#i have been disgusted by plots in this show. i have been horrified. i have been angry.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

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the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

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when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

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only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

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your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

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after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

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the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

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the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

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the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

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everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (4)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, smut, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That evening she could not sleep; she felt anxious, felt that danger lurked all around her, the darkness in her chamber full of chill and tension. She pressed her lips together lying under the thick furs, recalling for the hundredth time the expression on her uncle's face when he recognised her.

Terror, disbelief, rage, disgust.

She knew that she would be facing him in the throne room the next day anyway, that they would be forced to remind each other of their existence.

She sighed quietly, wondering if her letters had reached him at all.

What if his grandfather or his mother simply did not deliver them to him?

What if his rage was because he thought she had abandoned him?

She felt a quick pounding of her heart, a naïve hope, anything she could grab onto in a situation that seemed to her to have no way out.

She thought she had to visit him, she had to see him, speak to him, end this once and for all, explain to him how she felt, how sorry she was that it had all happened this way.

Just like when she was a child, she slipped out of her chamber, walking ahead in the torchlight. She remembered what time the guards on watch at his quarters exchanged and took the opportunity, with her heart pounding fast, to knock on his door.

She swallowed loudly, horrified to hear the cold, sure, rough come in and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She turned and saw his silhouette sitting by the fire, in his hand the dagger he was skilfully playing with between his fingers, his gaze fixed on her, his eye wide open as if he was anticipating this visit.

She didn't know what she should say, where to begin.

She wasn't sure if she was trembling so much from the cold or from fear.

She tried to repeat to herself that even though he looked different, the same man was sitting in front of her, the one who had stroked her hair all night as a child, soothing her this way when she couldn't fall asleep.

Grasping at these memories she finally choked out what she had come for.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in trembling voice, trying to sound soft and calm, to be the opposite of his aggressive attitude, to make him understand that she was coming in peace.

She shuddered when she saw the dangerous glint in his eye, the dagger in his hand spun around its own axis and curled between his fingers again, an involuntary grimace appeared on his face that resembled a smile but showed that he was furious.

"Yes." He answered finally, and she drew in a loud breath, analysing his answer quickly in her head.

He had received her letters, all of them.

She could see it in his face.

Did he despise them? Did he throw them away? Did he burn them?

"Have you read them?" She asked, wrinkling her eyebrows in helplessness, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of her life.

She saw him settle more comfortably in his chair, lifting his chin high as he stabbed the blade of his knife into the armrest, running it over it, making shivers run through her.

She had the feeling that he had just imagined himself ripping her flesh this way.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He muttered, and she felt a jolt of heat, of disbelief, of both humiliation and desire at the same time, because here he was, just admitting that he'd read her letters more than once, yet he'd never written her back.

She thought it was all a punishment he was inflicting on her – even though he wanted her words, his reply would have shown that he had forgiven her, that he was seeking reconciliation, that he was weak.

It all suddenly became so clear to her that she felt lighter, understanding that there was no moment in which she could do anything more to change his mind, that exactly what was supposed to happen had happened.

She looked around his chamber and moved ahead, noticing that where there had been a small cupboard of books now stood three large, tall, oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick tomes.

"Does your mother-whore know you're here?" She heard his cold, indifferent voice and pressed her lips together at the thought that he was doing it on purpose, that he was aware of what would hurt her, that he knew her too well.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when she spotted the familiar name of the philosopher among his collection and stepped closer, pulling out the book she had borrowed from him when she dared to kiss him for the first time.

"My, as you put it, mother-whore, never knew when I visited you, uncle. I was very determined not to be caught." She said lowly, in a way tired of the fact that she seemed to be speaking to stone, a cold marble to which nothing could reach.

She heard him snort, clearly displeased that his question did not elicit the effect he would have expected from her.

"Do you often visit men like this?" He asked perfunctorily, as if there was an answer in his question, as if it was obvious that she was not waiting for him.

Something in the way he said it, in the superiority in his voice made her feel rage; she moved towards his chair and stood in front of him, looking at him with furrowed brows.

Who was he to speak to her this way?

She saw that he lifted his gaze to her, surprised, apparently completely not expecting her to dare come so close to him, the hand with his dagger froze in mid-motion.

"Have you no shame?" She asked with regret and disapproval. She saw that his nostrils quivered dangerously, his healthy eye turned black, his lips pressed into a thin line.

She knew he was about to say something, something that would make her hate him, make her unable to look at him, and she decided that she would be the first to express her opinion, her suffering.

"I don't know who you are, the man who sits now before me, but if there is even a fragment of the boy I was meant to marry in you, let that boy know that he was and will be the only one in my heart. He was my beloved friend and I failed him. It is hard to live with the thought that someone you loved so deeply has died in a way, but there is neither a grave to pray over nor any hope of peace for his soul. What I fear is that the boy I knew has disappeared among the darkness and is dying in it every day."

She muttered, and although she tried to hold them back, tears of helplessness and despair ran down her cheeks as the last sentence left her lips.

She had lost him, lost him forever, this boy who had soothed her fears, who she had looked up to with such pride and joy, who would never speak to her as this man did now.

It seemed to her that she had put him into a state of complete shock, as he looked at her with his mouth parted, his healthy eye wide open – he was breathing faster, completely frozen, as if he didn't know what to make of her words.

She couldn't believe how much he had changed, his white hair long and beautiful, partly tied back, his scar pale, hidden under a black eye patch, his jaw even more sharply defined, his chin pointed, his healthy eye gleamed in the firelight, his leather tunic and breeches framing his well-built body.

He was a handsome man.

She thought about Daemon's words, about how it was better to rip her heart out than to humiliate herself, but she thought she was unable to do that.

That she needed to feel his closeness this one last time.

It seemed to her that her body threw itself towards him on its own, climbing into his lap, pressing her face and hands against his tunic, his familiar warmth, his scent filled her nostrils.

She heard his dagger slide out of his hand straight onto the stone floor with the loud clang of steel.

For some reason, her body relaxed completely and she burst into sobs, as if those years of suffering and separation had poured out of her like a river; she began to babble and apologise to this little boy who certainly felt alone, who couldn't cope with what had happened and with what he had lost.

She shuddered and hopped up, feeling something hard throb between her thighs, then again and again – she looked at him in disbelief, his gaze terrified, his breath heavy.

She thought she was going to hear him say that she should leave, that she was humiliating herself, that he didn't want to know her, that she was pathetic, but he just stared at her, apparently unable to get a word out.

She looked at his lips – they seemed even fuller and softer to her than they were then and she wondered if they would be as pleasurable if she touched them.

Just this once.

"– can I kiss you? –" She asked so quietly that she herself barely heard the words leave her lips. She saw his pupil narrow, his nostrils twitching restlessly.

She felt a throbbing inside her, as well as in his breeches beneath her when he leaned in slightly, exactly as he had done then, wordlessly involuntarily betraying his will and she threw her hands over his shoulders, pressing her warm, thirsty lips to his in a sweet, loud kiss.

It seemed to her that their bodies were moving on their own, his hips rubbing his twitching erection against her from underneath making her feel something like warm tickling between her thighs.

One, slow, tentative kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth, his hands suddenly on her body, clamping down on her hips and neck as if he wanted to make sure she didn't leave his side.

She shuddered, looking down at him with slightly parted lips, suppressing a moan when she felt his free hand slip shamelessly under the material of her nightgown and clamp down on her naked buttock, rubbing his hardness against her hidden womanhood with slow, uncertain rocking of his hips.

No one had ever touched her like this before, and she wondered if this was his first time, or if perhaps he had already tasted another woman's body, sinking inside the ladies of the court or the servants.

She felt an overpowering jealousy and pain at the thought, at the thought that he might have desired and taken another, and she thought that this night he would desire only her.

That she would spend the night with him and then leave, surrendering her fate to destiny.

"− uncle −" She mumbled, responding with movements of her hips to his treatments, feeling her insides begin to swell once she had decided what was going to happen.

He waved his hand into her hair and kissed her, greedily, aggressively, quickly, his slick tongue forced it's way deep into her throat.

It had nothing to do with what they had done as children – now their lips teased each other with a loud click of their saliva, his tongue trailing over her palate, licking her encouragingly, inviting her to let their tips touch.

They licked each other like this, panting and moaning into each other's mouths – she let him push her hips closer to him, rubbing his hard cock against her with increasingly intrusive, shameless movements as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his body.

Gods, he wanted this.

She shuddered when she felt his hand pull at the ties of her nightgown, in slow, gentle movement slipping it off her shoulders. He pulled away, panting loudly, to look at the sight of her bare chest, her plump little breasts; she gasped quietly and trembled when his fingers timidly run and squeezed one of them.

She felt something sticky run down her thighs onto the material of his breeches, felt the moisture between her legs.

"− uh − it tickles − here −" She mumbled helplessly, stroking his jaw with her thumb, not knowing completely what she should do next, somehow asking him to spare her the humiliation and take the initiative. She shuddered as his fingers ran over her lust-swollen, puffy lips.

"− it's understandable − you missed your uncle − hm? −" He asked softly, tenderly, startling her completely – she felt the muscles inside her clench around nothing at his words, the tension in her lower abdomen was unbearable.

She didn't know when he took her in his arms and stood up with her, when he laid her down on his bed; she watched as he took off his tunic, commanding her to lie on her back, and she obeyed him.

She squirmed in horror as he suddenly grabbed her thighs and spread them in front of him, lifting the material of her nightgown up, leaning his face between them.

"− Aemond − s-stop, uncle, what are you −" She mumbled in a trembling voice, trying to push him away, to protect herself; she tilted her head back with a sweet, surprised moan when she felt his rough tongue run over her puffy folds, licking what was leaking out of her.

"− o-oh, gods −" She mewled losing immediately the urge to interrupt him, laying obediently on her back and clasping her hands in his wonderfully soft white hair, pushing against him with her hips, listening to the sounds of sucking and licking, whimpering in front of him like a whore, understanding that it was obvious that he wanted to give her pleasure, that he wanted to satisfy her.

"− have you touched yourself here? −" He huffed with some kind of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been dreaming of this moment all his life, of her at his mercy, with her thighs spread wide shamelessly in front of his face.

She swallowed loudly at the memory of the night she had sunk her hand into her heat seeking fulfilment, thinking of him, the way he looked now, the way he still desired her, and helplessly nodded her head.

She knew he would recognise immediately if she lied.

She heard him murmur with satisfaction at this information, as if he was perfectly aware, looking at what was happening to her now, who she was thinking of at the time.

She moaned in pleasure as his nose ran over her puffy bud hidden between her soft folds; she clenched her hands in his hair trying to push him away as he tightened his lips around it, licking and sucking it, making it almost painful. His hand reached for her mouth to silence her, but she clamped her fingers on his wrist, stopping him.

"− please, uncle, too much − too much −" She cried out pleadingly, trying to pull away from him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he released her from between his lips, looking at her in shock, apparently writing down in his mind that this place was extremely sensitive and delicate.

He hummed under his breath, returning to his earlier caresses, tentatively and slowly sliding his tongue into her tight, hot interior. She threw her head back, surprised at how pleasurable it was, her walls throbbing and clenching like crazy around nothing as he licked her shamelessly with a quiet, lewd clicks of his saliva and her moisture.

"− uncle − mghmm −" She babbled desperately, feeling something approaching, the tension and tickling in her lower abdomen unbearable, her hips rocking to the motion of his mouth.

She prayed shamelessly to the gods that he would just keep going.

"− it'll be wonderful to feel it clench around my fat cock one day − don't you think, sweet niece? −" He murmured between the flicks of his tongue, and she felt his words do something to her; she raised herself up on her elbow throwing her head back, feeling the wonderful, throbbing pleasure spill over her body in waves. She moaned some words, probably his name, feeling stunned and hot with fulfilment, her thighs trembling in his hands.

She fell on his cold bed, panting heavily, begging him to stop, but he made sure to lick her dry, as if he took unspeakable pleasure in her state and pleas.

He rose at last, breathing loudly, wiping his face, his eye wide open as if he couldn't believe what had just happened, with a quick, desperate movement he untied his breeches.

"Touch me." He muttered grabbing her hand; she squealed quietly when she saw for the first time what the erection of a man looked like. He tightened her fingers around its thick root, the tip of it pink and glistening, dripping from his own juices.

She breathed loudly, squeezing it with the kind of movements he was forcing on her with his palm, up and down, feeling it pulsing and twitching in her grasp, that it was swelling more and more, his breath erratic and heavy, full of desire.

"− fuck − fuck, come here −" He breathed out, grabbing her by her hair, pressing her lips to his in an aggressive, frantic, sticky kiss, tasting her own wetness on his palate, his hips rocking aggressively to the rhythm of her hand.

"− don't fucking stop − faster − fuck-fuck-fuck −" He hissed and groaned helplessly with some kind of immense relief, clenching his eye, his lips parted in pleasure; she squealed when she felt something wet spill out of him onto her nightgown, startling her completely.

He leaned in to kiss her, to reassure her.

"− easy, it's just me − shhh −" He whispered between one lazy, moist kiss of their lips and another, releasing her at last, her hand all sticky with his warm spend.

He ordered that nothing was to be wasted and that she was to lick it off, so she did so without a word of objection.

His seed was slightly salty and smelled like nothing she had felt before.

Like sin.

He watched her every move with satisfaction.

"− you are going to spend the night with me −" He commanded, and she nodded, not having the strength to oppose him or think about the consequences.

She didn't care.

"Mmm." He hummed contentedly, sighing quietly, pulling her by her arm along with him, laying down on his back, letting her embrace him.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged her face to his chest, to where his heart was – his fingers began to stroke her hair, just as they had then, years ago.

He knew she loved it.

They lay in silence for a long time, their silhouettes surrounded only by the warm light of the fire burning in the distance.

"– I missed you –" She whispered at last and heard his hand freeze in stillness.

She was frightened that she had frustrated him and felt relieved when, a moment later, he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, stroking her further with his warm palm.

It took a long time before he said anything, as if he needed to think it all over, to put it all back together in his head.

"Do you still wish to marry me?" He asked at last, apparently assuming that what the others were planning didn't matter and that he had to have a good understanding of what had happened between them, whether they wanted the same thing.

She lifted her head, looking at him already without fear – even though his gaze was cold and his face stern, she already knew what lurked underneath, that if he had built a wall around himself as a child, it was now a giant fortress separating him from everyone else that could not be taken by storm.

What they had done didn't change the fact that they still didn't know if they could trust each other.

"Yes." She whispered, tracing her fingers over the area underneath where his heart was beating. He looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to make sure she was telling the truth, and then he grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a warm, lingering kiss on it.

"− you have such big hands −" She whispered, looking in awe at the clearly defined lines of his veins. The inside of his palm was rough – she thought it was the fault of his daily holding of the sword.

"− they're not as delicate as yours − your skin feels like it's made of silk −" He murmured with some kind of admiration, gazing at the innocent play of their fingers brushing against each other in the air.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, the elation and pain, thinking of all the years she had dreamed of him coming back for her, of telling her that he still loved her. She felt involuntarily tears under her eyelids and pressed her lips together, trying to hold them back, however to no avail.

They flowed down her cheeks one by one, and she felt her chest begin to vibrate as did her breathing. He glanced at her, hearing this and they looked at each other for a moment in silence.

He lifted his free hand and with a slow, tender movement of his thumb rubbed the moisture from her warm skin.

"Don't cry. Come here." He said lowly, grabbing her waist and pulling her close, his hand slipped into her hair hiding her face in the hollow of his neck, her bare breasts pressed against his chest.

She breathed quietly, focusing on his wonderful, familiar scent and the embrace in which, even though she shouldn't, she felt safe.

It seemed so right.

"Tomorrow, Luke will lose his rights to Driftmark. Justice will be done, and I will announce that our betrothal was never officially called off. We will marry in the tradition of our ancestors, ending at last these years of misery." He said calmly, as if he thought it was the only sensible thing to do – his hand trailed involuntarily through her hair and down her bare shoulder, but his mind was far from her.

She swallowed loudly and tensed all over hearing his words, words concerning her younger brother's inheritance which, after all, Corlys had passed on to him, obviously aware that they bore his name but were not of his blood.

He felt her hesitation immediately and began to breathe louder, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her arm.

"Say something." He muttered in an anxious, trembling voice, but she didn't know what she was supposed to answer, her heart pounding like mad, tears welling up again in the corners of her eyes.

She thought with horror that she had made the mistake of assuming that the fact that he could forgive her meant that he could also forgive Luke.

She had noticed it then, in the courtyard, seeing the way he looked at her brother, but she preferred to push it deep into her consciousness, to pretend that it would all be easily resolved, that they would live together in peace and prosperity.

"What will you do if he doesn't lose his rights to Driftmark?" She asked quietly, feeling her voice tremble with every word she spoke.

This time it was his body that tensed all over; she heard him draw in air loudly, his heart pounding like mad under her hand.

"Is your mother-whore plotting something again? Hm?" He growled, gripping her cheeks painfully tight in his hand, forcing her to look at him in a sharp, aggressive motion.

She felt that familiar terror again, fear at the sight of madness, darkness and hatred lurking in his gaze.

"– n-no, I swear –" She whimpered with difficulty. She saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils quivering restlessly in a quick, laboured breath, his eye opened wide.

"Is she the one who sent you to me? To soften me up, to fucking distract me, to divert my attention?" He hissed with growing anger and a note of desperation, a sense of betrayal that escaped his throat as his fingers dug warningly into her skin.

She thought he had completely lost his mind.

Seeing her state, the way she said the words, his grip on her face softened, his thumb ran tenderly over her soft, tear-wet skin.

"– no, Aemond, she wants me to marry someone else, she doesn't know I'm here –" She cried helplessly, recognising that he could do whatever he wanted with her, beat her or kill her.

Nothing could change the fact that she was heartbroken.

"No. No, don't cry. Don't cry, my love. Don't cry." He whispered drawing her to him again and she burst out into loud sobs, seeking comfort in his arms; he kissed the top of her head again and again repeating that he believed her, that he just had to be sure.

Whatever would happen, the boy she knew had never been violent towards her.

"I would never hurt you." He whispered, and her words burst out of her mouth before she had time to think them through, full of pain and disappointment.

"You have done it now and you will do it again." She muttered lifting herself up, putting the sleeves of her nightgown over her breasts, wanting to lift herself off his bed. His hand clamped on her arm stopped her – he raised himself up on his elbow with her, however this time he was careful with how much force he used.

"No. I didn't mean to. Gods, I swear." He muttered, gripping her cheek in his palm, clearly wanting her to look at him, but she shook her head.

"You desire me, but you're not in love with me. You abhor me and whenever you forget that I can give you pleasure, you will hurt me." She choked out between sobs, getting up from his bed; he got up behind her, catching her waist, hugging her back.

She felt his warm, shaky breath on her skin, his hands quivering, his face pressed against her neck.

How could she be so blind, to think that after all this time he would look upon her as an equal?

"I have waited for you for so many years. Don't leave, it won't happen again." He muttered in a trembling, pleading voice.

She knew it was a lie, that he was desperate now, that if only he could be sure she wouldn't escape him, he would do whatever he wanted with her.

"You're right to think I was never worthy of you. Forgive me that you had to endure such humiliation because of me for so many years." She choked out in pain, pulling herself out of his embrace, walking out of his chamber, startling his guards, not caring if they told the Queen of her visit or not.

She returned to her quarters and threw herself on her bed, quivering and sobbing with despair breaking her heart, realising with pain that there was never any hope for them.

He did not love her.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[edenmemes]

baldur's gate 3 starters (part 2)

part 2 / ? .

❝ i’m also worried about me, but i somehow seem to be worried about you more. ❞ ❝ you put the stars to shame. let’s sit here a little while - i want to drink you in. ❞ ❝ i’d tell you not to get in trouble, but i suspect it will find you whether you like it or not. ❞ ❝ well, this seems as good a time as any for me to stop babbling on. ❞ ❝ i just….need some air…clear my head. ❞ ❝ it’s been a long time since i shed a tear. i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had a feeling you’d show up. it’s sort of our thing. like it’s fate or something. ❞ ❝ i do appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's try to restrain ourselves a little. ❞ ❝ if that was an attempt at flirting, i should let you know i prefer the strong, silent type. ❞ ❝ no matter how far you come, you’re still on the road to ruin. ❞ ❝ i thought you a hunter. wrong. you’re prey - small. snivelling. pathetic. ❞ ❝ and what am i owed? what about the injustices i’ve suffered - am i not entitled to anything? ❞ ❝ i can’t help but feel the strangest twinge of disgust as i look upon you. ❞ ❝ i trust that you will continue to remember who is really on your side. ❞ ❝ better a short life built on truth than immortality woven of lies. ❞ ❝ i won’t make excuses. i can’t make amends. but i want to help, if you’ll let me. ❞ ❝ gods, it’s horrifying…and a touch fascinating. ❞ ❝ there are many names for you --- and all of them inspire dread. ❞ ❝ destiny is at your door; won’t you at least twitch the curtain? ❞ ❝ the gravest crimes committed in this world are committed for love. a hunger crueller than bloodlust. ❞ ❝ you’ve got a backbone, and the makings of a leader. ❞ ❝ revenge sounds so sweet until you’ve taken it. then all you have is…no one left to blame. ❞ ❝ some mistakes can’t be resolved with an apology. some mistakes, you have to carry with you, forever. ❞ ❝ you’re plotting something, aren’t you? come on then - out with it. ❞ ❝ this is not good, if i may state the obvious. ❞ ❝ think of all we’ve been through just to get to this moment. that wasn’t luck. that was us. ❞ ❝ feel like i should laugh but i’m just too godsdamned tired. ❞ ❝ there is something i lost…no, had taken from me. i want it all back. ❞ ❝ careful - you’re in very real danger of hurting my feelings. ❞ ❝ one thing i’ve learned - real saviours never label themselves as such. ❞ ❝ less thinking of bad thoughts, and more breaking of bad bones. ❞ ❝ i rather like interfering. it’s kind of my thing. ❞ ❝ evil is evil, even if it once was innocent. ❞ ❝ you know, i've been catching myself smiling more lately. i think that's your fault.. ❞ ❝ oh, i’m no innocent. but evil? you tell me. ❞ ❝ i still want to believe you’re better than that. but even i am having my doubts. ❞ ❝ i can’t afford to lose my nerve. safer to just not think, and keep forging ahead. ❞ ❝ when all this is over, will you stay with me? for good? ❞ ❝ this is not good, if i may state the obvious. ❞ ❝ is there a reason you're always such an utter drip? do you have some sort of condition? honestly, it's like you hate good news. ❞ ❝ all of nature’s beauty pales in comparison to you. ❞ ❝ i can’t save you from yourself. it hurts terribly, but i can’t. ❞ ❝ if i seem suddenly flush with hope and soft feeling, you have only yourself to blame. ❞ ❝ is there good and evil within us all? ❞

❝ i’ve been watching you fight. your skills are improving. ❞ ❝ you know, for all the sense of dread and horror seeping through this place, i really feel quite at home here. ❞ ❝ and you? you’re wholly without vice or sin or the occasional lapse in judgement? ❞ ❝ i wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are. but i do. ❞ ❝ one might say you’re paragon of luck. i’ll be there when it runs out. ❞ ❝ i've always had a soft spot for the confident ones…they always disappoint though. ❞ ❝ i concealed nothing from you. i simply left out the details that were not pertinent. ❞ ❝ you’re an odd friend. but, i suppose, a friend still. ❞ ❝ i won’t let you do this. i won’t let you win. ❞ ❝ you are my puppet. make no mistake. without me, you have no value. ❞ ❝ well, this seems like a lovely little spot. the sense of impending doom aside. ❞ ❝ whoever your enemies are, they have good reason to fear you. ❞ ❝ this place is astonishing, a bard’s tale made real. ❞ ❝ i may not regret my actions, but i do regret that they were necessary. ❞ ❝ experience has taught me that no matter how bleak things look, there’s always hope. ❞ ❝ if this adventure has taught me anything, it’s that there are things in this world more valuable than power. ❞ ❝ a wise man learns from his mistakes, and strives not to repeat them. ❞ ❝ no more hiding things from me. agreed? ❞ ❝ my friend. my companion. i adore you. ❞ ❝ your face is sour. by all means leave, if i am so distasteful. ❞ ❝ careful, it’s dark around here. would be a terrible shame to lose you forever. ❞ ❝ you startled me. i…i was miles away. ❞ ❝ you have to know who i was. you have to know who i really am. ❞ ❝ nothing special, of course. you’re only the first person who i truly care for. ❞ ❝ you’ve got a backbone, and the makings of a leader. ❞ ❝ anything you ask, i’ll answer as honestly as i can. ❞

[locketsvault]

「 AYATO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS 」

pairing: ayato kirishima x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, human reader, relationship headcanons and scenarios, sfw relationship headcanons, nsfw relationship headcanons

warnings: angst warning for our emo boy, canon gore, nsfw content in the second half of this post, it will be marked so you can skip if uncomfortable! aged up ayato when I get to nsfw content. sexual words used in the nsfw part. not proof read.

request: hii! if it’s not too much could you write something with ayato (tokyo ghoul)? nsfw or sfw, up to you! I’m dying for ayato content ahaha ;; thank youu! (original request found here.)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I said this in the original request post but I’ll say it here too. I’m very rusty with the plot of tokyo ghoul so forgive me if he’s ooc! I’m also anime only since I’ve been having a hard time reading the manga, though I do know what happens in the manga vs the anime. (If anyone wants me to write a proper fic on how you guys met just ask, I’d honestly love to).

// how the relationship started ⌇˚.༄

⮑ The first time you two met you were walking home from school and got attacked by a rogue ghoul. This ghoul was hunting in a no hunt zone, and you just to happened to be his prey. Ayato was surveying the area when he heard you scream and smelled human blood. Knowing who’s hunting ground it was and that it was probably the rogue ghoul he went over to see what was going on. He was surprised to see that you were fighting back, despite being hold down by the ghouls kagune and seriously injured. You actually managed to injure the ghoul too.

⮑ He took care of the ghoul trying to kill you. While half conscious you heard him mock the guy for hunting in an area with a high count of aogiri members, before tearing his head off. Right after he did you passed out from blood loss. Usually Ayato would’ve killed you or just left you to bleed out, but something about you refusing to give up struck a cord with him. So he sneakily dropped you off at the emergency room and left.

⮑ Next time you guys meet is months later, you recovered fully from the attack, only having scars to show your survival. You were sitting at a coffee shop as the sun set, as a familiar blue haired boy walked inside. At first he didn’t recognize you, and after feeling your gaze on him for a while he turns to yell at you. But suddenly the memories hit him, and he notices that your look is anything but malicious. He decided to bite back his tongue.

⮑ You two would constantly run into each other at that coffee shop. You always have him a genuine smile or silent greeting as he walked by. He found you very peculiar, how you weren’t afraid of him even though he knew damn well you knew he was a ghoul. You didn’t seem uncomfortable around his friends too, and he could tell you knew they were ghouls too.

⮑ You approached him first, having memorized his order. You gave him his coffee one of the times he came in, and thanked him for saving your life. He ofc made a negative quip about how he could care less if you died or not, but you didn’t seem to care. You intrigued him even more. So he told himself he’d give you some of his time. He’d always come to hang out with you, and without realizing it he started falling for you. He hated it.

⮑ He started pushing you away and ignoring you. He stopped showing up to the coffee shop, but he couldn’t help but watch you from afar to make sure you’re safe. One night though you get attacked again when he’s patrolling. And he absolutely loses it. He tears the other ghoul to pieces like a feral animal. He almost hurts you when you walk over to try to comfort him, he’s that crazy.

⮑ He genuinely expected you to be horrified or find him disgusting. Instead you start crying and cup his bloody cheek. His kagune is fully out, his ghoul eyes bright and burning into you, his hair absolutely disheveled. Yet you didn’t seem to care. After you cupped his cheek he could feel his heart pounding, and he slowly started to calm down.

⮑ He let his head fall into your neck as you proceed to hug him, telling him it’s okay over and over. He buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent. He was surprised when he realized the desire he felt over your scent was something quite different than he was used to. He unconsciously started nipping at your neck and scenting you, hoping to protect you as tears streamed down his face.

⮑ That night you two finally come clean about your feelings. And he, reluctantly after lots of reassurance, decides he wants to try being in a relationship with you.

// sfw relationship headcanons ⌇˚.༄

⮑ At the start of your relationship he was very distant and awkward. He wasn’t used to affection and had never been in a committed relationship before.

⮑ He has a habit of stalking you, but not because he doesn��t trust you, he’s just that scared of losing you. You ofc know he does this and you let him, he’s your little protector.

⮑ In front of everyone else he’s an absolute brat, he misbehaves left and right and is very dangerous and powerful. But with you he’s an absolute puppy. Just one touch and he folds.

⮑ You’re the reason he’s able to keep it together as much as he does. You’re always there for him no matter what. Your arms are always open waiting for him when he comes home.

⮑ Speaking of home you two secretly live together once you move out of your parents house. He keeps your relationship as much of a secret as possible. But you don’t mind.

⮑ He panicked the first time you saw him eat leftovers at home. Knowing he eats humans is one thing, seeing it is another. He was scared you’d be uncomfortable or say something inappropriate. So he puffed up like a porcupine ready to defend himself. Instead, you reassured him it was okay. Surprisingly you sat down with him and started eating as well.

⮑ Now though if he eats he will sit next to you nonchalantly and sometimes rest his head in your shoulder as he does. You make him feel that safe.

⮑ He confides in you about his familial issues and all about his big sister. You do your best to help him talk better with Touka, it’s not easy though.

⮑ He’s actually very affectionate when he opens up. He loves hugging and holding you, along with giving you kisses. He tends to greet you with forehead kisses, it’s nice. :>

⮑ He’s pretty good with keeping you up to date on what’s going on in the ghoul world, and you help him with navigating the world as a human.

⮑ You balance each other very well.

// nsfw relationship headcanons ⌇˚.༄

⮑ Ghoul smut, yippee.

⮑ I think we can all agree on the ghouls and pheromones and instincts and stuff like that. I’ve actually read a bunch of stuff on ghouls on this app but it’s been months and I can’t remember so forgive me.

⮑ He’s very very verryyyy possessive. Even from the start.

⮑ He won’t act on it though, he’s not ready and doesn’t want to scare you off. But boy does he get the urge all the time.

⮑ Blood kink. He loves to taste you on his lips. Biting kink too. He will leave marks, and they’ll almost always be enough to draw blood. With consent ofc.

⮑ He actually almost lost control over himself the first time you two made out.

⮑ I should probably mention you turn him on fast. Your smile, your scent, your body language. All of it gets under his skin.

⮑ Your first sexual encounter with Ayato was in an alleyway actually. It was night time, he was walking you to your shared apartment. Somehow, you ended up pressed against the wall, holding onto your boyfriend as his fingers worked magic on you. You desperately tried to stay silent since you were in public but you struggled. Even if he had little to no prior experience he’s naturally talented and knows exactly how you work.

⮑ Your first intercourse was actually kind of sweet. It was when you first moved into your apartment, your building had rooftop access. So you two camped out on the roof to watch the stars. It started off with hand holding and innocent kisses, yet somehow he ended up between your legs pounding into you.

⮑ He prefers doing the work and being dominant when it comes to sexual activity. But sometimes he will let you on top. He can’t resist the sight of you riding him.

⮑ He’s very touchy, his hands are always all over you. No matter the position you can feel his hand sliding up your inner thighs or sides.

⮑ The first time you asked him to fuck you as a ghoul he was hesitant, worried you’d be scared. He was shocked instead when you came hard the first time. He will usually let his eyes show, but sometimes he will let out his kagune too upon request.

⮑ Ayato is average length and thick, and he knows how to use it. He loves his cock, I’m sorry but he does. He loves when you try to stroke him off, or when you get down on your knees for him instead. But most of all he loves the look on your face when he makes you cum with it.

⮑ Ghouls have extra strength so he has to be careful with you, there are definitely some times where he’s accidentally hurt you while learning your limits.

⮑ He doesn’t use protection. He knows you’re both clean, and if you’re afab since you’re human he honestly believes he can’t knock you up. That being said though, he loves breeding you.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

[strawberrycarat]

I think Alicent’s plot would’ve been more interesting if, instead of taking her screen time to show us her swimming (nothing really important for the plot) or talking with Larys (those conversation lead nowhere since the blackmailing thing with Alicent’s feet was long forgotten in season 1) we could’ve had this scenes:

Her when Aemond returned and gave the news of Lucerys’ death. Her reaction, her disgust in her eyes to Aemond’s actions would’ve justified Aemond’s feeling rejected by his mother and going to the brothel (I don’t know, maybe Aemond trying to touch her arm to reassure her and her going backwards).

Alicent IS a very religious person. Instead of all of Criston’s post-sex-guilty scenes (use only 1 or whatever), she could’ve been seen praying for forgiveness for her son (Aemond) since he’s now a Kinslayer (it is something really horrendous in Westeros, a line no one should cross…, it’s literally a stigma Aemond has to live with the rest of his life. I don’t understand why they didn’t show more importance to it in the series - why Aegon is not a bit intimidated by it or Alicent horrified - Alicent acts pretty much normal, only not wanting Aemond in the council room at first but she doesn’t act… afraid of him? Until he takes the Prince Regent place) it would’ve make more sense of Alicent talking about Aemond’s soul with a Septon or something like that so we can understand Alicent would never see her son the same and she knows he’s dangerous, even for his own family.

After Jaehaerys’ death, instead of acting victim, Alicent could’ve point out Aemond’s curse as Kinslayer as the culprit. Aemond could’ve visit often the brothel and that would’ve been more justified (and, why did Ryan forgot to add Aemond talking or reacting to his nephew’s death….? Like no scene with Helaena or at least with him watching baby Jaehaera grabbing one of Jaehaerys’s toys or whatever to make him feel even more guilty?)

Alicent scene of her in horror during the small council with Prince Regent would’ve felt more organic then. She could realise after Aegon’s burns that Aemond is truly a menace and she should be afraid of him and that would justify her trying to protect Helaena, not wanting her to go ride her dragon with Aemond because the last time he did it, his sibling almost die. Add Maelor being in Helaena’s belly? Even more afraid for Helaena since Aemond feels he’s about to be king If Aegon dies, but if Helaena is pregnant and gives birth to a boy…

So, if they wanted to go with Rhaenyra’s reunion in the last episode, she could’ve told her to kill Aemond instead of Aegon (since killing Aegon would only make people think the greens didn’t surrender and they could want crown Aemond and Daeron as Aegon’s successors).

Also, instead of Alicent feeling ‘at peace’ in the last scene, she could’ve had a meltdown… she’s the one that scare Aegon all his life telling him that Rhaenyra would kill him cause he was a menace… and now she will… because his own mother made him king and then went behind his back to plot with Rhaenyra to save only Helaena and Jaehaera. She should feel at least a bit guilty.

I really like Olivia’s acting… but honestly, half of her scenes in the season are not useful for the plot. The show was 2 episodes shorter and still they decided to show us Alicent swimming? Or having sex multiple times with Criston? Or speaking with Larys about nothing? I can accept that in a show with 10 or 12 episodes, but don’t waste any screen time in a show with only 8 episodes.

[hannieween]

closing night | backstage series | l.sm

He felt like home. Like coming home after a tiring day, you can finally relax and unwind. The comfort of his affectionate embrace is everything you've been longing for in the last few days.

♡︎ pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: fluff, smut mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ aus: theatre performer seokmin, fake dating with benefits ♡︎ word count: 12.8k

↣ part 1, part 2, part 3, navi post

₊🎧: show me - devita | slow dance - shownu x hyungwon

₊ tagging: @aaniag @madein97line @cottoncheol ty ty ty ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ♡︎ ₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ warnings: swearing, pet names: noodle, baby (hers), smut with plot, soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, dirty talk, making out, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m, f), swallowing, a bit of praise kink (f), a bit of hand kink. | again, this is not proofread so i apologise for any mistakes or inconsistencies

part 4

Three years before.

The gentle sounds of the nearby river flowing lulled you into a peaceful nap.

As you slowly woke up again, confused as to why you were in a park, you felt gentle fingers brush your hair. A warm voice singing a tune over and over again.

You were lying on the grass, your head resting on Seokmin's lap. Then you remembered that you were on the park with your friends to wind down after a long practice session for a course that was important to you.

There was a small mark on Seokmin's jeans where your drool had landed. Ashamed, you reincorporated in the grass, the back of your hand wiping away the drool on the corner of your mouth.

"I drooled on you," you muttered, feeling a bit groggy still.

"I know, I felt it. Disgusting," you heard him say with a chuckle.

You turned to see him. His dark brown hair was hiding beneath a green cap.

"Sorry," you mustered a shy smile.

"I'm only joking, noodle," he reassured.

You noticed that Soonyoung and Seungkwan were nowhere to be seen. And the sun was no longer at its highest point in the sky.

"How long did I sleep for?" you asked, fumbling on the grass for your phone.

"I don't know. You have a very deep sleep, though," he commented with a chuckle. "Some kids came here with loud speakers to do a dance challenge and you didn't even budge. Was funny."

Embarrassed, you found your phone in your backpack. "Haven't been sleeping lately. I've been pulling an all-nighter this week for finals."

You saw that it was already 4PM. So you had slept in Seokmin's lap for about 3 to 4 hours. You felt your heart drop.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked, horrified that you had slept for hours on his lap.

His lips pressed in a small smile, he shrugged. "I thought you'd needed it," he went to grab his things, and stood up. "Hungry? D'you wanna go grab something to eat with me? I'm buying."

"I uh... thank you," he held out a hand to help you stand. "But I should go home. I have to keep studying," you muttered shyly, brushing the dirt and grass off your clothes.

Seokmin had been a very attentive friend lately. After months of you being in their friend group, you had grown really close to him. And besides letting you sleep on his lap for hours, he'd been making sure you eat, that you get home safe and sometimes he brings you coffee when he knows he'll find you in the library.

His usual response was that you had helped him a lot with homework and assessments at university, and that he felt the need to pay you back all the time. As much of his explanation was correct, you did not want to dig any further.

"That's okay," he shrugged again. "But you've been pushing yourself too hard lately. I don't want our noodle having a burn out for being an overachiever," he cooed, dropping an arm on your shoulders as you walked through the park, beside the river.

"It's this stupid art history final 'm worried about," you mumbled, trying not to think too much of his arm draped in your shoulders.

"Don't worry, noodle. It's just a test. It won't matter in a year, or in a month," he chanted carelessly.

"But–maybe you're right. But it matters to me now," you mentioned.

"I can help you study," he suggested, dropping his arm from your shoulders.

"The last time you helped me study you fell asleep in the library," you reminded him, but couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"And you let Soonyoung paint my face with your markers," he pouted. "You're right, I shouldn't help you."

You laughed, remembering the pictures of him asleep on the library with doodles on his face.

"We can grab milkshakes and you help me study for a bit. Fair trade?" you suggested.

"Or, I can help you study today and you come with me for the job fair next week," he countered.

"I'll go with you to the job fair either way, we don't have to trade that," you said.

Seokmin has been anxious about that job fair for weeks now. Apparently some theatre companies and different acting agencies will be there and he wanted to make some good impressions, but he couldn't do it alone.

"Promise you'll come with me?" he asked.

You suppressed a smile. "Sure."

He held up his pinky finger out to you and you scoffed, he held it closer between you, insisting. "You've been standing me up lately, don't wanna risk it."

You intertwined your pinky with his. "I promise."

"Good. Now, milkshakes..."

Your chuckle was interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket, pulling it out from your pocket you went to check it.

[4:19 PM] youngho ♡: bbgirl [4:19 PM] youngho ♡: wya? [4:20 PM] youngho ♡: i'm outside your building

"Oh, crap," you muttered, and Seokmin leaned to peek at your screen. "Sorry, can we move our study sesh to tomorrow? I totally forgot I had a date with Youngho."

Seokmin coughed, masking his chuckle. "Sure, I'm free tomorrow," he muttered awkwardly. "I thought you said you called it off with Youngho 'cause he was a mess."

"He is," you muttered. "I decided to give him a second chance."

"Why?" Seokmin's frown deepened.

You shrugged. "He's kinda cute. I don't know."

Seokmin snorted.

"What?" you asked, a shy smile appearing on your lips.

"Nothing, nothing," his smile faded as he looked at the ground while he walked beside you. "Can I ask you something?"

You were taken aback for a minute, seeing that Seokmin got serious all of a sudden. "Sure, what is it?"

He was biting his lower lip, looking at the sidewalk as you continued walking toward the bus stop. "Do you see this thing with Youngho going somewhere?"

"Oof. Don't know. Don't think so," you shrugged. "Maybe it's just a fling. Why?"

He bit his lower lip, looking a bit lost in thought. "Dunno. I was just thinking that's kind of difficult for me to date lately."

"That reminds me," you mentioned before crossing the street with him at your side. "Didn't you tell me you were going to ask Seoyeon out?"

"Who?" he muttered, his mouth pouting. He shook his head slightly. "Ah, yeah. I didn't."

"Why not?" you frowned. His face looked deep in thought.

"I forgot," he muttered.

You narrowed your eyes as you both waited for the bus for you. "Did you chicken out, Lee Seokmin?"

He smiled sheepishly. "No," he mumbled. "I just forgot."

"She thinks you're cute! You should get to know her," you landed soft slap on his shoulder. "She is nice. I like her."

"Maybe you should ask her out," he muttered, the tips of his ears bright red.

"That's not what I meant!" you whined. "Come on, Dk!"

"What if I don't like her at all? I want to ask someone I know I like," he murmured shyly.

The bus was approaching the stop. The screech of the brakes almost drowned out his voice, but you managed to catch his words.

"Then you should go ahead and do it," you replied simply with a smile. "That's me. I'll see you later, Dk!"

You waved goodbye as you boarded the bus, choosing a seat where you could still catch a glimpse of him. He smiled back at you, a bittersweet smile.

Present day.

It has been just a few days since you last saw Seokmin. But he's been living in your mind every day, making you miss him with every second that passed.

You attempted to maintain your daily routine, and keeping yourself occupied proved effective, for the most part. However, there were days when you felt terrible, and Seungkwan couldn't help but notice, persistently badgering you about it until your shift at the coffee shop concluded.

It was the last week of your season before the last night of show. It's been six weeks since you and Seokmin started fake dating. And four days since he called it off, confessing that he had broken the promise he made to you.

That promise meant that your fake relationship would be only just for fun. No real feelings.

You tried to keep your mind off the memory of him. You were in the middle of brewing coffee, since you haven't been sleeping well for the past few days.

The buzzing of your phone snapped you out of your train of thought.

[10:21 AM] soonie: i got the role [10:21 AM] soonie: ╥﹏╥ [10:22 AM] soonie: did u get the role too [10:27 AM] soonie: don't leave me on read

Those were the messages you had already read. Ignoring him was not always easy, given his insistence. However, his rapid-fire texts sometimes gave you a headache.

[10:40 AM] soonie: sigh [10:40 AM] you: i got the role too soonie [10:41 AM] soonie: we're kissing ig 🤮🤮 [10:41 AM] you: it's just 1 night every week, chill [10:41 AM] soonie: FOR 7 WEEKS [10:41 AM] you: it's just a simple kiss soonie [11:42 AM] soonie: WHAT WILL I SAY AT YOUR WEDDING FEAST [10:42 AM] soonie: scratch that [10:42 AM] soonie: how will i be able to look at dk in the eye after i kiss his girl ? [10:42 AM] soonie: 🤮

Soonyoung obviously didn't know that you and Seokmin weren't in a relationship, he didn't even know that it was all completely fake. You didn't know how he'd react. But you decided not to tell Soonyoung anything yet.

You got an email confirming you had gotten the role earlier in the morning. So you'll be Satine for 7 weeks. And not only that, you'll have to extensively prepare for the shows.

Now that the company recently acquired a bigger production team and acquired the permissions and rights to adapt more popular works into theatre, you had the opportunity to get bigger roles.

This was a big opportunity for you. It meant bigger audiences, larger shows, larger runs. Training, classes, reading, learning scripts, work, work, work.

But it was okay, you needed to be busy.

The reason why Soonyoung was freaking out was because you'll have to kiss him for one particular scene. From what you knew, it was a passionate kiss. But you two were actors, kissing people for a scene was normal.

When you kissed Seokmin for the first time, you were acting. You were pretending to be his girl for a night to make your friends see that you were over your ex.

But even going back to the memory, it wasn't like acting on a stage. You felt something. Whenever Seokmin touched you, kissed you, you felt things that you usually didn't feel on stage.

Did he feel the same things you did when you first kissed?

The mere recollection of him caused your body to ache, and you physically recoiled from the memory. This same feeling had been happening ever since Seokmin left your apartment that night he confessed his feelings for you.

Pain. Fear. Regret.

But you couldn't quite put your finger on why.

Seokmin was your best friend. He has been for years now and you were in the brink of losing him to your bad choices. You knew that having sex with him blurred the lines of your friendship with every encounter you had. But you didn't seem to care in that moment, now you regret it.

You never intended for this to go so far. In the beginning of it all, you just thought it was a fun little secret you had with Seokmin. A fake relationship between two friends who like to fuck. The first time you had sex with Seokmin, it was purely that. Just sex.

All because you wanted people to shut up about your cheating ex. You didn't even feel something for your ex anymore, so you didn't think that you were using Seokmin as a rebound. But it felt wrong.

So, it was a particular shitty day for you. You didn't even felt like celebrating the news of your new important role.

Later that day you had your shift. You dragged yourself to the coffee shop, when you arrived fifteen minutes late, you knew what would happen.

"There you are," Seungkwan said, putting his phone in his pocket. "I've been calling you. Are you okay?"

Your brow furrowed. "I'm fine, Boo," you searched your pockets. "I think I left my phone back in my apartment. Sorry."

He eyed you up and down for a second, a worried look on his face. "You look like shit."

You scoffed. "Thanks, man."

"I mean it. Are you sure you're okay?"

You rubbed your face with two hands. "I'm just tired, that's all."

He pursed his lips for a second. But decided to continue his task for the moment. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Boo, I'm fine," you insisted.

"I'm worried!" he exclaimed, annoyed now.

"Don't be," you muttered, taking your position at the cash machine. "'m fine."

You heard him scoff, but didn't say anything else anymore.

The shift was difficult. You didn't think of Seokmin for hours, but you felt the echoes of your worries affect you in other ways. You'd forget simple things, mix orders and make minor mistakes that cost you time.

It was starting to annoy you. This failure in your mind due to your stress from the idea of losing your best friend. He told you he wouldn't go anywhere. But what if he did? What if he backs out seeing your apparent indecisiveness?

The shift ended after long hours of you fucking up. Luckily no one told you anything, in fact, you felt a bit annoyed that no one said anything. Instead, your co-workers seemed to be giving you the pity treatment again. But now for a new reason unbeknownst to them since you weren't saying anything.

You just looked like you're close to breaking. You looked like you were holding back tears and you might as well be.

Keeping secrets could be like that–weighing heavy on the heart. You realized that there was nothing wrong with opening up about what had been tormenting you for days.

And you just needed to let it all out.

"Seungkwan," you muttered as you were closing the shop.

"Yes?" he lifted his gaze from his phone almost instantly.

"Can we talk?" you asked and your voice sounded small.

He put his phone in the pocket of his jacket. "What's wrong?" the tone of his voice was soft. So soft that you felt like breaking into tears.

The pavement where you were standing was empty and the streets equally desolate, except for the occasional passing car that interrupted the silence with the sound of tyres on the wet pavement. The night was still, as if it had fallen silent to listen to the words you were about to say.

"I fucked up," you muttered in a shaky tone. "With Seokmin."

His gaze softened and he gently pulled you into a warm embrace, his hand resting on your shoulder. It was at that moment that you could no longer contain your emotions. You broke down in tears for the first time since Seokmin left, tears ran down your face in his comforting embrace. It was an abrupt release, and the intensity of your tears took you by surprise, as if it was proof of the depth of your emotions and the relief of finally sharing your burden with your best friend.

Broken sobs were muffled in Seungkwan's shoulder as his hands caressed your back, soothing you. "That's it, let it all out," he hushed.

"I– I'm sorry Boo," you sobbed.

"Why? What happened?" he asked, still in a soft tone.

"I lied to you. We never had a relationship. It was all fake," you mumbled, trying to get the words out as fast as you could, cringing with every single one of them.

"What?" his hands on your shoulders pulled you from the embrace. "Why?"

You wiped your face off your tears. "It was a stupid thing we came up with on the opening night. We pretended to be a thing, but we messed it up."

His eyes unfocused from yours, his mouth parting a bit. "Ah, I see. I knew there was something off," his brow furrowed, eyes locking on yours again. "But why lie? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was tired of people asking me about Youngho, I just wanted to make it stop," you sobbed.

"Why not just tell me to stop asking?" he shook his head and blinked rapidly. "Fuck, I know you did tell me, forget I asked that. But, why did you say you fucked it up?"

"We had sex," you mumbled shyly. "A lot."

He cringed visibly. "Right. That I did know," his brow furrowed. "But you made it seem like it was normal."

"We promised it would only be that, a no strings attached thing. No feelings, we would remain as friends only."

Seungkwan listened intently, but you saw something in his face that he could tell where the story was going.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm yourself down but the tears wouldn't stop coming. "Seokmin called it off last saturday," you mumbled.

"Let me guess, he's looking for something serious," he inferred, nodding at your reaction. "And you don't want that?"

"That's what I don't know," you sighed. "I can't deny my feelings for him, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for that step."

"Why's that?" he ask, a genuine curiosity in his voice. "Didn't you just said you had moved on from your ex?"

"I have moved on," you insisted. You paused, your thoughts gathering as you considered your response. "It's not about my ex. It's about me. I don't know if I'm truly ready for something more with Seokmin."

He nodded, seeming understanding. "I get it. It's important to be sure of what you want. But I thought you really liked him. You seemed really happy with Seokmin."

Your heart twinged with pain. "I do like him, Kwannie. I really do and it drives me crazy," you shuddered. "What if I fuck this up again? I don't want to lose him."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "You're annoying. You won't fuck this up, you know why?"

Your best friend wasn't really annoyed, but he looked like he wanted to whack you in the head.

"Why?" your voice still sounded small.

"Because you love him. You won't fuck it up. You're just scared and that's completely okay. It's human," he shrugged and patted you in the back.

You didn't stop at the word again, but it did had an effect on you. Love.

"God, I hate when you're right," you sniffed, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater.

"You're not off the hook yet. You did lie to me, for weeks," he pointed a finger to your face. "There will be repercussions."

You laughed at his fake-serious expression. "I wouldn't expect any less from you, Kwannie."

"Are we going home now?" he asked, motioning to walk toward the street.

"I'm taking a detour, is that okay?" you turned to the other direction from where Seungkwan was motioning.

To where Seokmin lives.

His shoulders slumped down a bit. "Right. Keep me updated!" he said, pulling you into a last hug. "For real this time."

"Yeah, for real this time," you hugged him tightly and pulled away.

You knew where Seokmin lived, since you all had a group chat where you shared your address, so you had learned your best friends' addresses and you all lived within a 6km radius.

Seokmin lived in a building that was the farthest, and the fanciest. He apparently had found a great deal with one of his closest friends. This 'deal' was that the building was directly across a large LED Samsung billboard that pointed directly to his and his roommate's bedroom windows.

You got in to his apartment door, a strange reassuring feeling filled you as you rang his doorbell.

For a moment you thought you might've rung the wrong door. You glanced at the number before the door and then the man that was opening the door.

"Oh, hi. You must be Seokmin's roommate?"

A tall man of deep black hair nodded, flashing a polite smile at you. "I'm Joshua. You're looking for him?"

You nodded once, then you started feeling really nervous.

"Sorry. He flew to visit his family a couple of days ago. Might come back on friday," his brow furrowed. "Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?"

Your heartbeat faltered for a second. "Uh, no, it's okay. I just wanted to tell him something."

Joshua grinned, one of his eyebrows–which was pierced, arched up. "You could've texted him. Save you the walk all the way here."

"Didn't bring a phone," you mumbled, feeling deeply embarrassed.

You felt like you could use a hug. You were feeling a bit like something's missing, like you're not entirely alone but you were. And a hug would help.

His big curious eyes studied you for a second, his grin vanished and his hand moved from the doorframe. "You okay there? D'you need to come inside? I can get him on the phone if you want."

"'m fine," you brushed off. "Thank you, though."

There followed a quiet moment between Seokmin's roommate and you. It was really brief, but it gave you time to eye behind him, toward the interior of the apartment where you caught a glimpse of Seokmin's denim jacket.

You might be going insane, because the first thought you had was to ask Joshua if he could give you Seokmin's jacket. Anything close to him would work.

Joshua gave you a knowing look. "You're her, right? The girl Dk's been seeing lately."

You shook your head. "Not anymore, at least."

He rolled his big eyes. "You theatre kids can be dramatic," he smiled. "If it's any comfort, Dk's been a soppy mess too."

"Oof, that is really comforting," you chuckled ironically. "I'll be going now. Thank you for the comforting words, though."

Joshua smirked playfully. "Anytime," he nodded with his head once. "Get home safe!"

"Thanks," you waved at him and walked towards the elevator.

The closing night of a show can stir up a lot of emotions. After performing for five weeks straight, you had grown fond of your newfound routine.

And you were excited for the next show, too. But right now you couldn't focus on anything else but this night. It marked something special in you.

You had started this season feeling lost. Wandering in the dark not knowing how to navigate in your own body after your life was changed upside down.

A lot of things happened during this season.

Even now, you still didn't know how to deal with the pre-show jitters, as you called them. You were bouncing on your feet, pacing back and forth in a hallway that led to the emergency exit. Your makeup and hair were already done, after weeks of doing it yourself, you had mastered doing them in under ten minutes now.

So you were just dealing with the emotions before the show, listening the chaos that happened every time before a show. Some dancers were late, and apparently there was something wrong with the sound system but those problems usually would be solved the moment the show started.

All you needed to do was relax. You knew your lines, you knew your queues. Why were you so nervous?

You knew it had something to do with your mood lately. You weren't as bad as when you started this season, you felt different. But still, you felt like you still needed a hug.

The side of hallway you were hiding at was deserted, you actually had to take a turn to the right to return to the dressing rooms so no one really knew you were here. You leaned back in the wall of the hallway and looked at the ceiling for a moment, you felt a bit dazed.

You sighed heavily.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your dress. Reluctant, you fished it out and at glancing at it, immediately your attention was caught.

It was Seokmin.

[7:41 PM] seokminnie: noodle where r u [7:41 PM] you: working. u? [7:41 PM] seokminnie: i know you're working [7:41 PM] seokminnie: i'm here [7:42 PM] seokminnie: you're not backstage?

He's here. Your heart stopped.

[7:42 PM] you: why r u here? [7:43 PM] you: ??

No reply. You stared at your phone screen for what felt like forever, but Seokmin went offline.

You thought of searching for him and just as you were raising your head from your phone, you saw Seokmin turning on the hallway, as if knowing already that he'd find you here.

Your heart raced so fast you lost the ability to speak for a second. You hated it. Hated that you felt so much that you couldn't even utter a single word.

The first thing you noticed about him was that he had dyed his hair again. His hair was now styled in a rich, deep shade of black that matched his sweet chocolate brown eyes.

He smiled softly, the dimples beneath his mouth showed and you knew you were done for.

"Hi, noodle," he mumbled.

A shudder went down your spine. "Hi, Seokmin," you swallowed hard, trying not to cry.

Then you practically leaped into his arms, and he welcomed you right in. His arms encircled your body as a sigh was muffled in the crook of your neck, your feet left the ground for a second before he put you back in the floor.

"You're okay?" he muttered, still hugging you tightly.

"'m better now," you sighed, your voice sounded shaky and that made him break away from your embrace.

"No you're not," he countered, his hands cupping your face, looking at you intently. "What's wrong?"

You sniffed and looked up to try and control your tears. "Nothing. I just missed you," you laughed sheepishly.

"I know, noodle," he replied in a soft tone, pulling you back to his warm arms. "I miss you too. Everyday."

Seokmin's scent triggered a flood of emotions, bringing back memories. The fear and pain you have felt these past few days were long gone.

Seokmin felt like home. Like coming home after a tiring day, you can finally relax and unwind. The comfort of his affectionate embrace is everything you've been longing for in the last few days.

"Why are you here?" you asked, and pulled away to see him.

He was all dressed in black, all except for his white t-shirt, which you had already ruined with your tears and make up.

"Sorry," you whispered, trying to clean off the pink make up from his shirt.

"Don't worry about it," he brushed it off. "I'm here to see you."

You blinked. "You are?"

He rolled his eyes, yet he flashed a smile that tugged at your heartstrings sharply. "It's your closing night, noodle. I wouldn't miss it."

You felt your body relax under the wave of warmth his words caused. "And how did you know I'd be here?"

He shrugged, putting his hands on the pockets of his jeans. "A hunch," he laughed with a resigned sigh. "Soonyoung told me."

He heard you chuckle and a glint of joy appeared in his eyes.

"I was dealing with some pre-show jitters," you explained, trying to get your undereye to dry without smudging your makeup further.

"I imagined. Do you still feel nervous?"

You inhaled deeply. "A bit," you said. "But for a different reason now."

He cocked his head, pursing his lips slightly, showing the dimple beneath the corner of his mouth. "What's that?"

Suddenly your mouth went dry. You were drawn to him so much you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. You pulled him into a hug again but this time you didn't hide your face on his shoulder, you faced him and he didn't pull away.

Seokmin swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours briefly before resting his forehead on yours, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he sighed weakly. His hands found your waist, pulling you even closer to his frame.

"We need to talk," you whispered, your hands found his face, fingers touching his jawline gingerly.

"Right now?" you felt his brow furrow.

"After the show?" you asked, your voice sounded shaky.

"Let's talk tomorrow. Would you like that?"

You shook your head slightly and you heard him smile.

"We'll talk tomorrow," he insisted. "Tonight is yours, baby."

You shuddered again, him calling you baby would never feel old.

"But–," you started.

"I told you I'd be patient," he mumbled softly as he moved his hands from your waist and cupped your face.

"But I can't be patient," you whined, seeing his face again after he pulled back.

"I know," he smiled, his thumbs caressed your cheeks softly, seeming to shudder when your hands fell from his face and found the sides of his neck. "Try to enjoy tonight. Do that for me, will you?"

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

He returned the smile. "That's my good girl," he sighed and angled your face so that he could press a loving kiss on your forehead.

The shiver running through your body made your eyelids flutter and sigh.

Then you heard commotion back in backstage that usually let you know that you needed to be stage ready soon. You looked up at Seokmin's sweet brown eyes, and he seemed to know too.

"Go. You got this, baby," he whispered with a nod of his head pointing toward the hallway.

You saw his eyes and his mouth for a brief minute, resisting the urge to kiss him. Seokmin saw you hesitate and sighed under a soft smile, using his hands on your face he kissed your forehead once and then your cheek sweetly.

"Go. I'll see you right after," he giggled.

You gently released yourself from his embrace and, just before you pulled away, you slyly kissed his cheek, eliciting another soft chuckle from him. With a quick step, you made your way back to the dressing room. Quickly, you touched up your makeup and prepared for your show.

You got this, you repeated to yourself.

As the stage lights come up, the murmur of the room died down. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for the start of the show, where the voices of your fellow cast members got ready for their cue too.

Everything in your head, every worry and anxiety quickly died down when you entered your scene on a dimly lit stage, your chest rose and fell with each controlled breath. As the orchestra's crescendo rose, your body became fluid and controlled at the same time, ready to reflect the passion of the character you have been portraying for weeks.

Your voice carries the weight of the character's struggles, resonating across the stage. The power and freedom you experience when projecting your voice makes you feel truly alive.

As your last scene came to its end, your voice rose, filling the space with a powerful resonance that reverberates throughout the room, the lights on you died out, the curtain fell.

And then a standing ovation erupted for you and your fellow cast members and the rest of the crew.

After regaining your composure, your chest heaving with pure adrenaline, the curtain rose again, showing you standing hand in hand with your cast and crew.

With a shared smile, you raise your clasped hands and take a deep bow, expressing your sincere thanks for the overwhelming support you received.

The staff crew swept in, you were clapping your hands together with the crowd at the same time that someone from the crew thrusted a bouquet of fresh flowers into your grasp.

You looked at the flowers. They were not roses. You didn't exactly like roses and someone was aware of that. Your fingers reached for the card tucked among the yellow and white daisies and you looked out into the crowd.

Seokmin was in the front rows, clapping proudly with a big smile. When you saw him, he waved at you with a sweet smile.

For my noodle. Let's cherish this beautiful night as you return fully on the stage again. From Seokmin.

Your eyes filled with tears and you felt yourself breaking down in a sob that was quickly muffled by the commotion in the theatre. You smiled and waved at Seokmin as a form of thanks.

But you wanted to do more. Your body urged to feel his embrace again.

What ensued next was a session for the press. It was something you have definitely done before, but it was your first as a lead. It felt long and arduous, as you were trying to get it done as quickly as possible without coming off as rude or indifferent.

You wanted to go back off stage, remove all your makeup and costume to find Seokmin again.

The flashes from the cameras blinded you briefly as you spoke, answering the questions from the press and other few people who had the opportunity for a quick commentary or feedback.

When you rushed off stage, everything was a blur. You just had finished your first season run in what felt like an eternity. It was your first season since you and your ex broke up. And it felt just so good to come back.

The jitters you had felt before were yesterday's worries. Now, you continue onwards.

There was no big after party on closing night. And you were okay with that. Some people from cast and crew were gathering at a bar afterwards but it wasn't something special or out of the ordinary, just like every friday night.

So the clothes you brought with you before the show were just comfy. Leggings, a tank top, sweater, hoodie and sneakers. Your outfit was just mean to keep you warm and comfy after the show. And you felt totally unprepared for a night out.

Seokmin was waiting for you outside the dressing rooms. Some guys from your cast were crowding around him, as it usually happened. Seokmin was a particularly shy guy, but had a lot of friends. A lot of people seemed to know him so, a small crowd followed him whenever he went.

He was chatting with a guy, looking interested but you knew it was a façade. He'd nod with his head and go 'yeah, yeah' and smile politely.

When you appeared in the hallway, flower bouquet in hand, his face lit up, apparently pulling him out from his trance. He seemed to excuse himself from the his friend group and strolled toward you, extending his arms in his way.

"You killed it, noodle," he muttered once he hugged you, his arms lifting you from the floor again, effortlessly.

"Thank you for the flowers," you mumbled in his shoulder.

"You liked them?" he asked, putting you back on the floor.

"They're beautiful," you nodded, smiling up to him. "How did you know I like yellow daisies?"

He blinked, looking back to the flowers and then your eyes. "I think you mentioned it. A while ago, I don't remember," he explained, scratching the back of his head shyly.

"I did?" you asked, feeling confused and then shrugged.

He nodded with his head, smiling softly at you. "D'you want to go where everyone's going after this?"

"Uh... no. Not really. I wanna go home," you muttered.

"Can I... walk you there?" he asked, and the look in his eye made you think that he was feeling shy.

You nodded eagerly and that made him smile broadly.

"Let's get you home then," he muttered, grabbed your duffel bag from your shoulder and threw it on his.

You kept your free hand in the pocket of your hoodie for two reasons. The first one being that it was starting to get really cold already, as the autumn died out day by day. The other reason was so that you kept your hands to yourself.

You wanted to touch Seokmin. To hold his hand as you walked on the side walk in direction to your apartment. But you knew that you had to wait until you two talked, you didn't want to cross a line again.

"I got the role," you told him after a minute of silence. You had started to feel tension in your walk, as if Seokmin were thinking what you were thinking too.

"You'll be Satine?" he looked at you with a proud smile on his face. "That's awesome, congrats."

Your fingers caressed a soft petal of one daisy. "Thanks. Soonyoung will play Christian, though. He's mortified."

Seokmin's brow furrowed. "Why? I thought he wanted this role. Something about proving himself that he can sing on a lower register."

"He's worried that we'll have to share some kissing scenes," you mumbled, and then you started to get why Soonyoung was worried, because an uneasy warmth crept up your cheeks.

"I see," he pressed his lips into a smile. "And how do you feel?"

"I'm annoyed," you replied. "I don't care that I'll have to kiss him. I'm annoyed that he's making such a fuss about it and we haven't even started script readings."

"Yeah, he can be a bit dramatic," he chuckled. "But I'm glad you got the role, though."

Seokmin stopped walking and you almost felt confused until it dawned on you that you were already outside your building. Your heart faltered a little, seeing that you'd probably had to return to your apartment alone after spending your closing night with him.

"You're sure you don't want to come in?" you asked sheepishly, pointing a thumb towards the building.

Seokmin glanced up at the building briefly, appearing to be reconsidering it. "I'm sure, noodle," he muttered with a low tone.

Your shoulders slumped down a little. "Okie dokie," you whispered, still grabbing your bouquet of flowers with one hand.

"But we'll talk tomorrow, remember?" he asked, seeing your reaction.

You made a small pout, aware of your own childishness, but going with it all the same. Seokmin responded with a soft laugh, wrapping you in a comforting embrace.

"Don't make it more difficult for me," he hummed, his head resting beside yours gently. "If I go to your apartment with you right now, I might not come out. We need to talk first. And you know it."

Your whole body burned with anticipation and your arms clung to him, pulling him close to your body. You couldn't think of what to say and it seemed words were inadequate. You simply longed for his presence beside you.

He pulled his head back, a hand cupping the side of your face. "Baby, you're killing me," he muttered, a tortuous smile creeping on his face. "Can't you wait until tomorrow?"

"Not when you call me that," you muttered, still pouting.

His gaze softened. "My bad," he sighed under a small smile that looked content on his face, even though you were pressuring him. "Let's talk tomorrow, alright? Get some rest. I'll text you."

"Fine," you mumbled, and the hand cupping your face pinched your pouting lip gently, making you smile in response.

"C'mere," he whispered, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead, his lips pressing kisses gingerly on your face.

His forehead rested on yours, the proximity of his face to yours made you close your eyes briefly and you heard him sigh deeply.

"Text me when you get home?" you asked, feeling that you just needed to get anything he'd give you.

He chuckled. "Sure thing," he muttered, not quite making a gesture to leave. "Anything else?"

"Mmm, dunno. Let me think about it," you pretended to ponder over it, only to cling to his body for a while longer.

After a brief moment, you pulled away from his embrace reluctantly. His arms relaxed around you and his sweet brown eyes found yours.

He was right. As much as you wanted to drag him into your apartment, you needed to talk first. It was necessary for you to have some order in your friendship before you could do something with him again.

It was the right thing to do. You hated it. But he was right.

"Alright," you muttered. "See you tomorrow, then."

He handed you your duffel bag back. It wasn't heavy, but being the gentleman that he was, Seokmin always offered to carry it himself.

"Thank you for the flowers," you repeated with a shy smile.

Seokmin shrugged, putting his hands on his jean pockets and eyed you up and down. He blinked slowly, his lips pursing a little.

"They look good on you," he said warmly, a predilect glint on his eyes.

A small sigh escaped you. He was just so fucking beautiful. You had to resist the urge of pulling him into a kiss right there and then. He was also making it difficult for you by just existing.

"Thanks," you whispered, feeling yourself blush a little.

"See you tomorrow, noodle," he pulled you into a last bear hug, patting your head playfully before walking away.

When you got home, the first thing you did was look for a flower vase, or something remotely useful to put the bouquet in. In view that you didn't have a flower vase, you found a jar and decided that it was good enough in the mean time until you bought an actual vase.

You found yourself smiling as you looked for a place to put your flower bouquet, deciding that the little coffee table in your living room was perfect for it.

Your phone buzzed a little while after.

[11:44 PM] seokminnie: i'm home [11:44 PM] seokminnie: gnight noodle

A smile crept on your face, feeling a tight warmth fill you in.

[11:44 PM] you: goodnight seokmin :)⁠♡

The day seemed pale and gloomy, as autumn slowly reached its peak with a frosty air. The pavements were covered with fallen leaves as you approached the park. Despite the chill, the atmosphere was pleasant.

You dug your hands deep in the pockets of your jacket. Having a but of fun with the puff that your breath created in the cold winds as you drew closer to where you and Seokmin had agreed to meet up.

It was the park you used to visit to wind down after exams when you were in university. The same park you had taken a long nap in Seokmin's lap years ago.

Did Seokmin remember that same event? You weren't entirely certain, but it seemed plausible that he chose this location because it was strategic, being a midpoint for both of you.

You were just arriving to the park when you realised that you had forgotten your phone yet again. But now it was something that made you panic a little. The park was so large that you didn't know where Seokmin might be arriving through and if he relied on his phone to find you, he could think that you had stood him up.

You looked around, thinking fast. Despite the cold weather, people were gathering at the park to walk, do exercise or just socialise. So it was a bit crowded, a bit difficult to stand out.

But then, you decided to trust, and walked toward that same tree you use to gather with your friends. The same tree Seokmin sat at when you fell asleep in his lap. You didn't think he remembered, but you had no other choice.

The walk over there gave you a chance to look around, to see if you spotted his familiar frame.

Until you saw that tree in the distance, it was located close to the lane you were walking, and it had a clearing of leaf covered grass surrounding it. It stood alone.

You caught sight of Seokmin, strolling with one hand in his pocket, the other clutching his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration as he seemed absorbed in whatever was on the screen, his steps aimless.

He had his dark hair tussled carelessly and wore a cosy looking oversized navy blue sweater, jeans and red converse. You took a second to breathe again, looked so cute, almost threw you back to your university days.

He was so absorbed in looking at his phone screen that he almost bumped into you. "Oh, I'm so sorry–," he said startled as he looked from his screen to you. "I was looking for you," he gasped. "I tried calling you and texting–"

"I forgot my phone," you mumbled shyly.

He sighed, and then smiled warmly. "Noodle, you scared me for a minute," he circled your body with his arms. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"I wouldn't do that," you said, catching a small whiff from the smell of his sweater.

He hugged you tightly for a second, rocking his body from side to side gently and taking you with him.

"Do you remember when we'd come here?" you heard him mumble and felt him rest his cheek on the crown of your head.

"Of course I do," you whispered. "I once slept on your lap for hours."

"You did?" he asked and you felt your heartbeat falter a little.

"And drooled on your leg," you giggled.

"Mmyeah I think I'm starting to remember. Disgusting," he chuckled, but he sounded fond of the memory.

He stopped rocking your bodies, pulling his head back to cup your face in his hands.

"Joshua told me that you were looking for me a few days ago," his brow furrowed a little.

You sighed. "I told him not to tell you," you whined a little.

"Why? What happened? Why didn't you call me?" his eyes searched yours.

You swallowed thickly and breathed in deeply as if gathering strength. "I needed to talk to you," your voice was shaky. "I needed to tell you how much I... missed you."

"But why didn't you tell me anything?" his hands dropped from your face, as if giving you space to talk freely.

"I... think I was scared," you mumbled feeling like you'd soon start to shake from the chill air. "I needed time to think and reflect about what I wanted but my own feelings scared me."

He listened attentively, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, a habit you had noticed he used whenever you spoke to him.

"I went to find you because I needed to tell you that I feel the same way about you," his eyes widened slightly as he took your words in, and you could almost sense the shift in his breathing. "I want to be with you too, but I've been scared to fuck this up because..."

You swallowed thickly again, the knot in your throat making it impossible to utter a word without your voice breaking.

"...because you mean a lot to me," you continued despite feeling vulnerable. "I don't want to fuck up what we have. You're my best friend, our friendship is too important to me."

His gaze softened and he tilted his head to one side, a gentle, affectionate gesture. "Why would you fuck this up? There's nothing you could ever do that would drive me away, you know that."

Your eyes filled with hot tears, and you felt your lower lip quiver under the wave of emotions commanding your body. "I know. I panicked. I–just, I want us to work."

His sweet brown eyes seemed to glint with emotion. "You do?" he mumbled.

You nodded, wiping your tears with your sleeves. "I looked for you because I couldn't stand keeping this to myself any longer," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I… I also want to see where this could go."

Seokmin looked at you with a mixture of surprise and relief, and his initial tension slowly faded into a warm smile. "I'm glad you found the strength to tell me," he said, his voice full of affection and warmth. "I also felt scared. I didn't want to rush it, I didn't want to rush you because I know you. I knew you'd need some time to think."

Your body shook with cold and nervousness. It took a lot from you to speak your feelings, let alone to confess something as important as this to Seokmin. But you felt alright, as it dawned on you that you had finally taken that step, and it felt so right.

"Can you..." you mumbled, choking with emotion, "can you forgive me for panicking?"

He blinked, perplexed. "What?" he smiled sweetly, his warm hands cupping your cold cheeks again. "Don't be silly. I have nothing to forgive."

Your hands grabbed his wrists, thumbs caressing his skin as Seokmin rested his forehead on yours. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never my intention to mess with you," you explained, pondering over what he said on that dark alley last saturday.

"I know, and I understand," he whispered. "You have nothing to apologise for, baby."

A shiver ran down your spine, and you closed your eyelids, savouring the moment and his comforting warmth.

You heard Seokmin sigh softly, his hands cupping your face and tilting your face slightly before his lips locked onto yours and you swore you might have melted into the kiss. You felt your whole body shudder under a wave of joy and affection as his lips pressed over yours sweetly, kissing your lower lip and cheek with such predilection that your eyes began to water a little.

As you stood there, hands intertwined, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving you and Seokmin alone, wrapped in this new reality.

"Are you cold, baby?" he asked, his tone wrapped in a gentle warmth.

"A bit, yeah," you replied.

"Mm, I can get you somewhere warm," he muttered, pulling away and you saw his face beaming with joy. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You smiled and felt his thumb brush the tears from your face. "I'd love that."

"Right now?"

The smile turned into a giggle. "Of course."

You started walking to the opposite direction of the park to which you got in. Seokmin grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours and with that brought you hand to kiss your knuckles with a smile that made his eyes beam.

The day was cloudy, with a gentle drizzle lightly sprinkling you with drops of water. The rain was gentle and intermittent, not enough to be bothersome, so you both paid little attention to it, immersed in the moment and in each other's company.

"Are you hungry? We could go to a restaurant that's not far from here," he said, as you walked hand in hand with him through the park where you used to walk as uni students.

"Sure," you said, feeling like it didn't really mattered where he took you, as long as you were together.

"Or we could go to watch a movie, if you're not hungry," he suggested, eyeing you with a smile still plastered on his face.

You laughed and that drew his attention back to your face. "You call the shots, mister."

"Would'you like to go to the aquarium sometime?" he asked, speaking so fast that you had to take a second to process what he said. "I've heard they have aquarium nights."

He spoke so fast that his thoughts seemed to be racing, a revealing sign of his excitement. This image made your heart flutter in your chest. Happiness sweeps over you, a joy so deep that you can't contain the broad smile that spreads across your face.

Droplets of water splashed in your forehead and shoulders, so icy cold that they made you flinch. Then the rain started to pour on you, washing over the park and river so sudden that took you by surprise. You had been ignoring the soft drizzling, not thinking that it was a warning of the upcoming downpour.

"Or we could run to cover," he suggested, chuckling a little. His nose wrinkled a little as the rain fell on his face.

Seokmin held your hand tight as you ran through the park and into the city streets, trying to find somewhere to cover as you quickly found a tall building that offered some roof for you to cover yourselves from the downpour.

"We could go to mine and wait," Seokmin said, his chest heaving from running, pointed a finger to the next corner of the street from where you stood. "It's the closest."

It was true. Since you both ran the other way to which you got here from yours. You nodded, your body starting to shiver from the cold water that already had your hair all wet.

"We have to run again," he said, surveying you.

"I'm okay with that," you nodded.

"Okay," he breathed and took your hand again, leading the way through the downpour toward his building.

Amidst the downpour drenching your entire body, a sudden thought struck you. "Wait!" you called out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

You tugged at his hand, making him stop, and turned to face you, concern shown on his burrowed brow.

He stared at you as you pulled him close, fingers cupping his face and a smile slowly crept across his lips. He took you by the waist, understanding your and your gazes met.

Your noses bumped lightly and you noticed Seokmin's soft chuckle, his warm brown eyes shifting from your gaze to your lips. Then he leaned towards you and his lips met yours in a gentle kiss, as your hands pulled him even closer.

The kiss was brief, but you tried to savour every second of it. You saw his eyes again when you pulled away, his hands on your waist not quite letting you go, his heavy lidded eyes looking at you with so much love that made you shudder.

"Let's go," he muttered softly, leaning to press a loving kiss on your forehead before walking to the lobby of his building.

It was really hard to keep your hands off him. When you were on the elevator, you had to settle for just kissing his face softly, eliciting some sweet chuckles from him.

His apartment was dark and empty when you got there. Seokmin turned the lights on, realising that his roommate wasn't in.

"You want to take a shower? I can lend you some clothes and dry yours on the dryer," he said as he removed his shoes.

You could only nod, feeling so cold that your whole body trembled. Seokmin saw you and gave you a soft smile, taking your hand to swiftly lead you to the bathroom, he got the shower ready as soon as he got you in.

"I'll bring a towel for you," he said, exiting from the bathroom and probably leaving you to have some privacy to remove your heavy soaking wet clothes.

You heard him return when you were already beneath the warm water from the shower.

"I left you dry clothes and a towel here, noodle," he announced quickly before going out again.

The clothes were his, a wide black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The sweatpants were too baggy for your frame, but you could adjust the waist to fit.

He laughed a little when he saw you coming out of the bathroom. "You look tiny," he chuckled. "Are you okay with those? I can lend you other things if you want."

"I'm okay with these," you assured him, looking at your body with his baggy clothes. Your legs did look shorter.

"Okay," he said and then he removed his sweater in a swift movement, revealing his lean torso. "You can wait in my bedroom if you like," he suggested.

"Okie dokie," you muttered, without taking your eyes off him.

He sighed under a cheeky smile, bending down to give you a chaste kiss on your mouth. "I'll be there shortly, baby."

You found his room intuitively, since the two doors down the hall from the bathroom were facing each other, one was closed and the one opened revealed Seokmin's things.

His curtains remained open, allowing the bright city lights to cast a range of colours on her bed and the nearby bedside table. The bedside table held a small, softly glowing lamp and a book, which made you think of his reading habit before sleeping.

The window offered a glimpse of the source of the light illuminating his room. The building opposite his window was of a shorter height, revealing the rooftop within view. Perched atop it was a broad LED billboard displaying various advertisements in vibrant hues.

There was a dresser that had a bunch of clutter on top of it, caps, hats, fun glasses, sunglasses, fake glasses, and a pile of screenplays from past roles he had.

But a certain object caught your eye, and your heart fluttered a little when you saw something that once belonged to you. It was a black and yellow bracelet, the yellow beads were painted with smiley faces by you.

You thought you had lost it a long time ago. It just turned out Seokmin had it all along.

After that, you took the liberty of lying on his bed. His creamy white duvet was soft and you could smell the detergent on the pillows. You closed your eyes, hearing the soft cacophony of the rain patter on the windows.

When Seokmin returned, he was draped in a navy blue bathrobe and was using another smaller towel to dry his dark hair. He saw you lying in his bed a soft smile tugged his lips.

"I forgot to tell you," you muttered, sitting up on the edge of his bed, "I like your new hair."

He hummed with a smirk. "You do?" he asked as he closed his bedroom door.

"Mmyeah, you look good," you smirked too.

His fingers tugged at the knot of his bathrobe but he stopped. "Close your eyes, noodle," he chuckled, making a gesture with his hand.

You rolled your eyes. "Nothing I haven't seen before," you muttered while smiling at him.

"But what if I'm shy?" he said while pouting cutely and you noticed that he was joking.

He tugged at the knot of the bathrobe, undoing it at the same time that Seokmin smiled at your eager eyes. The robe parted and a shudder shook you slightly when you saw his body completely naked as he removed the robe from his shoulders and hanged it on a hook on his door.

"You don't close your curtains?" you asked, seeing his body covered by the vibrant colours that the billboard projected.

"What for? No one else is watching," he smirked, turning to look for something on his drawers.

You bit your lip, still watching his body move, every muscle of his legs that tugged with his walk as he pretended to search his drawers. He looked at you through the corner of his eye, letting out a soft laugh.

"Baby, stop eye fucking me," he muttered shyly. "It's making me hard."

You bit your lip harder, trying to suppress a smile, but your core was already throbbing at the sight of him–his large cock was stirring up, stretching up slowly.

"Can I help you with that?" you asked eagerly, practically drooling at the sight of his cock getting harder by the second.

Seokmin turned to face you, still some steps far from where you were sitting on his bed. "Mm, I was thinking of waiting until we actually started having dates and stuff," he confessed, but the tip of his cock was already darkened in a reddish pink.

You smiled sweetly at him, looking riddled with the dilemma he came up with himself. "We can start dating tomorrow," you suggested innocently.

He chuckled softly, moving from his drawers to you. "That bad you want me, baby?" he asked, closing the distance until his knees where brushing with yours. His cock so fucking hard that was pointing upward and inclining to the side a little.

You couldn't resist any further. Your hand grabbed his cock, which was completely hard now and pumped it a few times, making him sigh shakily. You saw his face, as he tilted his head to one side when you used a hand to rub the tip of his cock that dripped in his precum, smearing it all over his soft and warm skin.

"Yeah, that bad," you replied before guiding his cock to your lips.

You slid your tongue around his cockhead, tasting his precum before you took him inside your mouth, your tongue gliding across his length as you tried to take him to the hilt. But you decided to take it slowly, your hand pumped at the length you couldn't reach with your mouth, starting to move your head back and forth slowly.

"Fuck," he whispered, grabbing your hair at your scalp his hands, tugging gently. "You take me so well. So fucking good."

The sound of his voice made your core pulsate a little, and you hummed on his cock as you pulled your head back, hollowing your cheeks before swirling your tongue on his tip and pushing your head as far as you could, until you felt the tip of your nose touch with his pubic hair.

Your darted a look at his face, he was looking at you, his throat bobbed and moaned softly when you pulled back again while hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his cockhead before pushing in again.

"Mmmfuck. Keep doing that, baby," he muttered, one of his hands moved from your hair to clean drool from the corner of your mouth, his other hand worked on grabbing your hair as efficiently as he could.

You complied, but you started doing the same movements faster. The sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked him off resounded on his bedroom, mixing with the soft sounds coming from Seokmin.

"That feels so good, baby," he hummed and you could sense that it was taking all his strength not to move and start thrusting his cock in your mouth himself.

You kind of wanted him to. To grab your head and start fucking your mouth hard and fast but you knew you weren't ready for that. Each time his cockhead reached your throat you had to breathe in through your nose, his cock so big that you could barely work your mouth on it without gagging.

He cleaned more drool from your chin, using that same hand to get some tears from your eyes. "Can you swallow, baby?" he asked in a strangled tone.

"Mmm-mmph," that was all you could make out in agreement while you still had his cock stuffed in your mouth.

His hand moved from your chin to join the other one grasping your hair and you knew he was about to cum from the taut look on his face. His breath hitched and his mouth parted a little, letting out a groan, blinking slowly as he dumped hot spurs of cum on your throat and you swallowed every single drop of it.

"Good girl," he whispered, gathering more tears from your cheeks with one hand. He let go of your hair gently to cup your face and slowly pull out from your mouth.

He bent down and sealed your lips with a kiss. You moaned in response, thinking that he would taste himself in your tongue as his slid in your mouth. But he didn't seem to care and moaned softly, pushing his body on top of yours, making you lay in his bed.

"Your turn, baby," he groaned, taking the shirt you were wearing on his hands and you arched your back for him.

He removed it and quickly went to get the sweatpants he lent you, which were already ruined in your own arousal. Seokmin saw the glistening streak smeared all over the crotch of the inside of his sweatpants and smiled before throwing them on the floor.

He got up from the bed and knelt before it, your body shuddered with a warm eagerness when you knew what that meant. He yanked you down on his bed, grabbing you by your thighs and you placed him on his shoulder, earning a proud look on his face when he saw you anticipate him.

His hands pressed gently on your lower belly before he dipped his head down between your thighs, licking a stripe on your wet pussy. You moaned loudly and took his head with your hands, your fingers tangling on his wet hair.

Seokmin immediately knew how to work his tongue on your cunt, so he wasted no time and started lapped his tongue in your folds, wet sounds coming from the interaction of his tongue on your core, licking your arousal as if it were his favourite meal.

You cried out, arching your back on his bed. Your legs were already shaking, your body building up towards your release. The tip of his tongue made its way to your clit, teasing it and nibbling at it with his lips until he got it to swell before he expertly started sucking at it, pressing his tongue on it and moving his head up and down lightly.

"Seokmin–," you called in a high keen whimper, "f-fuck, don't stop. Please, baby, don't stop."

He hummed gently, complying as if it were the only thing that mattered. Your body started trembling more as your orgasm shook you, washing over you in warm waves of pleasure that had you arching your back and calling his name loudly.

You breathed hard, body twitching on his bed uncontrollably as his mouth worked on you until he felt your limbs relax. He planted sweet kisses on your thighs and removed his hands from your lower belly.

Panting, you opened your eyes, feeling your lashes wet in tears and blinked until you saw Seokmin's body hovering on top of you.

"You're okay?" he asked and you nodded. He dipped his head again and kissed you softly. You hummed in his mouth, tasting your taste on his tongue as it lapped your lower lip and tongue, dominating the kiss.

"Seokmin," you mumbled in his lips.

He pulled away with a wet sound from breaking the kiss.

"I want you," you whispered, using a hand to push his wet bangs away from his forehead.

He smirked. "How do you want me, baby?"

You rolled your eyes, a smile spreading on your face. "Fuck me, Seokmin. Make love to me," you mumbled, searching his face.

"In that order?" he asked with a breathy laugh.

"In whatever order you want," you muttered as he bent to plant open mouthed kisses on your mouth, then down on your jaw. "I just need you inside me, please."

"Mmm," he hummed as his mouth reached your collarbones. "My pretty girl, so impatient as always," he muttered as he reached your tits.

His hand and mouth teased your nipples, kissing and tugging at them softly. You moaned, your hands finding his wet hair again.

"Please, baby," you whispered. "Jus'need you."

He chuckled, moving his mouth to the crook of your neck. "Keep calling me that and I might give you what you want."

You were still placed in one side of the bed, your ass almost hanging at the edge of the mattress, your legs wrapped around him. Seokmin had one of his knees placed on the bed and one foot down on the floor for support. It seemed an odd position but, you decided not to budge.

Then his lips pressed a wet kiss on your sensitive spot, gentle kisses trailed from the crook of your neck to your ear lobe. He heard you moan and sigh as his lips travelled back down to the crook of your neck, kissing your tender skin gently.

"I want you to mark me too, baby," you whimpered, grabbing the back of his neck as he licked your neck swiftly.

He hummed and complied almost instantly, his lips starting to suck at your soft skin, making you moan in pleasure and approval that you'd have his mark on you.

Seokmin marked you on both sides of your neck, just in the points he knew you liked the most and then you felt his hips come down and rest the lower half of your body on top of yours and between your thighs. Then he pushed his hips on yours, his cock sliding between your pussy lips, practically gliding in your arousal.

You bit back a moan at the feeling of his hard cock smearing your pussy in your own slick as his lips marked your neck.

"Seokmin, please," you whimpered when his cockhead pushed at your entrance briefly, sloppily before resuming to slide between your pussy lips, teasing your clit too.

He smirked, you could feel his lips on your neck as he hummed, again, as if he were actually considering your pleas. He pulled his head back, placing an open mouthed kiss on your chin.

"Please, baby. Fuck–fuck me. Make love to me. I need you so fucking much," you pleaded, thinking that you might sound dumb in your high keen whimpers and sobs.

But his cockhead stopped at your entrance again and pushed in slowly. You were so wet that he practically eased himself in, stretching your gummy walls and making you moan in the process of sheathing his cock inside you to the hilt.

His mouth parted a bit, looking at your face attentively as you cried out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside you was so good that it made your eyes water. Then he took both of your legs, and you knowingly helped him place them on each of his shoulders.

Seokmin stroked one of your legs as he eased himself in again shallow thrusts. "You take me so well, baby," he said, pulling his hips back and thrusting in with more depth.

You could only utter a half moan in agreement as his hips rutted against yours, then he pushed his body forward, pressing your legs against your chest as he thrusted his cock inside you, filling you up so deliciously that you couldn't help but cry out in pleasure.

"You feel so good," Seokmin whispered through gritted teeth.

He took one of your legs and rested it on his shoulder, pushing inside you again so deeply that you felt your body melt in a wave of pleasure. "Mmm, you too, baby," you whimpered. "So fucking good."

Then he started to pick up his pace, plunging his cock in so hard and fast that you felt your breath escape from your lungs. You cried out, your hands holding on his duvet in fists, feeling his cockhead hit a spot within you so deep, so deliciously that your eyes welled up in tears.

"F-fuck. Seokmin–," your voice came out in a broken moan. "Right there, baby! Don't stop, please."

You heard him groan and your eyes found his sweet ones. The plunging of him inside you felt so good and so controlling that your sanity started to slip from your mind. The pressure from your orgasm taking over you so hard and so unannounced that you didn't have a chance to warn him.

But he could tell from the loud cries that left your mouth, and the clasping of your walls around his cock, so erratic and tight around his girth that had him groaning your name with a raspy voice.

Through teary eyes, you watched him blink slowly, the tip of his tongue hung slightly on the corner of his mouth as he cursed and moaned softly before cumming inside you. His cockhead buried in the glorious spot inside you as his hot spurs of cum coated your gummy walls.

But he was still on a mission.

He eased your legs back down. "Scoot back, baby," he commanded and you obliged, moving your body to the centre of the bed for him.

You used the movement of your bodies to look at his body. Painted under the lights of the billboard in front of the building, you could see that his cock was still hard, glistening wet in both your cream and his cum.

You swallowed hard at the sight of him as he placed his knees on the bed, his tall body standing in front of you.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you muttered, still feeling like you were coming down from your high.

Seokmin chuckled breathily. "You too, baby. So fucking beautiful," he muttered as he slot himself between your thighs, pressing loving kisses on your face.

He slid himself back inside you, eliciting a moan from you that was muffled by his mouth on yours. Your hands were down on his lower back, feeling his hips rutting on yours slowly, almost lazily but it still felt so good, so perfect.

"You're okay there?" he asked softly when he pulled back from your lips.

"Mmmyeah, 'm okay baby," you muttered, moving one hand to cup the side of his face as your eyes absorbed his soft features under the pretty lights from outside.

You bit back a moan, hearing the squelching noises created by his cock pushing deep inside your cunt, the wet noises of your juices and his cum inside you sounded so good that you felt the need to see it too. Seokmin heard your low whimpers and the movement of his hips stuttered a bit.

Seokmin took your hand from his cheek, intertwining your fingers in his and placing it beside your head. The thrusts of his hips against yours were methodical, and almost like clockwork he started to rut on you faster.

You wrapped your legs around him, your other hand found the back of his head, caressing his soft dark hair before pulling his face to yours.

Seokmin rested his forehead on yours gently, his breath brushing on your lips. "I can't get enough of you," he muttered in between hot kisses he planted on your face. "M-might never do."

A moan escaped you, feeling a wave of both pleasure and warmth flood inside you. Your lips crashed with his, kissing him fervently as he made love to you. Passionately, hard and fast.

"I feel the same way," you sobbed. "I need you so much. It drives me crazy."

He moaned in a mixture of pleasure and agreement, a soft smile spread on your lips, feeling your breath hitch before Seokmin pulled his chest from yours, letting go of your hand to grab your hips without stopping his ministrations on you. "Cum with me, baby," he muttered, moving his hips against yours lazily.

Your hand slid where your bodies were still connected, your two middle fingers found your clit that was so covered in your slick that it was almost hard to rub it without your fingers slipping. But you pressed hard on it, your walls clenching hard on his cock as you let out a long moan.

You succumbed to a sweet, long orgasm, crying out loudly as his cock kept pushing in, riding your high and causing his. Seokmin also groaned loudly, thrusting hard and deep as he dumped his load inside your walls for a second time, his face and collarbones covered in a faint layer of sweat, chest heaving heavily.

You felt your body pulsate with his as you came down of your high. You too were breathing hard, your body slumped on his soft duvet, feeling also covered in both your and his sweat. You watched Seokmin still on his knees before you, slotted between your thighs.

It was so fucking hard to tear your eyes from him. Hell, the mere experience of being apart from him for even a few days was unbearable. Also, the care and consideration he demonstrated showed the depth of his feelings for you, too. So, maybe he was just as crazy about you too.

The lights of the billboard outside painted Seokmin's face in shifting shades of blue and pink. As you watched him, his lazy eyes, his sweet smile spread and the dimples under his mouth became more pronounced.

He was so fucking beautiful that it made your chest ache.

"God," you uttered in a broken sob. "I love you so much."

♡︎ a/n: waaaa i love seokmin sm i wanna hug him heheh. hi everyone! this one took me a couple of days to write cause i had to move but i hope you guys like it. i'm sorry if there's any mistakes, i posted this as soon as i finished it u-u

if u like this, show it sum love? pls pls i'd appreciate it ♡ and stay tuned for next part!!

btw thanks to all that have sent messages and comments, i love u all. ty ty ty

also, this fic belongs to a shared au so i'll be posting more fics with the rest of the boys soon stay tuned!

my taglist is open! just send me an ask and tell me if u want to be tagged in the other fics too and i'll add u :) toodles

[eros-vigilante]

The Many References in Teniwoha's Samsa

If you haven't read "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka, the one thing you likely know about the short story is that in it a man turns into a bug. And this is enough to recognize the allusion of Samsa being named after the protagonist, Gregor Samsa, as well as the imagery of a dragging tail and onomatopoeia of "zuki". However, there are several deeper layers to Teniwoha's symbolism of themes and references to "The Metamorphosis" that add a great level of cohesion with Immiscible Discord's story. First, I would like to say that "The Metamorphosis" can be found as a free pdf online, and is a very good short story, so if you have the time and energy you should read it. This post will only be summarizing the themes that are referenced in Samsa and Immiscible Discord and will not include some of the other great commentaries Franz Kafka has. And of course, it will spoil the progression of the plot. Also, all quoted lyrics are from Amiaryllis' english cover, which is also very good and worth listening to. The lyrics will not be quoted in order.

The biggest and first theme the surrealist nature of the story expresses is that Gregor Samsa has been led to - and does - believe that his worth is tied to his ability to work. When he discovers he is a bug, he is only concerned because he is going to be late for his job if he cannot figure out how to get out of bed in his new body. He is determined to go to work because his entire family relies on his job to pay for their lives. ("i've grown monstrous down to the very core of my soul") This is comparable to Mafuyu's relationship to academics. Their mother relies on them to fulfill her dream of Mafuyu becoming a doctor, and so teaches them that nothing matters as much as this goal. Even when Mafuyu is stressed or physically ill, they push themselves to attend school, club activities, cram school, and study. Mafuyu's academic performance is their worth to their mother, as Samsa's income is his worth to his family. ("so could the bravest of souls face me and bear the toll?") When Samsa's family discovers he is an insect, they are horrified. Samsa finds this reasonable as he also considers his form monstrous. It is another theme of the story being from his perspective that he has good faith in his family to the point of seeming either naive or to have a low self-esteem. Actions that are most easily justified as disgust and hatred are rationalized by him, despite acknowledging at points that his family was not as affectionate to him after they began relying on him for money, as well as acts of physical violence such as his father shoving him back into his room.

("those painful fights, fearful nights") This is an interesting thing to compare to Mafuyu's experience of being gaslit by their mother. They believe very strongly- because they were told- that everything their mother is doing is for them, their future, and is in their best interests. This prevents them from questioning her actions and sacrificing their own desires in a self-destructive manner, which is also something Samsa does. For instance, he hides himself with a bedsheet so his sister does not have to see him when she brings him food, despite him finding this uncomfortable. ("craving any smile or attention just from you") Samsa's sister is the only one who still shows affection towards him, as she is the one who brings him food, but eventually she too festers fear towards and dehumanizes him. By the end of the story, the entire family blames their despair on him becoming an insect and no longer believe he is Gregor Samsa. The most direct reference to the story in the lyrics is when his father throws apples at him and has to be stopped from killing him by his wife, Gregor's mother. He crawls back into his room and he is locked inside. ("i beg, don’t throw those rotten apples at my chest before they lock up, lock up samsa") This could best reference when Kaito says that Mafuyu's mother is killing their feelings or true identity. Additionally, Mafuyu's mother places all blame for Mafuyu's recent behavior on Kanade's influence. And as the family plans for their life after his death, Mafuyu's mother tells Kanade that she plans to convince Mafuyu to go back to doing what she wants, no matter how extreme she must be about it. ("if it all goes to plan, then, we’ll soon rejoice") In the end, Gregor Samsa stops eating, and dies of starvation. All the while, he still thinks fondly of his family and believes they are in the right for their treatment of him. Gregor Samsa is used to form a strong representation of the extent to which Mafuyu has been gaslit. ("so please don't tell me that you'll be giving up on reality, samsa") The biggest difference (other than the bug transformation) is that Mafuyu has people who still dearly care about them, and not just for what they can provide. While all of Gregor Samsa's family abandons him, the other members of Nightcord do not abandon Mafuyu. Mafuyu has a reason to live, and people to tell them that they do not deserve to be locked away. ("i know that brilliant light will shine as the clock strikes 25")

He could already hardly feel the decayed apple in his back or the inflamed area around it, which was entirely covered in white dust. He thought back of his family with emotion and love. If it was possible, he felt that he must go away even more strongly than his sister. He remained in this state of empty and peaceful rumination until he heard the clock tower strike three in the morning. He watched as it slowly began to get light everywhere outside the window too. Then, without his willing it, his head sank down completely, and his last breath flowed weakly from his nostrils (Franz Kafka).

[ticklishraspberries]

Ren Faire (Eddie/Steve)

Summary: Steve, Eddie, and Robin go to a Renaissance Fair and see some interesting demonstrations. (This fic is for my lovely friend @gigglyrambles!! I literally just pulled this whole plot out of my ass and wrote it in one sitting, so I really hope you like it, LOL. Also, shoutout to @wordstrings because I know she has written something similar for Our Flag Means Death, I hope you don't mind me taking inspiration!!)

Steve isn’t sure how he ended up being dragged along to a Renaissance Fair with none other than Robin and Eddie, but he found it hard to say no to either of their puppy dog eyes and incessant begging.

His outfit is simple, consisting of a white, long-sleeved shirt with laces at the neckline, tight brown pants, and brown boots. He feels only a little bit ridiculous, but after seeing what his friends are wearing, he supposes he isn’t the weirdest looking one.

Eddie is decked out in black, an intricately detailed top with ruffles and buttons. A fake sword sits in a holder on his waist. Robin has gone for a more masculine look, a cloak over her shoulders and a bow and arrow in her hand.

“Screw historical accuracy,” she’d said.

“The fact that you’re a girl isn’t the problem, it’s that you couldn’t hit a moving target with an arrow to save your life,” Eddie had teased, and Robin had elbowed him in the ribs, making Steve laugh.

Now that they’ve arrived, Steve has relaxed a bit. He used to feel out of place whenever he attended events that he wouldn’t have been caught dead at in high school. Corroded Coffin concerts, DnD campaigns, and that one time he drove Eddie and Robin to the nearest gay bar in Indiana. It had definitely been more awkward sober, and before he realized that he’s bisexual, and could have totally had more fun if he’d been aware of and okay with that information at the time.

He’s sort of glad he wasn’t, though, because kissing Eddie Munson during a childish game of truth or dare was a much funnier way to have your queer awakening, and dating Eddie Munson is way more fun than hooking up with random guys in a bar.

“They have really good beer here,” Eddie comments, to which Steve holds up his car keys and jingles them. No medieval mead is going to keep him from being the designated driver.

“I can drive us home,” Robin says, absolutely joking, but Steve still gives her a horrified look and makes a show of sliding his keys back into his pocket, patting the denim for safe keeping. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he flicks her cheek.

Eddie does end up getting some beer, and Steve allows himself a few sips. They’ll be here for at least a few hours, he’ll surely sober up by then. He also samples the gigantic turkey leg that Eddie gets, and Robin wrinkles her nose in disgust at the messy nature of the food.

As they walk around, Steve finds himself getting into the spirit more than he had expected. They eat, watch musical performances, and shop at the little stalls set up by various vendors. Eddie buys a few rings for himself, and buys a handmade mug for Uncle Wayne. Robin indulges in candles and soaps, and even dares to see a fortune teller.

“She said that I’ll meet my future husband soon,” she says, giggling. “Clearly she’s a fraud, or she’d know I’m not interested.”

When Robin runs off to find a bathroom, somehow, Eddie and Steve end up standing around a demonstration about medieval punishments and torture, which Steve expects to be gruesome, and quickly finds he would rather hear gritty, gorey details than stand her and watch this happen.

A pretty girl, probably around their age, is locked into a pair of wooden stocks, and—

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Eddie looks absolutely delighted as he leans in close. “What’s wrong, Stevie? The demonstration isn’t bothering you, is it?” he asks. His cheeks are flushed, too. A few months ago, Eddie would probably be the one stuttering and staring at the ground right now, but ever since he introduced this little world to Steve, he’s gained a confidence about it that only comes out when he gets to tease Steve into oblivion.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up, I’m trying to watch. Maybe I can get some pointers from these guys.”

‘These guys’ refers to the two men who have started tickling the girl’s trapped feet, and frantic giggles fill the air and make Steve’s stomach flip.

“Oh, she’s handling this better than you would,” Eddie continues to tease. “I’d already be called every insult under the sun if you couldn’t kick me instead.”

“I will kick you right now,” Steve threatens. It’s a complete lie. He’s frozen to the spot on the grass, torn between watching and focusing on the grass. Everyone else in the crowd is behaving like this is so normal, no big deal, just a silly show.

One of the men has moved behind the girl to tickle her ribs, her arms secured above her head. Steve crosses his arms over his chest, subconsciously protecting his own sensitive spots, like just watching her could tickle him, too.

“You love that spot,” Eddie coos. “You make the cutest sounds when I tickle you there.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Steve grits out.

“Sure you will, sweetheart. Can it wait ‘til after I’ve made you cry real pretty for me?”

Just then, Robin appears at his side. “This looks like my worst nightmare,” she says. “I hope this girl is getting paid well.”

Steve makes a noise of agreement, but can’t bring himself to look over. Eddie Munson is going to be the fucking death of him. Thankfully, Robin is immediately bored of the display and drags them off to explore. Eddie subtly gives Steve’s side a quick pinch as he walks past him, and Steve suddenly can’t wait to go home.

***

“You are a fucking menace,” Steve accuses the moment they’ve made it through the door.

His parents aren’t home, Robin was dropped off back at her house, and now, Steve is alone with Eddie for the first time all day, and he refuses to voice how excited he is for whatever Eddie’s got planned.

But Eddie just grins, tugging off the more elaborate pieces of his costume, leaving himself in socks, boxers, and a white t-shirt. He makes his way to the kitchen, comes back with two cans of beer, sits on the couch like he isn’t ignoring the clear tension in the room.

Steve gapes at him for a minute before joining him on the couch, kicking off his boots and taking a beer as well. Maybe Eddie’s changed his mind…Maybe he just isn’t the mood, and Steve isn’t going to pressure him into anything.

But…Well, he has a sneaking suspicion that isn’t the case at all.

“If you’re waiting for me to ask, it’s not gonna happen,” he says.

“Ask for what?” Eddie tilts his head curiously, but there’s a glint in his eye that proves Steve’s theory.

“Nothing,” Steve replies, playing along. “All that talk back there just made me think you had a plan for when we got home. But if you’re not interested, that’s fine too.”

“Did you want me to have a plan?”

Steve huffs. “Maybe. But if you don’t, then let’s forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon baby,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close. “All you’ve gotta do is ask if you want it so bad.”

His cheeks burn. Stubborn as ever, he shakes his head.

Eddie sighs with exaggerated disappointment. “If you insist. I guess I’ll just keep my hands to myself tonight…”

“Good,” Steve says, and turns the television on.

It takes two beers and a stupid scene in a film to break him. It’s a quick, barely there tickle, but the character’s laugh makes Steve perk up like a dog hearing a doorbell ring.

“Fine,” he says.

“What’s fine?” Eddie asks.

“Just fucking tickle me, you dick.”

Eddie grins and wastes no time, lunging across the couch and pinning Steve to the cushions.

“I knew you’d crack eventually, sweetheart,” he teases. “Sorry we don’t have quite the same set up, but I’ll hold you down real nice, okay?”

Steve is already grinning. He can’t help it, he’s so lovestruck by his boyfriend and desperate to laugh his head off. And laugh he does when Eddie goes straight for his ribs, scratching at the dips between each little bone.

“There’s that pretty sound,” he says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw that is both sweet and ticklish under the current circumstance.

The stupid shirt with the laces is pulled over his head and discarded on the floor, and Eddie pins Steve’s wrists and tells him to stay still before exploring each ticklish spot on his torso, making him shriek and cackle and snort like a fool.

He doesn’t stay still for very long, arms shooting down to his sides when Eddie attacks his belly with blunt fingernails, and Eddie scolds him but doesn’t stop.

As he squirms on the couch, giggling like mad, he wonders if they sell some of those bondage contraptions there. He thinks that they should go back to the Ren Faire sometime. 

[dearwriters]

Okay, So, I have this character, his name is Ciel. Ciel is a nervous 14 y/o trans boy who was conditioned to always act cheerful and full of energy, to act with the eccentrics of a circus performer(which he was)

Now here's the thing, he's my main character's best friend, but also has a plotline of his own. The main character is a toxic person w/ a hero complex and narrates the story(they are very unreliable and try and make Ciel seem like the toxic one)

The main character(13y/o girl) twists things to make themself seem better, how can I show that Ciel is morally grey while still having the unreliable MC villianize him?

How to write an Unreliable Narrator

Hi! Thank you for your question. What you describe is a great example for an unreliable narrator. Here are a few thought on how to create such a narrative voice:

It's all about the twist

The big thing for most stories told by an unreliable narrator is having the reader at first side with them before the relevation of their true nature. This creates the big conflict the reader is confronted by. It's not about straight up lying to the reader, it's about exploiting their natural willingness to side with the main character, since they are closest to their thoughts, reasonings and emotions. While the voice of the narrator leads them down the wrong path, foreshadowing the truth behind their narrative is essential. It's like placing clues for a mystery, so the reader can look back on the text and realize all the ways they have been led astray, while the truth was there the whole time. So think about this story as a mystery story with the crime to uncover being the obscuring of truth.

Give them a motive

Like in any crime story, the criminal needs a motive. "Being toxic" can be a character trait but in itself it doesn't add up to a motivation. If their motivation is to paint themselves as a hero, it might be crucial to explore their personality and their backstory for how this desire was produced and what their ultimate goal is.

One great example is the novel Gone Girl (spoilers, obviously): We learn about Amys story through her diary entries that paint her husband as violent, before the twist of the story reveals that she manufactured the diary to frame her husband for murder.

Another famous example is the novel Lolita, in which the narrator Humbert Humbert obviously twists the events of the novel in a way that paints him as the "victim" of the "seduction" of the 12 year old Dolores, to justify the sexual abuse he imparted upon her. The point of the novel is for the reader to be horrified and disgusted by his thoughts and reasonings, while being captivated by the hauntingly beautiful prose.

The next famous example would be The Tell-Tale heart. The fragmented prose of the text illustrates the narrators madness to the reader, thus marking him as unreliable.

Some ways to foreshadow the unreliable narrator

It can be quite tricky to place to clues that point to the narrator being unreliable. Here are some ways that can help with that:

a) Using other characters/POVs as a sounding board: A story using multiple POVs might be the easiest way to show the different narrators various reliability. The characters filter the events through their specific lenses and thus give the reader a way to piece together the truth.

b) Using the narration itself to instill doubt: this can be used by planting contradictions, by showing in real time the thought-process of the character twisting the truth, by establishing intentional "plot holes" that are later revealed to be part of the twist, by framgenting the narration in a way that indicated the narrators instability or by having the narrator justify events/acts/thoughts that are obviously twisted. Things can start out seeming very truthfull and reliable and then proceed to unravel as the narrator struggles to keep up appearances.

I hope this helped a bit.

Have fun writing!

[boobi-boy]

I think when people talk about the Coffin of Andy and Leyley they completely miss the point. So I'm going to address some things I've seen people say that I believe to be simply untrue.

'The creator has an incest fetish/the incest is irrelevant to the plot and is just there as a kink'

I disagree with this for so many reasons and I think the point of the game has been completely ignored here.

For one, after the vision, Andrew is completely horrified and attempts to get Ashley to promise that they'll never let it happen in real life. I think his theory that the demon was just trying to fuck with them because they both tried to use the talisman at once is probably supposed to be at least close to the truth because, if you don't go down that route, Andrew doesn't see the other vision at all. I think that at least disproves the argument that it's only there as a kink.

Additionally, the game is a psychological horror. It uses things (such as cannibalism and murder) that most people find deplorable to make players uncomfortable and push people to their psychological limits. Incest is also something most people find disgusting and uncomfortable, so they included that to add to the psychological element of the horror.

Also, the running theme that Ashley has a 'tar soul' and is inherently evil is important here, as it's her vision. Although it's obviously sent by the demon, the previous vision was clearly something she desired to foresee, as it helped her evade assassination. So the talisman clearly shows her futures that, for whatever reason, she wants to see. The inherent evilness of her character shines through here, as the game is showcasing just how disgusting she is as a person, the lengths she's willing to go to in order to exert control and gain blackmail material on Andrew. Which is crucial to the plot. By the end of chapter two, the information she has on him backs him into a corner, and if this vision were to play out, it would just be added onto the list of dirt she has on him (that being, killing Nina, eating the cultist, killing the warden, robbing and killing their parents). Ashley consistently displays blackmail as her primary tool for controlling Andrew. She has Andrew promise to always be by her side, or else she'd expose what happened to Nina. With - as she sees it - nothing to lose since 'no one likes her anyway'. She's always manipulating him so that he'll never leave her, Not because she's in love with him or wants to fuck him, but because she has low self esteem and needs to feel in control and not lonely, seeing Andrew as her best bet.

2. 'Andrew is just as bad as Ashley'

As a response to discovering her 'tar soul', the game addresses Ashley, saying 'you already knew that anyway'.

Ashley is an evil person.

The game shows the player Andrew's descent into madness.

If he were also evil, wouldn't he have the same access to the demon realm as Ashley? He doesn't. Andrew has a mental breakdown after they eat the cultist. He tells Ashley he's close to another after killing the warden. He does these things because he deems them necessary, but feels great remorse, a trait that Ashley lacks.

He genuinely considers the olive branch, but has a deep trauma bond with Ashley after only having her when being neglected by their parents for years.

They are both victims of their situation, but Ashley uses Andrew's steadily declining mental state to her own advantage, bending him to her every whim while letting him think he's calling the shots, other times just openly demanding things of him and he just rolls over and does it because he's afraid of what Ashley will do if he doesn't. He fears her, and he loves her and is dependent on her as the only reliable presence in his life. Ashley was already mad upon the game's beginning. Andrew goes mad as the events of the story unfold.

This is why Andrew is not as bad as Ashley.

I had more things to say but I forgot so I'll post more when I remember :D.

[alastorgould]

Rocket's Backstory

*deep breath* God help me

This is the most inconsistent Marvel backstory and I, the top expert on Halfworld, am here to clear it up.

I'm going to split the variants into the following catagories: 1985, 2014, modern comics, show, and mcu. (the show is simply called Guardians of the Galaxy and is on disney+ and i highly recommend).

I have compiled a spreadsheet to go over the main points

As you can see, it's a shit show.

(As i go over the stories as best I can, please note that i am not a comic buff i am a 15 yo with Asperger's and an obsession with Halfworld and if i get something wrong plz don't be mad at me just tell me and I'll fix it :3)

1985 Rocket Raccoon- Rocket is a genetically modified caretaker on Halfworld, a mental asylum used to hold the insane of the galaxy, known as loonies/shrinks (extremely offence things to call mentally ill ppl but it was the 80'ssss). They have a book called the Halfworld Bible, which holds the secrets of the planets and it's people. The planet is ruled by Mayhem Mechaniks and Dyvynicies Inc; rival toy companies owened by Judson Jakes and Lord Dyvyne respectively. Jakes killed Lylla's parents to steal the company and it's... horrifying robot clowns. Pyko steals the Halfworld Bible for it's instructions on how to escape the planet in a giant human-shaped ship. Jakes and Dyvyne find out about this plot and team up to crash a party and there's a big battle and Rocket, Lylla, Pyko, Wal, Blackjack, and possibly Pyko escape Halfworld on the ship, leaving it in shambles as the loonies are left to the own devices to rebuilt the planet with their newfound wisdom (Pyko manages to 'cure' them)

2014 Rocket Raccoon (my fav series :3)- This one doesn't have much in the way of backstory, all we know is what Captain Sale gives us in the last book. Throughout the series it is shown that Rocket has no memory of his creation and believes he is the last of his kind. Until he ends up on Captain Sale's ship. She gives he the key to the Book of Halfworld and he takes 4 hours to read it. He is shown to be disgusted and horrified at the contents, leaving it with Sale and going home. (Clowns and the toy factory etc are mentioned, implying it is a sequel to the 1985 version.

Modern Comics- This section is specifically about v5 GotG #8 as I don't recall any other comics going into much detail. Here, there are loonies and robots, but no clowns. They must have thought it was too silly. Rocket is a therapy animal turned sentient with cruel experimentation. This is the first version of Rocket's backstory to show him sustaining significant and lasting trauma from his past. Not to mention the debilitating physical effects of having a metal skeleton and countless other weird things he doesn't understand. After his transformation, he is shown with the 1985 gang and other past team ups in a montage. It seems there is also an attempt at continuity here but it misses the mark a bit.

GotG Show 2015- This is by far the worst adaptation in my opinion, as it completely overhauls the story. So note that I have bias here. Here, Rocket is a simple Earth raccoon that has been transformed with the purpose of being a living weapon. His purpose was more 'artificial genius' than 'genetic marvel'. Immediately after being let into a more open enclosure, he meets Groot and effortlessly destroys the robots and steals a ravanger ship. After freeing all the creatures, of course.

(i am unable to provide images for this section as disney is a pussy ass company and won't let me screenshot but just imagine it sucking)

MCU- Anyone reading this has already seen the movies but I'll go over it anyway. The High Evolutionary is a man trying to recreate a sentient Earth-like planet by modifying creatures. Rocket is one of these poor souls. He lives his early years in a cage with Floor, Lylla, and Teefs. Rocket manages to open the cage one day, only to have his friends shot in front of him by the High Evolutionary. He then escapes. He meets Groot later in a well, not shown but confirmed by James Gunn.

Wow this took long to write. Time for the conclusion. Here i will 'average out' all the stories and throw in my personal theories.

My version- Halfworld is an insane asylum built by the Kree where they experiment on mentally ill people to try to cure them(we used to do this here on earth until the 60's). The 'toy factory' is a cover-up for this operation. The robot 'doctors' use clown faces to put the patients at ease. But what do psycho robot doctors do when the asylum is abandoned and not longer supplied with patients? They turn to the animal inhabitants on the planet. The Halfworld Bible/ Book of Halfworld is an engineering manual documenting the disgusting progress of making an innocent creature sentient. Pyko frees his people after decades of slavery in a grand rebellion and Lylla becomes the Priestess and guardian of the book like in 1985. Unfortunately, during the rebellion, 89P13 and Groot get stuck in an escape pod and sent away from the Keystone Quadrent, leading him to believe all of his people are dead or re-enslaved.

I think this version harnesses the soul and vibe of all the backstories while making it make more sense in the long run.

I had a lot of fun putting this together and I hope y'all appreciate it :D (Follow for more Halfworld content <3)

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (5)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, beheading, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He wasn't sure how many years it had been since he had really cried. When he tried to remember it seemed to him that the last time it had happened was when he had lost an eye, when he had lost her, as he did now.

He was furious with himself, but he couldn't help the sobs that came out of his throat as he sat with his face hidden in his hands on his bed, his eye patch lying against his hip. Though he tried to calm down, convulsions shaked him.

You have done it now and you will do it again.

You abhore me and whenever you forget that I can give you pleasure, you will hurt me.

Something like a helpless, high-pitched, pathetic whine ripped from his throat as he once again recalled her words stifled in despair, the expression on her face, the cruel disappointment when she realised what he had become.

He cried because she had humiliated him, he cried because she had left him despite him asking her to stay, he cried because he loved her and he cried because he knew subconsciously that she had been right.

He was no different from his brother, whom he despised.

Although he wanted to think of himself as always being guided by cold reason and logic, it turned out that he was as thoughtless and impulsive as he was.

He couldn't erase from his mind her horrified expression, her loud sobs when he realised that he had held her cheeks between his fingers as tightly as if he wanted to break her jaw.

The thought that this could have all been planned by her mother, that she could have made a fool of him, made him want to cause her pain, to take his payment for the thought that she had deceived him.

However, when it became apparent that his forethought had gone too far, all that was left was her regret and his despair that he could not take it back.

At the same time, he wanted her to suffer and to be safe, to moan beneath him in pleasure and in terror, to smile and despair at the sight of him.

His disgust and adoration for her and her family fused into one in his mind and he couldn't separate it.

It was too late.

He was deciding that he would destroy her only to find, after a while, that he would attempt to reason with her, that what had happened between them had brought back those wonderful memories, had given him some kind of hope, although he didn't know for what.

They both knew that whatever they had shared as children had partly survived in this twisted, deformed, cruel form.

He only fell asleep in the morning, tired and resigned, terrified, trying to soothe himself with the thought of the warmth of her body, of their fingers brushing against each other in the air in the warm light of the fire.

In that one moment, he felt that it was like before.

He was awakened from his restless sleep by servants informing him that in a few hours there was to be a gathering in the throne room, to be presided over by his grandfather. With their help, he dressed in a simple emerald tunic, a gift from his mother, proof of whose side he was on, who he would support.

After what had happened during the night, he expected her visit.

Indeed, she appeared in his chamber as he sat thoughtfully at the table where his morning meal had been served, which he had not even touched, gazing thoughtfully out of the window.

"What have you done?" She asked with a grief and helplessness that frustrated him; he pressed his lips together at the thought of her comparing him to Aegon so easily, thinking that whatever his niece had given him, he had taken it by force.

"I don't know what you mean, mother." He replied emotionlessly, not even bestowing a single glance on her, in an involuntary reflex that he had inherited from her fiddling and plucking the cuticles around his fingernails, an expression of his subconscious anxiety and nervousness.

His Queen stood before him with her hands folded over her womb, looking at him pleadingly, as if she hoped he would tell her that what her guards had reported to her was not true.

"Your guards, Aemond. They heard inappropriate sounds coming from this chamber, and then they saw Rhaenyra's daughter running out of it crying." She said in a breaking, weak voice; he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes, licking his lower lip impatiently.

"She came to me alone to speak and express to me her… longing. Nothing happened." He said, choosing his words so that they were not entirely a lie, realising with embarrassment that he could smell her moisture, her taste on his tongue, and a shudder went through him.

He rebuked himself in thought, swallowing loudly, running his hand over his face, reminding himself that his mother was standing before him.

His mother looked out of the window, breathing loudly, knowing there was something else lurking in his words. She ran her hand over her neck as if trying to calm herself and not panic.

"Should…should she drink moon tea?" She choked out at last in a low, desperate voice, and he lifted his gaze to her, heavy and dark.

"No."

His word hung in the air like a storm cloud; there was something final in his voice, ending the discussion in his mind.

His mother breathed a quiet sigh, as if relieved, but immediately doubt was on her face again, as if it only raised more questions and anger in her mind.

"Why didn't you send her away? Do you know how that might affect your future betrothal to Lord Baratheon's daughter? What would he say if he found out you were hosting another woman in your chamber at night?" She asked clearly losing her patience, but he was not sure if this was purely due to his behaviour or because she was taking it out on him for what Aegon had done and for not being able to reason with Helaena.

He turned away and answered nothing, looking out the window at the courtyard full of people – he heard her sigh of rage, felt her disappointment and dismay.

He didn't want to infuriate her further with words that he didn't give a shit about what Lord Baratheon or his daughters might have thought of him.

Even standing in the throne room they were separated from the others; he stood behind his brother and sister with his arms folded behind his back, pretending he felt nothing at the sight of Rhaenyra and her bastard son holding her hand as if he were an infant.

Something about the sight made him feel like he was going to vomit, the thought that Luke was pretending to be innocent, unaware, hurt.

Yet he was the one who had lost everything.

He tried to look only at him, but failed miserably, his gaze fleeing to his side, searching for her. He only found her, to his surprise, by Daemon's side; he was saying something to her with amusement and mockery, looking ahead nonchalantly. Even though she was pale, he noticed that there was a small smile on her face, from which he felt discomfort in his lower abdomen.

His would-be betrothed was dressed all in black, her gown fitted to her body, a single ruby ring on her finger, her bare neck and shoulders devoid of any adornment seemed even more shameless to him, by being exposed it focused his attention even more, coming to the fore surrounded at the back by her long dark hair.

He thought of her and Rhaenyra standing similarly, both of them playing with the rings on their fingers with their heads slightly tilted.

He pressed his lips together thinking of how not long ago he had kissed that beautiful long neck, how he had drank from her and licked her there, deep between her thighs, her forbidden fruit that he had tasted and by which he was cursed for eternity.

He swallowed hard when he saw that her gaze lifted to his uncle as if something he had said had surprised her and she laughed, sincerely and genuinely, revealing her teeth for a moment, then lowered her eyelids, still smiling, her eyes framed by her long black lashes.

Look at me, he thought with rage, not even seeing that his grandfather had already sat on the Iron Throne, that he had begun his speech – she, however, was looking at the stone floor in front of her.

He felt discomfort, he felt disappointment, he felt uncertainty.

His gaze shifted to Daemon, who also did not seem interested in what was happening around them.

There was something between them, he could feel it, some sort of bond from which fury rose in his throat.

He felt an unpleasant chill at the back of his neck at the thought that perhaps he had made the wrong assumption in thinking that he was the first man to have seen her bare body, to have touched her, and he felt a fury bordering on madness overwhelm him.

He had the feeling that none of what he was seeing was really happening.

Vaemond's words, then the sudden entrance of his father, who, though dying, found the strength as usual to defend her, his favourite, only child. He felt himself grinning, felt like laughing at this sight, so pathetic and saying everything about who they were for him.

An addition, a background.

He never felt important, loved or wanted in his eyes.

He was proud of him only once, when he commanded him to marry his niece and he agreed, but even in this he managed to disappoint his hopes.

He felt his breath stuck in his throat as he glanced at her involuntarily at the thought and their eyes met.

It seemed to him to startle her, as if he had caught her in the act.

She lowered her gaze, her eyebrows arched in pain, as if she was suffering at the sight of him.

Why?

Why couldn't he get her out of his thoughts and heart?

"Her children are BASTARDS!" He heard someone's enraged shout and turned his gaze towards him, looking at Vaemond with disbelief and awe.

"And she. Is. A whore."

All gathered made horrified, shocked sounds as the blade sliced through the air and part of Colrys Velaryon brother's head fell to the stone floor.

"He can keep his tongue." Said Daemon with some sort of boredom and disapproval, wiping his Dark Sister, Visenya's sword, against his tunic before the guards could reach him.

It seemed to him that everything that happened around them always came back to her words.

Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise.

Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys.

Standing beside the table before the supper that his father himself had insisted on, his older brother began showering him with questions that he had no desire to answer.

He was glancing once in a while at his niece, his uncle and his eldest daughter, Baela, who was standing on the other side of the chamber, looking at him sinisterly, playing with her necklace.

Whore.

He grinned at the thought of how he'd punched her in the face when they were children and thought he'd love to do it again.

"Our niece has quite a pleasant curves, don't you think, brother? Is she tight, or has uncle Daemon managed to stretch her out properly already?" He muttered while taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet – he looked at him with a gaze from which his elder brother merely rolled his eyes and fell silent.

As the King was carried into the chamber everyone took their seats; he felt his jaw clench at the sight of her sitting at the end of the table to the left of Daemon, as far away from him as possible. His impatience and gloomy musings were interrupted by the voice of his mother, who had decided to pray for Vaemond, and then make a toast.

"I would like to raise my cup for Jace and Baela and Luke and Rhaena, hoping that their marriages will be prosperous and blessed. I would also like to raise my cup to my son, Aemond, who will soon marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters." She said softly; an uncomfortable silence fell around her, his heart pounding like mad.

He looked at her, but her blank gaze was fixed on her plate, her lips pressed together, her face pale; he had the impression that her body was trembling almost imperceptibly.

Say something, he thought, although he couldn't tell if he was directing his thought to himself or to her.

"I do not recall my brother's decision to marry Prince Aemond to my daughter ever being called into question." Said Daemon, startling him completely, he and his niece cast quick, horrified glances at each other, shocked.

Oh fuck.

Alicent laughed nervously, shaking her head, glancing at her husband for support.

"We've made a mutual decision that it's not worth stinging an old wound, haven't we, my love?" She asked, but his father remained silent.

He pressed his lips together, feeling the rapid beating of his heart as his King looked at him, breathing heavily through his mouth, looking at him thoughtfully, his gaze weary.

"You have made it, Alicent. I never had a say in the matter. But the House of the Dragon will not remain strong unless it is finally united." He said impatiently, in a hoarse, broken voice, slamming his fist on the table, complete silence all around him.

"I do not want my decisions to lead to another misfortune. I am allowing our children to decide." He said with difficulty, his mother shook her head saying that it was impossible, that everything had already been settled.

There was a commotion at the table, Rhaenyra stood up saying that she would not force her daughter to do anything, however, she had already begun courting her to marry her cousin. Aegon laughed out loud, covering his mouth with his hand trying to hide his amusement, glancing at him with raised eyebrows.

He looked at her at last, the woman he had spent the night with, her eyelashes, her dark, wise, warm gaze, her lips parted in pain and fear, her cheeks flushed with emotion, her hair, her neck, her breasts that he caressed with such devotion, her thighs and what was between them, what could only be his if he said the word.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

"Aemond." His mother's pleading voice snapped him out of his thoughts; he looked at her with wide eye, in her gaze a plea for him not to let her down, not to betray her, to stand by her side.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her again, at the woman who was his curse.

"My niece is disgusted with me, is she not? Tell us what you think of me, my Lady Strong." He said coolly, wanting to shift the burden of this choice onto her, not willing to embarrass himself or show himself as desperate if she were to respond that she would never marry him.

He figured he'd give her a chance to end it once and for all, and then when she left him for the next and final time, he'd kill her with his own hands.

"My place is with you, uncle. It always has been."

Her answer, her expression, her plump lips parted in anguish, the tears at the corners of her eyes, her breasts rising and falling rapidly in horror at what she had just done made him simply stare at her in disbelief, silence all around them.

My place is with you, uncle.

It always has been.

He felt his heart squeeze so hard that he had trouble catching his breath – he lowered his gaze and, with a trembling hand, raised his cup to his lips, taking a deep sip from it, feeling that chaos reigned in his mind.

Despite the fact that for years he did not answer her.

Despite the fact that she was afraid of him.

Despite the fact that he hurt her.

Despite everything.

He looked at her and licked his lower lip, feigning indifference, raising his cup to his lips again to hide the thrill that lurked in his voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[agentrouka-blog]

Oh, spot on about the double standard thing. Its so disgusting, literally the fandom's reaction to the wedding disgusts me more than the actual wedding. The wedding was in Sansa's POV for a damn reason (but even if its not- its really not hard to realise this whole thing is horrifying for her???). I can't watch a video of that scene to this day because the comments are so gross. Why the fuck should Sansa be anything but devastated she's married to a man twice her age and is now an official prisoner of the Lannisters?? I use the Tyrion-Sansa wedding as a litmus test, and the sad part is women and men alike fail

(post referenced)

I know, I know. :(

It really doesn't help that the show went out of its way to entirely change the dynamic surrounding that wedding. There would have been no question of whether or not Tyrion is a monster if they had actually depicted Peter Dinklage and Sophie Turner acting out even a fraction of what happens in the actual book chapter. And they can't tell me it's because they didn't like depicting gratuitous sexual abuse, since they couldn't have been more gleeful to invent an actual non-canonical rape plot for Sansa in Season 5.

They were very intent on whitewashing Tyrion at all times.

[dwellordream]

thoughts on HOTD episode 2, season 2 (spoilers below)

phia saban and tom glynn carney knocked it out of the park this episode, and so did olivia cook. alicent's panic attack as she blames herself for invoking some sort of karmic retribution by having sex outside of marriage, helaena and aegon's animalistic grief over the loss of their son- it was all fantastic. i'm glad the episode did not quickly breeze over the response to jaehaerys' death in an effort to speed through the plot. helaena's meltdown when the funeral procession is stuck in a pothole exemplifies her awareness of the horrible story she's in. she knows there is no way for anyone to win this war, and that the suffering will only triple with every turn. she's beloved by the common folk as a martyr, and it horrifies and disgusts her.

some fans are pissed rhaenyra doesn't take any responsibility for the murder/is shown as being horrified and disgusted by daemon's actions. i understand the argument that her being unaware further reduces her autonomy, but i also feel this instance shows the fundamental disconnect between her and daemon. they aren't actually equals in this relationship, based on how it began. not just because he is her uncle and because he groomed her as a child, but because they've never fully trusted one another, and they can't. on some level they will always be rivals for the throne, because daemon will never be 100% comfortably fully ceding his authority to his wife and abandoning any hope of himself on the iron throne.

a single scene between baela and jace is somehow more than they did with the entirety of season one, but the bar is literally in hell here. i hope the writers make more time for the twins in season two, because it's a waste of their characters to constantly relegate them (and often the velaryons in general) to the shadows.

of course aemond is drinking milk while lying in the lap of a brothel madam, lmao. as much as this scene has been mocked, i think people miss the point. aemond is not supposed to be a swaggering badass. he is a deeply disturbed, pathetic person. that doesn't mean he can't have cool moments, but he is a delusional, amoral, neurotic person. he craves any kind of maternal affection and approval, and he warps events to match his own internal expectations.

i'm not sure if i buy mysaria's change of heart and decision to help rhaenyra, not because it wasn't well-acted (and i'm glad they gave mysaria and rhaenyra a scene together), but because it just seems like she's putting it all on the line yet again for a family that has repeatedly shown they will use and abuse her without thought. that said, the erryk/arryk scene was really well done, and i'm relieved they didn't have rhaenyra suddenly show some secret training in arms, lol

i think the 'daeron does exist!' reveal was very awkward, and they absolutely could have mentioned him before this, but i suppose they wanted to dangle daeron as this surprise dark horse for the greens? idk i'm curious to see what they do with him. overall, i enjoyed this episode more than the first, and i'd definitely give it an 8/10. pretty good, and i hope the season continues with this stronger writing.

[horizon-verizon]

I'm YOU but I'm crossing my fingers that the Alicole thing is a lie. I can't take the crazy writing decisions of this show anymore!! Can someone in the writing room give consistency to TG?! Certainly the blacks were robbed and diminished but they are also moderately consistent in their writing

I swear I'm crying and pulling my hair, hitting my head to see if a concussion makes any of this make sense. Alicent "you are the threat Aegon", Alicent "OMG they planned an usurpation?!" Alicent "she will kill my children", Alicent "UPS my son killed hers", Alicent "I want his eye", Alicent "Aemond be good to those guys ❤️" Alicent "extramarital sex is bad", Alicent "Cole is the exception". What do you want Alicent?! What do you really believe in?! This goes beyond being hypocritical and using patriarchy to her advantage, What Alicent believes from one chapter to the next changes according to the need of the script. Just give that poor woman some consistency, the cognitive dissonance can't be that strong 😭

If I have to grab Show!Alicent and analyze her motives, what she wants and what she is... I'm left blank. She is a plot device that instead of allowing her to move the plot they kept her locked away and untouchable. She's not nuanced, she's inconsistent.

I can't be bothered, I've long given up on the show. I'm here for memes, article links, the dragons, and enjoying being proven right as obnoxious as that seem or is. To me, this show and its writers have been obnoxious, sexist, and condescending. Sure the dragons will be entertaining if maybe not as colorful as they should be--which might just be a trailer-specific dilution to otherwise make the preimeire that much more visually stunning--but I have a sneaking suspicion the writing will fall too short for other characters or contradict itself again.

Alicole will be just hilarious to me.

But to get into Alicent's character (bc I can't resist):

"OMG they planned an usurpation?!"

I believe it wasn't that they planned a usurpation, but that she was left out of their plans and those plans being to murder Rhaneyra. About the murdering Rhaenyra part, I do look 👀 at her, bc...this is a usurpation and you have already tried to get this women/her kids' lives ruined on multiple occassions or put those kids' lives in danger! Clear inconsistency. However, the fact that these men planned without including her at all is definitely a good thing in terms of her hypocritical characterization--the leopards have eaten her face. It's just her immediate desire to save Rhaenyra out of "love" is some crazy ass bullshit.

Alicent "she will kill my children", Alicent "UPS my son killed hers"

By the 2nd I take it you meant her surprise in how Aemond could have ever killed her kid during an envoy mission before Rhaenrya could try to any of them, thus immediately proving herself/Otto wrong. I'm fine with this actually. Again, describes and paints her hypocrisy, and the problem is that she then continues (by the trailers) try to diminish it as Aemond wanting semi-righteous revenge. To me, despite the whole kin-slaying being a huge cultural no-no, Alicent is also betraying Viserys' and going against his word before Aemond kills Luke. She has always been this way.

Alicent "extramarital sex is bad", Alicent "Cole is the exception".

Same as above. Alicent may make herself-Criston the exception bc she is at least "hiding" her relationship and (MAYBE, if it began after Viserys died) it was not while she was married...as if this would matter to the Andal-Faith patriarchal authorities of womanly behavior and totally save them from their condemnation?! Think of Otto's reaction if he were to know? He would either be as horrified and shocked, or he already knows and keeps mum bc it is towards his benefit but he'd still resent & be disgusted with her or accuse her of being sluttish privately as if he's the paragon of sexual ethics. Again, perfectly shows her hypocrisy.

Really, it's that she doesn't have her bk!counterpart's ruthless politicking except in one episode out of 10 (the 6th one). It's ruined by the implication that she cannot really think or reason bc she was SAed for most of her married life and pimped out, which spells some disturbing, oversimplifying implications for SA victims and esp those who are femme, female identifying, or women/girls. From the already-there notion of femininity being innately "irrational", creative, and nonintellectual.

But I also ultimately agree with you abt her being more a plot device than a character who does what the script of the day requires her---once more, bc she's forced to delusionally see possible friendship in Rhaenyra AND bc she doesn't have a clear, steady, personal motive separate from the stuff Otto-the-individual imparts on her and that guides her actions aside from blind envy and a need to see everyone conform towards the "peace for the realm" that she herself doesn't even follow. Not like with Rhaenyra's desire to find some sort of functioning and the least self-erasing compromise b/t duty and happiness/autonomy when we see her w/Aemma.

We never truly established what Alicent wanted at the core--in the bk, that was the highest rank, prestige, etc. possible for a woman. In the first season, all the possible possibilities and things you can see in Olivia's portrayals show a woman wanting to find final validation within the system...but we needed a more concrete aim aside from her jealousy and other than fear of her kids dying, which is what we were left with. Show!Alicent went wherever the wind took her (the wind here Otto, perceived expectations of her, and her own resentments). That's the heart of the grand inconsistency, I think. The void that is this character.

They never replaced Alicent's loss of ambition with something just as self-serving than just "she should suffer like me" that guides and justifies that inner feeling into the real world. Something that would keep her interesting and engaged with the war players.

Rhaenyra still has huge issues in her characterization that I already went over in other posts. This article by some Substack writer also gets into it, but overall, Rhaenyra is more steady & concrete than Alicent.

[olreid]

it feels like this season would be a lot better if it was aimed snd described to be like. horror *themed* rather than actual horror. Like, D20 is at its core a comedy dnd show, and it's a tight line to walk to get all 3 of those to come together if you want something actually horrifying, but if they just went like. the Nightvale route where it's playing with horror stuff rather than attempting to be legitametly scary, it would work a lot better for their format. but alas :/

yeah i agree, a lot of my frustration comes from the fact that it was specifically billed as horror but isn't doing the work to deliver on that promise. although knowing what we know now, i honestly might still be having these issues if it was a horror comedy. one of my real problems with how the season has been handled is how this weird blend of horrific reality and comedic tone has served to reproduce hegemonic notions of the acceptable forms that bodies and persons can take. brennan introduces a monstrous npc and then makes them available to serve as a punchline, prompting players react to them dismissively and with disgust. there's not much critical interrogation of the circumstances which might produce nonnormative bodies and beings, nor much attempt to get to know these people as people rather than gimmicks and sideshows. rapunzel, for example, is not allowed the space to share her backstory in its full complexity, how the circumstances of her childhood led her to become what she is, because the party is too busy exclaiming at how icky it is that she can climb walls or listen with her hair or whatever. that ableism in horror post was going around again this week but truly one of the easiest shortcuts to take in horror is 'haha look how weird and different this is, isn't it gross and scary and bad?' this despite the fact that the season specifically set itself the task of troubling and critically interrogating the dichotomies of good/bad, hero/villain, monster/human set up in our cultural myths and fairytales.

when people try to emulate horror uncritically and without a working knowledge of generic history and conventions, i do think a lot of the time what happens is they end up just relying on the power of a series of horrific images rather than creating plots and structures that actually produce horror. they're literally supposed to be in a time loop but they're not being forced to repeat anything. instead of trapping the characters within structures social or philosophical, or turning them against each other, or making them question their reality, what happens in almost every episode is that the party encounters an npc they think is gross. they gag and shriek. they move on to the next. the party grows closer, having defined themselves by what they are not. their camaraderie, built on the backs of these people who have adapted to their circumstances in order to survive in ways that are not beautiful or easily understandable, is the force that will save the world, because that's how d&d works.