oversensitivity. His large hand wrapped around your dainty ankle, fingers gently curling into your skin as he coaxed it away from his stomach. 

“Thine chatter is rather distracting” Messmer said, his voice barely above a breathy whisper. 

You smiled up at him as you felt the cold caress of scales drag over your sensitive skin, tickling you as you felt the familiar coil of his snakes pressing intimately into your skin. 

“Is it helping?” you inquired. 

A soft chuckle breezed past his lips as he tilted his head in your direction, flaming locks of red curls fanning over his flushed cheeks. Your smaller frame was engulfed in his shadow as he leaned forward, the mattress creaking softly as you watched his movements with a keen eye. He was always cautious around you, his movements always pronounced and defined, always terrified that you would startle like a frightened rabbit. You spread your sticky thighs apart, giving him as much room as you could possibly handle and gently pushing away the heads of his serpents when they tried to investigate with the curious flicker of their forked tongue. A warm tingle wracked the notches of his spine when a pleasant scent tickled his nose, curling deep into the pit of his lungs as he pressed closer to you. He released your foot from his grasp as his hands came to rest on either side of your body, pressing into the cool sheets as you silently took over the next few steps. 

Your hands came to rest on Messmer’s chest, feeling the tension still wound taut in his muscles as the rhythmic pulse of his heart beat thundered beneath your fingertips. A warm noise stirred in the back of your throat as your fingers danced along his torso, dipping into the various scars and imperfections of his body. You clicked your tongue behind your teeth as you softly tutted.

“My lord Messmer, you are so tense. Have you ever experienced a day of relaxation in your life?”

A thoughtful noise rumbled in Messmer's chest as he continued to humour your antics, enjoying the way you fussed over him as you tried to ease the tense knots in his muscles. It was a shockingly pleasant experience whenever he decided to give in to your every whim or fancy. He had quite the soft spot for you and he was wrapped so tightly around your finger it could be seen as pathetic how easily you won the heart of a demigod such as himself. He was stirred from his thoughts as you rubbed your hands across his abdomen, your fingernails gently scratching over pale scars as you peered up at him beneath long lashes. 

“It's alright, Messmer” you murmured. “You're not going to hurt me.”

Your words set his heart aflutter and you could tell just by the way the snakes coiled around your plump waist affectionately squeezed you. You idly smoothed your hands over their scaly bodies as Messmer leaned in close, lips pressed into the shell of your ear as red curls spilled over your skin like the fine touch of silk. His breath was warm as it puffed against your skin, causing the heat trickling in the pit of your stomach to twist tighter as a pleasant shiver raced along your back. 

“Thou wilt stop me if I overwhelm…”

You hummed as you nodded along to his words, head turned in his direction as you trailed butterfly kisses along his sharp jaw.

“I shall” you mumbled in agreement. 

His shoulders dropped in content but it was such a subtle movement that it slipped your gaze. Your hands were much too eager as they slipped between your bodies, Messmer giving you silent consent to continue and guide him forward. A sharp hiss whistled through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around hardened warmth, his cock eagerly jumping into the warm touch of your hand as you loosely coiled your fingers around him. His fingers knotted in the bedsheets; sweaty forehead pressed between the comforting confines of a soft pillow as you swiped your thumb over the tip of his drooling cock. You cooed softly as you slowly pumped your hand along his cock, warmth tickling the base of your spine as his breathing came out in soft pants from your mere touch alone. 

“My lord, you're so big~”

A soft groan tumbled from Messmer's bruised lips as he fought to peel his tongue off the roof of his mouth. His blood was already boiling in his veins from your soft, prodding caresses as he swallowed the budding saliva on his tongue, throat bobbing as his face burned like an inferno. 

“Cease thine teasing” he gently warned. 

His words may have been intimidating if he didn't sound so breathless. You bit your tongue and ignored the itch burning at the back of your scalp. You knew when to not push your lover too far and provoke his ire. Instead, you focused on curling your wrist, fingers squeezing around the fat head of his cock as beads of pre-cum dribbled and webbed between your fingers. A shaky breath fanned over your skin as you stared at the side of Messmer’s face, witnessing the flames of red dust over his cheeks under the dim fire light of burning candles. Your tongue wet your dry lips as you swallowed thickly. 

“Does it feel good?” you asked. 

“Y-yes” Messmer stammered in response. 

Hearing how breathless he was made slick pool between your legs, pearls of arousal dripping down the soft insides of your thighs as you squirmed restlessly. You wedged your free hand between your plump thighs, slipping two fingers inside your dripping cunt to alleviate the dull throb building up in your core. Your soft, sweet moans filled the stuffy air of your shared bed chambers, echoing around the room as they drowned out the sinful, wet noises that were coming from between your trembling thighs. The coil in your belly twisted tighter as you rocked your hips down onto your fingers, pussy hungrily swallowing them as impatience gnawed at your skin like a swarm of insects. And by the way Messmer was sinking his sharp claws into the comforter and stuffing the plush material of a pillow between his sharp teeth, the feeling was mutual. With a breathy sigh you slipped your fingers out of your sopping core, pussy clenching around nothing and mourning the loss of warmth. You rubbed your slicked fingers along Messmer's swollen arousal, coating his skin with more, sticky wetness. His body shuddered in response, voice muffled into the soft cotton of the pillow as he struggled to reign in the twitches and convulsions in his muscles. You stroked your fingers through his wild, red mane of hair, wisps curling around your fingers as you tucked them behind the curve of his ear. 

“My lord, I will require some of your assistance.”

He hesitated but allowed you to tug his hand free from the tangles of the sheets, guiding his wrist as you encouraged him to lay his hand on the curve of your hip. His fingers pressed into your skin, nails digging into the plump flesh as he held you. He had never felt something as soft as you before. It was fascinating, how his fingers could press and squish into your skin with such little effort and no resistance. He didn't ponder the thought long, as most coherent thoughts suddenly evaporated the second he felt the tip of his cock brush against the wet seam of your cunt. His fingers tensed in your skin, nails threatening to carve their mark as a raspy moan crawled its way out of his parched throat. Long lashes fluttered over his cheeks as his cock continued to prod at you, catching on your fluttering hole as your arousal dripped from your core like a flowing river. 

“Ready?” you asked, though you weren't quite sure who the question was directed at anymore.

A murmur of approval and it was all you needed to hear. You took a deep breath, yet the attempt was futile in preparing you as your pulse thrummed in your ears and your heart was ready to leap up into your throat. You choked on a hiccup of pleasure as you guided Messmer forward, his cock piercing your centre as your creamy folds parted around his dizzying girth. It took every ounce of his sapping strength in him not to rip apart at the seams at the first contact of your warm pussy wrapping snug around him. Even when he was coaxed just a little bit deeper inside he thought a vessel in his head was about to pop. You threw your head back with a loud whine, the sound almost akin to a wail of pain as the stretch burned with a lingering, familiar heat. The various pieces of fine silver and gold adorned to your body rattled as your entire being trembled in a mixture of bliss and overstimulation. Messmer paused as you took a shuddering breath, soused lashes fluttering wildly over your cheeks as your chest heaved with exertion.

“Fuck” you groaned; all sense of decorum snatched away as your head was sent spinning in a drunken tizzy. “Fuck.”

Messmer's ears itched as another whimper crawled out of the back of your throat, his hot breath fanning over your perspiring skin as a look of concern flashed over his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were quick to cut him off with a shake of your head. 

“It's fine, I'm fine” you reassured. “Just don't move.”

You threw your arm over your head, tucking your face into the crook of your elbows to hide the way your nose scrunched up in discomfort. Stars above, you were the one with more experience yet you were starting to feel like a bashful virgin all over again. Your head was spinning as a constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes, breathing hard as you tried to soothe the erratic beat of your heart. You blinked away the tears pricking your eyes as your arm was gently removed from your face, your dazed stare peering up at your lover as your head continued to spin. He cradled your hand in his much larger one, thick fingers curled around your wrist as you felt his snakes squeeze tight around you once more. 

“Hush, little culver” Messmer soothed, pressing his lips to the back of your hand and dragging the kiss swollen skin over each, individual knuckle. “Speak to me.”

A soft noise rolled around your mouth as you swallowed around the lump in your throat, a short, puff of air blowing a few strands of hair out of your glassy eyes.

“My darling Messmer, I'm fine” you croaked. “Just…haven't been stretched like this before.”

His concern made the throbbing dull and the longer you lay still the more you think you get used to it. You weren't completely sure how long you lay there. It could have been a few minutes. Perhaps it encroached on the hour? You weren't quite sure when the burning ache ebbed and twisted into something more pleasant but you welcomed the feeling as you settled once more. A deep sigh breezed through your lips as your heart settled once more and your lungs weren't pinching inside your chest. Your fingers twisted around one of Messmer's digits as you tugged on his hand once more, adamant to guide him and spark back the friction in your core. The curious tilt of Messmer's head caught your attention and your voice filled the void of silence once more as you flashed him a reassuring smile. 

“I'm fine my lord” you said. “You're just…a lot to get used to. Gods I feel like I'm the one having mine cherry popped all over again.”

Your mannerisms were always a unique enigma for Messmer and he couldn't help the curiosity that itched at the base of his skull as he repeated the word.

“Cherry?”

A soft giggle bubbled up your throat at the soft pout in his lips as he pondered on the meaning, only to be distracted when you guided his hand to the pillowy softness of your chest. You lay your hand on top of his as you encouraged him to feel your chest, your heart beat pulsing against the palm of his hand as he idly cupped your breast. His face flushed and you could feel his cock pulsing between your thighs as he gave your chest a curious squeeze. 

“I shall divulge the matter later, when mine head isn't spinning.”

You let your head fall back onto the pillow, eyes drooping and threatening to slip close as the smouldering embers of bliss in the pit of your stomach were stoked back into a fierce flame. Your voice stung in your throat as you moaned softly, hips canting forward as Messmer's cock was nudged a little deeper into your swollen pussy. A short huff fell from his mouth at the warm feeling of your plush walls squeezing around him, the hand groping your tit pawing at your skin a little firmer as the puffy tip of your nipple was pinched between his fingers. 

“Come closer” you beckoned. 

“If that is thy wish.”

You hummed as he buried his face in your hair, lips pressed into the soft tresses as you slowly buck your hips. The roll of Messmer's hips was hesitant and unsteady, inexperience seeping into the rhythm as he tried to mimic the way you tilted forward and leaned into the touch. He was much too reluctant to press deeper, no matter how tempting it was as your pussy squeezed around him with each shallow thrust. A breathy moan tumbled from your part lips as the pressure in your stomach spiked, blood boiling with bliss as you reached a shaky hand between your sticky thighs to rub at the swollen nub sitting at the top of your pussy. Messmer grunted as he felt you tighten around him, your plush walls almost strangling him as drool gathered at the corners of his mouth. You could feel the droplets wet your skin as you rubbed at the slick pearl of your clit, the tightly packed bundle of nerves kicking weakly as you rubbed it in firm circles. Your debauched sounds only grew louder, echoing off the walls as the bedframe shook and you trembled along with it. Stars swirled in your vision as you felt Messmer's cock start to throb inside of you, his rough pants morphing into the feral snarls of a beast as the tension readied to snap. You mustered what little remaining strength you had left as you carded your fingers through his hair before gripping to the locks tightly. 

“Close, love?” you asked between sweet moans. 

You received a loud grunt of affirmation as he squeezed your chest, nails raking along your skin and leaving behind stinging welts that added fuel to the maelstrom brewing inside of you. Your spit-soaked lips parted around a keen of his name as you tugged on his hair. 

“Proud of mine good boy for lasting this long” you crooned. “So why don't you let go?”

Your words were the trigger to his undoing. As soon as your voice graced his ears like a chime from a shimmering bell, the coil inside of him unfurled. The pace of his hips grinds to a halt as he grew still, trembling voice scratching his throat as he groaned your name so close to the shell of your ear it sent pleasant chills rattling down your spine. He almost pulled away from the sweet temptation of your body, but in the heat of the moment he failed and ropes of his viscous seed spilled inside of you. You whined with sordid content, the heat warming your abdomen occupying your hazy mind as your nerves zapped through your system like crackling lightning. Spit webbed on your plump lips as they parted around hot pants, fingers working the aching nub of your clit until your vision blurred from the bliss. The coil inside of you shattered into a million pieces, veins flooded with white hot relief as your pussy clenched unbearably tight around your lover.

The warmth stuffing your centre slowly dripped out, spilling down the sides of Messmer’s cock and staining the bedsheets beneath your entangled bodies. His hard pants mixed with your own laboured breathing and you struggled to prevent your eyes from rolling into the back of the head from how mind numbingly good you felt. Your wavering pulse was beating so loudly in your ears that you almost didn’t hear Messmer when he spoke, large hands wrapped around your waist as he touched you like you were made out of porcelain.

“Mine apologies” he whispered to you softly.

You didn’t ask what he was apologising for. You knew exactly what he was referring to and the sight of your lord showing a hint of bashfulness made the corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. You snorted softly as you rubbed your hands in soothing motions along his arms, hand tangling in his hair once more as you gently teased out the knots. You tipped your head and gazed at him through lidded eyes, exhaustion setting into your bones despite your best efforts to stay awake. You shifted beneath him, falling into a more comfortable position as the weeping head of his softening cock continued to leave sticky threads in the creamy folds of your messy cunt. Your fingers curled around the baby hairs lining the nape of his neck, nails scratching at his skin as the snakes coiled around you tucked their heads into the crook of your neck.

“There’s no need for apologies, Lord Messmer” you reassured. “It pleases me.”

You lay still beneath him as his hands slowly wandered over your form, his touch a little more confident as he explored the dips and curves carved into your features. The curious touch of his hands dulled your mind with the repetitive motions and it was threatening to lull you in the sweet embrace of slumber the longer you remained idle. You couldn’t find the strength in you to move any longer, much too content to let Messmer poke and prod at your skin with mild fascination tingling on the tips of his fingers.

“Did I please you, my Lord?” you inquired, voice slurring as your eyes slipped close for a brief moment.

You heard Messmer’s soft hum of approval and you couldn’t recall much after that, only the way you were coddled in Messmer’s embrace and warmed during the cold night.

[callahanisms]

favorite person

for @shinyanchorface because i know you went feral over the pics and now we got a trailer. also this is definitely not historically accurate so please do not come for me. am i sure how things were done back then? absolutely not. this is just for fun.

character: marcus acacius

content warning: smut. consensual sex. by pressing read more, you consent to viewing sexual content.

word count: 1k words

"There you are. You're late."

"I apologize." You set down your bowl, towel, strigil, and the oil pitcher by the table. "I was...preoccupied." It was true. You would not dare lie to him. "It won't happen again."

"The Emperor?"

You don't look up from the table. Your hands twitch slightly and your heart pounds against your ribcage. You can feel the tile of the table. Smooth with small crevices, the surface being chipped away by its constant usage. Your finger runs over it, feeling the ragged edges. If you press your finger down hard enough, the crevice will leave you with an imprint on your skin.

"Perhaps." You answer.

There's a small sigh. "Well he doesn't matter. Just come over here."

You finally look up. The general still has his armor on. He's covered in dirt. You walk over, steps rather quiet. Your fingers rest on his shoulder as you walk around to be behind him. Then you begin to undo the straps holding his armor together, gently removing it from his body. He slouches a little bit and lets out a breath. A weight had been taken off of his chest, literally.

Marcus shivers with the grazing of your fingertips against his skin. He lets you strip him down until he's bare. You keep your eyes away. He found your aversion to him cordial.

You have someone else fill the private bath and remove the cork from the pitcher yourself. You pour some oil onto his shoulders and begin to rub it into his skin. There's a new bruise on his body, making him wince when you touch it. And beneath your fingers, you feel the raised skin of scars.

You pick up your bowl and strigil and begin to scrape his upper body. Your touch is gentle and he could feel the metal pressing hard against his skin. "Harder. I know you can do it." He says, his voice gruff.

You apply more pressure as you scrape the oil off his body and into the bowl. His skin leaves a pink tint from the places you've scraped. with his upper body done, you begin to lather his legs in oil, scraping the mixture into the bowl. You move upwards, keeping your eyes away from...well, between his legs. "You're my favorite." The general speaks.

You look up at him from between his legs. His tongue darts over his lips. "General?"

"I said...you're my favorite." His hand snakes to the back of your neck, causing goosebumps to form all over. "I prefer it when they scrape hard."

"I know you prefer to be clean, general. You've had a long day." You continue scraping, trying to avoid what lied just between his legs.

You finished scraping and cleaning him thoroughly, setting the strigil and bowl aside. "Join me."

"General?"

"Join me. In the bath." He walks over to the tub and steps in. Marcus slowly sinks into the steaming water, letting out a groan. His muscles relax and he feels at ease. Marcus rests his arms against the edge of the bath, looking at you expectantly.

"I'm not...I'm not clean." You shake your head.

"So? Just join me (Y/N)."

You can't deny that the steam coming out of the water was looking rather tempting. And then the general. Legs spread, a gorgeous face profile, and a strong nose, his muscles popping. You shed your clothes and step into the bath with him, sinking into the water. You could feel your muscles creak and your bones pop as you stretch a little bit.

Marcus watches you rub the water over your skin. "Come closer. I don't bite."

You look at him before inching closer to him. A small gasp leaves you when he grabs your waist and pulls you atop of him. "I like seeing your body."

"General..."

"Just call me Marcus." His hands stroke your sides. "We're close enough. You've seen all of me. And now...I see all of you~" He leans forward, lips pressing against yours. And his facial hair tickles your skin. You push back against him, moving with his rhythm and parting your lips to let his slide past them. He explores your mouth with his tongue, caressing the roof and tasting you.

"Come on. Spread." He groans. You straddle him, aligning your throbbing hole with his already hard cock. You can feel his tip pressing against you. "Go slow. There's no rush."

You feel yourself stretch out as you begin to sink yourself onto him. Gasps escaping. Marcus can't help but moan, feeling your walls cling to him. They felt so heavenly. You felt heavenly. He wanted to be inside you. He begins to thrust upwards into you, hands trailing down to your hips. His fingers dig into your soft skin. Supple and soft and tight too. You begin to ride him, rolling your hips. "Marcus! Oh Marcus!" Your own fingers dig into his shoulders.

Marcus leans forward, lips peppering kisses along your neck and nibbling at your skin. He sucks hard, leaving hickeys and his tongue traces circles on your bruises. You move your hips faster, feeling him thrust upwards. It was ecstatic, the way his cock was stretching you and sliding in and out. Your hands slowly trail to his back, fingers nails digging into his cleaned skin. The water ripples all around you, splashing out of the tub.

"(Y/N)! You feel so good!" He buries his face in your neck, his body tightening up as your stomach's growing knot comes undone. Your toes curl, Marcus grips you tighter. You want to scream with absolute pleasure.

You feel extra warm, his cum filling you up. And you cum all over him. The ripples in the tub calm, your breathing heavy and face flushed. The general looks up at you, drunk on pleasure, drunk on your scent, drunk on feeling you. "You're my favorite." Marcus mutters.

"You're my favorite too." You run your hand through his hair, feeling how soft it was.

"Let me clean you up~"

[iouinotes]

Good gone bad I Coriolanus Snow (part three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x female!reader

movie: Hunger Games - Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

warnings: toxic, smut, arguments

summary: After months of denying your feelings for him, you finally give in. Or more, he makes you.

author’s note: I thought I wouldnt do a third part, but I guess I was wrong. Anyway, here comes another one!

part one , part two

I see all kinds of emotions in the crowd.

Envy, hatred, idolization, fear.

Can literally feel how their eyes are staring at me, their thoughts so loud that I can hear how much they doubt me.

I as the first lady of Panem, wife of President Coriolanus Snow. Fearless, unpredictable, beautiful.

I try my best not to pay attention to him. Try to maintain the facade, to pretend worship and love. While he stands next to me, higher on the pedestal, more powerful with every word. I, on the other hand, am silent.

Smiling, while my hair is disheeved by the strong wind. Feel the cold on my skin, despite the expensive fabric of my clothes. No one can see how much much tears I’ve shed, every little imperfection is covered by makeup.

His voice sounds loudly all over the kingdom and my heart beats faster out of fear, when his hand goes around my hip. He pulls me close to him, my breathing quickens while he maintains the illusion.

As if I were worth something by his side, although in reality I am only a prize that he has won violently. Hypocritically even.

“My beautiful first lady. My sunshine, the sun for whole Panem. With her presence, I testify to the announcement for the next Hunger Game. Even if the war was years ago, it will never be forgotten. Not my actions, the deeds of a president who does everything to preserve humanity. Remember my words when you think about wishing for peace.”

Loud, roaring applause. Adorable glances towards him, excitement in her eyes, the urge for watching torture and torment trough the games. The little children, some scared, some grinning terribly.

When he steps down in front of me, he won’t let me go, keeps me tied to him. Looks complacent and calm, as if he has the world under control. The world, the people and me. Everyone kneels down in front of him, some voluntarily, many forced.

As soon as the doors close, silence sounds in his office. A glance of him and the employees leave the room, bow to his authority and the fear of his power.

The door closes loudly and it is the last sound I need to hear for me to tear me away from him. To take his hands off me and put so much distance between us so that I can keep lying to myself. To pretend that everything is just a game. A false truth and I could go, flee from him.

Even if I know, that I will never be able to.

“You do that every time, my dear. And I tell you every time for eternity. You can’t escape me. Come here, now.“ I see him sitting on his chair with complete serenity, which is more like a throne, just as his title feels.

I form my hands into fists, detest the way he controls me. My words, my actions, my feelings, my whole life.

“I don’t want to be in your presence for even a second longer. You make me sick.“ His face adorns a smile. His eyes, on the other hand, show his desire to make me bow to him. His desire for my submission, that my heart beats for him again. As it once has.

“Your hatred will be of no use to you. Do you still not understand it? You belong to me. Either you recognize it voluntarily or the winter breaks down faster than you think.“

All emotions disappear from my face and I try desperately to suppress my tears at his threat to poison me. The memory still painfully aware in my mind, every time I close my eyes.

So I swallow my pride, my anger and my inability to destroy him. With my chin raised and a grim look, I slowly approach him. Look at him defiantly, can literally see how the satisfaction spreads in him when I follow his words. See his eyes glide over my body as I get closer to him.

When I stop in front of him, one step away from him, too close, but too far for him to touch me. My only weapon, my only protection. To make him angry. To show him that I will never submit voluntarily, even while following his requests.

„Closer.“ His cold tone makes my shoulders tense, while my heels clack on the floor and goosebumps spread on my skin. As I step closer to him, I do everything in my power not to give in to him. His touch, his warmth, his attempts to bring me to my knees.

His fingers stroke over the fabric of my dress, his gaze however rests on my face.

“I know you. How much longer do you want to pretend you don’t want me?“ His deep voice pierces trough my heart, his attentive gaze recognizes every flaw as he tries to decipher me.

“I don’t want you.“ My words make him grin. As I continue to look down at him, I see an idea forming in his head. See how he straightens up casually on his chair and looks deep into my eyes.

“Is that so? And if I touch you?“ His two hands lie around my waist, slowly pulling me closer to him until I stand right in front of him. The sparkle in his eyes, the bright blue makes me unintentionally unfocused. I hate how insecure he makes me.

But I stay strong. Keep raising my chin, not moving a finger, not giving in.

“Nothing.“ The grin on his lips distracts me as memories haunt my mind how it was to kiss him. I try not to let my desire for him be noticed, while I keep telling myself that I don’t want that. Don’t want him.

“What about now?“ His hands stroke my body, it almost hurts to be touched again after all the months I stayed away from him. My heart beats so incredibly fast.

Slowly his hands are running to my legs. Over the end of my airy dress, turn the fabric in his hands until he slowly pushes it up. My breath gets caught in my throat when the cold air hits my exposed skin.

Excruciatingly slowly he pushes the fabric up, along my legs. His fingers caress my soft skin. I have to suppress a tremor when my dress is rolled up to my hip, my underwear now on display for him.

The hungry look in his eyes makes my knees weak. God, don’t give in. Don’t think about how good his touch feels. How good he could make me feel.

My eyes pinch together as his fingers turn around my panties and play with the expensive silk. He doesn’t say anything, I can only hear his breathing change. Hear my loud heartbeat. Jump slightly when his warm breath floats over my skin.

My eyes open abruptly as he puts his mouth on the inside of my thighs. I breathe in audibly when he leaves kisses there, when he starts to suck on the skin and leave his mark.

“You will think of me when you look at yourself in the mirror, doll. With my tracks, you look even more beautiful.“ I bite my teeth together as his mouth moves higher.

“I never think about you.“ His rough laughter almost makes me squeeze my thighs. His warm mouth ghosts over my middle, his fingers curl around the black fabric.

„We both know that this is a lie.“ When his hand pulls down my panties, I forget to breathe for a moment.

The air hits me and I shudder, whether because of the cold or his breath that he blows on me, I try to ignore both.

“You disgust me.“ My voice sounds less convincing the closer his mouth comes me. His fingers strip my underpants down my legs until I hear it hitting the floor.

“Then why are you so wet for me?“ His finger claws into my skin while his nose strokes my folds. I hiss quietly while my hands try not to hit him in the face.

“I’m thinking of a man who has more honor than you ever could.“ A scream wants to escape me as his left hand shoots up and squeezes my neck. So tight that I can hardly breathe.

Scaringly quietly, he whispers to me.

“I wonder how you always manage to make me so angry. I know that every word that escapes your delicate lips is a lie. You just want me to give in. Because you can’t stand how much you need my touch. How much you need me.“

Angry, I look into his eyes.

“I don’t need you.“ He smiles as his free hand collects my wetness, stroking his thumb over my clitoris. My eyes role into my head when he inserts a finger into me.

“Liar. You say you don’t want me, but your pussy screams for more. Do you hear that? That’s the sound of your submission.“ His finger hits my sweet spot, while sinful sounds of his touches fill the room.

„You sick, psychopathic- ahh“ the pressure around my neck gets stronger when he inserts two more fingers into me. The pain as they stretch me, make black dots appear in my view. Making me see nothing but darkness, before everything becomes white when he makes me come.

“I think you just come on my fingers, doesn’t that feel like sweet revenge?“ Everything in me wants to hold onto him. Instead, I put my hands on the desk behind me to stabilize myself.

“Are your knees already getting weak? I’m not done with you yet.“ My legs almost break away when he pushes his fingers deeper into me and when I regain my vision, my whole world turns.

Then, without me really realizing it, his tongue licks over my folds and my mouth opens in pleasure, while high moans leave my divided lips.

I feel him grinning at me, wanting to tear him away from me, but then his tongue slides into me and it feels like heaven. My thoughts forget for a moment my inner dichotomy and in this moment of forgetting, my hand lays itself on his head. My fingers burying themselves in his blonde curls.

Pulling his hair while I pull him closer to me. Closer, closer, more and more. But just as my head wants to blackout, when he is about to win me over because I want to beg, begging for more, his words make me open my eyes. Hating every second that he breathes.

“I like you better when you push yourself so desperately against my tongue.“ Almost immediately I change my strong grip around his hair. Instead of pushing him against me, I tear his head away from me with full force. It hits him so unexpectedly that he moves away from me. But the look he gives at me, dripping with anger, is nothing in contrast to my hatred.

“Leave me alone.“ I flinch in shock when he gets up and buries his fingers, which are still inside me, to the limit in me.

Painfully, my eyes close when I want to escape his touch. But he only stands threateningly over me, his gaze so evil that he almost scares me.

,,So ungrateful, my sweet wife. How many times do I have to remind you that I’m in control, mh? I control you, not the other way around.“ Shaking my head, I try to contradict him, but with each further thrust of his fingers, my thoughts dissolve a little more.

“I hate you-“ his lips, which attack my neck, make my heartbeat double, make my heart feel something else.

“You hate me? Do you also hate how good it feels that I finger you? Do you hate how good my cock would feel in you now? Or have you already forgotten that? Maybe I should remind you.“ His teeth strip my skin, leaving red marks while he pulls his fingers out of me, leaving me empty.

I need a moment to notice what circumstance I am in right now. Annoyed, I bite my teeth together, jump off the pedestal while I desperately try to pull up my dress.

“Fuck, no. Keep your dirty fingers away from me-“ but before I can run out of the room, before I’m even two steps away from him, his hand brutally grabs my arm. Pulls me back, only to press me painfully, with my chest, against the pedestal.

His breath runs strenuously over my neck when I hear his sarcastic voice in my ear.

“You already want to go? That’s bad luck, because I won’t allow it.“ Once again, his hand rests around my neck, squeezes until I am out of breath, even as I try to escape his grip with my remaining strength.

“Relax, darling. All you have to do is spread your legs. You should be used to that by now.“ His mean words make writhing with hatred and when I hear the rustling behind me, hear him pull down his pants, I can do nothing more than humiliate him.

“Oh yes, I am. But more for the staff in the house than for your pathetic actions.“ Without me being able to prevent it, his hand meanders between my legs and squeezes them apart. So far that it is almost painful.

But I only recognize what my words have triggered in him when he buries himself in me in a strong thrust of his hips. The sound that escapes my throat must be heard for the whole building.

His arm presses me painfully against the hard wood as his hand grips my neck firmly, while he ruthlessly trusting into me without giving me a second to breath.

“I could kill you for your words. Do you hear me? If you say these words one more time, think of them, I won’t hesitate to finally take the last breath away from you. Do you understand me?“ I don’t want to nod, I don’t want to give in.

“Then kill me! Save me your empty words, you bastard.“ When he leans against me, he presses himself so deep into me that I feel his cock deep into my stomach. I can’t breathe, my vision blurs in front of my eyes when he fucks me even harder.

“You think you’re so clever, mh? But you don’t escape me, not even with death. You belong to me. Your body, your thoughts, your deeds, your heart. You are not here to love me, you are here to serve me. And if you refuse, I’ll make you do it.“ He pulls me back by my hair as he pushes me further and I hate the way his words make me wet. The way he makes me his slut, how I try to deny it while he is in the process of using me as he wishes.

“But maybe you want exactly that. You don’t want me to be nice and patient, do you? You want me to use you, even if you refuse acknowledge it. I’m right, because why else aren’t you begging me to stop?“

My eyes are rolling inside my head when I finally give in. When I allow myself to relax my body, open my legs further to let his cock trust into me even deeper.

„You useless, little thing. Do you finally have what you always wanted? In public, so brave and proud, always pretending to be a queen. But in reality you just want to be used, mh? Don’t worry, I’ll do that.“ Every push, every mean word, makes me continue to digress from reality until I no longer know what to think.

Then his hands lay around my upper body and pull me against his chest, he makes me moan against his body while I no longer suppress my sounds.

“I-I hate you“ his dark laugher makes me drop my head on his shoulder while my walls clench around his cock.

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you want me to fuck you. But we both know well enough that the only thing you hate, is the fact, how much your heart beats for me.“ With his last push, he lets me see white and I come so hard on his cock that I almost faint. All the last few months in which I have forbidden myself to get close to him. To give in to his touches. All for nothing, just to come on his cock now.

The deep moan that escapes him when he comes into me is a sound that will burn into my memory forever. God, if he’s such an asshole, why is he so hot? On the other hand, if he can’t be fixed by me, what’s stopping me from fucking him?

When he leans his body on me, the wood presses deeper into my skin. His breath strokes over my neck as he lets his lips roam over my shoulder. Gentle kisses distributed there. The flutter in my heart as his hand gently turns my head to wrap my lips in a kiss feels almost painful.

The way his tongue strokes over my lips, slides into my mouth, while his other hand strokes over my stomach. Over the place where his cock causes a bump, making me moan softly.

This time I don’t refuse his touch, slowly kissing him back. Enjoying the moment. Forgetting who I am, who he is. How much I try to hate him.

“Fuck, why did it take you so long to return my kiss?“ His mouth touches my neck while my eyes close tiredly.

Gone are his rough touches, the mean words and even though I know that he uses his charm to win me back, the moment feels too good not to give in.

“Stop talking, Snow. Before I change my mind.“ Grinning, he sluggishly moves his cock in me, making me moan while I open my mouth. Just for him to put his finger in my mouth to silence myself.

“Shh, don’t ruin it. You can’t get enough of me.“ When I let my tongue circle around his finger, he presses against it until I can no longer move it. His cock twitches in me when he notices our position.

I, full of his cock, bent over his table, while his finger in my mouth prevents me from speaking. Grinning, he slides a second finger into my mouth and I do my best to breathe through my nose.

When he bends over me, I hear him whispering triumphantly into my ear.

,,I won, darling. Snow lands on top. Every single time.“

[nakakabaliw]

This New Year, Shed your Old Skin!

(This is for a school.publication hence the watermark ^^ the writing is made by my lobely colleague and this art is meant to be an accompanied piece to it. Poem down below!)

The shedding of old skin

Written by: Vihaan

Every year, I would walk through the bathroom.

Every moment, I would look at my reflection.

Every second, my skin would feel dry that an itch curled.

Every look, it would rip and call for the resurrection.

Such old skin was left behind on the floor.

Every piece of my body is ripped like a snake.

I am then greeted by a new life who once awaited for this moment,

For it can't wait for the reality to shake.

The skin holds my memories.

The memories of being touched,

The memories of the ones I touch.

What a nostalgic view,

How ironic it is to be left behind and renewed?

Look at my skin, I am glowing that I call the heavens above,

I feel alive for the first time like the light calling the truest dove.

As I heard fireworks outside,

I smiled and tasted the bliss of gratitude.

Who knows what this new skin will hold?

Who knows? Maybe I will have the greatest future.

[the-sunflower-room]

✧akutagawa with a s/o who doodles on him ✧

akutagawa x fem!reader headcanons

☆note: i am a chronic doodler (art major moment, everybody point and laugh) and i was thinking about how cute it would be if akutagawa had a s/o who loves to doodle on him, so here it is! please enjoy lovelies xoxo

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-for starters, akutagawa is pretty much stoic and cold with 98% of the human population

-he’s just a serious guy with major rbf what can i say

-to the rest of the world, he’s the terrifying mafioso in black who brings death and destruction wherever he goes

-but to his significant other, he’s just her “sweet ryu” as she likes to call him

-in the privacy of their home he sheds his role as the mafia devil and takes on the role of doting boyfriend

-he has such a soft spot for her it’s crazy

-anyways

-she has this little habit of doodling anywhere and everywhere

-on her arms, on napkins, on corners of paper

-she’s always drawing little hearts or stars or characters—you name it

-whatever she’s feeling at the moment

-eventually she gets brave enough to draw a little heart on the back of akutagawa’s hand one day

-he’s just reading on the couch with one hand resting on his thigh and suddenly feels a pen pressing into his skin

-he starts to protest but she’s so focused and content while she’s working on it that he leaves it be and goes back to his book

-she expects him to humor her for a little while and then wipe it off eventually

-she’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s still there as they’re getting ready for bed that night

-the next day he walks around the port mafia and goes about his very serious business with a little heart on his hand

-she notices how he refuses to wash it off and can’t help how giddy it makes her

-takes it as a sign to do it more often

-it becomes a therapeutic thing for both of them

-they’ll just be sitting on the couch, watching a show together or something, and she’s just mindlessly doodling on his hand or arm

-he tries sooo hard to hide his smile

-will prob turn away and cough into his other hand to cover up the stupid lovesick grin on his face

-totally denies it when she questions him

-he’s a feared member of the port mafia, of course he’s not completely enamored with the silly little drawings she’s lovingly inking onto his skin (yeah ok)

-she knows he loves it

-some days she’s feeling more ambitious and colors in some of her doodles with markers or colored pens

-“it’s like i’m giving you little tattoos! they totally make you look more badass” (she says as she draws a snake with a cowboy hat on his wrist)

-he secretly adores seeing all of the creative designs she comes up with

-when he walks around with the doodles on his skin it’s like he’s carrying a little piece of her with him

-if anyone in the pm catches a glimpse of his hands and dares to say something about the colorful ink, he immediately snaps at them

-“why don’t you mind your business and stop wasting air with stupid questions, you pathetic imbecile”

-this man is so whipped and protective ok

-like he hates pretty much everyone but her

-will defend his s/o till the day he dies and do anything to make her happy

-and i mean anything

-even if that means having a poorly draw cat peeking out from under his sleeve during a Very Important Meeting with mori :)

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[kiss-me-cill-me]

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 4

Start with Pt. 1 HERE! ~ Jump back to previous Pt. 3 HERE!

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Smut below the cut, very light manhandling, dirty talk, praise, overall just gentle Neil being an adorable dork

A/N: This is sort of a bonus chapter that is just pure fluffy smut. There is no plot to be found, so if you were here for the story and not the smut, you can safely skip this entire part. But if you are here for the smut, welcome lol. Either way, thank you to everyone for your support on this fluffy little story! I had a lot of fun writing it and am kind of sad it's over, but this is definitely not the last of Neil that you'll be seeing from me ;)

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

The walk to Neil’s house was short, but felt like an eternity. It was you who did most of the teasing that made the journey so painfully long. 

Neil tried to put his arm around your shoulder as you walked, and you shoved a hand into his back pocket. At least three separate times, you made him pull over so you could kiss him and run your hands over any and all parts of his body you could reach. It was probably a relief for him when you finally made it to his front porch; he had been walking hunched over for the last five minutes, trying in vain to hide his erection. 

As soon as Neil had the lock undone, you were pushing him inside, barely taking time to kick the door closed behind you. You had never visited Neil’s house before, but it was easy enough to find your way to the living room and shove him down onto the sofa. He sat up, resting his back against the cushions.

“Wow - you’re, ah, eager,” Neil laughed, watching as you climbed to sit on top of him.

“Mm-hmm” you hummed, already starting to unbutton his flannel.

You had both shed your winter gear and boots in the course of finding your way to the couch, but Neil’s shirt was still in the way. You’d managed to pull off your own top already, and Neil’s fingers ghosted over your skin as you straddled him.

“We can stop if you want,” you whispered, pausing after you’d popped the last button.

“No! No, no,” Neil said hurriedly. “I just… didn’t realize you liked me this much.”

His eyes were bright even in the dark - you hadn’t bothered to flip on any of the lightswitches - and they looked up at you now, practically swimming with desire. 

“Well, good,” you murmured. “Because I don’t really want to stop.”

Neil swallowed heavily, and you reached back to unclasp your bra. His eyes followed your movements, widening when the garment dropped away.

“Also, I’m cold from being outside,” you complained.

As if to prove your point, you placed your frigid hands on Neil’s bare skin, gripping his sides lightly where his shirt had fallen open.

“Jesus Christ!” Neil gasped, jumping from your icy touch. “I mean, ah… c’mere; I’ll warm you up.”

He was learning, slowly but surely, how to take a hint. Neil held your wrists and brought your fingers up to his lips, kissing them. His warm breath felt nice, and you melted a little as he pressed a kiss to each of your fingers. He gently placed your hands flat on his chest, letting go to wrap his arms snug around your hips as he pulled you closer to him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, lips brushing against yours.

You nodded. Neil’s hands traveled up your sides, pausing to hold onto the narrowest point of your waist. You ground your hips down onto his, biting at his lip as you did, causing his fingers to tighten momentarily. Then he continued, letting his hands wander until they had cupped your breasts. His fingers were surprisingly warm as they squeezed you, and you felt yourself moan against his mouth.

You brought your own hands up to push Neil’s flannel further off his shoulders, kneading and feeling up his arms as you made out. Sighing, you pulled away to take a deeper breath of air, and Neil’s hands snaked around to your back, pressing you closer as he kissed the hollow between your breasts. He was so gentle; sensual even amidst your desperation to tear him out of his clothes.

Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you, Neil stood up and carried you with him. Your legs wrapped, shakily, around his waist. You kissed him again as he carried you through the house, finally letting you fall gently onto his mattress. His sheets were a mess, you noticed, like he hadn't bothered with making the bed this morning.

Neil shrugged the rest of the way out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. You scrambled to unbutton your jeans, and Neil helped you out of them, fingers raking down your legs as he pulled off the tight fabric. He fell down to kiss at your collar bone, then let his lips wander all over your body. His hands found your thighs, and he pulled you a little closer to his hips at the edge of the bed. Your back arched.

“It’s cute how you get all excited when I throw you around,” he muttered.

The feel of his lips against your skin made you squirm when he spoke. You felt a brief flash of embarrassment that he had noticed the way being carried and pulled turned you on, but the feeling quickly faded. You did like the way he handled you, gentle but authoritative. Neil slipped a finger under the hem of your panties. 

“Can I take these off?” he asked.

“Yes,” you sighed, lifting your hips to make it easier for him to slide them down.

Now, you were completely naked. Neil took a moment to look down at you, erection still straining uncomfortably against his pants. He stared directly at your core, and even in the dim light you could see the way his eyes glistened darkly at the sight of it.

“Remember when I said you were pretty earlier?” Neil breathed.

You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed all over again. Neil was a bit more assertive in the bedroom than you had anticipated he would be. It was a welcome surprise, but it had you flustered. Maybe it was just the way that you had already started to fall apart at the feel of his strong hands all over your body that gave him the confidence. 

You heard the sounds of Neil shuffling out of his pants, a condom wrapper tearing, and then felt his palm spread your legs open just a little wider, making space for his hips to slot between yours.

You peered out from behind your fingers, and then lowered them from your face. Neil was fumbling in the dark, trying to line himself up. Suddenly, he slipped an arm under your waist and pulled you up, flipping so that he was beneath you. You could feel him pressing up against your folds, not quite pushing into you yet.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” Neil purred, and you melted a little more.

You lowered yourself down onto him, sighing as he split you open. He was bigger than you had anticipated, too, and it took you a moment to adjust. 

“Oh, Neil,” you breathed, as he finally slipped fully inside of you.

Neil reached up to hold the back of your neck and pull you down into a kiss. When he broke away, he murmured softly against your lips.

“Love the way your pussy feels, wrapped around me.”

“Mmm, yeah. Feels good,” you agreed, humming.

“Want me to move?” Neil asked.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. He felt amazing, just filling you up like this. When he held you and helped you to bounce up and down - measured but powerful, his hips thrusting up to meet you whenever he pulled you in - you felt yourself starting to go weak in his arms.

“Neil…” you whispered.

“Hm?’

“Want you on top of me.”

You didn’t have to ask twice. Neil flipped you over again, not bothering to pull out as he pressed you into the mattress. One of his hands bent your leg to the side, guiding you softly open so that he could hit a different angle. The spot he was rubbing inside drove you crazy, and you threw your head back with every slow, rhythmic thrust.

“Love how you’re squeezing me,” gasped Neil.

You hadn’t been doing it consciously, until now, but you clenched your muscles and Neil groaned in ecstasy. That was more like how you’d imagined he’d sound in bed. Desperate. Needy. And like he just might fall apart at any second. You squeezed him again. 

“Fuck, baby, you don’t want me to last long, do you?”

The strain in Neil’s voice had you purring; bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck as he held you still and kept pressing into you. He was going slow, but every drag of his hips made you claw at him, desperate for the pressure.

“Ah! Heh, jeez, your feet are cold, too,” Neil laughed, jumping again as your toes brushed against his leg.

He reached to pull the covers over you, wrapping the two of you up in a bundle of warm limbs and breathy moans. You held onto him even tighter.

“Neil, m’close,” you whined.

“Me too.”

He didn’t change his pace at all as he continued to press into you, one hand back on your leg tracing soft circles; the other resting by your arm, caging you slightly. Every thrust hit that spot inside of you - the one that made you cross your eyes and curl your toes.

“Neil,” you gasped. 

“Mm, say my name when you come, baby.”

And you did, a little louder and more desperately than you had intended to - but Neil only seemed to drink it up. His hips started to stutter as you squeezed him even tighter. Finally, Neil thrust deep inside you, and moaned as his orgasm overtook him.

Neil pulled away from you to breathe heavily, propping himself with his arms while you were both still tangled up in the sheets. You pulled him back down to give him a kiss, and he moved his hand up your leg, past your hip, before finally coming to rest at your waist. 

“You warm enough?” Neil nestled both of you into the blankets as he spoke.

“Mmmm.”

“So, does this mean you owe me a drink, or I owe you a movie?” he joked.

You were slightly breathless, too, but you pulled together enough stamina to quip back.

“Neil, are you insinuating that you want to pay me for sex?” you teased.

“Hey, VHS tapes aren’t legal tender or anything. I think it would hold up in a court of law.”

“Hm, I’m pretty sure you owe me a movie then.” Your head pressed back into his pillow as your eyes drifted shut before continuing. “But this time you should watch it with me.”

“Whatever gets me an excuse to see you,” Neil teased, kissing the tip of your nose.

���Neil, you can see me anytime you want,” you laughed, eyes cracking open to look at him.

“Good.”

Neil’s arms wrapped around you, holding you softly as his warm breath tickled your face. You felt his weight as he sank down just a little more, getting comfortable. His lips pressed a lazy kiss against your cheek, once, twice, three times. You smiled, imagining all of the passions that you and Neil had left to share.

[iwrite-xo]

-- Healing sucks ass.

" I don’t think people truly understand what healing feels like until they’ve gone through it themselves. "

⋆✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Why am I crying at 2 PM simply because I happened to come across a meme they would have loved? Seriously, what kind of fool am I to miss and long for someone who is perfectly fine without me in their life? The worst part is that, at the end of the day, my heart somehow manages to hold on to love for that particular person. I gave up trying to understand my heart a long time ago. Despite attempting to lead with my brain and remain logical, my heart ends up winning arguments 90% of the time, if not 100%.

Whether it be friendships or even romantic interests, it always ends in heartbreak. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the character development I go through later on. That’s a whole other topic to write about, but in short, I feel like a brand-new person.

It’s comparable to a snake shedding its old skin to unveil its striking new pattern, but significantly healthier. I completely understand that life is a constant cycle filled with new experiences and eventually learning to let them go once they’ve served their purpose. But the pain that comes with it? The hurt you have to endure for months on end, wondering when it will finally cease?

I don’t think people truly understand what healing feels like until they’ve gone through it themselves. The constant overthinking about whether or not I made the right choice by letting them go for my own sanity. The urge to reach out to them overpowers any rational thinking. When you finally reach out and things don’t turn out as you wished, you can feel your heart shatter. It’s as if the universe confirms that your time with them has truly ended.

The feeling of your heart constricting in agony due to the heavy realization that you might never encounter them again. The constant replaying of past memories and desperately wishing you could relive them one more time before they slip away. The random breakdowns and confusion as to why that is, especially when you’ve finally been doing okay. The entire journey of it all is this huge pit of never-ending suffering, and at times, it feels impossible to even get out of bed.

So in case you needed to hear this today, healing isn’t linear. It never is and never will be. You will have to go through hell and back with the anguish that comes along with it. It is okay to feel helpless and realize that, despite healing not being an easy journey, it somehow always ends up being one you can reminisce about down the road. Remember, you will never heal by going back to what broke you. Never.

please do support me by reblogging! Thank you!! <33 hope you enjoyed!

[annoyinglyhardsong]

Codywan Week 2024: Day 7 Service Top

Author Note: Here is my prompt fill for Day 7 for @codywanweek. It's hella late but here it is! Not beta'd at all so sorry for any continuity issues. Enjoy some hopefully mushy emotional sex. As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! Divider by @saradika-graphics, if you are looking for any cute graphics or dividers they have tons of amazing ones!

Warnings/Tags: NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, gay sex, consensual sex, bottom Obi-Wan, top Cody, kissing, flustered Obi-Wan.

They rarely ever had moments like this and Cody was going to make the most of it while he could. 

They were back on Coruscant with two weeks of leave as rest and relaxation. After a few drinks with the boys at 79’s the General had been eager to get home and have Cody all to himself, and Cody felt the same way.

Having private quarters on The Negotiator made it easier for late night cuddles and more intimate moments, but each time always felt rushed and it was a miracle if they weren’t interrupted. But with two weeks off with no responsibilities, they would be able to fully relax and enjoy each other in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. And Cody was just as eager for it as Obi-Wan. 

The general’s hands and lips were on him as soon as the door to Obi-Wan’s quarters in the temple closed behind them. One arm snaked up around Cody’s shoulders to pull the man closer, the other slipped to the back of his head to tangle in the short hair and curls that were found there, all the while Obi-Wan’s lips attacked Cody’s leaving the occasional nibble. 

Cody slipped both of his arms around the General’s waist drawing the older man flush against himself causing the other man to let out a small gasp. Cody took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the General’s mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Obi-Wan, eager to move things along, started fumbling with the clasps on the upper half of Cody’s armor. Discarding it as they awkwardly stumbled towards the bedroom. Finally freeing his Commander’s torso, Obi-Wan ran his hands over the planes of Cody’s chest and torso, appreciating the feel of the solid muscle even through the material of his upper blacks. 

Growing impatient, Cody scooped Obi-Wan up in his arms, the gingers legs coming to wrap around a trim waist, as one hand came down to cup a toned ass as sure legs finally carried them to the bedroom. 

Cody laid Obi-Wan gently down on the bed. His codpiece grinding lightly into his lover’s almost painfully hard dick, causing Obi-Wan to let out a wanton moan. Breaking their kiss, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan’s limbs, and took a step back to finish shedding himself of his armor and blacks, admiring the panting Jedi still spread out across their bed. 

“I-,” he started a little breathlessly, dropping to his knees in front of the still fully clothed Jedi, “am going to absolutely worship you tonight.”

Obi-Wan had propped himself up on his elbows to stare at his lover, quirking an eyebrow in question. He had thought that based off of the initial tone the night had set that their lovemaking would be hard and fast and rough, but it seemed Cody had different ideas he was more than willing to see just where those ideas led. 

Cody gently divested Obi-Wan of both of his cherry-red boots before pressing kisses up his calf, to the inside of each knee, and up a thigh to the waistband of his trousers. He deftly undid the button on his pants and carefully brought them down Obi-Wan’s legs. Reveling in the newly bared skin before him, Cody smoothed his hands up each of Obi-Wan’s long legs, toned from years of training. He peppered kisses and gentle bites into the skin as he worked his way up. Paying special attention to the few freckles, beauty marks, and scars that littered his legs, and murmuring compliments and endearments into the other’s skin. 

Working his way up to Obi-Wan’s torso, Cody carefully undid his belt and obi before slipping the layers of tunics off of his shoulders and down his arms before gently tugging his undershirt over his head. Revealing slightly tanned, gorgeously freckled skin. 

Obi-Wan blushed under Cody’s gaze. He wasn’t usually one to be shy but the longer that the war went on the more scars he acquired and the less desirable he thought his body became.  It was old anxieties that he wouldn’t ever be enough for anyone manifesting themselves at the worst times and in the worst ways possible. 

Seeming to know what he was thinking without even having to say it, Cody brought a hand up to gently cup Obi-Wan’s face and tip his head to look at him again. 

“Gar’re bid mesh’la,” Cody whispered, bringing his head down to touch foreheads with his lover and press a kiss to his lips. He was not going to let Obi-Wan get self-conscious and spiral tonight. He was the most beautiful man Cody had ever seen and he was going to make sure Obi-Wan knew just how much he was loved. 

He shuffled both of them so they were in a more comfortable position on the bed, before kissing down to Obi-Wan’s neck and working at a sensitive spot there. “Relax mesh’la, I’m gonna take care of you tonight. I’ve got you,”  Cody murmured into his neck with a nip. 

Cody brought calloused hands to trace down Obi-Wan’s sides to guide powerful thighs around his waist. Cody could feel his cock butting against Obi-Wan’s and brought his hips down to gently grind and create delicious friction on their aching members. The motion combined with Cody’s relentless lips drew a string of moans from Obi-Wan. 

“Please Cody,” the ginger begged, arching up into Cody, “I need more please.” 

“Shh mesh’la, I’ve got you,” Cody soothed, drawing away from Obi-Wan’s lips and neck to retrieve the bottle of lube from the bedside table and apply some to his fingers. Taking his slick index finger he circled it around Obi-Wan’s entrance before pressing into his tight heat. He brought his other hand down to close loosely around his and Obi-Wan’s cocks and pump while he set to the task of opening Obi-Wan up. 

Slipping a second and then third finger into Obi-Wan had the ginger moaning wantonly. “I need you Cody, please, don’t make me wait.”

Cody carefully withdrew from Obi-Wan, earning a small whimper from a loss of contact, before adding more lube to his aching cock and pressing into Obi-Wan. 

“Mesh’la you feel so good,” Cody moaned. “Always take me so well.”

The praise had the ginger keening underneath Cody as he set a relaxed pace. Pulling out and thrusting back in deeply, “You’re so beautiful, and you sound so good like this.” 

They got lost in the motion and the feel of it all. Cody enjoying the tight heat of Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan relishing in the warm stretch that Cody’s hard length gave. 

Cody’s goal for this wasn’t just their standard love making. Cody wanted to watch Obi-Wan absolutely fall apart under and around him. He wanted Obi-Wan to know he was loved and maybe be a little sore the next day. Wanting a better angle Cody shifted Obi-Wan’s legs from around his waist to rest on his shoulders, pressing his knees up towards his chest, and wrapping his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips to pull the other man closer. “You feel absolutely amazing Obi,” Cody panted, thrusting into Obi-Wan. Bringing the knee by his left shoulder a little closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there. 

On his next thrust in Obi-Wan could feel Cody’s cockhead brushing against a spot that had him keening. Between the compliments Cody kept murmuring to him and the pressure against his prostate Obi-Wan’s mind was blissfully blank, overcome with the pleasure and love radiating off of his cyare. 

Cody knew from the look on Obi-Wan’s face that he was getting close and that his plan was working. Obi-Wan was always a little bashful when it came to compliments and it was no surprise how well that worked in Cody’s favor in the bedroom. Knowing the other man was going to be getting close he decided to see just how affected his words could make the great Negotiator. 

“Are you feeling good love? It feels like it. The way you’re clenching around me is absolutely divine.” He said between thrusts, unrelenting on his lover’s prostate, Obi-Wan whimpering beneath him. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love doing this? I could worship you all day just like this. You’re so beautiful I would love to just have a day with you like this. See how many times I can get you to cum for me,” Cody panted, increasing the pace as he could feel Obi-Wan winding up getting ready to release, tendrils of Obi-Wan’s own emotions leaking out into the Force through his shields. It wouldn’t be long now, just the right push. 

“But you know what my favorite part is? Feeling you absolutely shatter around me. You project in the Force when you’re with me and its so addicting knowing just how good I make you feel.” Cody all but moaned, feeling Obi-Wan’s pleasure starting to peak, his own influenced by it and not far behind. 

“Cum for me Obi-Wan, let me feel you.” At that Obi-Wan tipped over the edge, arching up into Cody with a cry, limbs tensing as his cock shot ropes of cum between both of them. The Force opening up and Obi-Wan releasing all of the pleasure and emotions of lust and love out in a wave around Cody. The intensity of it nearly took Cody’s breath away and with a few more thrusts against Obi-Wan’s vice-like limbs, Cody was burying himself deep within Obi-Wan and moaning out his release. 

Coming down from their highs, Cody carefully moved Obi-Wan’s legs from his shoulders, and slid his softening member from Obi-Wan. The other man, hissing at the loss of contact. Giving Obi-Wan a quick peck on the lips, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan to grab a wet cloth from the fresher and gently clean up his auburn haired love. 

Returning the cloth to the laundry basket, Cody arranged their limbs so they were comfortably cuddling. One of Cody’s arms to act as a pillow for Obi-Wan’s head, forehead resting against Cody’s chest, his other arm coming to wrap around Obi-Wan’s back to lightly rub up and down his back and occasionally card through the short hair at the back of his head, their legs entwined comfortably. Obi-Wan hummed contentedly and nuzzled further into Cody’s chest, using the Force to pull the blankets up over them tucking them into a cocoon of warmth and love. 

“I love you,”Cody murmured into Obi-Wan’s hair where his cheek was nuzzled. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan said back, fighting off sleep. “Always.”

Feeling Obi-Wan’s breaths even out and deepen into sleep, Cody felt himself start to relax as well. Content and ridiculously in love Cody drew his arms a little tighter around the man in front of him and drifted off to sleep. 

[incorrect-riordanverse]

Riordanverse Characters as quotes by people i know have said

dedicated to @lord-of-pterodactyls, i know you asked for friends in particular but i’m broadening it as even people i consider my nemeses (old ass philosophy teacher) are funny

Percy: i truly feel as if nothing will ever incapsulate my being as truly as the singing monsters water wubbox

Annabeth: *screaming from adjoining room* GET LOST APPLE MUSIC PRIVACY

Piper: *in bikini* i don’t like people with big boobs

Jason: *trying to compliment piper* your hair looks like dementia

Leo: *emerging from the stinky depths of his room after being in there for 16 hours straight and no showers with clothes from 5 days ago, red scabs all over his body and lips so dry it looks like a snake shedding its old skin by how crusty it is* guys on a scale from 1 to 10 how sexy do i look rn?

Hazel: *yeets her foot out and jiggles her toes menacingly at people she dislikes as an intimidation tactic because her toes are particularly hideous*

Frank: *after literally being targeted by a racial ‘joke’* worse than that, you white people eat spam

Grover: *pats air purifier* a good trusted friend

Nico: *drifts into hazel’s room* bro i ain’t even gonna lie, the holidays are better than the black plague *leaves room before she can question him further*

Reyna: *sleeptalking* stallion le meghan

Rachel: *pretending her coloured markers are vapes*

Thalia: *pointing at luke* my bro be the victim and the perpetrator

Tyson: *when talking about doing math* all i have are my fingers and a dream

Clarisse: *sees a sick person in bed* you’re looking pretty vulnerable *proceeds to ransack their room and steal their sheets like some gremlin*

Octavian: i am THE riddler *speaks in riddler voice and puts on devious little expression* what is... a curtain?

Will: *sees a dying person and looks pointedly at nico* and thats because they didnt take their cenovis vitamin c

Luke: i am constantly one snap away from either committing homicide or suicide

Apollo: *feeling face after new skincare routine* gosh my face feels as soft as a silicone tit

Meg: *pointing at apollo after redemption arc* YOU WON’T GO TO HEAVEN BECAUSE YOU ARE A COMMUNIST!

Magnus: *eating falafel* this is an orgasmic experience

Samirah: *substituting random words in english for arabic and not realising no one understands what she’s saying*

Alex: *laughing at the death threats she gets online after posting a meme about BTS in the military*

Blitz: *does something naughty* omg sorry im such a libra（＾ν＾）

Hearth: *walks into room* god is dead.

Carter: *walking into sadie’s room visibly upset with a box of cadbury favourites* here take them. if you don’t im going to eat them all. please, dont make me do this

Sadie: take a shit and be late to school or dont take the shit and be on time hell loop

Zia: my top artist on spotify this year will be xi jinping’s wife

Walt: *simply, appreciatively and completely without context* yeah, buddha is a pretty amazing guy

Anubis: i dislike being emo because i can only go as death note characters for halloween

Bast: *absolutely entranced by watching love island uk and is just repeating everything any person says back in a treacherous essex accent*

Bes: *walking into classroom full of young teens with an oversized ‘free james assange’ shirt* today i am a nice, trendy leftist. tomorrow, who knows?

[something-tofightfor]

Fool's Gold 5: Shed My Skin And Breathe In The Colour

Pairing: Pirate Oberyn Martell x Female Reader (with a twist)

Rating: M for now - but that will change later. (This chapter includes Game of Thrones canon-typical violence, blood, fighting, etc.) It also contains what I'm going to call Smut Lite.

Word Count: 6,877

Summary: You and Daavos continue to grow closer, which is going to make the coming decision much more difficult for you to make.

And when your journey to Dorne takes an unexpected turn and you're forced to think on your feat, you learn a little more about yourself - and what you're capable of.

But that knowledge pales in comparison to something else you learn while on the Sand Snake.

Author's Note: This story has unfolded in a much different way than when I initially planned it ... but I'm really enjoying this journey. It picks up in this chapter, and from here on out, things take a much faster pace than the first half of the story did. Thank you all for your patience, I really appreciate it.

If you want to talk about this story (or any of my others) please feel free to pop into my inbox or DMs!

Chapter title comes from "Autumn" by Caligula's Horse.

Fool's Gold Masterlist

A hand sliding up over your side and then across your lower back woke you the following morning.

For a few seconds, you were confused, your body stiffening. But when you heard a voice saying your name followed by good morning, you relaxed. “Daavos.” Humming, you moved closer, keeping your eyes closed. “You’re still here.” 

“Of course I am.” He sighed, the sound content. “I said I wanted to see what you thought of waking up next to someone, and I meant it. Open your eyes.” 

You did as he asked, and were gifted with the sight of him: bed-rumpled hair, an easy smile, and thin shafts of light filtering in through the curtains that mostly covered the window.  There was no stopping your reaction, and you knew that he caught your sharp intake of breath and the widening of your eyes. You were certain that he felt the way you continued to move toward him until there were only inches separating you. 

“Do I even need to ask how you are feeling this morning?” His smile widened, Daavos’ gaze dropping to your lips. “Or should I let your body have the honor of telling me?” I wish. I wish we could do that. 

“If this is the only morning I get to wake beside you, Daavos, then I thank you for that.” You lifted your hand and tucked his hair behind one ear, following the curve of his skull and urging him closer. “Let me have one more thing to thank you for.” He laughed, but the sound was kind, and when your lips met, you felt true comfort. At least I’ll have this. At least I’ll know what this feels like. No matter what happens or where I end up. 

Daavos deepened the kiss, shifting his weight so that he could push you onto your back and hover over you, and for a few brief seconds, you let yourself imagine waking up to him each morning. You imagined enjoying the comfort and warmth of sharing a bed with him every night, and of knowing that not only was he kind, he was gentle, too. 

You moaned quietly when his tongue stroked along yours, and that seemed to encourage him. Daavos pulled his hand free from beneath your body and slid it up and over your side and stomach, pushing your shirt up with it to expose your chest. He backed away enough to meet your eyes, one of his brows lifted in question as he caught his breath. 

“Please don’t stop.” You didn’t recognize your own voice, but you meant the words, and without pause, he ducked his head again and resumed the kiss. But that time, Davaos went higher with his hand, his wide palm following his fingertips as he cupped one breast. You arched your back into his touch as he swallowed your sigh of pleasure. I shouldn’t have waited so long to let him touch me.

The kiss continued as Daavos dragged a thumb over your peaked nipple. When he broke it, taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for him to back away completely. Instead of doing that, though, he moved down your body, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck and then the hollow of your throat. 

Nothing could have prepared you for his next destination. 

Daavos settled his lips against the top swell of your breast before parting them and sucking, the tip of his tongue moving over the skin he held. And when he released it, dropping his mouth the distance necessary to reach the nipple he’d been teasing, you gasped. 

That sound turned to a low whimper when he took it between his lips and tugged, the increased arch of your back keeping him close. Your hands did that, too - the fingers of one threaded through the curls on the back of his head, the other gripping his shoulder. It would have been easy to let him keep going, to urge him even lower on your body, or to encourage him to remove his shirt and then yours before pressing your chests together. But we can’t. And we shouldn’t. 

“Wait.” It was little more than a whisper, and after another hum of pleasure at the feeling of his tongue flicking against your chest, you tried again. “Daavos, you need to stop.” He raised his head immediately, the pupils of his eyes wide in the low light. “If you don’t now, I don’t know that I’ll be able to ask you to.” 

He frowned but nodded, closing his eyes. “You are right.” I know I am. I hate it. “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You tugged on his hair, bringing his attention back to you. “If circumstances were different, I …” I wouldn’t have told you to stop. “Come here.” He moved back up your body, using one hand to move your shirt back into place. Instead of laying next to you, Daavos used one arm to brace his weight and stared down at where you laid, the look in his eyes soft. “You were right.” 

“Hmm?” His lips lifted into a smirk, and Daavos waited for you to continue. Before you did, though, you raised your hand and touched his cheek, pleased at the fact that he leaned into your palm, his eyes locked with yours. 

“There is nothing like this, Daavos.” It was barely there but you saw it - the change in his features as he winced before lowering his head so that he could kiss you again, that one gentle. What was that about? It ended too soon, and he pulled back entirely before sitting up, putting both hands on the blankets to steady himself. 

It took a few seconds for you to register the motion of the ship, but when you realized that it was moving, you sat up too, heart pounding. 

“We left port.” He nodded. “When?” 

“At first light.” He wet his lips, and you looked down to see that he was spinning the ring on his finger slowly. “We’re in The Stepstones now. I hope -”

“I did say I’d go to Dorne with you.” But there I have to make a decision. “How long will it take?” 

“We will arrive tomorrow.” He took a breath. “Late morning, unless the winds change.” It hit you then that you had only 24 hours more with him - and on the ship. I’m not ready. I don’t … I don’t know that I can… “Hey. Wait, wait.” He reached out for you, taking both of your hands and squeezing. “What did I tell you the first day you were on board?”

“That I’m your responsibility.” He nodded. “And that you’d make sure I was safe.” 

“That will still be true in Dorne. You have my word.” You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that nothing would change once you were on land and he was reunited with his family. But I can’t. No matter what he says, until I see it for myself, I …  “Today, there is something you need to do.” What? “I have things to attend to with the crew. I want you to get something to eat, and then find Nymeria. She will help you pick something to wear that is going to be more appropriate in Dorne.” 

“Are you sure?” He nodded. “Can’t I just wear my -”

“You’ll be too warm. You’ll want something light and flowing. Comfortable.” He leaned in, reaching up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You have nothing to hide.” He didn’t let you look away as a reaction to his words, instead holding your gaze until you nodded. “I’ll be busy for much of the day today. But tonight …” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to have dinner and then stay with you again, if you’ll allow it.” Why wouldn’t I allow it? 

“Yes.” You agreed immediately. “One last night.” 

Daavos stood up and reached for his socks and boots, pulling them on before he tucked in his shirt and tightened the string on his pants. “Pick anything you want to wear. Open every chest on board if you need to.” You laughed at that, some of the tension breaking - and then with one final pause in the doorway and a look back over his shoulder at you, Daavos was gone, the door closing behind him. 

The silence was unnerving. Even though you wanted nothing more than to lay back and contemplate what had happened over the previous day, you knew that you couldn’t. Because if he told me to find Nymeria, she must be expecting me. And I don’t want to make her wait. 

You gave yourself a few more minutes in bed, and then with a sigh, you climbed out of it, leaving the blankets in a pile.  

— 

“You’ll want something thin and light.” She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, watching as you searched through another trunk. “It doesn’t need to show off a lot of skin, but …” She sighed, lips pressed together. “You may want it to. It gets warm at home, even near the coast.” 

“That’s not what I’m used to.” Dropping another almost sheer dress onto the pile, you groaned. “We don’t wear these things in Braavos. We wear layers. It’s all heavier. The colors are …” Darker. Less… vibrant. “We try not to stand out.” 

“In Dorne,” Nymeria started speaking again as she pushed away from where she was leaning and made her way to you. “The people are happy. Many of them do not have much, but they have their health. They have their families. They like to…” She dropped to her knees and began to dig through the chest, her head shaking back and forth. “They dress to celebrate life each day and not only on special occasions.” 

“But these clothes, these chests are stolen property.” You frowned. “It feels wrong to show up in Sunspear wearing clothing that came from the ship of a murdered Prince, and -” 

“This one is perfect for you.” She ignored your words, holding up a bundle of wine-red fabric accented with gold stitching on the short sleeves and bodice. “It can be worn a few different ways to make sure you’re comfortable.” She handed it to you and you gasped at the feel of the soft material, trailing your fingers over the surface of it. “And not all of this belonged to Prince Oberyn. Some of it was for trade and to be given as gifts in other cities when he visited them.” 

That made you feel better, and when you rose to your feet, letting the material unfold to reveal the whole garment, you knew that it was the one you would have chosen for yourself. “It looks expensive, Nymeria.” 

“It is. This one was made by the Martell tailor.” She pointed at the golden threads. “And it is beautiful. But it is just going to waste sitting in these trunks. Wear it. I’m sure he’ll love to see you in it.” 

“That’s your father. Isn’t it … odd to -”

“No.” She laughed, dropping down to sit atop one of the closed crates. “And once we get home, you’ll understand why.” You doubted that, but didn’t want to argue with someone that had been so kind to you. 

“Thank you for your help.”  You draped the dress over the back of a chair and then moved back to re-pack the trunks to leave them as you’d found them. “It’s already going to be strange for me to be in Dorne, but at least now I won’t stand out too much, thanks to you.” 

“You will.” She nodded, tilting her head to the side. “But that is a good thing.” What? “Let me walk you back to your room.” It was an abrupt change of topic, but you agreed, following her out of the room and back toward where you’d been staying. “When you’re done there, you should talk to him.” 

“Done?” She nodded, putting one hand on her hip and stepping backwards. “Done with what? I just have to put this on the chair inside, and then -”

“It will make sense in a few minutes.” Nymeria took a deep breath and then said your name. “He’s a good man. And everything he does, there is a reason for it.” Who? Daavos? “Remember that.” 

She didn’t say another word before turning and leaving you to stare as she went, your mouth open in shock. What is she talking about? The ship rocked, bringing you back to attention, and when you turned toward the open door, you decided that as soon as you put the dress down, you were going to find Daavos. 

But that plan fell apart after you stepped into the room and saw what was waiting for you. 

While you’d been eating and searching for new clothes, someone had been inside. The wardrobe door was once again unlocked to reveal the clothing hanging inside of it, though the yellow jacket was missing. A quick glance at the desk told you that there were stacks of papers there again, alongside what you recognized as one of the journals that you’d declined to read days earlier. What? The book was open and the pages marked with a strip of silk, showing you that ink covered the entire surface in lines of text. 

“Why is this out?” You frowned, setting the dress down at the end of the bed and then turning toward the wardrobe. “Why is this open?” There were things hanging inside - shirts like the one you’d seen Daavos wearing throughout the journey, pants and boots that were finely stitched, and a few longer robes that had almost certainly been part of the Prince’s rotation of outfits. I haven’t seen him in any of these. 

They were beautiful. The stitching was similar to the dress Nymeria had chosen for you, golden thread standing out against the darker fabric and woven into twisting floral shapes. You wondered why Daavos had left the door unlocked, but even more puzzling was why he’d placed the correspondence back on the desktop, especially after you’d made it clear you wouldn’t read any more of it. 

But curiosity got the better of you, and you moved to stand in front of the desk, looking down at the papers and books atop it. There was a single sheet of parchment separate from the others, and when you picked it up to read it, your fingers curled against the paper in surprise at the words. 

Read it all. You won’t disrespect anyone - you have my permission.

“Permission? Why would I need …” You looked down from the paper in your hand to the book on the desk, gasping in shock as you read the first line scrawled at the top of the page. 

She may think she’s won, but Cersei Lannister should have known better … It will take more than this to kill the Red Viper. 

The writing continued below, but you couldn’t focus on it, even after you’d dropped the single sheet to the floor, mouth open in disbelief. “What is …” You reached for the book, flipping backwards through the pages to compare the handwriting. “It’s the same.” Heart pounding, you dropped into the chair and scooted it closer to the desk, eyeing the pages. “It’s the same handwriting, and that means …” 

You went back and forth between the journal and the loose pages, comparing the writing from Oberyn’s letters and poems with the contents of the book. It was all the same, and even with only a short time to look at the correspondence, you were certain of it. 

The differences in the unsent letters were intentional. The longer you looked at them, the more you understood - the handwriting was disguised, though some of the phrasing used within it was the same. Whoever wrote this did this on purpose, and that only makes sense if they’re keeping their identity a secret. You took a deep breath and then let it out slowly, looking away from the desk and around the room, tapping your fingers on the wood. 

The ship was Oberyn’s. The quarters were Oberyn’s. The clothing had been Oberyn’s, too, and though it was possible that the men had been similar in size, the way that some of Daavos’ outfits fit - and how comfortable he seemed in them was a little too perfect. And his hands. They’re smooth and soft. And he doesn’t seem… You covered your mouth with one hand, flipping back to the marked pages. 

He understands kindness in a way that no pirate would.

— 

By the time you finished reading, it felt like someone had taken your entire chest between their hands and was crushing it.

You had no idea how long you’d been at it, but you did know that like he’d said multiple times in your time on the ship, there were many things Daavos needed to explain to you. “Not Daavos.” You closed the book and  then placed your hand flat against the cover, fingers spread out over the soft leather. “His name isn’t Daavos.” 

You didn’t doubt anything that you’d read. You were convinced that the journal had been kept in real time, which meant that for the almost two years since the first entry he’d marked for you to read, it had been updated on a regular basis. Sometimes the entries were mundane, just marking the passage of time or making note of weather conditions or the cities that the ship had been in. 

In other updates, you could almost feel the anger in the way the words were nearly slashed into the pages, the handwriting just barely legible as it detailed the lengths he was willing to go to to get his revenge on Cersei and the remaining Lannisters. 

There was no anger in the entries made after he’d found you. Instead, the tone of the contents turned softer and more curious, much like it had been in earlier updates regarding the people that he missed and wanted to get home to. One in particular had stood out to you - a single line in the middle of a page, made the day he’d rescued you. 

I do not want the first things she learns about me to be lies, but there is no other option. 

It was entirely possible that he’d scrambled to put together the entries as a way to further deceive you. He could have gone to great lengths to cover his tracks. But you didn’t think he was the type, especially with you - because there was no reason for him to do so. But I didn’t think he’d lie to me, either. 

The contents of the book and the letters - if they was the truth - meant that from the moment you’d woken up in his bed, Daavos had been feeding you one lie after the other. Or maybe … maybe not. Maybe he’s only lied about … 

There was only one way to find out for sure, and one thing you were certain of was that he’d been the one to leave the door unlocked and the papers on the desk. And that meant that he’d wanted you to see and read them, which meant that he was expecting you to find him and question him about what you’d read before you arrived in Dorne. Which is why he wasn’t sure I’d want to spend the night with him tonight.

“But if this is the truth, then when we get there, I’ll be meeting … oh, seven hells.” You lowered your head and buried your face in your hands, shoulders shaking. 

You took a few minutes to collect your thoughts. Before you could second guess your next moves, you pushed away from the table and stood, heading for the door - and to find the ship’s captain. 

When you stepped out and onto the main deck, you found chaos instead. 

The crew were frantically running back and forth across the wooden surface, shouting to each other as they focused on securing the sail rigging and other on-deck items. They were gathering weapons and loading them into the equipment mounted to the rails and sides of the ship, sliding metal tipped spears into place and moving additional ammunition into position nearby. 

You had no idea what was happening until you looked up and at the wheel, where Daavos was standing with two of his men and his daughters, all of them looking out and to your right. You followed their gaze and felt your blood run cold at the sight of an approaching ship, its sails dark and also unmarked. Pirates. 

When you heard your name, your attention snapped to the source, and you met Daavos’ eyes, watching as he stepped away from the wheel and closer to where you stood. “Get back inside. Lock the door to the bedroom. Protect yourself.” He shook his head twice. “I cannot do what I need to do out here if you’re -”

“No.” Your response surprised both of you, and when you crossed your arms, frowning, you went on. “If I’m locked inside and someone reaches me, I have nowhere else to go.” You shook your head, never looking away. “At least out here I’m not trapped.” His expression softened, shoulders slumping, but he nodded only moments later. 

“Arm yourself, then. You may not know how to use a weapon, but -”

“Maybe I do.” Taking a deep breath, you forced a smile. “Maybe that dagger of mine isn’t just for show.” His lips briefly turned upward, too, and when he nodded at you a second time, you didn’t linger. 

Quickly, you went back to your room and secured your belongings, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself before sliding the dagger into your belt. I can do this. I can protect myself. You headed for the door, but before you reached it, you paused and looked back at the desk and the wardrobe. If he’s hiding his identity, I can’t leave it out in the open. 

There wasn’t much time, but you didn’t care - rushing back and stuffing the papers and journal back into the drawers and locking them before doing the same with the wardrobe. You had no idea how successfully that would keep the pirates from finding information if they reached the ship’s interior, but at the very least, it meant that there was nothing visible upon first glance. 

On the way back to the upper deck, you passed other crew members as they moved through the halls. You paused and peeked in at the women in the galley, whose fear was almost tangible. Maybe I can help protect them. 

The second ship was closer by the time you made it back outside, and nearly all of the Sand Snake’s men were in place along the rails, waiting. Daavos was with them, his posture still loose, arms hanging at his sides as he watched it sail toward you. 

You positioned yourself in front of the doorway leading inside, though you tried to keep yourself concealed using a stack of crates …and waited. 

“They’re close.” She spoke from next to you, and you looked over to see that  Nymeria was nearby, her head turned toward the open sea. “Minutes away. My father said I’m supposed to stay near you, but -”

“I’ll be fine, Nymeria.” She turned her head to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t need to look after me. I know you’ll want to fight.” 

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll fight.” She grinned. “We all will.” She paused, gesturing to you with one hand. “You picked a good spot, I’m impressed.” A compliment from her - based on what you’d learned over the previous hours - made your heart pound in your chest. Because he taught her strategy. And he’s smart, and … 

Your attention shifted back to the upper level of the boat, and even though you assumed he’d be watching the approaching ship, Daavos was instead watching you, his lips set in a thin line and the furrow between his brows deep. There was a part of you that was angry at what you’d learned - angry at him for lying, angry at yourself for not questioning anything, angry at the situation you were about to find yourself in. But you knew that it wasn’t the time to dwell on it. I can be angry after we survive this. 

You nodded once at him, giving him a smile that you hoped was able to disguise the fact that you were terrified. He returned it, but before you even had a chance to think further, Nymeria murmured from next to you. “Here they come.” 

The second ship pulled up alongside yours, and you watched as multiple men used the sail rigging to swing from it and onto the Sand Snake, boots hitting the deck with solid thunks that turned into the clanging of swords as the fight began. 

You tried to count, but lost track when you reached thirty new pirates, and with some shock, you realized that the other ship was larger than yours. That meant more men - and more of a challenge, even for highly trained sailors and fighters. 

And that’s what your crew were, you realized as you watched them fight. 

They didn’t fight sloppily - their movements were precise and almost coordinated, the attacks targeted as they attempted to keep the pirates from advancing from the outskirts of the deck to the interior. Nymeria was almost vibrating beside you, her hand on the grip of her dagger as she eyed the chaos around you. 

“Nymeria.” You leaned over, reaching out to touch her arm. “Go. You’re much more valuable in the fight than you are standing here to watch over me.”

“My father will -” 

“You are a Sand Snake. This is what he prepared you for.” Her eyes widened. “He’s been away for too long, and he’s too close to home for it to end like this.” You took a deep breath and nodded again. “Dorne needs its Red Viper, and he needs you.” 

Her eyes brightened at your words, her smile knowing. “Thank you.” She nodded, wetting her lips. “Be careful.” And without another word, Nymeria darted away and toward the fight, unsheathing her dagger as she moved. You had no idea if it was the right call, but it felt like it was, and when you looked away from the fighting on your level and back to where he stood, you watched as Daavos sparred with two men, the worried look gone from his face and replaced with a cocky smile. 

He moved in a circle, almost taunting them as he crossed one foot over the other and sized up the new arrivals, the weapon in his hands - a gleaming spear - flashing in the sunlight as he jabbed it forward. You sensed no fear in him, and with some surprise, you gasped when he moved closer, almost eliminating the distance between himself and his assailants. 

They had longswords, and you immediately noticed that it put them at a disadvantage thanks to the weight of the weapons. One of them fell after another strike by Daavos, the dark haired man laughing as his opponent stumbled over the body in an attempt to avoid it. And when he lunged forward, extending his leg in a sweeping motion and the pirate toppled over, you swore in relief, eyes on the red-tinged blade as it arced downward, striking its target. Two down. That’s good.

Your attention shifted again when you caught movement on your right, two more men climbing over the railing and onto the deck, immediately pulling out curved blades as they advanced toward Nymeria and the men she was fighting with the help of another crew member. 

You had a choice - remaining quiet and risking them taking her by surprise or giving away your position and warning her - and without thinking twice, you opened your mouth, shouting her name. “Nymeria - two more, behind you!” She spun in a circle and you caught her laugh, the girl raising her free hand and motioning the men closer, the gesture clearly meant to taunt them. 

Only one took the bait though, lowering his head as he advanced. The other turned his attention toward you, his lips curling upward in a sneer while his hand made its way to the weapon attached to the belt at his waist. “Well hello there.” 

You were terrified, but tried to keep your expression even, taking one step back so that there were only inches between you and the doorway. You can do this. It’s only one man. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and then moved your hand to the hilt of your weapon, fingers curled loosely around it. 

Nymeria and the other crew member were still fighting the three men in the distance, and the air was filled with the sounds of shouting and clanging weapons - but you tried to ignore it all and instead focus on your opponent. “What do we have here?” He stopped a few feet away, looking you up and down. “Protecting the doorway? What’s inside? Must be something good.”

“You won’t find out.” Your voice was stronger than you anticipated, and when you shifted your weight, planting both feet, you actually felt confident. “Turn around. Go back to your ship.” He laughed at you, stepping closer. “Stop.” 

“Make me.” He lunged for you and you stepped to the side enough that he missed, pulling the dagger out and brandishing it. The pirate laughed, collecting himself as he straightened up. His weapon of choice moved back and forth between his hands, and you realized with some shock that he was trying to confuse you, distracting you with the movement instead of focusing on him. That won’t work. 

“You think I won’t?” You took a breath, keeping your eyes locked with his. “Try that again.” The dagger felt right in your hand - you didn’t think you’d ever used it before, but the weight of it was comfortable, like you’d trained to learn to use it. Wyllem? No. That’s not right. 

The pirate reached out again and you batted his weapon away, still thinking. You heard a voice in your head - faint but firm, the tone lilting and making your chest ache a little. All men are made of water. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. 

The pirate was determined - you saw it in the set of his shoulders and the depth of his stare. He would do everything he could to get past you and into the corridors of the ship, and if that happened, it meant that you’d let him. “It’s a fuckin’ shame I don’t have more time with yeh.” He laughed, the expression his face a sneer. “I’d enjoy that, I think.” 

“You’ll enjoy nothing.” You lunged, too, though it was only halfway, wanting to ease him back a step or two, and it worked. His brows rose and his smile widened, cracked lips splitting with the motion. “You chose the wrong ship.” Swift and sudden. He tossed the weapon back to his other hand and swung, forcing you to lean back. But instead of actually retreating, you darted forward before he could reset, twisting the blade to the side and aiming for the bared skin at the top of his chest, just above the buttons of his tattered shirt. The water leaks out and then they die. 

Your dagger pierced the pirate’s skin with surprising ease, and you heard him gasp, though you didn’t back off or remove the blade. Instead you dragged it downward, widening the wound you’d created while the two of you toppled to the deck with a crash. He was screaming, the sound loud since it was happening right in your ear, and you were dimly aware of a searing pain in your side. What do we say to the God of Death? 

You straddled the pirate, pulling the dagger free and raising it above your head, both hands wrapped around the hilt before you brought it back down. It went through his throat that time, his arms immediately going limp and his weapon clattering free as he stilled beneath you. “Not today.” You whispered the words, lowering your head and closing your eyes. 

You could still hear fighting around you, the sound of men and women shouting as the battle raged, but when you looked up, you saw Daavos striding toward you, his shirt darkened with blood and a smear of it across his neck and jaw. He held a different weapon - that one a knife - and without missing a step, he turned to the right and extended his arm, nicking the exposed skin of the forearm of one of the pirates that was engaged with another crew member. Poison. His blades are always poisoned.

“You killed a man.” He stopped a few steps from where you knelt, and while you stared up at him, you realized that you were checking him for wounds. The blood isn’t his. “With only two strikes. You weren’t afraid, and -”

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.” You repeated the words you’d heard countless times before, closing your eyes as you nodded at the memory of your tutor. “The First Sword of Braavos taught me that.” Thank you, Syrio. 

“You are bleeding.” He reached a hand out, palm up. “Let me help you.” I’m what? But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he was right - a jagged tear in the side of your shirt exposed torn skin, and when you cautiously reached to touch it, you hissed when your fingers made contact. He stabbed me. When we fell, he - “You must get up.” He blinked, swallowing hard. “I know there is much to talk about, but for now, we need to… finish these men off. Can you get up and stay close?” 

You nodded back, reaching for him and letting him pull you to your feet, his fingers wrapped tightly around yours, though they didn’t linger. When you got your bearings, you looked around and saw that your ship’s crew had things under control, despite a few visible injuries. They were herding the pirates toward the stern of the Sand Snake, and you and Daavos joined them, slowly advancing. 

There were only eight men left fighting by the time you reached the back railing, and when four of them threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees, you watched as Obara and Nymeria broke away from the rest of you, dragging those men to the side with some help from two others. Daavos stepped forward toward the remaining pirates, stopping far enough away that their weapons couldn’t reach him. 

“Surrender.” He slipped the knife he’d been using back into the sheath on his belt and then crossed his arms, tilting his head to one side. “You are defeated. Surrender now and we will let you live.” 

“No you won’t.” One of them laughed, gesturing with both hands. “You shouldn’t. Just letting us get back on our ship, and -”

“I said we would let you live. I said nothing about you getting back on your ship.” He took a breath and then looked to his right, jerking his chin toward the other vessel before looking back at his crew. “Board it. Search it. Bring anything of value back here and then burn it.” He leaned forward, eyeing the prisoners as four of his men agreed and then moved to follow his orders. “And when that is done, we’ll put you on a raft and set you adrift. There are plenty of islands in the Stepstones. I’m sure you’ll find one of them eventually.” 

Despite the pain you were in - the burn mounting by the minute, even with your hand firmly pressed against your side - you grinned at his words. My raft. He’s going to put them in my raft. The four men protested, but Daavos didn’t stick around to hear it. Instead, he turned back to look at you, his expression softening. 

“Come with me. We’ll go to the healer, and -”

“No.” You winced, looking down at your side. “I’d like you to do it yourself.” He was stunned but agreed immediately, gesturing for you to follow him toward the door leading inside. The halls were still deserted, but as you passed doorways, they cracked open, people peering out at you. You’re safe. You’re all safe now. 

When you reached the bedroom, he opened the door for you , waiting until you’d walked inside to follow. “I can leave this open, if you prefer it. I don’t want to make you feel … uncomfortable.” Despite the obvious concern about your wound, he was still cautious, and you appreciated it. Because he’s been lying to me and he knows that I know. 

“You can close the door. I’ll need to lift my shirt for you to clean and bandage it.” You paused and then ducked your head, heart pounding. “Your Grace.” 

The room was silent for a few seconds, and then he moved, reaching out to use the tips of his fingers to bring your chin level and forcing you to meet his eyes. “You do not need to be so formal with me. Not here, on this ship. Not in Dorne, not…” He paused. “Well, maybe in front of Doran, but…” That made him smile and your lips quirked upward in return. “Let me take care of that for you and then we can talk.” 

You nodded, still making eye contact until you sat down on the edge of the bed. He busied himself with the pitcher of water on the table and some of the containers on the shelves, his back to you. You lifted your shirt enough so that you could look at your side, gasping at the sight of your injury. It was still oozing blood, the edges jagged, and it was much bigger than you’d imagined. I didn’t even realize that he hurt me. I was so focused on making sure he stayed down. 

“You were very brave.” He was in front of you again, hands full of things you knew he’d use to treat you. “It’s almost like you’ve fought before.” 

“I haven’t.” You inhaled deeply through your nose, watching as he pulled a stool up to the bedside and sat. “I didn’t even know if I’d know how to use that dagger until it was happening, but … I knew that I couldn’t let him past me and into the ship.”

“Nymeria was supposed to stay with you.” He leaned in, using the dampened corner of a cloth to wipe blood from your skin. “I’ll have to speak to her. She -”

“I told her to go.” You grunted at his touch, wincing at the fact that even though he was being gentle, it hurt. “It wouldn’t have helped anyone to have her stuck looking after me. She was more useful… seven hells that hurts. She was more useful fighting alongside your men.” You watched his fingers as they moved over your skin, probing gently along the front of your body and then the back. “This was not her fault, Oberyn.” 

His hands stilled at the sound of your voice, and you were stunned at how easily the name came from your mouth - and how right it sounded. “I’ve waited days to hear you call me that.” He whispered your name, pausing before he continued. “I’ve waited so long to hear anyone call me that, and -”

“Daavos didn’t suit you.” You gritted your teeth at the feeling of some sort of liquid as it stung your skin, forcing yourself to look away while he worked so that you weren’t tempted to look at your wound. “Just like Myriah didn’t suit me.” That got a chuckle out of him, and for a few minutes, Oberyn worked in silence, cleaning you up. He must have studied healing at the Citadel. It goes along with poisons, and everyone knows he achieved that link. 

It didn’t take him long to bandage your wound, and when he finished, you straightened up when he did, watching as he tidied up the supplies he’d used and put the bloodied rags into a bowl. There was tension in the room between you, and while you were angry at him for concealing the truth, a large part of you understood why he’d done what he’d done. And I’ll understand more when he tells me everything. 

“Give me your hands.” You took his when he held them out, and he helped you back to your feet. That time, he didn’t let go as soon as you were steady. Instead, he raised one of yours until the back was level with his lips. You met his eyes and because you didn’t say anything, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to your knuckles before speaking again. 

“My name is Prince Oberyn Martell. I am the younger brother of Doran Martell, Lord of Sunspear.” He stood all the way up, lowering your hands, but he still didn’t let go. “Despite what the rest of the realm believes, I am very much alive… and it is a pleasure to meet you.” 

— 

[limerental]

ficletvember 2024 - day 20

yennskier modern au

Given that their relationship is wholly casual and they are the people they are, Yennefer has zero basis to be upset over Jaskier's not prioritizing her.

He calls her three hours late on a Saturday night, bubbling over with profuse apologies and offers to make it right, and by then, Yennefer's not even angry, just feels stupid and a little hollow. 

She shouldn't be surprised. This is how he's always been– forever flaky, forgetful, absorbed in his own world, onto the next bright and eye-catching thing once the shine's rubbed off what he already has.

For whatever reason, Yennefer hadn't thought it would happen with her.

She shimmies out of her black dress and sheds her tights like a snake skin and is sprawled on the couch in her sweats when Jaskier crashes into her apartment with two pints of ice cream and a cheesy smile. He's wearing a silk shirt, the sort that clings to the sweat he worked up climbing the stairs to the top floor. Maybe he ran all the way here.

“Horrible abomination for you and a normal person flavor for me,” he says and offers out her ice cream with a wrinkle of his nose. It's mint chocolate chip. Yennefer’s ordinarily pleased that he doesn’t have to ask, but what if she’d wanted something different this time. 

Jaskier flounces away to rummage for spoons in her sterile, rarely-used kitchen, and the stark light haloes his hair, messy and a little greasy like he's been running his hands through it. Or like someone else has been running their hands through it.

“I really am sorry, Yen,” he says. “Lost track of time at the gym, you know. New workout routine– whew! Really sucks you right in.”

Yennefer wonders who he was with, if he even got their number or their name, if he was at the gym at all. She'd bought the tickets for the event they missed a month in advance, spent an hour this evening diffusing her hair, debated dress choices like she cared about the opinions of the vapid crowds around her. The first few missed calls and unanswered texts had sent a burning fury through her, and she'd paced and raged and hurled insults at nothing. 

How dare he. How dare he.

But it's not as if it's anything new with him. It's not as if they've made any lasting promises to one another. After Geralt’s ceaseless complications and their inevitable crash and burn, the ease of falling into some nameless thing with Jaskier has been ideal. This isn't some great romance. She and Jaskier have a relationship built on commiserating and binging unhealthy food on the couch and having a lot of adventurous, eclectic, and exhilarating sex. 

And yes, he knows her favorite flavor of ice cream and wears a key to her apartment on a chain around his neck and pretends she's his wife sometimes at restaurants or red carpet events and looks at her often like he’s looking now as he settles down on the couch beside her, all crushingly devoted and fond.

“Your hair looks nice,” he says. She digs her spoon deep into her ice cream and unpauses the show she'd been watching.

“I know,” says Yennefer. “My dress looked even better.”

“Wear it when I take you out tomorrow night,” he says, forgetting that he has that dinner with some network exec that he's been talking about for weeks. She doesn't bother reminding him, lets him tuck an arm around her shoulder and kiss her temple.

Years ago, she may have raged and fumed, stiffened stubbornly with the most frigid of lasting cold shoulders, but she doesn't have the energy. Instead, she lets him slip between her spread legs as he kneels on the carpet and his mouth is a revelation as always and she tries to think about anything else but being left behind.

Their ice cream melts on the end table, and she takes him to bed, riding him rough and demanding as he grips the sheets and prays aloud. 

It's as fiercely good as ever. This is what they're good at, this casual sort of taking from one another, shifting the pace without words, kissing until they lose their breath. 

She's not the sort of woman who pines and wallows and lets her feelings get hurt. She's cold and unfeeling and the best he's ever had, and he better accept that and shape up or risk never sleeping in her bed again. 

Yennefer knows that that wouldn’t last long. She would miss him too badly.

Afterward, she curls against his back and touches her mouth between the sweat of his shoulderblades. He pulls her arm around his waist, tangles their fingers against his chest.

“Yen,” he whispers, “you're still angry with me, aren't you?”

“No,” she says. She’s not angry. She doesn’t know what she feels. “You're as much of an imbecile as you've always been. Doesn't surprise me even a little.”

He sighs and wiggles absurdly back against her and she knows he's likely to talk and talk himself to sleep the way he likes to, a ramble of meaningless drivel.

“Don't stop liking me, Yen,” he says, voice small. “I mean, I know I make it all far too difficult. I'm an utterly unreliable forgetful fool and I can't keep a thing straight and I let too much slip through my fingers but I… That is to say, I…”

“Oh hush,” says Yennefer. She can’t bear the thought of him telling her something he doesn't fully mean.

“Don't leave me,” he says on the edge of sleep, and she hates this infuriating, idiotic problem of a man. She hates that she loves him just enough to forgive him almost anything.

[fujisfuji]

the one within

full creds : edward art series , part 4 , inner self must be exalted .

who is desiring ?

So when you go to meditate, close your eyes and remove the outer-world. It is just this blackness. This sacred area of Creation. This place is where you can conjure up images and words you want to hear or what you don't want to hear and see. But you are doing it all. now listen to the voice in your mind, your awareness. PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS: THAT IS YOU. THAT IS THE TRUE YOU. NOT THIS BODY. THAT IS "SELF" !!! When Neville says "Leave the world just as it is and change self. No one to change but self," he means the self that is within, the only self there is. Why leave the world alone? Because it is only an expression of "SELF!" Why does he say to change that and that alone? Because "SELF MUST BE EXPRESSED," that is the Law. You don't have to doubt "is my imaginal act going to come to pass?" Who is doubting? "SELF!" Who is worrying? "SELF!" What gets expressed? "SELF!" YOU CAN ALWAYS TRUST THAT SELF WILL BE EXPRESSED! Here is what I mean: That voice, the one in you that imagines, is YOU. THAT IS THE ONE WHO IS DESIRING. THAT IS THE ONE WANTS TO BE EXALTED. THAT IS THE ONE WHO WANTS TO HAVE THEIR DESIRES FULFILLED. Discard the outer-world and that includes your identification with this body. This is ALL an EXPRESSION OF THAT "SELF." So just take a moment and close your eyes and see the blackness. Then pay attention to your inner voice. THAT IS THE ONE WHO IS DESIRING. THAT IS THE ONE WHO IS IN PAIN. THAT IS THE ONE WHO WANTS TO BE FREE FROM ITS BONDAGE. THAT IS THE ONE WHO NEEDS TO BE EXALTED, THE TRUE "SELF." THAT IS THE ONE WHO WANTS TO SEE BEAUTY, TO HEAR GOOD NEWS. THAT IS THE ONE WHO DESIRES TO LIVE A LOVELY LIFE!

giving it to yourself

So give it to yourself in your mind! It is incredibly simple. If you take what I say seriously, you will change how you see and live life. You will identify yourself from within and you will grant your every wish from within. It does not matter if it is impossible, if your "SELF" wants it, grant it within. There are no rules for that "Self." If it wants guilt gone, then remove guilt in the mind. Feel forgiven and its all fine, that Self the true you, is desiring that. There are no rules that says you cant have. The beautiful thing is that the inner world can give you anything. I hate separating You and Self because they are not separate, but I am just doing that for clarity. If you embarrass yourself in your mind, or hurt yourself, spark fear into yourself, you are doing that to "Self" the true you which is expressed. You worry about what society thinks, what so-so might think? Who is worrying? SELF! It is ALL YOU. Then you feel hurt, scared and you feel you can have what you want but who is hurt and scared? Your body? No, it is the inner you, the true you. The one who can shed its skin (state) like a snake. When you are fearing, who is doing it? THAT "SELF!" YOU. IT IS IMAGINING IT! But that "Self" does not want to feel that fear anymore, it desires to imagine something new. But since you identify yourself with outer-world and outer-self instead of your True Self and inner-world where everything is possible, you remain stuck. "SELF" becomes irritated, fearful etc. You feel fear in your body, your irritations, that angst will forever remain until you fulfill it within.

identification

So that "SELF" that you are scaring, embarrassing gets expressed! If you want to change, leave the fearful, embarrassing, irritating world just as it is. Do exactly what Neville says. Then identify yourself FULLY with your True Self, the one that is desiring within. Then fulfill all your dreams to its fullest. We already do this but we do it in ways that are harmful to "Self." We try to eat this and that, and read this and that to save "SELF," but "Self" cannot be saved by outer means. Self always wants fulfillment.

So identify yourself, not with this world, but with the one within, the one who is truly desiring. as within , so without .

[buriedpentacles]

Hello, good person!

Happy to see you. I hope you are well.

I came with question about two particular Archetypes.

I saw you putting whole thing into words, what I am really grateful for, you may know my religious sideblog, on which I talk about it sometimes. Throughout my path there were 5 Archetypes I was worshipping/working with, now it came to two, which feels most closely to me. With others I still have good relationship, it's now just honouring and appreciation, rather than working.

Two Archetypes I want to ask about are: The Snake, which is pretty popular, but I want to know your opinion, because you are cool, and, the one I have most absence of information, The Deepsea Anglerfish.

Both are very dear to me, and, while, with Snake it's pretty easy find symbolism and role, with Anglerfish it's just nothing.

What would you say? What ways to connect and honour/worship/work with you would recommend?

Thank you very much for answer. I wish you very good day.

Hello!!

Thank you for calling me cool <3 I'm definitely not but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless ;)

Lets talk about these archetypes!

Starting with Snake because, as you said, they're super popular in myth and folklore and are just very well known spiritually. Snakes are associated with cycles, rebirth, poison, medicine and death (to name a few). This symbolism can vary between species (i.e. King Cobras obviously have a more royal association and venomous snakes are more likely to represent death than say a corn snake).

Snake, as an archetype, is really about transformation and transmutation - shedding skin, cycles, venom -> medicine, life -> death (and vice versa) etc. This is the basis of Snake as an archetype (in my experience).

This symbolism comes from the physical properties of snakes. They're one of the most common phobias in the world (there's interesting theories on why this is, relating to our primate instincts) making them symbols of death and fear, they can be venomous but that venom has been transformed into medicine. They grow and change and shed their skin, literally leaving their past behind.

An animal's archetype, their symbolism and their power is directly linked to their physical forms. With that in mind, let's look at the Deep Sea Anglerfish:

Most well known for their luminescent lure, Anglerfish have a illicium, or modified fin, that is alight with symbiotic bacteria. This lure draws in their prey in the darkness of the abyss. These guys have a lot of diversity but generally show quite high levels of sexual dimorphism with the most notable example being in species with "parasite males" - males are significantly smaller than females and attach to them like a sperm-producing parasite when they encounter one another, and males often die if they don't find a female.

When we look at these characteristics in the species, we can start to piece together the symbolism and archetype of the animal. These amazing fish are simultaneously representative of a light in darkness, unseen truth etc and also tricksters and manipulation. They're a sign of obsession and death, as well as survival against all odds.

If I, personally, were to work with Anglerfish, I would look to them for knowledge on finding hidden truths but also on finding what I need and getting by in difficult times. I would work with them perhaps as a trickster-hunter, as a spirit that knows darkness so well they would be blinded by any light that is not their own.

I've already rambled way too much so I'll wrap up!!! I'd say that for working with either of these Archetypes, the ways of connection are not too different from any other Archetype:

Create: draw, paint, write poetry etc that explores and celebrates these archetypes and their complexities

Read, watch documentaries etc, learn as much about them as you can! Understand their tangible forms and you will understand them better spiritually

Protect their physical, individual forms if you can! Look at how to protect native snakes, sign petitions to stop deep sea trawling etc

Include them in your life and practice as often as is sustainable for you!

Sorry this has got so long but please drop another ask or dm or whatever for other questions or futher discussion because I LOVE this topic!!!

[ahollowgrave]

I saw a really neat garden post earlier and it reminded me of Odette's lovely garden that she loves to read in-

What does she like to grow in her garden? Any special flowers or herbs she uses on a regular basis? Any pretty favorites? I also must know if she sings to her flowers as she waters!

I cannot overstate how delighted I am, to know you saw a neat garden post and thought of my little nun and her garden! In short: It’s a park, with ecosystems separated by natural features. It is the careful introduction of patterns into the natural chaos of the living world. A lot of effort goes into maintaining it but Odette is her most happy surrounded by the quiet life that flourishes there.

If it grows Odette has tried to coax it to grow in her garden, for better or for worse, to varying degrees of success. Some things simply won’t grow despite the volcanic soil of Vylbrand. Other things grow with a little too much enthusiasm. Mint, for instance, is now restricted to little pots and monitored closely lest it take over the whole garden

But first, I must tell you that Odette’s house and the land it sits on were both ‘left’ to her by her many-times-over great aunt Odile; who sheds identities like a snake does skin. It is nestled in a little valley on the coast of Vylbrand and the sound of the ocean reaches far into the manor itself. Most of the acreage is left wild; creeks threaded over the landscapes, feeding into meadows and hidden clearings with forgotten picnic trappings.

Truly one can only tell where the Garden begins because of the wall: low and old but maintained by loving hands with big iron gates that do little to stop critters from entering as they wish. It won’t stop you either, gentle reader, as they swing open on silent hinges upon your approach.

The main garden is artfully arranged.

Narrow but clear paths skirt blossoming wildflowers, follow alongside creeks, and wander between old wisteria vines and ancient willows; branches sweep the ground like the full skirt of a Lady. Stately oaks support swings and shade thoughtfully placed benches while evergreens stand tall and proud. Flowering bushes are scattered throughout the garden; filling holes or providing order as needed.

Water is an important part of Odette’s worship of Menphina and it is reflected in this space.

Tucked amongst the living things are water features. The creek ends in shallow pools, lilies stretching from the bottom to float on the surface. Fountains of pale stone encircled with daises. An open-aired bath with intricate scenes of frolicking and canoodling figures carved into its supports. A deep, deep well that echoes back your greetings.

A large, sturdy hedge wall separates this curated chaos from something much tidier. Here Odette grows herbs in neat rows or appropriately sized pots. She doesn’t cook, as she doesn’t eat, and these herbs are used in potions, for quieting the restless dead, or simply because Odette enjoys them.

This smaller space is also where Odette nurtures special flowering plants she creates to remind her of her dearest friends. Some are rooted properly into the earth but most are potted and carefully arranged around a stone bench where she might sit, wrapped in velvet petals and soft green stems, and feel embraced by friends she dare not touch.

Of all the things that grow in her garden, these unique flowers are her most favorite.

As said, it’s a big garden and it takes a lot of work and thankfully Odette does not work it alone. None of the souls that help her are trapped. Rather, they are often souls who enjoyed gardening in life; or need the transition period from a violent life to a peaceful garden to whatever judgement awaits them. She doesn’t judge, if they wish to linger and work then they linger and work. Never for very long, but they are beloved and she is always grateful for their aid.

Our darling love nun can oft be found sporting overalls and a sun hat (she burns so easily!) humming as she prunes and weeds and waters and admires. Odette constantly hums as she works, but this is true outside the garden as well! See her kneeling beside a disturbed grave, humming hymns of love in abundance as she lovingly wraps bones to lay them to rest. The garden is no different and the plants have heard that very same hymn several times.

And always, the House looms over it all.

Thank you so much for the ask, Ris! Sorry (not really) that is is nearly two pages of me not really answering any of the questions asked (':

TLDR: A little bit of everything! Yes, ones that remind her of her friends often custom-bred or cross-pollinated for unique colors. Yes, but usually only because she enjoys the scent (mint and rosemary) or they’re used in her work. It is impossible for her to pick favorites but the little apple tree she is watching grow that represents her friend Yein is up there. And yes, of course! Odette hums all the time and working in the garden is no exception.