#i will force her into situations (to be a witness not to suffer) if i have to just to give her screentime she deserves

[radrobotz]

i reaaallyyy gotta post about shattered casually more cuz every time i make some new development i get so hyped but cant really share it without needing to give context starting from "who the fuck is this" 😭

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Family Legacies

Summary - Amidst the chaos of war, two childbirths unfold. A mother's potential agony and a new mother's fear collide, as life and loss intertwine in a moment that will define their family's legacy forever.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Childbirth, mentions of a potential stillbirth (doesn't happen)

Word count - 2101

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp as short, rapid breaths escaped me. One hand pressed against my trembling lips, while the other instinctively cradled my swollen stomach. Tears blurred my vision as I stood frozen, watching my mother-in-law writhe in excruciating pain.

The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the low, desperate cries that echoed through the stone walls. Every sound seemed magnified, each breath a struggle against the weight of the scene unfolding before me.

"Someone, get her out!" Rhaenyra cried, her voice thick with tears and agony. She moaned and groaned, her body drenched in blood—blood that shouldn't have been there.

"My sweet, you shouldn't be here. Not like this," she insisted, her words strained yet filled with concern. 

Elinda, her handmaiden, approached me, gently urging me to move, but I remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away from the horrific scene unfolding before me.

My heart ached as I watched Rhaenyra scream and thrash, her strength faltering. 

Even in her torment, she was desperate to shield me from the brutal reality of what she was enduring, knowing how close I was to my own childbirth.

"But you... I—" I stammered, my voice weak and trembling. 

Panic surged through me, immobilizing me as I tried to process the fact that Rhaenyra Targaryen, one of the strongest women I had ever known, was suffering like this while I stood there, on the brink of giving birth myself.

"Jace, get her out!" Rhaenyra commanded sharply. I flinched as I felt strong hands grasp my shoulders, guiding me away with firm insistence.

"Come, my darling," Jace murmured softly, trying to comfort me as we walked, his voice a gentle anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside me. 

I struggled to steady my breathing, each step feeling like a monumental effort.

Jace's eyes flicked between me and the door, torn between the duty to his mother and the terror of losing me. His hands tightened on my shoulders, a silent plea for strength when his own was crumbling.

"Jace, it hurts," I whispered, the words barely audible. 

He nodded, rubbing my shoulders soothingly, but I suddenly stopped, gasping as a sharp, searing pain shot through my abdomen.

"My love, please," he urged, but I doubled over, a pained expression contorting my face. 

A warm, wet sensation trickled down my legs, and I instinctively stepped back, horrified as I looked down to see a growing puddle of water staining the cold stone floor.

The pain hit like a tidal wave, crashing through me with relentless force. My vision blurred, every nerve aflame, as the corridor spun around me. I was drowning in it, barely able to surface long enough to grasp Jace's hand.

"Jace..." I gasped, my voice quivering with fear. 

His eyes widened in alarm, the gravity of the situation dawning on him as worry etched itself deep into his features.

Jace's expression shifted from concern to sheer panic as the realization hit him like a crashing wave. His mother was suffering through the agony of a violent birth, and now, here I was, on the verge of giving birth right in the midst of it all. 

The horror of the situation was almost too much to bear.

His hands tightened on my shoulders as he tried to usher me away, his voice strained and urgent. 

"We need to go, now," he said, his tone a desperate mixture of fear and determination. 

Yet, I couldn't move. My legs felt like they were made of lead, my mind a whirlwind of terror after witnessing the horrific scene with Rhaenyra. 

I clung to him, my voice breaking as I pleaded, "I don't want to do this, Jace. Not after what I just saw. I'm scared... I'm so scared." 

The panic in my voice was unmistakable, my body trembling violently against his.

"Please, my love, you have to be strong," he urged, though his own voice wavered, betraying the turmoil raging inside him. 

He was trying so hard to be my rock, to guide me away from the chaos, but I could see the fear in his eyes—the fear that he might lose both of us, his mother and me, in the same tragic moment.

I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face as I gripped his arms. 

"I can't... I don't want to go through this. Not like this," I sobbed, my mind flashing back to Rhaenyra's agonized screams, the blood, the horror. It was all too much, too overwhelming, and the thought of going through it myself now was paralyzing.

Jace's heart broke at my words, but he knew there was no other choice. 

He pulled me closer, his voice trembling but resolute. "I know you're scared, and I am too, but we have to keep going. For our child. You're strong, stronger than you know."

But his words couldn't reach the depths of my fear. I shook my head again, my body still recoiling from the trauma of what I had just witnessed. 

"No, Jace, I can't... I don't want to lose our babe... I can't do this," I cried out, my voice filled with desperation.

He swallowed hard, tears of his own welling up as he realized the depth of my terror. His mother's agony, my impending labour—it was too much, too cruel. But he knew he couldn't let fear paralyze us both. 

"We'll get through this together," he promised, though his voice was thick with emotion. "I won't let anything happen to you or our child, but we need to move. Please, trust me."

With trembling hands, I finally let him guide me, though every step was weighted with dread. 

The images of Rhaenyra's suffering haunted me, and I could feel my own body betraying me, the labour coming on faster than I could control.

As we moved away from the chaotic scene, I clung to Jace, my heart pounding with terror. I didn't know if I could do this if I could survive what was to come. 

All I knew was that I had no choice but to try.

The pain intensified with every passing moment, waves of agony crashing over me as I was led to a room away from the horrors of what I had just witnessed. 

Jace remained by my side, his hand never leaving mine, his presence the only thing anchoring me to reality as fear threatened to consume me.

Every contraction felt like fire ripping through me, and with each one, my mind flashed back to Rhaenyra's anguished screams, the blood, the sheer brutality of it all. My terror was palpable, a suffocating weight that made it hard to breathe. 

I clutched Jace's hand, my knuckles white, and looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Jace, I'm so scared," I whispered, my voice trembling as tears streamed down my face. "I can't stop thinking about what happened to Rhaenyra... What if—"

"Shhh, my love," Jace murmured, his voice soft but firm as he gently wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Don't think about that now. Focus on our child. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

He knelt beside me, his face inches from mine, his eyes filled with an unwavering resolve. Despite his own fear, he was determined to be my strength. 

"You're doing so well, and I'm so proud of you," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "Just breathe with me, okay? We're going to get through this together."

But the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of my mind. 

"Jace, I need to know... What happened to Rhaenyra? Is she... Is she okay?" The question slipped out between laboured breaths, my heart clenching as I awaited his response.

For a moment, Jace hesitated, his jaw tightening as he struggled with the right words. 

Then, his expression softened, and he nodded, his eyes filling with a mixture of relief and sadness. "She gave birth to a girl. Visenya. She's alive and well."

A wave of relief washed over me, momentarily easing the terror gripping my heart. 

"Visenya..." I whispered, closing my eyes as tears of gratitude joined the ones of pain. "Thank the gods..."

Jace squeezed my hand, his own eyes glistening. "Yes, my love. She made it through, and so will you. You're almost there."

The labour grew more intense, the pain almost unbearable, but Jace never left my side. He held my hand through every contraction, whispering words of encouragement and love, his voice the only thing keeping me grounded as I fought to bring our child into the world.

Hours felt like days as the ordeal dragged on, my body exhausted and trembling, but Jace was there every step of the way. 

When I screamed, he held me tighter. When I thought I couldn't go on, he reminded me of the life we were about to welcome.

Finally, with one last, excruciating push, I felt the pressure release, and the sound of a baby's first cry filled the room. 

Relief flooded my body, overwhelming and all-consuming. 

I collapsed back against the pillows, gasping for breath, tears streaming down my face a handmaiden carefully placed a tiny, wailing bundle in my arms.

"It's a boy," she announced softly, and Jace let out a choked sob, his hand trembling as he brushed back a damp strand of hair from my forehead.

"A boy..." I repeated in awe, looking down at our son, his small face scrunched up as he cried. 

He was perfect, his tiny fingers grasping at the air, his cries strong and healthy. My heart swelled with a fierce, protective love that drowned out the lingering fear and pain.

Jace leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine, his voice thick with emotion. 

"You did it, my love. You brought our son into the world." 

He kissed my forehead, his tears mingling with mine as we both gazed down at our newborn child, our hearts overflowing with joy and relief.

In that moment, all the terror and anguish melted away, replaced by the overwhelming happiness of holding our son in our arms. 

Despite everything we had endured, the horrors we had witnessed, we had made it through. 

It was just us, our tiny miracle cradled between us, a beacon of hope that pierced through the darkest night we had ever known.

Our family was safe, and as I looked into Jace's tear-filled eyes, I knew that nothing else mattered. We were together, and our son was here, healthy and alive. It was finally, blissfully, a moment of peace and happiness.

As we basked in the quiet joy of the moment, one of the handmaidens, her voice gentle and filled with reverence, asked softly, "Have you chosen a name for him?"

Jace and I exchanged a glance, the unspoken weight of the question hanging in the air between us. 

We had talked about names before, but now, holding our son in our arms, the decision felt monumental, as if his name would set the course of his life, binding him to his heritage and the legacy of those who had come before him.

I looked into Jace's eyes, searching for the strength we had shared throughout this ordeal, the bond that had carried us through the darkest moments. 

With a trembling voice, I whispered, "Lucerys."

Jace's reaction was immediate. His breath hitched, and his eyes filled with fresh tears as the name resonated within him. It was a name steeped in memory and pain, a name that honoured his lost brother, Lucerys Velaryon, whose life had been tragically cut short. 

The grief he had carried for his brother, the guilt and sorrow that had haunted him, now found a place in the hope and love he held for our son.

He nodded, unable to speak, his throat tight with emotion. 

Instead, he pulled me closer, his tears falling freely as he held our son, cradling him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. 

In naming our child Lucerys, we had not only given him an identity but had also woven him into the fabric of our shared history, a history marked by loss but also by enduring love and resilience.

"Lucerys," Jace finally whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of the name. 

In that moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the significance of the name settling over us like a benediction. 

Jace's tears fell onto our son's tiny forehead, and he smiled through the pain, through the joy, knowing that our son would carry the name of a beloved brother, a name that would forever link the past and the future, binding our family together in a legacy of love, courage, and hope.

"Our Lucerys."

A/n - Ok I was all set to dive deep into the angst and heartbreak, and I nearly made everyone suffer for it but I couldn't bring myself to go through with it. So yes, both babies live, because I have that power here and maybe I cried at the ending who knows (I did I miss Luke 😔)

[sayruq]

Hi world, it’s Eman Please read this as if I’m a member of your family, may be your sister , daughter or a friend and as if my family who’s under death now is yours.Today, I reach out with a heavy heart and a place for your kindness and support . I am not just seeking to fundraise. I am seeking to save the lives of my beloved family members who are currently trapped in a nightmare. All of whom depend on your generosity to escape Gaza Strip to Egypt , get the medical help needed and begin a new life where we are seeking safety. This is me Eman

My name is Eman , a girl in her thirties (39- years old) and a computer science graduate .Iam speaking from the heart of Gaza, a place that was once vibrant with life and has now become painfully marked by the effects of wars that spared no war. I live with my mother, Etemad (60 years old ) and my father, Saed (70 years old . My mother and my father

My sister Khaleda is ( 41 years old ) She has four children. Three sons .Saed ,3 years old. Abdul Rahman, 5 years old ,and Adam, 9 years old .Her daughter, Lyan, is (4 years old) .

Khaleda's Children

Iam suffering of one of the most common generic disorders which is thalassaemia. It’s so tiring and difficult disease. And due to the war, I lack medical care and treatments. My health is getting worse and deteriorating as treatment became insufficient. Iam in need to plasma exchange regularly ,the thing that my family find so difficult because of blockage and destruction of hospitals , in addition to the risks of going out our shelters every day as the bombs everywhere . My family deserve the opportunity to live a full life. I can’t bear the thought of losing any member of them.

My father, Saed, is suffering from heart disease .He has blockage of the heart arteries . Doctors advised him not to expose himself to the news and events that affect his mental and physical health. He urgently needs to undergo the necessary tests and surgery.

My mother, Etemad, has chronic diseases (blood pressure and diabetes ) . She needs regular follow up and medical treatment .She is struggling to obtain the necessary medications , waiting too long in clinics for subpar alternatives if found.

My family and I were very close knit enjoying simple pleasure and cherishing moment together. Now all that remains are memories scattered among the rubble of our destroyed home in Gaza. We witnessed death with our own eyes and were forced to flee our home in fear of our lives .During this time , we also received the news of the deaths of several relatives and friends due to indiscriminate bombardments. Now, I find Myself with my family displaced in a plastic tent in Al-Zawaydah , our last refuge, living inhuman conditions and enduring unimaginable hardships along the way.

We’re currently sleeping on the ground in a tent that does not protect us from the heat of summer or the cold of winter . We are located there ,with no access to essential items like clean drinking water , electricity , healthy food and cooking gas .Death and destruction followed us everywhere , Our home was bombed and bulldozed and our hopes and dreams were shattered along with it .We are enduring a suffering that is beyond anything you can imagine. Me with my family are in a very critical situation in tents .Tasks are divided among us to sustain ourselves. My father fetches water if ever found from a distant area early every morning. My mother cooks and washes our clothes using traditional methods .This is why we are asking for your help, as we are still in danger in South Gaza and can’t receive the medical care needed. Our new life in tents

Since the beginning of Israel’s assault on Gaza, we were forced to evacuate several times leaving behind our home and the future we had been working towards. Walking without carrying our personal belongings, our clothes or even money in search of a safe place until we managed to escape to the south of Gaza Strip .

Gaza, a place that I call home has been transformed into a landscape of destructions and despair . The reality we live in is one of the constant fear, where the sounds of explosions drown out the dreams and aspirations of its people .In what seems like an instant , everything my family and I held there had been ripped away by the chaos of war . A side of our suffering in tents

This campaign is not just about escaping Gaza. It’s about reclaiming a future where my family can live without the shadow of fear , where we can get the medical care and treatment needed and where we can once again embrace the joys of life without grief . The price of leaving Gaza is high and far beyond my family means. so I have initiated this fundraising campaign to urgently gather funds to help my family leave Gaza as soon as possible. The funds collected will be carefully allocated for the following purposes: Firstly , it will contribute to providing a safe passage to Egypt , which is a vital step for the family’s safety. Secondly: covering the medical treatment. Costs and medications for me , my father and my mother . In addition to the need for comprehensive examinations in Egypt to ensure our safety after the war. Thirdly : the funds will be allocated to provide temporary accommodation for the family in Egypt, giving them stability and the opportunity to explore the best path for their future . Finally , it will cover initial living expenses in Egypt granting the family the time and space needed to relax and rebuild their lives after the ordeal of the genocide in Gaza .

Eman's family has only raised $610 USD out of $50,000 goal. Please support the family by sharing. Donate if you can

[demiesworld]

don't underestimate them.

synopsis: reader goes on a mission with hantengu. before the mission she encounters his emotional counterparts and they seem to have an interest in her.

characters: fem!demon!reader x sekido, karaku, aizetsu, & urogi

contents: inexperienced!reader, choking, dub-con, overstimulation, hair pulling, anal, nipple play, biting, creampie, 5-some, handjobs, masochism, cunninlingus, rough sex, clawing, dirty talk, just pure filth

note: reader is upper moon 5 (let's just say gyokko got murked and she's his replacement) this takes place after entertainment district arc and before swordsmith village arc. this is my first time writing smut in like a long time. hope i didn't disappoint. reader uses she/her pronouns. NOT BETA READ!

credits to the original artist of the photo.

The strings of a biwa instrument plays when you are summoned into the Infinity Castle. Your body is covered in blood that is not yours and a murderous glare is painted on your face. You had just came back from a battle with the flamboyant sound hashira, Uzui Tengen, and his younger comrades three young demon slayer boys. While you, Gyutaro, and Daki put up a strong fight, it seemed to not be enough and the humans were victorious. It sickened you to be defeated by humans. It was pathetic of you to run away with your tail between your legs after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki get killed by the humans. What frustrated you again was you were summoned to Lord Muzan at the Infinity Castle to give your report on the battle. You had to explain what happened and why two upper moons, who were under your wing, ended up getting killed.

You stand on a floating block looking up at Nakime upon a block adjacent to yours. You could sense no other comrade in your sight. Great. This was going to be fun.

"Biwa Woman!" you shout over to her, "You summoned me here, now what is it that you want of me?"

She lowers her head but says nothing to you. Instead the lights get cut out and you hear the sound of the biwa instrument being plucked. You feel the room shift but you're still surrounded by darkness. 'She must have sent me to another room' you thought as your eyes shift around you. 'What sort of trick is she playing here with me?'

You take one step forward and the lights are turned back on. You are in a room. You're in Lord Muzan's sanctuary. Your body gets chills when you realize what situation you are in now. What will Lord Muzan do to you? Will he scold you for not protecting the upper moon 6? Will he kill you for running away like a coward instead of fighting till the end? Is he going to get rid of you as upper moon 5?

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off when you sense the feeling of multiple knives being stabbed into your body at once from the inside. You gasp for air, your clawed hands grasping at your throat and eyes forced to stare up at the ceiling above you. You fall to your knees desperately trying to breathe as your body violently shakes and trickles of blood seeps from the corners of your eyes, lips, and ears.

"Y/N..." you hear Lord Muzan's voice echo in the room you are suffering in. But you don't see him. It sounds like he's right in front of you yet physically he is not there. "I see that you made it out alive, but not Gyutaro and Daki. Why is that?"

You try to answer him, you want to answer him, to plead your case but that excruciating stabbing doesn't cease. Instead the invisible hold around your neck gets stronger and you let out a feeble squeak. You reach out a hand in an attempt to plead for mercy, but it gets sliced off. As a result, blood spurts out from your sliced off wrist, streams of red pooling on the floor into a puddle.

There was no mercy when it came to Lord Muzan. He showed none of the upper moons mercy if they didn't accomplish a single task that they were given. Yours was to eliminate the boy with the hanafuda earrings. A simple task that Lord Muzan thought you were capable of doing. Unfortunately, it seemed like you weren't competent enough. And you failed.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out another squeak before thrashing your legs forward. The grip on your neck loosens by just a hair giving you a chance to breathe. "L-Lord Muzan! Please, I-I can't-!" You cry out, your eyes still shut.

"If you hadn't been so careless and selfish during the battle, upper moons six would have been alive and those damned humans would be dead. Instead you wanted to save your own skin, and sacrifice your comrades to their untimely deaths. You knowingly escaped the fight after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki being killed; you could have defeated the humans upper moon five. You know that you could have, yet you did not. Let me ask you this question, do you think that they would have ran if they saw you getting beheaded Y/N?"

You whimper and shake your head before opening your eyes just to see Muzan standing there holding your neck in his hand. His glowing red eyes apathetically looking into yours. "L-Lord Muzan!"

"Answer my question."

"No my Lord! T-They wouldn't have ran, Gyutaro and Daki would have avenged me! I-I'm sorry I failed you-"

Muzan releases your neck and drops you on the ground, the stabbing feeling in your body comes to a sudden halt as you hunch over and cry in sorrow. He stares down at you with a blank gaze. "I don't care for your useless apology, it's not me you should be apologizing to." He takes a step over your body distancing himself from you, "It should be upper moons 6, whom you should say it to. Alas they are dead..." Muzan looks over his shoulder at you. "Is that not correct?"

You nod your head and sniffle, "Yes, Lord Muzan, they are dead because of me. I...I led them to their demise, to their graves, s-should I..." You lift your head to look at the back of your leader, a confused expression upon your face, "What should I do?" You didn't know what to do at this point.

He straightens his shoulders, "You will eventually figure it out on your own. Now... for your next task. If you are competent enough to execute it."

Your body heals itself from the internal injuries and regenerates your amputated hand as you stand to your full height. Muzan gives you your next mission and your eyes widen as you listen to what the location name is. You swallow before lowering on one knee and bowing your head to Muzan.

"I swear to you Lord Muzan," you began, "I won't fail you."

"Very well because if you do fail prepare to visit an unprecedented grave."

Those are the last words Muzan said to you before you are sent off to your next mission. This time you were paired with upper moon 4, Hantengu. The location he had given you was the swordsmith village.

Months ago you had found out about the location of the swordsmith village thanks to a kakushi that you killed during your time in the entertainment district. The swordsmith village was hidden up in the mountains; where the swordsmith forged swords and weapons for the Demon Slayer Corps. You gave the location to Muzan, hoping that one day you could infiltrate and kill the swordsmiths. However, as the time went by you never heard mention of the swordsmith village until now.

You arrive with Hantengu outside of the swordsmith village before the hours of sunrise within the forest. You are thankful that your demon body closely resembles a human female rather than something like Hantengu. You'd be able to blend if you were to encounter villagers meanwhile Hantengu would be outed by his deformed head. However, Hantengu was fearful of others and with his speed could easily dodge being seen by hiding in dark corners or in high trees.

"Come Hantengu, let's go, we cannot disappoint Lord Muzan." You addressed and you whisper under your breath, "Not again."

The scared demon followed you like a sheep making small whimpering noises and wringing his hands together. As you two traveled on foot, you noticed that the sun was starting to rise earlier than expected. Shit. You needed to find shelter and fast. With a growl and a huff you take Hantengu by the nape of his kimono and using your incredible speed you rushed to an empty shack you luckily found within minutes of the swordsmith village.

This was so infuriating to you. You were given a mission with who you believed was the weakest of the upper moons, despite him being a rank above you, in addition to you not knowing what his powers and abilities were. You had never seen Hantengu perform in battle as you were accustomed to watching him hide and lament during meetings at the Infinity Castle. You thought of him as weak, undeserving of the title as upper rank four, and a mere hindrance. To you a Lower Moon would have been useful hadn't Lord Muzan not killed them.

You enter inside with Hantengu and you let out a frustrated scream. Intentionally you threw the frail-bodied demon against the wall of the hut and your claws elongated, you began to voice your thoughts to Hantengu, "This is ridiculous! Why did Lord Muzan have to place me on a mission with you?! This is something I could handle myself! I can do it on my own! I can prove to Lord Muzan that I am worthy of being one of the twelve kizuki!" You bellow your thoughts to the shaking demon before you. Your clawed hands sharpening as you inch closer to Hantengu.

The demon cowered against the wall, holding up his quivering brittle hands to his head. Hantengu let out small, shaky snivels and he blubbered, "Eek! So loud! So scary and loud! Please!"

"Shut up with your pathetic whining! I can't even hear myself think!" You spat out, covering your ears with your hands. "You're so useless! You're unworthy of being upper rank four! What's the point of having you around if you're not going to be of use?!"

"Stop yelling at me please! I can't help it that I'm like this!" He continued to bicker with you, his croaky voice annoying you further into a blind rage.

You let out a shrill scream and swiped your clawed fingers at Hantengu. "I said shut up!"

Your clawed fingers slice off upper moon 4's head and it topples onto the ground. Inside of the shack the sound of silence permeates. Time goes still. You stand before the decapitated body and look at the head rolling on the ground, still lamenting only for it to stop at your feet. In disgust you coil back and kick it away from you.

"Disgusting." You utter.

Just then that severed head generates a body and the headless body grows a head. You briefly take a step back in shock as you witness glowing red eyes glaring angrily at you. "Han-Hantengu?" You call out your comrades name nervously. What did you do?

A low chuckle from behind you catches your attention and you look over your shoulder to see a tanned shirtless demon with long wavy black hair and horns on his head. His green eyes gazing back at you with mischief in them. "Aha! Isn't this great, Sekido? We got separated!" He takes a step forward towards you and holds your chin in his hand. "And by one of our own it seems..."

Your body was frozen to the ground, unable to move as the green-eyed demon was eyeing you up and down like you were his next meal. He looked like he wanted to devour you, but you weren't positive if that meant as sustenance or... that. A gasp escaped from your lips when he stuck out his long tongue and the kanji for "pleasure" was tattooed on it in black ink.

The sound of a staff being hit against wood startled you, pulling your gaze away from the wild eyed demon over to its copy. The demon whose name was Sekido rises to his feet his towering height making you seem small. With just one stride he easily sandwiches you between him and his look-alike; he huffs as he glares down at you. "Stupid wench." He growls, then he turns his attention to the green-eyed demon. "All I'm feeling is irritancy being around something like her."

"You say that, Sekido, but I'm getting a little excited around this one. She looks and smells divine."

Before you could berate him, the hand on your chin grips it tighter to keep you still, and he licks your cheek with his wet tongue. A shudder runs down your spine and you instinctively shove Karaku away from you. He cackles at your reaction.

"What happened to Hantengu? You disgusting bastard!" You took a defensive stance momentarily forgetting that Sekido was behind you.

Using your distraction as an opportunity, Sekido holds his staff against your neck and your backside presses against his front. Your hands grip at the staff desperately struggling to pull it away. You could feel his rigid torso underneath his kimono. You start to thrash in his hold, but he was too strong compared to you. The red-eyed demon growls into your ear, "Stop moving and maybe we will be lenient with you. Even though you don't deserve such a thing." His sharp fanged teeth gnaw on your ear causing you to arch away from it.

Karaku smirks at your resistance to the both of them and he calmly walks up to you placing his clawed hand on your breast. Your face heats up and you seethe, "Get your hands off of me," Karaku ignores your demand instead he squeezes the mound in his palm like a ball. An hearty, mirthful laugh coming from him when he sees you trying to move away from his touch.

"You say that you want our hands off, but I can smell the arousal coming from you, little minx." He cut through the center of the fabric of your dress using a clawed finger and tore it off leaving the cloth on the wooden floor in shreds. Your body was bare to them now, minus the undergarment that hid your mound. True to Karaku's word, a damp spot could be seen and it confirmed the demon's assumption.

"S-Stop looking at me! Get a-away from me you filthy, disgusting, vile," Your words get cut off by his warm mouth sucking on your left nipple.

Sekido grunts, "Calling us disgusting and vile yet you're the one who is craving it. That makes me mad knowing you want this, but you're refusing to yield." He bites down hard on your earlobe, to the point where blood leaks into his mouth.

That did it for you. Using all of your strength you yank the staff Sekido's holding and twist your body around to sever off his head utilizing the staff. You spin around on your foot and slash Karaku's body in half with the weapon successfully.

You threw the staff on the ground and sneered, "Filthy pigs!"

As you were beginning to think that maybe you had defeated the two of them, you were in for another surprise. Karaku's body that you cut in half turned into a young man with blue eyes, clothed in a blue jumpsuit and a dejected face. The upper half returned to being Karaku who was laughing upon seeing your frightened face.

The green-eyed demon sat on the floor with his legs crossed, and he said, "Aha~ You haven't figured it out by now? Allow me to tell you little minx, you see once you cut off our heads we just grow another body."

A gleeful voice spoke up, "So delightful to be divided! Looks like we didn't have to wait any longer for it."

You took a good look at the two new figures before you. The one on your left with the blue eyes looked at you with pity. Meanwhile the one on your right had a gleeful expression and he was drastically different. He didn't have the physiology of a human like his clones, rather he was part avian. He had wings, talons, and raptor-like feet.

'What the hell is going on right now?' you screamed in your head. 'I can't run out of here or else I'd die from the sun, and I can't fight four of them all at once! I'm helpless here!'

The blue-eyed open spoke softly, "You appear to be at a loss, mistress, why don't you let us help you?" He took a step forward and you took one step back. At this he stopped and he looked perplexed.

"No! All of you stay the hell away from me! I don't care how many times I gotta cut your fucking heads off!" You cried out.

Sekido grunted when his head regenerated itself and he took a long mean glare at you from behind. "This is pissing me off." He turned his head to the blue-eyed demon, "Aizetsu!" They both looked at each other and Aizetsu nodded as he knew what Sekido wanted him to do.

He approached you cautiously and places both of his hands on your shoulders. He lowers your body on the floor to kneel with him and slides his cold hands on the sides of your naked waist. The touch is gentle and lingers on your skin.

"This would be easy if you just submit to us... having to fight with you will upset me because then I'd have to hurt you." Aizetsu leans in closer to your face, his pointed nose touching yours and he whispers, "It'll pain me to cause such a captivating thing like you hurt."

The demon with gold eyes slid behind you and his claws held your wrists behind your back. Due to the hypnotizing look Aizetsu had on you, you didn't fight the hold instead you kneeled there waiting for their next move. The avian demon breathed in your scent deeply and let out a long sigh.

"You smell delicious, if you were a human I would have eaten you up by now." He says.

Aizetsu frowns, "Urogi, don't say that, you'll scare her."

Urogi laughs at this and licks his tongue against the side of your neck. "Why should I have to lie? It is true after all, if she was a human she'll be buried deep in my stomach." Like the crude bastard he was, he adds, "But I will be buried deep inside of hers soon."

The words sent a shiver down your spine and throb to your center. Suddenly you're bent forward, your face hovering over Aizetsu's groin, and Urogi's clawed hands spreading your ass cheeks apart exposing your blossoming folds to them all. The sweet pungent scent of your arousal emanates inside the small abode causing all four male demons to sigh and growl in hunger.

Aizetsu whispered, "Your words tells lies but your body says the truth, mistress," He places a hand on your head and gently guides your mouth over the rigid bulge beneath his clothes. A short, shocked gasp escapes you when you felt it. "We will take good care of you."

"Damn she smells like she's ready for us. What do you think Sekido?" Karaku stands to his feet and inches to your hunched over form, his fingers slowly untying the strings of his hakama.

Sekido grunted, "I don't care what we do with her, but we need to get this over with." He looks at the three of them, "Start however you want with her."

You interjected, "W-Wait a minute! I didn't even give my consent! I'm not an object you can't just-" Your words were cut off when a wet tongue greedily laps at your entrance. A muffled moan comes from you and your eyes squeeze shut. Your thighs clench and body pushes forward trying to get away from it.

The demon that was slurping your juices on his tongue, Urogi, pulls away from your folds and smirks, "You don't have to tell me twice." He lowers his head back to your pussy, taking a harsh suck on your clit and flicking it with his tongue.

Fuck. You were not trying to enjoy this, but the assault on your mound felt too good to try to run away from. You were helpless to these demons as they were physically stronger than you even as individuals. Your mouth kept spewing heavenly-sounding moans while Urogi feasted on your cunt.

"Mistress, won't you please help me?" Aizetsu lifted your head up by grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over, but you were still lucid.

"I... I don't..."

The blue-eyed demon pulls his pants down to his knees exposing his long, hard shaft to your eyes. It sat daintily against his abdomen; a pearl bead sitting the tip before he used his thumb to smear it. He lets out a soft sigh, a warmth spreading on his cheeks. "It's okay, I-I can show you." Aizetsu's other hand guides your mouth to the tip of his cock. "Picture it as being a dango treat. U-Use your mouth please."

His gentle words were a key to push you into doing it. You timidly nodded your head, letting out another feeble moan when Urogi spat on your clit and then dove his tongue into your haven. You parted your lips around the head of his cock and brought it into your mouth. At the feeling of a moist warmth on him, Aizetsu trembled but he didn't move away instead he leaned closer to you. His hand petting your head in encouragement. "Y-Yes... hmm... now stick out y-your tongue...ah..."

"Hey~ we didn't dumb you down, yet have we?" Karaku said and he pulls down his hakamas to his ankles. His cock was thicker than Aizetsu's and curved a little to the left in its rigid state. "You still have two more demons to pleasure remember?" He cockily stuck out his tongue, the tattooed kanji on view. "You have two hands that are free, so put them to work!"

He snatches a hold of your right hand and guides it to his lower abdomen your fingers tickling the patch of thick curly hair on his pelvis. He lowers it to the base of his shaft, using his large hand to envelop your smaller one around it. Karaku lets out a groan and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Fuck~ It's been so, so long since I've had a woman touch me like this. If your hand feels as snug as your pussy, then I guess we're in for a real treat huh?" His darkened gaze watches you blissfully.

"What happened to the brat that was giving us a hard time?" Sekido snarls as he stands on your left before lowering himself to his knees. He unties the strings of his robe, adjusting his clothing so that his angry and leaking cock stands. He jerks your vacant hand and wraps it around his cock.

Urogi stops drinking away at your essence to answer Sekido's rhetorical question. "Looks like she's lost her fighting spirit! With the way we're all using her body like a common whore she probably gave up." He licks at his lips, "Am I right or am I right you little slut?"

A talon hand slaps against your ass cheek causing you to yelp with Aizetsu's tip in your mouth. The blue-eyed creature shuddered from the vibration and looked down at you. "That feels so good, now try taking it in deeper... you can try right?" Aizetsu doesn't wait for a nod instead he slowly pushes himself in further. The tip of his dick prodding at the back of your throat and wet cavern stimulating his sensitive rod. "Hm! S-So good mistress... keep your tongue out and w-watch your t-teeth... ahh!"

Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes while your mouth was stuffed with Aizetsu's cock. Karaku began to thrust back and forth into your hand. Sekido was guiding your hand to stroke his dick at a pace that he found suitable. Urogi, the damned bastard, had returned to relentlessly eating you out. How was this all even possible? Four demons taking on one person and using their body to their own selfish greed?

Your body jerked forward when you felt Urogi's tongue circle the rim of your ass. You pulled your mouth away from Aizetsu's cock, gasping for air and weakly said, "N-No! Don't touch me there with your tongue!" You scooted yourself forward trying to get away from him.

He smirked at you, "I don't have to listen to you and we're not all going to fuck just your pretty little pussy. Some of us wants this sweet ass too."

You just sat there stupefied and Urogi took that one moment of distraction to bring you back to his face. Your hands grab for Aizetsu's top pulling him forward while your ass was being violated by his look-alike's tongue. You held the slim body of the sorrowful demon tightly, trembling in what you thought was fear but was pleasure. "A-Ah! N-Not t-there, please! Stop!" Despite your pleads he continued and your body betrayed you by dripping with essence onto the floor.

"Hey~ Her mouth is open. Say 'ah' little minx, or do I have to shove my cock in there?" Your dazed eyes look up to Karaku smirking and holding his cock in his hand. You simply whine, and he takes it as a 'yes' pushing his dick past your mouth and down your throat. "Yeah that's it. Fuck use your tongue, get it nice and sloppy. Make me feel real good will you?" He moans, eyes half-lidded while he watched you.

Urogi was about to finger your ass until he remembered he had claws; at least he was being considerate when he asked for the other two Sekido and Aizetsu to stretch you out.

"I'll do it." Sekido grunts, not giving Aizetsu a chance in being the first to finger you.

Urogi moved from behind you and Sekido took his place. "Delightful~ Make sure you make her ass lose enough for one of us to fit. Wouldn't want to break our new toy."

"Don't tell me what to do you idiot!" Sekido barked at Urogi.

The red-eyed demon spat on your asshole then inserted a finger. You squealed around Karaku's cock and this caused the "pleasure" demon to groan at the vibrations. He began to fuck your throat shallowly. Drool came out of the corners of your mouth and your hands grabbed onto the sides of Karaku's thighs. Sekido curled his finger inside of you, stroking your walls at the same time sliding it back and forth.

Aizetsu stroked his cock as he watched you getting face-fucked by Karaku. He squeezes the tip till precum leaks out and smears it over his cock. "It's making me sad having to wait like this so desperately. I want to be the first to have her, I can't hold it for any longer."

"Who died and made you the leader you coward? If anything I get to go first since it was my idea to have some fun." Karaku says.

"I object to that Karaku~ I ate her sweet little pussy so I get first hit on her!" Urogi exclaims.

Karaku retorts, "Eating her pussy doesn't give you the right to fuck her first."

"Shut the hell up you three!" Sekido finally snaps when he couldn't take their arguing over who gets to go first anymore. He stuck another finger inside of your tight hole stretching it. As his two digits were working their way deeper into you, you were shamelessly moaning around Karaku's cock. "Since you all want to fight over who gets to fuck her, let's have the bitch decide who gets to."

Sekido's hand grips you by your throat and pulls you off of his counterpart's length. A gasp comes from you when you feel the hand squeezing your neck and a warm breath ghosting next to your ear. A growl emits from the red-eyed demon before he asks, "Now... tell us... which one of us do you want to fuck you first?"

"Uh... um... I..." You were looking at them one by one. Your eyes landing on Karaku with his mischievous grin, then Aizetsu's hopeful gaze, and lastly Urogi's stare of pure unfiltered desire. You wanted for this to be gentle for you since it was your first time experiencing sexual relations as a demon. After doing some process of elimination in your head, and based on how each demon had treated you, your gaze landed on Aizetsu. "Y-You..."

Aizetsu's brows lifted at the decision you made, "Me?" When you nodded your head the demon sits himself in front of you and places his hands on your knees. "It's relieving to hear that you want me first, was it my desperation that made you choose me?"

'His desperation? No... I chose you because you look like you'll take it easy on me. Don't tell me I made the wrong choice.' You thought as you feel Sekido move from behind you so Aizetsu could lie you on your back. His slim muscled figure hovering over yours and eyes looking down into yours expectantly. Was he waiting for an answer?

The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance bringing you back to reality for a moment. "Hm! N-No it wasn't that..." you say and place your hands on his shoulders.

Aizetsu hums before sliding his tip up to your clit and sliding it up and down your nub. Your breath hitched at the touch, and your nails were digging into his skin. "You're lying to me, I can tell."

"I'm not lying to you! I'm not! I promise!" Before you can continue explaining the demon had slid his cock into your heat. The thickness of his girth spreading you open to shape around his length. You let out a loud moan and tossed your head back, trying to pull your hips away. Aizetsu saw this and grabbed your waist in a tight grip. "P-Please!"

"Ahh... y-you f-feel so good around me. So warm and wet, yet you think that I am the desperate one." He mutters, "Maybe by the time we're done," The blue-eyed demon slowly pulls himself out to the hilt then slams back inside of you. This action forcing another moan out of you. "Y-you'll be the one begging for m-more."

Your nails were clawing at his back, drawing blood that didn't seem to faze him at all. Despite you thinking this demon would be gentle with you it appeared to be false. He wasn't gentle as his hips slammed into yours sloppily and high-pitched whimpers came from him. Your legs snaked around his waist to keep him close and your folds were dripping your juices on his shaft. The sound of skin slapping and wet noises filling the shack the five of you were in.

Aizetsu looks down at where the two of you are connected and a ring of white is painted on his cock. His cheeks flush from the sight, and he slows down his thrusts to ogle at it. He places his thumb on your clit, flicking it like it was some sort of toy as he says, "You must be feeling really good right now mistress? A-Am I making you feel good? Do you like my c-cock?" He slams deep into you again. "H-Huh? Mistress? Tell me I'm making you feel good with my cock."

You whine when he gives your pussy quick and hard thrusts. You nod your head and cover your eyes with your arm, "Y-Yes! Y-Yes you're making me feel good! Ah! Keep going just like that! Ah!"

Your arm is moved away from covering your face brought down to your side by Sekido. He kneels on the floor, his knees on either side of your head and he glares down at you. "Don't hide your face from us you filthy whore. We want to see just how undone you can be." You stare up at him in a daze, your lower body being used like a cock-sleeve by Aizetsu, and it seemed like the sorrowful demon wasn't letting up.

You whine when an unfamiliar spot was repeatedly stroked by the blue-eyed demon's cock. A pathetic, needy moan escaped from your lips and your toes curl. "W-what was that?! You just- oh! F-Fuck you did it again!" You gasp.

Aizetsu's tongue stuck out from his mouth as he rutted against your body like a dog in heat. His eyebrows furrowed deeply and irises were glazed over as he chanted in a whisper, "So good, so good, feels so-so good. Ohh... ohh..." His voice was losing it's steadiness as his thrusts grew frantic. Never once did he miss hitting that unfamiliar spot inside of you. "I'm al-almost there... almost there. I'm going to cum, c-can I come inside of you?"

You were too far into the moment to hear what he had said. You nodded your head without knowing and that was all the answer he needed. He whimpers, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, o-oh! Hm! A-ah!" Aizetsu gave a few short and rapid thrusts before he stilled his hips and spilled his seed deep into your cervix. Your eyes widened when you felt a pool of warmth inside of you.

The demon pulls his softening cock out of your pussy; his cum leaking out of your abused cunt and trailing down to your puckered hole. The other two demons, Karaku and Urogi grinned widely at the sight of it. Sekido just lets out a grunt after releasing his hold on your arms.

"Well, well, well let's hope you're still tight for the both of us, little minx." Karaku says and he positions your body so that it's laying right on top of his. Yours legs are weak as they shake and your hand holds onto his shoulder for support.

"Wow~ You're not even going to let her have a break first Karaku?" Urogi teases.

The green-eyed demon stuck out his tongue to lick his lips then replies, "Why should I? She's a big strong demon just like we are. She should be able to take the pain." He lines up his tip with your pussy and pushes himself inside. He moans at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him snug. "Fuuck~ Your pussy is even better than I imagined. You feel how you're sucking me in?" You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as you bear through the stretch of Karaku's cock. "Urogi you want to take her ass so we can get this started? I'm about to explode with the way she's gripping me."

Urogi takes his cock out and strokes it. "Aha, don't mind if I do."

He spits a wad of saliva onto your puckered rim before sliding himself into you with ease. You and him both moan together when he entered inside. A drawn-out pleasured moan emitted from Urogi when he feels the snugness around his dick. You covered your mouth with your clawed hands, once again trying to smother the sounds you were making. Your legs were wobbling since you weren't holding onto anything for support.

"Move those hands away from your face. We want to hear you moan like a slut for us." Karaku says. Timidly, you uncovered your mouth and lowered your hands to your collarbones. You kept your eyes closed however and that didn't seem to please the "pleasure" demon. He grumbled, "Open your eyes and look at me."

You shake your head "no" until Urogi yanks you by your hair and your eyes open in surprise from him. "You better listen to what we say or we won't go as easy as Aizetsu did on you." You gasp and nodded your head in fear of what they could do. You look down at Karaku's smirk on his face; shuddering when he moved to sit up right his face right in between your breasts.

"Hmm..." he groans licking a stripe up on your sternum to your neck then sucking on the damp skin there. "Don't ever hide those pretty eyes away from me again, I wanna watch you crumble like sand while we ruin you."

Sekido chided, "Are you going to do anything or you just going to sit there warming your cocks?"

"We're just about to do that boss," Urogi sassed.

"Then hurry it up." He replied.

A mutter, probably a curse, was all Urogi made. The avian demon pulls his cock out half-way then slams his hips against your ass. You quickly go to cover your mouth to mute another moan, but Karaku was faster and predicted that you would do that. He snatched your wrists in his hands and grinned when you released that sluttish cry.

"That's right let us hear you." He raised his hips up and down, matching the rhythm and speed Urogi was giving you. "Let us hear those fucking... delectable sounds. Fuck! Your pussy just tightened around me when I said that. You like it when I talk about you, s-shit, like you're a slut don't you?" You shake your head, but your cunt tightens around him again. Karaku laughs and hollers, "Oh fuck! I'm getting so excited right now with you!"

"You should see, damn, her ass bouncing on my cock right now Karaku. You're taking my cock so f-fucking well!" Urogi exclaimed, he lets go of your hair and presses his mouth into your ear. His thrusts get harder, "Sweet tight little ass. I want to hear that mouth tell us what you're feeling. You're feeling good little slut? Huh?"

You whimper when Karaku sucks on your nipple while watching you lose yourself into the abyss of pleasure. You felt like your brain was turning into mush as the two demons had you bouncing on their thick cocks. "It feels so f-fucking good. The way- the way you're deep inside of me! Oh my god!" You arch your back and let out a squeak when Karaku's dick hit that unfamiliar spot from before. "T-There Karaku, right there please! O-oh! Y-Yes!"

Karaku popped his mouth away from your nipple and held you by the neck, fucking his dick up into you roughly and stimulating your sweet spot. "Shit... fucking take my cock. Take it all... just like that! Oh yes, sweet little demoness, I'm gonna spill my cum deep inside of you. Nice and swollen with my cum. You might end up pregnant with my children."

The mention of you being impregnated surprised you and your walls tightened once more. "Y-Yes, fill me up with your cum. I want it... I want it... f-fuck!" You mutter in a daze, and place your hands on the demon's shoulders. You let out a squeal when Urogi nibbled on your earlobe. "...deep inside of me. Oh my god... oh fuck... h-happening... something's happening..."

They go faster inside of each of your holes. Urogi's talons pinch into your hips causing you to bleed and Karaku's mouth latches on your nipple brutally sucking at it again. You let out a squeal, body trembling, and an orgasm spilling right out from you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You wail out, tossing your head back. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes at this point.

Urogi groans after you've came on their dicks, "Damn, I'm gonna paint the inside of your ass with my cum, whore." He huffs into your ear, then chuckles darkly, "Ah shit, you ready for it? Shit, here it comes. Here it fucking comes!" His hips repeatedly pound into your ass then stills when he's buried into the hilt stuffing you with his seed.

A gasp comes from you once you feel a warmth in your ass. "I feel it, oh my god, I can feel your cum!" You press your hand down on your lower abdomen, unknowingly causing Karaku to feel the added pressure on his cock that was sheathed inside of you.

The green-eyed demon groans and mouths wetly against your nipple. "Fuck, pull out of her Urogi, and get out of my way."

Urogi reluctantly does remove himself from you and scoots to a different position away from the two. Karaku's hands go to your hips, squeezing them tight he lifted your body up and slammed you down on his cock. It punches out moans from you when he kept repeating it over and over. Not once did he relent or showed you mercy. He was abusing your cunt and pushing you into having another orgasm. Which you unexpectedly did. Your walls pulsated on his dick and body shook as you were bounced on Karaku's length. Your eyes were heavy, tongue lolling out of your mouth and a long weak moan you made.

"Heheh~ Look at you now, it looks like we've dumbed you out already. Haha~ Fuck, fuck, I think I'm going to cum." His eyes looks down at where you're connected with him and the thick ring of white covers his shaft. Along with his groin dampen with your juices. The demon throws his head back and pulls you down on his cock while he cums deep inside of you. Karaku hisses, "Shit, shit, shit,"

You collapse forward onto him, thankfully he catches you and holds you in his arms for a moment. While the two of you are gathering your breaths, the last demon of the hour, Sekido stands with his cock still hard. Your eyes drift over to his towering figure and his raging red eyes. You swallow nervously as you recalled how he had handled you so roughly earlier. Maybe you had made the right choice in getting them to fuck you from most gentle to least gentle. However a part of you felt you were going to regret it by how the sour expression on Sekido's face looked when he made eye contact with you.

You didn't say a word as you shakily slid the demon's cock out from you and crawled towards Sekido. He stood there planted to the floor waiting for your next move. They must have really made you dumb because you grabbed his cock and attempted to put it in your mouth. He growled at that. Sekido stops you by placing his hand on your forehead and pushing you away from his dick.

"You stupid whore, did I give you permission to suck my cock?"

You whimpered at his harsh tone. You thought that he would have enjoyed it since you didn't do it for him. Also you thought it would be a way of requesting for him to be easy with you.

Sekido's eyes narrowed at you, "What? Now you can't speak? I asked you a question you idiot!" You flinched when his hand snagged your hair and tilted your head back. "Answer my question. Did I... give you permission... to suck, my, cock?"

You shook your head and replied with a timid, "N-No."

"No, what?"

"No, Sekido-"

Slap!

Your head was turned to the side after the sudden struck to your cheek. Your eyes widen in shock, and you locked eyes with the rageful demon. Sekido snarls, "I'm not like these other fools and give someone as unworthy, disgusting, and pitiful as you a right to even say my name. You better address me as Lord Sekido from now on you filthy wench."

A nod was your response, before you quickly said, "Yes Lord Sekido."

He grunted with a finality then released your hair. "Look away from me and get on your hands and knees."

You obeyed his demand and did what he instructed you to. Sekido grabs the back of your head with one hand and pushes your face into the wooden floor. The other hand clutches both your wrists and hold them behind your back. You weren't even made aware of when he was going to put his cock inside of you.

"This is what you were made for. Just to be a cock-sleeve to four demons. You look filthy right now. Cum from different men dripping out of your used holes like a whore. I shouldn't even stick my cock inside of you, fucking slut." You let out a whine, but he silenced it with more pressure onto your head. "Shut the hell up! Earlier you were fighting against us and said vile things to us. Now you want for the one that you fear the most to treat you delicately and show you mercy?"

He leaned down to press his mouth to your ear. "Let me tell you one thing, Y/N." Your body jolted forward when he sheathed himself, without warning, into your pussy and your walls tightening around his length. Sekido grunted at the warmth and wetness you were exuding. "You're the one who's pathetic," He slams his cock against your sweet spot. "You're the one who's unworthy," He pulls himself out fully, "And you're the one who's useless."

Clap!

A squeak came from you when Sekido slams his cock fully deep into you again. Your body writhed while the demon was treating you like what he said you were: a cock-sleeve. He was pounding into your core with no clemency. He was fucking you like he hated every atom of your existence. A series of moans left your mouth with little to no regret of how you sounded. You were enjoying this, Sekido saw this, and it was pissing him off.

"Slut! Fucking slut!" He growls. His hand releases the grip on your hair to slap your ass. Afterwards he holds you by the front of your neck and squeezes it tight to where you can't breathe. Your pussy clenches around his dick and you cum again for the third, fourth (?) time that day.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you whine out, "Yes... y-yes, yes, yes! Lord Sekido! Hmm! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Your words were taunting him, how dare you speak like that? He was trying to teach you a lesson but you were somehow putting the odds of this in your favor. "Oh! Lord Sekido!"

The tip of his cock was jabbing at your cervix, making you whine and meet his rapid thrusts with your hips. Your skins slapping at an unsteady and wild rhythm. His claws dug into your neck causing you to bleed. Sekido was wanting for you to hate this as much as he hated you behaving like a harlot for them. Unfortunate for him you weren't keen on giving him the satisfaction. Especially when you cry out, "Cum inside of me, Lord Sekido! Cum inside!"

"No!" He barks out then slams his dick into you harder. His nails drag across your neck more blood gushing onto the floor in a puddle. "I, ha, won't give you that, ha, you slut." He panted.

He could feel himself getting closer to his end. Sekido leans over your shoulder blade his fangs grazing along your skin. The temptation of embedding his teeth into your naked and unmarked skin eats at him. He couldn't just ignore it. Sekido sinks his fangs into your shoulder meanwhile growling like an animal when he does so. You scream out in pleasure upon the sudden bite and rut closer to him.

Abruptly the demon male pulls himself out from your thoroughly abused cunt and strokes his cock. Sekido hisses when he shoots his cum all over your pussy and on the floor. Your body still positioned on your knees, face on the wooden floor, and limp arms at your sides. He pants after he's released himself, sitting on the floor and admiring the work he just put into you. You were a mess. Your legs were twitching. Their cum was dripping out of your pussy. You had scratches, some bite marks, and a few bruises on you.

But damn it, did you still look pretty.

With your body exhausted from the rounds of sex you've just endured you shut your eyes and fell into a deep slumber. You woke up hours later to find out it was the dead of night, then you remembered that you needed to infiltrate the swordsmith village with Hantengu. You go to stand to your feet and you rush outside the shack till you recalled the events that happened during the day. You had sex with four of Hantengu's counterparts.

"Oh my god!" You lament then enter back into the shack. You then realized you were fully clothed and there seemed to be no sort of injuries on you. Well of course there wouldn't be any you were a demon after all. As you look around in the shack they weren't there. The demons were gone. The only thing that proved what happened to you was a rolled up scroll on a makeshift table.

You squinted your eyes as you tried to read the illegible handwriting and crossed out words.

[To: Y/N wench pretty girl Y/N

By the time you wake your pathetic ass up we will have left to go hunt for the surdsmitt vullige swordsmith village. Remember your mission to distract the mist hashira and love hashira while we kill the kid with the hanafuda earrings. After we're done killing the little brat we'll come back to you too We will meet you at the rendezvous point if everything goes according to plan. It won't go according to plan It will go according to plan This should go smoothly.

From: Aizetsu Urogi Karaku HANTENGU

from: aizetsu]

You let out a sigh, "I hope we all make it out alive you idiots. And if we don't well," You look down at the remnants of cum still dripping from your body with a fond smile. "I won't forget you."

notes: omg this was the longest smut i've ever wrote and it took me weeks to finish but it is here! lmk what you think of it!

© demiesworld

[donnapalude]

i understand the discomfort around it, but the idea of madeleine being attracted to claudia both because of her apparent youth and developed intellect, apart from textually supported, feels thematically much fuller to me than either isolated alternative and, in a fictional setting, far from antithetic to the construction of a romantic fantasy.

claudia is not a neatly compartimentalised adult with a physical condition. despite similarities, to reduce her experience to easily parsable human categorisations does not capture the full horror and potential of her existence. she is a child-adult hybrid monster, twice parentless through death and abuse and left stranded without true companions or guidance. she has decades of experience, but she is as small as a child and presumably stuck with puberty's imbalances and brain reactivity. her situation serves as a partial reference to the arrested development caused by trauma, but it exceeds the metaphor by causing material impediments that facilitate people around her in removing physical and emotional agency from her. she is denied the complete abandon of daughterhood, burdened with the responsibilities of a partner, and never quite recognised for either. the removal of the more overt incestual undertones between her and her parents, does not erase the covert ones. she may not want them to fuck her exactly, but they are the only two people in the world for her and there is true pain in being placed close enough to witness their union, but never enough to be an equal part to it. as there is true pain in the knowledge that she was created for them, to save louis and their marriage, but she can never quite be all that they need. her desire to find an external companion stems as much from the suffering generated from this inherent failure and exclusion, as from an abstract wish not to be infantilised. moreover, infantilisation, for her, is closely related to the suffering of failure and exclusion. she is supposed to be everything for them, but this translates to a gallery of roles rarely donned by her choice, more than a consistent merging. the disavowal of childhood towards sisterhood is not (only) an uplifting impetus of empowerment. it's a stoic recognition of parental disappointment and an attempt to recover louis's love in a way she hopes he'll be able to give and she receive more stably. it's a boundary and, as such, it's also spiteful. despite louis's loving attempts and lestat's mild objections, this is not an ideal solution for anyone. she was created to be child and sister and partner all together. to be just small pieces of this, and so often the worst ones at that, chafes. by denying them access to a part of her, she regains control and twists the knife back (though it still cuts both ways).

it's in this context that the show places madeleine's love as the narrative fulfillment of all of claudia's fantasies. with a wholly negative value assigned to her childhood and youth, the achievement or failure of those fantasies would hinge on whether madeleine's love is read as contingent on honoring claudia's adult mind or coveting her adolescent body. but this binary reading reflects neither claudia's nor madeleine's story.

madeleine holds a fixation for youth that is not really dependent on the thrill of unilaterally lording power over it. her story about fucking a young invading soldier and her attraction for claudia getting fully expressed in light of vampirism, imply a much subtler connection between youth and power and death in madeleine's figurative cosmology. as an unstoppable definitive force, death has something of the sublime for her, inspiring both awe and terror in equal measure. in the romantic tradition, which bleeds into the gothic, the irrational state created by fear is not madness, but clarity of feeling divorced from the confines of reason. and once the barriers are down, madeleine seems to glimpse one truth: if death steals all life, it must be, by now, full of it to bursting. "he was alive", she says, when recalling what made her encounter with the nazi soldier so essential to her survival: "i know it sounds like a joke, but when there's death all around...". she calls him a "frightened boy", cradled to her chest. and to claudia, later, she asks "what's it like to drink blood? is it like drinking life itself?". claudia is much more pragmatic: "it's not an answer to life's mystery. it's food." but for madeleine it holds another significance, it is the answer to life's mistery. to survive one must steal life from death. youth, as a source of life, found in someone holding death in their power, is a direct tap into the vein, even before literal veins come into play. yet she would not like to drain it, hers is not a destructive design. she longs to nurture that life and let it flow freely and bask in its glow. forever if possible. this is her love for claudia. a feedback loop where she nurses the child and draws from the monster, drinks from her girlhood, to return belonging and wisdom. in the flow, a true joining.

this does not accurately reflect how people attracted to pubescent girls act and reason in real life. the preying on innocence and inexperience does not normally get offset by interest and care for genuine independence. the fact that claudia is not an actual child and is initially the only vampire in the relationship eliminates issues of consent and elides the power imbalance, so that we are left with the possibility that madeleine can nurture claudia's childishness, enjoy the role of emotional protection and guidance she derives from it, as well as feel intense attraction towards the body that holds these signifiers, while at the same time affording her the shared authority and admiration of a true adult relationship. as anticipated, it's a fantasy. it's claudia's fantasy, but also a human fantasy. and it's a cloying one, in its sweetness. the pain claudia holds comes not from being forcibly treated as a child, but from the imposition to live both adulthood and childhood together (not only through her body, but also through familial enmeshment) without being able to experience either in full, as one side of the balance naturally undermines the other. she is presented the illusion of a blissful coalescence of their offerings and is always left wanting. as a child she should be cherished and protected, as an adult she should be respected and powerful. she often finds herself powerless and undefended, needing to choose which wound to tend. and whatever the choice, it can never fill her parents' needs in full measure. with madeleine she can let go and be all, and joyfully. she is daughter and sister and lover and partner and teacher and maker. she can even transcend singularity to fill out a family and a coven. it's suffocating and labyrinthine and recourseless, but it's ultimately about the difference between being deprived of other options and being freed of the need to ever search for them. the wound madeleine heals, the fantasy she fullfills, live in claudia in a heightened state, but fundamentally draw from an incredibly common human want. to be loved in full. to be loved in all the past, present, and future iterations of ourselves, completely and equally. without sacrifice, without maiming, without choosing. it's the illusion given by the love of any parent that, even in the best of families, sooner or later is broken. we learn to parcel our love and to parcel ourselves for people to love different morsels. but claudia can stay whole. for madeleine, at the end, she really is everything.

[thewisecheerio]

Elden Ring, Rejection of Authority, and Transcendentalism

Elden Ring rejects authority as a final solution to the ills of the world, and then offers a message of transcendental hope that such lowly creatures as ourselves might be able to effect real change.

Elden Ring's world is locked into a seemingly endless cycle of violence. No one—not the humanoids, nor the many demigods and gods—has been able to come up with a solution that would establish an everlasting peace.

Count Ymir points out one of the roots of the cycle, which repeats in character after character. He tells us that the Golden Order's system as a whole is rooted in evil, unhinged from the start. Marika and the Fingers—the "mothers" of the system—birthed it malformed from the very beginning:

I fear that you have borne witness to the whole of it. The Conceits - the hypocrisy - of the world built upon the Erdtree. The follies of men. Their bitter suffering. Is there no hope for redemption? The answer, sadly, is clear. There never was any hope. They were each of them defective. Unhinged, from the start. Marika herself. And the fingers that guided her. And this is what troubles me. No matter our efforts if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse.

Ymir also laments a similar situation with his son, in which he takes the blame for his son's malformation:

Forgive me, I failed to birth you whole, I failed to be your mother. For now, my dear, sleep soundly.

In both cases, we see him blaming the parent for the malformation of their children.

Ymir says separately that without a "true mother", how are we to flourish?

We all need a mother, do we not? A new mother, a true mother, who will not give birth to further malady.

So using these dialogue together, we can see that he believes that children can only flourish with good guidance from a mother figure, and that conversely children (and systems) birthed of a rotten mother will only continue to do harm when their creators set them up to be harmful from the start.

We see the same theme repeat with Metyr, daughter of the Greater Will. She is abandoned and left without its guidance, according to the Staff of the Great Beyond:

The Mother received signs from the Greater Will from the beyond of the microcosm. Despite being broken and abandoned, she kept waiting for another message to come.

We know that 1) the Fingers she birthed were rotten from the start (from the first block quote) and 2) Ymir's supposes that all of us are left floundering without a parent's guidance. We can then surmise that Metyr waiting on guidance from the Greater Will and never receiving it—while simultaneously refusing to change course and seek guidance within herself or another source—led to this malformation of her children. She kept doing the same thing she'd been doing since last hearing from the Greater Will, and that refusal to change course in the absence of guidance was her downfall.

We see this same cycle of abandonment and refusal to change course repeat with Messmer. An NPC spirit's dialogue begs Marika to come collect her abandoned child, presumably Messmer, to put an end to the violence he is doing—as if his violence might be ended by intervention from an authority he respects. But originally set on his genocidal course by his mother (see his armor set clothing tags), Messmer refuses to change course even after being abandoned, as he tells us:

My purpose standeth unchanged

and then proceeds to beat the ever-loving daylight out of us so that he can go back to spearing Hornsent. It's important to ask, "Why? Why must your purpose stand unchanged?" After all, he could simply end the genocide himself, disbanding the military forces that so respect him. But it's his refusal to do anything but act on the last command he received from his preferred authority figure—his mother—that ensures that his cycle of violence will continue.

So if all of the authority figures are truly rotten in Elden Ring, and those who rely on them end up making grave and violent mistakes, where then are we to turn?

The Mending Rune of Perfect Order might give us a clue:

A rune of transcendental ideology which will attempt to perfect the Golden Order. The current imperfection of the Golden Order, or instability of ideology, can be blamed upon the fickleness of the gods no better than men. That is the fly in the ointment.

The Rune reminds us not to worship gods—or any authority figures—for they are just as fallible as the men who blindly follow them. It explicitly warns us against relying solely on guidance from authority to decide on what we think the right course is.

And so if we cannot rely on authority, where then do we turn?

I think the gameplay gives us two answers. After all, the only ones who can make actual change within the game world are 1) ourselves, and 2) our community, should we choose to summon other players for help. So instead of worshipping any authority figure, hoping that they will simply tell us what to do, we are forced to make decisions with our own and our community's input alone.

Elden Ring challenges you to think critically about what you and your community think is truly right and effective in any given situation. In this way, Elden Ring gives us a thoroughly transcendental message of hope, that such lowly creatures as ourselves and our community might remake the world to be better.

[champawattigress]

I have personally witnessed so many instances of pet owners forcing beloved animals to continue living far beyond the point of their quality of life hitting zero that the whole "Deux Face" situation was absolutely nothing new to me, except for the wave of genuine nausea I experienced at the social media reaction to her existence.

I can honestly say that I feel a palpable sense of relief, knowing that that calf is no longer being forced to live in that condition, and there's no amount of "well, she had vet care!" or "it doesn't seem like she's in pain!" that would have mollified me. I have been in hundreds of QoL consults with clients who parrot the exact same sentiments while their animal lies, completely recumbent and unresponsive, on the examination table. It's the exact same thing, except compounded by the ghoulish addition of the calf's value as a sideshow act.

Any normal presenting newborn calf that failed to thrive as she did would have been euthanized on welfare grounds long before the 26 day mark. A dairy calf is literally supposed to be able to walk away from its birthing site, a calf whose only developmental milestone was that it "can kinda lift its head" is a calf that has something inherently wrong with it. If Deux Face wasn't deformed in a way that makes well-meaning assholes spout that stupid poem, then she probably would have been put out of her misery ages ago. I keep thinking of the grotesque congenital deformities that domestic cattle can present with, twisted spines and fused joints and extreme hydrocephalus and cleft palates, and how, if Deux Face had presented with QoL reducing examples of any of those conditions, people wouldn't have even batted an eye at her euthanasia. She was literally forced to keep on living, just so people could keep "consuming" her continued existence. She was forced to live, not because it was to her benefit, but for the benefit of the farm, who romanticised and profited from her, and the benefit of idiots who think a goddamn newborn calf should be a source of inspiration in their own lives.

The people on this site who mourned that we didn't get to gawk at this animal a little longer disgust me. The only difference between you and the woman who keeps her 19 year old constant DKA, cushingoid, and severely arthritic Shih Tzu alive is that she, at least, has the excuse that this is an animal she has loved and cared for for decades. She's blinded by love, and needs to be counselled towards the realisation that the dog's existence is now more for her benefit than his. You're just upset that there are no more juicy pics of a recumbent, half-dead calf that you can caption with "TWice aS MaNY STArs As UsuaL!!!!!" in goofy ass fonts.

The only sad thing about Deux Face's death is that it took so long. Fight me on it, I don't care. Your gross parasocial relationship with a dying farm animal you've never met was not worth that animal's enforced suffering.

[searenbound]

This is a brothers Grimm inspired retelling of sleeping beauty and my first proper somno and noncon piece so please be gentle with me and give me some constructive feedback so I can improve!.

Warnings: somnophilia, noncon, afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal penetration described, oral(reader receiving), delusional/yandere!Todoroki, fantasy au, I feel like it's open-ended but could be left as a standalone one shot

Pairing: prince!Shouto Todoroki x sleeping beauty!reader

Our story begins with a prince who’s grown restless under his father’s strict control.

The prince known as Shouto went on many trips, all of which were under secrecy to avoid the wrath of the mad king Enji. For if he was discovered by his father, he’d surely be severely punished.

Maybe with a beating, or perhaps isolation, or worse his siblings would suffer for his actions.

He couldn’t risk the consequences, that’s what he told himself when had discovered an old castle in ruins.

‘You’ll be late’ he tells him as he examines the thick overgrowth of thorny vines that wrap around the aged and crumbling walls.

‘You need to return’ he reminds himself, cutting through overgrowth and forcing his way into the old palace, ignoring his better judgment in favor of his curiosity.

If he were truly honest, he was hoping to find whatever valuables were left behind so he could keep on the run and never return home. So he may dare to be selfish and not worry about anyone else’s ill fate, if he were honest that is.

Clearly whoever had owned this castle was long gone, old rotting furniture and aged paintings that were caked in thick grime and dirt.

He almost turned back, nothing here could possibly be of worth right? And yet, on some sort of fateful divine intervention, he felt compelled to look around a little longer.

For what, he did not know, he certainly could not have even imagined he would discover the perfectly preserved body of a beautiful young maiden.

She appeared roughly his age when she was put to rest, he thinks it such a shame that she must have passed young.

He steps closer to observe her better, shocked to witness her chest rising and falling. He presses a hand against her soft face, noting the warmth and softness of her skin.

He knows it’s insane, her clothes were dusty and the room around them was clearly aged decades, perhaps centuries, but she is most assuredly alive just asleep.

Certainly, this must be a curse and undoubtedly one he was destined to break. Why else would he be so compelled to go searching for her?

But how?

If the stories of witches and their evil deeds and tricks were to be believed, then a kiss should do. So with this in mind, he leaned down to capture her lips, certain that the spark he felt was a sign from the heavens.

Soon his princesses would awaken and she would be so greatly impressed and grateful that she would marry him without question.

He waits what feels like one, two, three, four whole minutes, and watches in confused frustration when she remains peacefully asleep.

‘Then a kiss is not enough’ he comes to realize ‘I need to do more, I have to show her she was meant to be my wife’. It made perfect sense to him, there was no need to question himself or his motives behind this because why else would a simple kiss not work?

Clearly, he needed to consummate this divine union.

He shuddered at the thought, the reality of the situation hitting him suddenly and making him unsure if this was all a delusion of grandeur.

Maybe he should reevaluate and deal with the creeping sense of disgust in himself, or maybe this deep and sudden desire for her was truly divine?

But this was unquestionably a sinful crime in any other circumstance, something a valiant and righteous prince like himself should never allow themself to indulge in.

But his urge to move forward must be a sign, it’s brought him this far, and he wouldn’t even be here if he had ignored it.

If he did follow his compulsion, the consequences would be well worth the actions right? Just a husband committing to his wife, that’s what this was.

It isn’t wrong for him to lay his hands on her sleeping body, positioning her to aid him in removing her old clothes, and laid his hot lips on the warm flush that was revealed.

Allowing himself to travel every exposed inch until he had her sex in close sight. He laved his tongue over it in curiosity. Humming in approval when he found her to secrete the sweetest nectar he had ever had the pleasure of tasting.

He lapped away at her as if he would never be allowed to again, no, as if he had never been fed. As if he had been starving for longer than he could remember and this would be the only meal he would have in who knew how long.

He found himself greedily pressing his fingers into her little hole, desperately trying to drag out more of her essence. Long slender fingers moving back and forth, dragging against her inner walls and unknowingly inching a dam of sorts closer and closer to snapping.

It almost startled him when she squeaked out a pleasant-sounding moan, practically pouring her heavenly nectar like a fountain for him. Her sex tightening and convulsing around his fingers, he finds himself enraptured by her involuntary response to him; assured he was right to think that this was the correct action.

He resettled himself between her legs so his sex was in line with her sopping wet warmth quickly. He would take his time to know her body properly later but for now, he would focus on introducing his body to her own.

He takes a breath, takes himself in hand, and rests against her entrance. Pausing to steel his nerves before pushing into her with a single thrust. Savoring how her wet warmth parted around him and held so tightly.

‘This couldn’t be wrong when it felt so heavenly’ he thinks, throwing his head back.

He hears a murmur of discomfort from her, he figures he must be her first lover. Good. This doubtlessly meant that the divines had been saving her for him.

She was meant for this, meant to be his love, to be the vessel for his seed.

So, there was no need to hold back on her until she’d taken it all in her womb, right?

He silences her involuntary whines with hot wanton kisses, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth and explore every bit of it. Uncaring of the lack of response, he has plenty of time to know what her kiss truly felt like once she awakens.

He lets himself indulge in her. Dragging his finger along the little pearl of pleasure that made her leak more of her essence. His hips slapped against her at a rough and quick pace, chasing a pleasure that was well worth the effort.

He wondered, would she accept loving this rough when she did wake? Would she want the way he was being so forceful or would she rather him be gentle and tender? He supposed he could be gentle.

It did sound rather nice, but he would honestly prefer this. He thinks maybe she would too, her sex twitched and spasmed so desperately around him in response to his actions. Almost as if to wring out his love, it’s hard to imagine she wasn’t or wouldn’t enjoy this.

He wondered if she would call his name loudly, he could imagine it clearly based on the sounds she was already making.

‘S-Shou! Oh, Shouto! Please!’ she’d cry out, on the verge of spilling over again and pulling him with her, accepting every drop of his white-hot love inside her.

He barely catches himself from clasping on top of her, he can feel himself starting to stir again inside of her. How must this look to her?

“W-who are you?! W-what are you do—!”.

He cuts her off with a kiss, frowning when she jerks her face away. Didn’t she understand that he was her husband now?!

“Your husband,” he says it calmly, almost coldly as his hips pick up speed again. It would seem he’d have to teach her this new role as his wife.

And this is where we leave, with a king and his queen. One will live happily ever after, the other has no option but to be “happy” with her new life.

Tag list: @when-you-are-just-done @justabratsworld @kkatsukiswife

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere spin-offs (wip)

Introducing the Hero

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(Fem! Reader)

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Synopsis: Featuring the Yandere Hero who happened to coincidentally save you from a potential robbery and became infatuated with you once he discovered that you knew of his true nature.

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Adonis was a hero known by the public as the chivalrous Sunset Knight who protected the people and also kept the evildoers in line with his immense power. But that couldn’t be any further from the truth, as the Sunset Knight was nothing but a sadistic murderer pretending to be an enforcer of justice.

He would frequently use excessive amounts of force when apprehending criminals no matter if the crime being committed was petty or severe all his victims would equally suffer underneath the brutality of his hands that always itches to inflict pain. Almost like a coping mechanism to keep his innermost darkest desires for destruction at bay.

One day when Adonis was off duty in his civilian persona dressed casual with his platinum blonde wavy hair that was covering his eyes. As he happened to walk by and witness a woman getting assaulted by some ruffians looking for a quick buck. He was tempted to ignore the situation entirely as it didn’t concern him one bit. But who was he to turn down a chance to let off some steam by beating some stupid idiots half to death without any consequences since it’ll fall under the category of self defense.

Trying to conceal the bloodlust leaking from his pores he made an effort to appear like the usual outstanding smararian who risked his safety to protect a typical damsel in distress. Before administering some good hands on “disciplinary action” on the poor unfortunate souls who happened to try and mug you.

Suddenly the sound of a picture being taken made him snap out of his tunnel vision haze in a brief moment of shock. And his golden slited pupils roamed the area spotting you with a camera that was pointed at him while he was covered in splotches of the dirty blood of the offenders. But before he could say a single word he saw you vanish like a thief in the night.

This was the first time that Adonis was genuinely at a lost of what to do. Sure he could’ve killed her but that would’ve been too suspicious should a certain detective happen to connect the dots.

Even though he had been spotted indulging in his destructive impluses he was in his civilian persona. So he pondered what exactly that woman was trying to accomplish by taking a picture of a mere stranger who had happened to step in for her when she was in danger.

Until it clicked within his head that somehow she knew who he really was. As her movements were too fluid to be recognized as an mere amateur taking pictures for shits and giggles. Which must mean that the woman he saved had been keeping an eye on his actions for a long period of time.

‘She knows…’

He thought to himself his bloodied hands covering the bottom half of his face in surprise and a certain degree of respect for the boldness this woman he encountered seemed to possess.

‘She knows how I really am and yet she still chooses to stick close to me?’

He couldn’t help but let out a full blown fit of mad laughter at his discovery.

“What a farce haha! I can’t tell if she’s stupid or just doesn’t have a shred of self preservation”

He cackled, before taking a moment to calm his mind wiping off the flecks off blood of his handsome face with their arm sleeve the hero made himself look presentable.

The hero was determined to have fun with his new recent obsession…You

————

The Sunset Knight was patrolling the streets wearing his signature knight helmet while the rest of his body was adorned in flexible loose clothing. Leaping from roof to roof he happens to spot a supervillain mutant terrorizing the citizens demanding them to give him back his brethren or else he’d kill them all.

A pretty bland demand as per usual done by petty villains so without breaking a sweat Adonis drop kicked the octopus mutant who was holding multiple hostages within their tentacles one of which happened to be a certain woman that he had been actively searching for ever since their first encounter.

He couldn’t believe his luck as he disregarded all the other hostages that would’ve all probably fell to their potential deaths if not thanks to the minor heros who appeared on the scene right after he knocked out the criminal as the only one he cared about was you.

The Hero swiftly caught you within his arms and couldn’t help the deranged grin that spreader across his face as he finally had the object of his curiosity trapped wriggling defiantly against him in his arms. Which indicated that his hunches were correct, licking his lips like a predator as he looked down at you from behind his helmet.

He couldn’t help but get excited.

Oh how he couldn’t wait to get you home.

[iamnmbr3]

When Harry witnesses Draco being forced to torture Rowle, he is extremely upset. Much more so than he typically is about these visions. There are a lot of very drarry implications. Let's break it down.

"Malfoy’s gaunt, petrified face seemed branded on the inside of his eyes. Harry felt sickened by what he had seen, by the use to which Draco was now being put by Voldemort.”

Notable points from this passage:

1) Harry understands Draco so well that he immediately takes for granted that he doesn't want to be using the Cruciatus curse. It never even crosses his mind to take this as evidence that Draco is now a willing torturer who enjoys cruelty or that he deserves to be in this situation for having chosen the wrong side and for his role in Dumbledore's death.

Nor does Harry think Draco is just scared and upset because he's afraid Voldemort might lash out at him too - which is what Harry would think if he saw any other Death Eater acting afraid around Voldemort. He clearly sees that Draco is horrified by the acts he is being forced to commit. And he also completely accepts that it is Voldemort forcing Draco to commit these acts, thus absolving Draco of responsibility.

2) Harry is DEEPLY upset by seeing Draco in this position. More upset than he ever is about seeing any other Death Eater being terrorized or hurt by Voldemort (Harry doesn't even spare one thought for Rowle for example!) Not only that. He's also more upset than he is about seeing Ollivander tortured. Or about seeing Voldemort murder a woman and her children later on while searching for information about Gregorovitch. He finds those visions alarming but he shakes them off pretty quickly.

The only comparable strong reactions are how he responds to his visions of Arthur Weasley and Sirius in book 5 - i.e. visions of people he knows and cares about in danger and suffering. And it's not even the scene as a whole that upsets him. It's specifically Draco - whose frightened face seems "branded" on the inside of Harry's eyes. Harry can't get the vision out of his head, feels sickened, and fights to keep his voice casual afterward. Even though Draco wasn't even actively being hurt.

So canonically Draco matters to Harry in a way that almost all other people don't. It's not generic nobility that gives Harry sympathy even for an enemy - because he doesn't feel this way about other Death Eaters. And it's not general pity that Harry would feel for any innocent hurt by Voldemort - because he doesn't feel that way about victims like Ollivander or the children Voldemort killed. It's the type of reaction Harry ONLY has to people he deeply cares about suffering or being in danger. Harry may not think of it that way on an intellectual level. But his heart knows it even if his brain doesn't. He cares about Draco Malfoy. A lot. He cares about him more than he cares about almost anyone else.

3) Also notable. Harry starts out referring to him as Malfoy but then switches to thinking of him as Draco as he starts worrying about him. (Yes. The drarry trope of Harry switching from "Malfoy" to "Draco" literally happens. IN CANON.) And he keeps thinking of him as Draco after that point. The next time Draco is referred to is during the whole sequence where the Golden Trio are prisoners at the Manor. Harry refers to Lucius by his full name multiple times, but consistently refers to Draco as "Draco" rather than "Malfoy" in his internal narration.

4) (Also the fact that Draco's face is described as "gaunt" hits me right in the feels. It seems that he's in worse shape even than he was when Harry last saw him at the end of 6th year. Sad but not surprising given the guilt that is probably eating at him over his role in Dumbledore's death, what he is now being forced to do as a Death Eater, and the very tangible dangers and suffering that come with being out of favor with Voldemort while having him in your house.)

Tldr: I don't need my ships to be canon but drarry is. jkr who? ;)

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Katara would’ve been such a good diplomat (it’s canon)

everyone rightfully hates on the ATLA comics because the politics are baffling and the characterization is even more so…but if there’s one thing we can take away from the dumpster fire that is The Promise, it’s that Katara was BORN to be a diplomat and an international force for peace, okay? Especially since her besties, the Avatar and the Fire Lord, aren’t actually very good at this.

If you haven’t read The Promise, the Wikipedia summary is pretty good. The TL;DR is that Zuko and Kuei agree that the Fire Nation colonies need to be returned to the Earth Kingdom. The colony of Yu Dao is not happy about this because the people of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom have been mixing together (under inequitable conditions) for more than a hundred years and “just kick out the Fire Nation” is not as straightforward as it seems, since there are blended families now. Zuko refuses to kick out the Fire Nation people from Yu Dao, Kuei wants to play hardball, and they almost launch another war. Oh and there’s a weird plot about Aang debating whether to put Zuko down like a rabid dog

For all that the Wiki page does a good job of summarizing the events, it forgets some key facts: 

It’s Katara who first starts thinking about new solutions after witnessing the situation on the ground, and then comes up with the idea that Zuko and Kuei should meet and talk about the colonies:

It’s Katara who tells Kuei that Zuko has legitimate concerns (without saying that Zuko is right), when Aang tries to hedge and sugarcoat the truth: 

And it’s Katara who says to Kuei, wait, what the hell do you mean that you have no idea what your people want, that Yu Dao is just a dot on the map for you? We’re getting you out of this stupid blimp and you’re gonna talk to people before you make a decision that affects their lives, you coward

To recap, Katara demonstrates some pretty freaking key political skills, like: 

finding out what people want before making a decision for them 

seeing people as people first and foremost, not as fire nation or earth kingdom 

encouraging her loved ones, the Avatar and the Fire Lord, to resolve a conflict by beginning negotiations instead of brawling like a couple of drunks at a bar / kids on the playground (both analogies fit btw, 13-17 is a weird combination of ages)  

realistically reporting tricky disagreements without sweeping them under the rug

kidnapping a king to the middle of a battlefield to give him a reality check about listening to the people he’s trying to rule

Anyway, Katara is hyper competent at both war AND peace! We see this in the show, with her compassion for the prisoners of the Earth Kingdom (by inciting a prison riot) and the suffering people of the Fire Nation (by committing ecoterrorism), only now that compassion is backed up not only by her fighting prowess and speeches about hope, but actual ability to manipulate the levers of power. 

And have I mentioned that she has the ears of both the Avatar and the Fire Lord and her dad is Chief of the Southern Water Tribe? Even if Katara didn’t get a diplomat position based on her skills, or her status as a war hero, she could nepo baby her way in. The fact that she does not pick up a career in international diplomacy is a crime & a colossal oversight from the creators. At minimum you know Katara would’ve established Healers Without Borders or something. She deserves to be yelling at people at ATLA UN and then drafting world-changing resolutions. 

And as a bonus, Katara demonstrates her gift for diplomacy by not smacking Zuko up the head for attempting to legitimize colonization through the argument of economic progress…

…and by not smacking Aang up the head for seriously considering anti-miscegenation as a viable political solution: 

This patience is a new development because show!Katara did not have this in her, but maybe this is what growing up is all about and not just yet another strike on the “comics are wildly OOC” tally

TL;DR: ATLA boys lost their brain cells post-canon. All hail Katara, Sugar Queen of international diplomacy. 

[mahoushojo-chan]

Astarion x Tav || sickfic

can you keep me close? (can you love me most?)

synopsis: her vision is foggy, but she's fairly certain she can discern an angelic figure by her bedside, radiating a brilliant white or perhaps a gentle golden hue, accentuated by the candlelight in the dim room. then, the soothing radiance recedes slightly, and the angel utters, "you're an idiot," with a casual air, the words tinged with a devilish tone.

an excerpt of 'cause my love (is mine, all mine)

word count: 1435

pairing: astarion/tav

other tags: f!reader, bard!tav, half-elf!tav, hurt/comfort, sickfic, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, friends to lovers, the usual at this point, song inspo: someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic

ao3: here

concept: sickfic!!

Tav isn’t really sure what’s happening.

Actually, the whole past twelve hours have been a little blurry—memories and movements kept blending themselves in a non-cohesive way, she kept forcing her limbs to move but they would trail sluggishly behind, and she isn’t sure where she is right now.

When she feels something cool on her forehead, she finally startles.

Her vision is foggy, but she's fairly certain she can discern an angelic figure by her bedside, radiating a brilliant white or perhaps a gentle golden hue, accentuated by the candlelight in the dim room. Then, the soothing radiance recedes slightly, and the angel utters, "You're an idiot," with a casual air, the words tinged with a devilish tone.

Ah, naturally. She had never expected to receive her very own angel. It seemed more likely that the gods would send an eerie, skeleton-like old codger, draped in tattered robes, who would speak in cryptic riddles to assist her, or a dream guardian that, in reality, turned out to be a peculiar, haughty tentacled creature with aspirations of dominating all other races in the world with mind-controlling parasites.

She squints and blinks repeatedly until Astarion comes into sharper focus. He's seated in a chair, legs crossed, arms folded, and appears quite displeased. She vaguely recollects a caregiver mentioning bringing some medicine, and fervently hopes that her current company isn't the result of that promise. After all, her companion is one of the last individuals she wishes to see right now.

The situation is rather embarrassing. She's cocooned in blankets that are overly warm, her hair is in disarray, she can't quite manage to open her eyes completely, and her muscles are protesting, urging her to remain at rest. She's determined not to let Astarion witness her in this state or feel sorry for her.

Her first instinct is to apologize, especially under his scrutinizing gaze. Instead, she insists, “I’m dying. Can’t you be a little nicer?”

“Oh, goodness me. Perhaps I’ll just leave you to suffer this horrible affliction alone,” he offers, hand on his chest in mock offense as he gets up, pretending to leave.

“Good. You don’t need to take care of me—”

She reaches out for her hat and makes an attempt to rise, but Astarion places his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her back onto the bed. His touch, once more, carries a soothing coolness, alleviating the hot discomfort and muscle soreness. "Oh, no, no, no. Absolutely not. I am not suffering another heart attack because of everyone’s favourite idiot again," he admonishes her, and she blinks in surprise, as it almost seems like he's expressing genuine concern for her.

“I’m not everyone’s favourite idiot,” she protests, weakly, even as he presses her back into the mattress to lie down.

“No, but you’re mine.” He says, perched on top of her. He's leaning above her now, effectively pinning her to the bed. He senses her slight movement beneath him, though it's hard to discern if she's merely shifting or genuinely attempting to break free, given her frail state.

Nevertheless, he gazes down at her from above, her hair splayed across the pillowcase, her face flushed, eyes half-closed, disheveled clothing, and heavy breaths. He realizes the position he’s in and releases her quickly, flustered. He hides this by opting to fetch a drink of water from his waterskin for her.

“You—you could have said something, you know.” He continues, smoothly. “Before it got this bad.”

“You had other things on your mind. Didn’t want you to worry about me,” she mumbles, but Astarion detects the slight slur in her words. He lifts the glass to her lips, eyes lingering on its shape, and she takes a sip of the cold liquid, letting out a soft moan of relief.

“Don’t want you to get sick, either.” She adds, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Thinking your companion is going to die after they randomly collapse is very worrying, so you know.” Astarion chides, putting away the waterskin. “And also, I’m far too dead to contract such a simple illness. Dalyria says it’s from exhaustion—something you’re suffering from more than me, for once.”

He’s really sure that she’s dying now. She does not retort, and against all odds, it seems that she actually managed to fall asleep again. It makes sense to him that her sickness might be getting slightly worse. When he first touched her forehead, it felt scorching to the touch, and she's now buried beneath several layers of blankets, almost swallowed by the bedding.

Astarion takes in the sorry state of the room. There's a soiled towel nearby with remnants of vomit. He observes her shivering, her clothes clinging to her body, drenched in sweat.

Astarion sets out to gather some supplies—more towels, additional water, and some rations. They were running low on food, but as long as she could sustain herself, he wasn't too concerned.

He watches her as she drifts in and out of consciousness, noting her increasing confusion, likely due to the worsening fever. She mumbles about things he can't quite make out as he settles with a book to keep her company while he monitors her condition.

He glances up from the pages periodically as she rests on the makeshift bed, wrapped in old, dusty blankets. Astarion stokes the nearby fireplace to provide warmth, even though she appears to be sweating profusely, so he's unsure if it's the best idea.

She did seem to be relieved by his touch, though. To check on her condition once more, he reaches out and gently brushes her hair to the side to touch her forehead. She initially flinches, and he moves to withdraw his hand—until she grips his wrist. It’s a feeble hold, but she keeps his hand pressed against her face.

He realizes he doesn’t feel repulsed by her actions at all. It’s true, she’s using him—quite literally, as some sort of relief—but it feels like she needs him in this moment. He can’t pretend not to like the thought of being needed, even wanted by her.

He wonders, as an extension of that line of thought, if he would be okay with kissing her. Reflecting on his past experiences with the drow, he remembers the familiar, lingering disgust and self-hatred that typically arose. However, Tav doesn't evoke any of those emotions within him. His hand drifts, and his thumb traces her bottom lip gently. It's not smooth or plump; it's dry and cracked. Somehow, that makes it feel more authentic, and the question lingers in his mind.

But he doesn’t need that. He can get physical affection from anywhere. He just… likes this. That’s all it is. That’s all it has to be, right? This is rarer—he wouldn’t give this up for the world.

So he doesn’t allow his thoughts to wander beyond that.

But seeing her reluctance to let him go stirs something within him. It’s a tug at the depths of his chest, an undeniable ache. Well, if he could be of help to her like this, then who was he to deny her? After all, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared moments like this before.

He proceeds with caution, making every effort to avoid disturbing her as the bed slightly dips underneath his weight. He pulls the blanket over both of them and he draws her near, and she emits a soft sigh as her arms instinctively encircle him, warming his chest.

In the absence of a clock, Astarion loses track of time as he remains in bed beside her. He devotes most of it to observing her, running his fingers through her hair with a gentle touch. It's an act one might do with a lover, although she remains unconscious. He could murmur tender words, and she would remain unaware. Even if she happened to hear, he suspected her current state of mind would prevent her from retaining the information. No, this is for his own solace, and he finds it strangely comforting.

[cosmicjoke]

The Psychological and Emotional Impact of Levi’s Early Childhood:

I don’t think Levi’s early childhood really gets discussed enough in the fandom, or the ways in which those experiences in his formative years had to have impacted him.  This could be because we don’t really get many panels depicting his childhood.  Just a few.  But those few panels show us enough for us to extrapolate plenty and form a pretty clear picture of what he went through.

First of all, it’s almost a certainty that Levi was born as the result of rape. 

That’s something that I think everyone should let sink in.

He was born in the brothel that his mother, Kuchel, worked in.  And “worked” is a relative term here.  Kuchel was driven into the Underground as a result of persecution by the royal family.  She was undoubtedly very young, she was alone, with no real resources or support or guarantee of safety or protection from anyone, in an environment of criminality and violence.  There were likely very few, if any options available to her in terms of her own survival.  Her becoming a prostitute wouldn’t have been any kind of a choice then, but rather a move made in desperation.  And so I think we can also safely assume that Kuchel’s experiences working as a prostitute were tantamount to forced labor.  In other words, a kind of slavery.  She was almost certainly paid a paltry sum by the brothels owner, evidenced by the sorry, squalid and destitute state we see her and Levi living in when Kenny comes.  She was likely afforded very few, if any rights or defenses against whatever her clients chose to do to her, as also evidenced by the fact that no one seemed to really know or care enough about her or Levi to even realize when she had died. 

It’s impossible for me to define any of what Kuchel went through working in such a place as anything less than rape, then.

So, Levi’s very existence is one that is a literal product of violence.  I’m absolutely sure that Levi himself is painfully aware of this, knowing that he was born out of his own mother’s pain and suffering.  Going into the implications of this on Levi’s psychological health, I think you can safely assume this realization had a very negative impact on his own sense of self-worth.  His mother was the only person in his childhood who we ever saw treat him with any kind of actual love or kindness.  The only person who ever, actually wanted him.  And yet, Levi would have seen demonstrated to him, every day, how his existence in his mothers life placed an increased burden on her, forcing her into increasingly more desperate circumstances, now having to feed two mouths instead of only one, and as a result, likely having to engage in increased, unwanted sexual activity with her clients.  So Levi would be aware that not only was his mother, (again, the only person who loved and treated him with tenderness) being hurt on his behalf, but he also would have been aware, after witnessing the particular ways in which she was being hurt, that he himself was the result of that violence.  Levi would have been shown that his very existence, then, was something which caused immense suffering and pain to the only person in his life who loved him.  I honestly can’t even imagine the negative implications of something like this on a young mind.  Only to say, it must have been horrific and resulted in lifelong trauma.  Trauma which, due to the desperation of Levi’s life afterward, he likely never had any opportunity or chance to even address. 

Now, moving on to something else.  There’s a tendency by many to paint Kuchel as this sort of perfect mother figure.  Someone who, through the power of her love for Levi alone, was able to overcome the trauma of their general circumstances, to negate the negative experiences he would have been exposed to, resulting in Levi becoming the kind and compassionate person he would be as an adult.  But I think this assumption about Kuchel and their situation is not only unrealistic and idealized in the extreme, but also in its way, undermines the actual bleakness of their circumstances.

Again, we have to remember that Kuchel was driven into the Underground, and essentially forced, through lack of any other options, to become a prostitute.  Calling her a prostitute is a nice way of saying she had to sell herself into sexual slavery.  Kuchel’s own psychological and emotional trauma doesn’t often get touched upon or acknowledged when people talk about her and her relationship with her son, nor does the desperate poverty of their living situation.  Kuchel died right in front of Levi, and we can assume with pretty good accuracy that she either died from a sexually transmitted disease, or that she died from malnutrition and starvation.  These weren’t two people, then, who were living a comfortable or secure life.  In fact, the very opposite.  Levi was starving to death when Kenny found him.  It’s easy enough to assume from his state of general neglect and starvation that Kuchel, at the very least, was struggling to provide for him.  Not just food, but any kind of comfort or care.  Clothing, warmth, protection, cleanliness, and very likely even, affection.  This isn’t a knock on Kuchel’s worth as a mother, or her parenting.  She was, undoubtedly, doing the best she could given the circumstances.  But, again, this particular aspect of their lives isn’t touched on nearly enough.  Kuchel died out of neglect, impoverishment, desperation and abuse.  Given what we can assume her day to day life was like, having to let men come and sexually assault her just to keep herself and her son alive, one has to also consider the emotional and mental toll this sort of existence would eventually have on her.  She had to have been exhausted, both mentally and physically.  You add to this the always uncertain and present reality of whether either her or Levi would even be able to eat on any, given day, whether she would be able to keep her son from starving to death, and you can start to form a clear idea of how things like “playtime” or “fun”, or freely given and enthusiastic love and affection, would be, tragically, low on the list of priorities.  Their situation was absolutely a situation of survival, first and foremost.  Luxuries weren’t a part of their lives.  Anyone who’s ever experienced extreme deprivation, poverty and desperation on the level in which Kuchel and Levi were living would know that those material realities absolutely have a negative impact on one’s ability to simply live.  To be happy.  To indulge in fantasy.  To indulge in luxury.  To indulge in any kind of relaxation or ease of living.  It’s nice to imagine that Kuchel was always able to show Levi love and affection.  To always be a kind, caring and generous mother to him.  But that perception of their lives together ignores the bleak and harsh reality of what was really going on.  More likely than not, Kuchel was often too exhausted and in bad, physical shape herself to play with Levi, to pay attention to Levi, to indulge in Levi.  It was everything she could do, after all, to simply keep Levi alive, let alone healthy and happy.  Kenny described Levi, when he first took him in, as the most unfriendly kid he’d ever met.  We rarely see Levi speak at all in those early days with Kenny.  That doesn’t speak to someone who is well adjusted socially.  That doesn’t speak to someone who received a lot of open love and affection in the formative years of his childhood.  Again, this isn’t to criticize or undermine Kuchel’s abilities as a mother.  It’s simply acknowledging the tragic reality, that someone in Kuchel’s position, living the kind of life she was living, wouldn’t have had the luxury of being for Levi everything he needed her to be. 

This also leads me into another point I don’t think I’ve ever seen discussed, and that has to do with Kuchel’s decision to have Levi at all, and how that choice is, simultaneously, both entirely selfless, and entirely selfish. 

Kenny tells his grandfather that he tried to talk Kuchel out of having her baby, trying to explain to her how bringing a baby into the kind of situation she was living in wasn’t viable.  It was only going to make, not only her own life worse, but in turn, the baby’s life was going to be awful too.  We later see, in Kenny’s memories, a scene in which Kuchel is holding Levi as a newborn against her chest and crying tears of happiness.  Kenny recalls this as part of his monologue about dreams, and the desperation of dreams, and the ability of dreams to corrupt us.  This is important to acknowledge.  Because again, while Kuchel’s intentions in giving birth to Levi were pure, and her love for him was absolutely pure and genuine, still, she DID bring him into a situation of extreme poverty, desperation and violence.  In a way, Kuchel prioritized her dream of motherhood not only over her own well being (this being the selfless aspect of her decision), but also over Levi’s well being (this being the selfish aspect).  She knew her own living situation was terrible, filled with suffering, cruelty and pain.  She knew this, and she was aware, from Kenny’s own words, that bringing a child into that situation was only going to make things worse, for both of them.  But she chose to do it anyway.  She chose to give birth to Levi, and to keep him, knowing the sort of deprivation and desperation he would be exposed to.  Knowing the kind of violence and cruelty and ugliness he would be exposed to, being born and raised in a brothel, in which she was working as a prostitute, relegated to a single room with him in it. 

Chances are high, extremely high, that Levi saw his mother raped.  Maybe she sent him out of the room when she was with clients.  But maybe she wasn’t able to.  We never see any evidence of Levi having ever left their single room as a child, and even if he had, the building they were in was a brothel, catering to men seeking and paying for the sexual services of women.  It isn’t an environment that is, in any way, suited to a child, friendly to a child, or even tolerant of a child.  It’s almost 100% certain that Levi was, at one time or another, exposed to sexual violence against women, whether it was his own mother, or someone else.  He would have been exposed to violence in general too, because men who sexually assault women are also very likely to physically assault them.  I don’t think it’s any kind of a stretch, even, to assume that Levi himself might have been on the receiving end of physical violence, at the least, in a place like that.  Men who wouldn’t want some little kid around while they force themselves on the women there probably would have little qualm with hitting Levi to make him go away. 

Again, going back to Levi’s “unfriendliness” when Kenny first takes him in, I think we can extrapolate that a lot of what Kenny was perceiving as unfriendly behavior was in fact just Levi being withdrawn.  He seemed sullen and mute to Kenny.  We see this in children who have been abused.  They tend to go within themselves and make themselves as unobtrusive as possible, not wanting to draw attention to themselves, because whenever they have, it’s always resulted in them somehow being hurt.  Levi’s body language when Kenny first meets him speaks to this as well.  He’s curled against the wall opposite his mother’s bed, literally making himself as small as possible, his knees hugged to his chest, his head bowed close to them, etc...  Like he’s trying to hide.  Again, it doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to assume that Levi fell victim to the violence of the men who frequented that place.  The Underground in general was filled with violent and cruel men who made a living out of criminality, who in fact wouldn’t think twice about committing murder, etc... 

This is the world Kuchel brought Levi into.  A world of physical and sexual violence, a world of depravity and illness, a world of poverty and starvation.  Kuchel loved Levi with all her heart.  That isn’t for a moment in doubt.  But by choosing to have him and keep him, she also trapped him into a life of pain and suffering of his own.

Kuchel had to know, if anything were to happen to her, that Levi’s chances of survival were next to none.  He was helpless without her, and that too is evidenced by the fact that, when Kenny finds them, Levi is literally starving to death.  He’s just sitting there, resigned to his fate.  There’s no indication whatsoever that Levi ever even left their room to seek food, or help of any kind.  He just sat there, trapped with his mother’s rotting corpse, waiting to die.  And nobody there cared enough to even check on him or his mother in the span of time between when she fell ill and when she died.  Nobody there cared enough about either of their lives to see if they were okay, and we can assume, because Levi didn’t seek anyone’s help, that he didn’t think anyone would help him, which tells us all we need to know about how he and his mother were generally treated in that place.  Kuchel must have known, as she was dying, that without her, Levi was going to die too.  She had no way and no cause to know or think that Kenny would come by to rescue him.  And, indeed, if Kenny hadn’t shown up right when he did, Levi almost certainly would have died in that room with her.  I can’t even imagine the pain this must have caused her, knowing she was dying, and knowing as a result, that her son was going to die too.  It would have been unbearable.  But again, this is also the risk Kuchel took when she chose to give birth to and keep Levi.  She knew this was a possibility.  That her child would die a slow and painful death without her there to protect and take care of him.

So this sort of sunny, idealistic picture that tends to get painted of Levi’s life with his mother seems both unrealistic and unfair to them in terms of understanding their actual situation.  This wasn’t a happy or good life they were living together.  It was a life full of misery and pain.  Levi’s monologue later on to the 104th recruits, about not knowing if you’ll wake up and get to eat that day, or if your friends will still be alive, wasn’t just a reflection on their lives living with the threat of titans.  It was a reflection of his own life living in the Underground, living a life surrounded by poverty and violence and uncertainty.  That was Levi’s existence for the first 25 years of his life.  That was Levi’s childhood.  Violence and starvation, cruelty and deprivation.  Kuchel’s love, as pure and as genuine as it was, wasn’t enough on it’s own to overcome the scars of all that. 

One last note to end this on. 

There’s also a tendency to paint Kenny’s rescue of Levi as this very heroic and selfless act on Kenny’s part.  A moment in which Levi was pulled from the jaws of certain death and given a chance to live by his uncle.  And while, yes, Kenny certainly did save Levi’s life and give him that chance, I think it’s also important to acknowledge that Kenny’s treatment of Levi was abusive, and ultimately caused him more harm than good.  Kenny, we have to remember, went down to the Underground to rescue Kuchel.  He went to that brothel with the intention of pulling her out and bringing her to live back up on the surface, able to do so now that he had ended the persecution of their family through his connection with Uri Reiss.  But by the time he got there, Kuchel was dead, and she’d left behind her only child in Levi.  Kenny could have so easily brought Levi up to the surface with him, the way he’d been planning on doing with Kuchel, and given him a good and happy life.  He could have saved him from the hell of living in the Underground City.  A world of perpetual darkness, a world of constant danger and desperation and illness.  People talk about how Kenny gave Levi the tools to survive in such a harsh environment, and treat this as if it’s something to somehow be applauded and praised.  But Kenny shouldn’t have had to teach Levi to survive in a cut-throat environment at all.  He’d made it possible for those with the Ackerman name to live free of persecution up above.  He could have easily taken Levi with him and given him a good, traditional education, fed and clothed him, given him shelter, given him the chance to grow up in fresh air and sunlight, given him a chance to make friends with other children, to learn social skills and just live a normal existence with the opportunity to actually be happy.  But instead Kenny chose to keep Levi in the Underground, to teach him how to kill, to teach him to be violent, and not much else, before simply abandoning him there and never going back, forcing Levi to survive on his own in the most dangerous place inside the walls.  What Kenny did to Levi wasn’t a kindness.  A kindness would have been rescuing Levi from the Underground entirely and giving him a real life above.  A kindness would have been Kenny giving to Levi what he’d planned on giving to his sister.  But Kenny was too selfish to do that, and that’s the bottom line.  He didn’t want to have to take care of and raise a child.  He didn’t want the responsibility.  Whether that’s tied to Kenny’s own, negative perception of himself or not doesn’t matter.  He still chose not to take Levi with him and give him a real life because actually caring for and raising a child would have been too hard, too much work, too much responsibility.  By leaving Levi there in the Underground, he sent Levi the message, clear as day, that he wasn’t wanted.  And so Levi spent the entirety of his childhood, and a good portion of his adulthood, believing that, and living in the Underground, living a life of violence and desperation and suffering.

I don’t think the suffering Levi went through as a child gets discussed or acknowledged enough, or examined enough.  I don’t think people often look at it with enough objective realism to realize the extreme harm and trauma Levi experienced and was left with.  It’s genuinely a miracle that Levi turned out the way he did.  That Levi is as good a man as he is.  Nothing in his life growing up can really account for that.  Everything in his life growing up would evince that he should have become the sort of man Kenny was, selfish and cruel.  It’s truly against all odds that Levi became the exact opposite.  Selfless in the extreme, kind, caring and compassionate above and beyond anyone else in the series.  Someone who fights for and gives his life in dedication to the dreams and lives of others.

In many ways, Levi is, himself, the greatest miracle of all.

[stirthewaters]

Too Sharp to Touch pt.8

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: none? 

Summary: After a chat with Larissa Weems, Wednesday is left confused about her feelings

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

Wednesday’s fingers tapped impatiently on the back of her wrists, eyebrows furrowed and sighing slightly in irritation as she paced the office, waiting for Larissa Weems to finally see her. Yes, she had been more or less accused of some previous incidents in the past but that was no excuse for this inexcusable wait time that she was for some reason being forced to suffer through.

You were clearly impatient as well; Wednesday found herself straining to listen to your own fingers tapping out small beats across your thighs as you leaned forward on the bench behind her as she paced. The Addams already had the beat you’d been drumming out memorized forwards and backward, as well as inside and out. 

The clock was taunting the both of you, ticking away loudly through the muffled sounds of phone calls and talking from behind the closed door. Wednesday was growing tired of the growing lack of Weems’ appearance in the doorway to her office; all she could think of was the time that was being wasted when she could have been focusing on the issue at hand. 

When the raven had nearly reached the point of opening the door herself, the knob twisted and she let out a slight exhale as the meticulously groomed figure of Larissa Weems appeared in the doorway, the professional smile she knew only too well spread across her features.

“Ah, Miss Addams and Miss Y/L/N, welcome in, I’ve been expecting you two.”

“Quite the contrary,” Wednesday muttered, gritting her teeth as she lightly nudged you to get you going, already quickly striding past Weems and into the office. Your leg was warm.

The room was lit with the typical warm glow of the fireplace, a cozy roar ecompanying the gorgon shaped hearth as the principal waved a gloved hand at the two chairs facing her desk. “Please, take a seat. From what Miss Addams has already told me, you heard a gunshot in the woods.” Weems’ eyes narrowed slightly as she spoke in a tone that seemed slightly warning, Wednesday listening intently as she turned to talk to you directly. “Now, Y/N, I believe the two of us have had more than one conversation about your permissions regarding the woods.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at you, folding her arms as she watched your eyebrows raise, clearly caught. Even if you might receive some sort of consequence for your disobedience it was well worth having this strange occurrence resolved. 

“I know it was before the time we agreed on, but to be fair - “ you glanced at her, eyes narrowing just slightly as you spoke. “It wasn’t my fault.”

Oh, so you were going to play that card.

“Look, Wednesday and I - “ you sighed softly, seemingly struggling to find a way not to get the both of you in too much trouble as you continued  - “it was just a dumb joke that was going around, I just had to get some stuff from the woods -”

“Quite the interesting way to discredit yourself.” Wednesday muttered with a roll of her eyes. “What may have happened previous to our current situation is unrelated.” Although your pranks were, albeit, childish and ineffective, they were adequate, and it was odd how she was slightly frustrated to see you put yourself down so quickly. Or perhaps you were merely avoiding more punishment.  

Larissa gave a small sigh, rubbing her temples with her gloved hands as she eyed the two of you, eyes still slightly narrowed as she spoke, “I’ll be quite frank with you, I’m not entirely sure what the two of you get up to in your freetime but I will assure you that any continued disregard for the rules that I have to keep my students safe will be accounted for by all means.” Sighing, she straightened and pulled out a manilla folder, placing it in front of her on the desk so that the two of you could see. “I’ve already received a written report from Thing of what he witnessed” - Weems nodded briefly at the two of you  - “but I believe I’d rather receive a recount of the situation from Y/N here from your perspective, seeing as you seem to be the main concern of this.”

Wednesday glanced at you as you straightened at being called upon, adjusting slightly in your chair as your eyes flitted from the principal to her before returning. You were anxious just talking about it; she knew your tells, from the constant shifting to the drumming of your fingers atop your thighs. Her jaw tightened as she tried to evaluate why she knew this. 

“I was just in the woods, looking around and I had…um…scented something weird earlier like sulfur… Thing came running at me out of nowhere and I heard the gunshot way down.” You gestured with your arm as if to show the direction of where the gunshot had came. “Sounded like a shotgun, but I didn’t catch anything that’d help who actually…y’know…shot it.”

Weems seemed to study you for a long moment, eyes flitting over your uniform and hair, still slightly messy with a few stray twigs from the tumble you’d taken much earlier. Wednesday’s eyes narrowed as she felt her patience beginning to wear. Surely this wasn’t such a difficulty question of your credibility? You were reliable enough, you did your work (sometimes), and you had a solid testimony. It was… adequate, Wednesday had to admit to herself, though she’d rather drive a rusted nail through her cranium than vocally say so to you.

“It isn’t unusual for an occasional gunshot here and there,” Larissa said at last, sighing as she leaned back in her chair, glancing at the fire in the hearth as she spoke. “What with the development of the different hunting gear stores in Jericho I don’t see it being particularly odd. Y/N, your heightened senses could have been a contribution to the fact that the gunshot might’ve sounded closer than where it actually had.” When you opened your mouth to argue, she waved a hand to stop you, continuing. 

“The woods are off-limits for non-faculty and normies unless under my permission and throwing out accusations based on only two student testimonies could pose an insult to the services provided from Jericho, and I’m not willing to risk the trust Nevermore has built with them so far.”

Meanwhile Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly as she remained silent during Weems’ reasoning, glancing at you every so often when you weren’t looking to observe your reactions. You looked frustrated, to say the least. She couldn’t blame you, seeing as you had appeared pretty frazzled from your experience. Maybe you had a craving for answers? To truly understand anomalies around you? After all, Nevermore was quite the intriguing place. Wednesday’s jaw tightened as she tore her gaze away from you and back to Weems, who was handing you the folder she had placed down earlier, assuming what appeared to solely be Thing’s testimony.

“If you can bring me more credible evidence that these shootings are unusual than we’ll discuss this again but until then we shall be leaving this on hold.”

“So you’re going to just sit in blissful ignorance?” Wednesday raised an eyebrow, tone hardening.

“I’d rather not risk the reputation of Nevermore over a single sound in the woods.” Weems responded, sighing as she stood. “Both of you are dismissed. Y/N, I trust that you’ll return with anything else you’ll find, as well as you Wednesday.”

Wednesday stood, nodding with a small sigh as she glanced at the folder in your hands, stepping slightly closer to examine the report, though she didn’t need to. She knew what it said. It was the same thing that Thing had recalled to Enid earlier in the dorm. A bit exaggerated but plain and to the point.

The raven glanced at you, ready to leave, and, noticing you looked a little lost in thought, she sighed and reluctantly nudged your leg again with hers. “Come on.”

You stood and she watched as you nodded at Weems, who waved a gloved hand in response with a nod as she turned back to her computer, following you out of the office as she closed the door behind the two of you with a quiet thud.

The walk past the main office was silent; Wednesday found it an eery contrast to your normal demeanor, which she typically would’ve found enjoyable if it wasn’t so out of character for you. You were surprisingly tolerable when you were silent and brooding, although the Addams found herself somehow off-put without your chattering. Curious.

That feeling, however, was quickly distinguished when you started rambling the second the two of you were back in the main hallway, more empty of students than usual.

“Look, I know we don’t have a lot of evidence, but I know it wasn’t some random thing out there! Wednesday, it was my danger sense, my fur was standing on end, and you know that wouldn’t just be some random loose shot by town making it act up!” Your hands gestured around as you talked, as if enunciating the points you were making. “Not to mention I scented the sulfur closer to the academy than where I heard the shot.” 

Wednesday nodded slightly in acknowledgement, silently noting to write down what you were saying later in the privacy of her dorm. “I assume you’re referring to where the vanilla scent trail was laid.”

“That was you?” Your head tilted to glance at her, eyebrows shooting up with a little sparkle in your eye. The look of awe in your eye was almost comical. Your cluelessness was somehow just so you.

“I wasn’t going to make it impossible,” Wednesday scoffed, rolling her eyes slightly as her tone became matter-of-fact and perfectly neutral. “Not only is that just irrational and foolish but I doubt that you’d be able to find it on your own.” The Addams suppressed a smirk at your look of indignance, followed by you reaching out your foot to hook hers. She quickly adjusted and sidestepped, a slight stumble to her foot which she silently cursed, though she glanced at you, raising her eyebrows.

“Better than last week; your technique is improving.”

You beamed, and the raven glanced away from you to the hallway, confused by the slight prickling her chest at the sight. She didn’t understand what that was, and pushed it away, exhaling slightly as her eyes fell to the manilla folder still in your hand. She reached for it and you handed it over.

“I’ll borrow this for the time being. I’d like to collect some evidence of my own if I could.”

“Oh.” Were you deflating at her words or was she imagining it? You were somehow hard to read at the moment. “I can’t help?”

“If I’m correct about your schedule, I believe you’ll be partaking in your painting lessons with Xavier,” Wednesday shook her head slightly, pausing to glance at you, mentally running through the list of activities she knew the you partook in throughout the week. “From what I know about your studies in art I assume it matters to you as my writing does to me and I shall not interfere strictly on that understanding.”

You nodded slightly, sighing as she watched you put your hands in your pockets, glancing at the folder and then back up at her. “Yeah. Just let me know if anything comes up.”

Wednesday nodded in response, sighing slightly as she briskly turned on her heel, leaving you to your devices as she moved on in the direction of  her Hummers meeting, boots clomping through the floors as she heard your footsteps echoing away behind her, the sound ringing on in her mind far more than she liked.

As she passed the commissary she heard a familiar voice, and had to resist the typical response of pressing her pocket knife to the neck of her sudden opponent, sighing as she was approached by Enid, who was smiling and giggling much more than usual.

“What. Are. Those.” Wednesday's eyes hurt just glancing at the neon colored shoes the werewolf was sporting, nose scrunching slightly in disgust. The werewolf grinned and shook her head. “Some of the hottest sneakers right now. Behold!” Enid beamed as she stomped a foot and multicolored lights danced from the soles of her shoes. Wednesday dragged her eyes away, a headache already forming in her temples from the sight.

“Enid, I have a meeting, get to the point.” She muttered out, watching as the blonde nodded.

“Look, the school is doing a little pumpkin carving thing to celebrate Halloween and I was thinking I’d offer, seeing as you like all the spooky vibes.”

Wednesday hesitated, considering the werewolf’s words as she slowly spoke. “Spooky vibes’ aside, I typically refrain from participating in activities to amuse the adolescent youth for a holiday that was invented for the excuse to receive sugar…”

“Y/N will be there.” The huge smile on Enid’s face was telling. Wednesday felt her jaw tighten as she realized exactly what the blonde was doing. 

Fists clenching, Wednesday spoke her words slowly, as if they were being dragged out one by one. “I-I’ll consider it.” She wasn’t happy with that prickling she was feeling in her chest again. She didn’t understand it and she surely did not like it. 

Wednesday turned to go. She didn’t need to look behind her to know that Enid was smiling like crazy as she walked away.

—————

pt.9 here!

Taglist: @idkjustliving2

[rejectedfables]

I think often about Jin Guangyao’s “[I murdered] my father, my (older) brother, my wife, my son, my teacher, my friend” quote. I think about how Jin Guangyao, a man known for self effacing politeness to the point of taking blame and shame onto himself to alleviate the tempers of others, in this moment takes complete responsibility for "murders” that he absolutely did not commit. And I think about how the audience both in the story and outside it, take his words at face value.  

I think there are multiple ways of interpreting who this quote is about. Obviously Father = Jin Guangshan, Wife = Qin Su, Son = Jin Rusong, those are clear. I think (older) Brother could either be Nie Mingjue or Jin Zixuan. I think "teacher” could be Wen Rouhan or Nie Mingjue. Friend could be Nie Mingjue, Su Minshan, or Xue Yang.

So I think the ONLY options for [brother, teacher, friend] (in that order) are: 

NMJ, WRH, and SMS

NMJ, WRH, and XY

JZX, NMJ, and SMS

JZX, NMJ, and XY

JZX, WRH, and NMJ

JZX, WRH, and SMS

JZX, WRH, and XY

I also saw a translation where he said “friends” plural, which would reduce the list to:

NMJ, WRH, XY and SMS

JZX, NMJ, XY and SMS

JZX, WRH, SMS and NMJ

JZX, WRH, XY and NMJ

JZX, WRH, XY and SMS

However, given the importance of his relationship with NMJ, I feel like we can safely eliminate any that exclude NMJ entirely. Similarly, there cannot be characters mentioned here who are unnamed or unknown to the reader, as that wouldn’t make any Doylist sense. We are left with a list that consists of Nie Mingjue, either WRH or JZX or both, and possibly XY and/or SMS. 

Regardless of which of those combinations you use, he did not directly OR EVEN DELIBERATELY murder everyone on that list. Let’s go through them:

Jin Guangshan: Yes, he deliberately ordered and orchestrated his father’s death. Outstanding, earned, poetic, no notes. (Okay maybe SOME notes, but like, listen. Listen.) 

Qin Su: Qin Su killed herself. In the animation, Jin Guangyao used the skull-piercing nails to force her suicide, but this is not canon to the novel. Bicao claims that Jin Guangyao must have killed her to silence her, despite her suicide having many witnesses (including us! the readers!), but Wei Wuxian (who WAS THERE) speculates that she couldn’t handle the reality of her marriage, as illuminated to her BY Bicao, or the prospect of societal shame if it got out. However, even IF “your actions drove her to suicide” were the rubric here, that’s still not quite the same as “you murdered her”, nor does it seem to be the outcome he was hoping or planning for. “JGY murdered her” is factually inaccurate, and a blatant propaganda tactic being used against him-- but perhaps it felt emotionally true to HIM because he’s grieving his DEAD WIFE and he FEELS responsible.

Nie Mingjue: JGY spent something like 5+ years suffering physical and verbal abuse and explicit threats of death by Nie Mingjue, then was tasked with killing Nie Mingjue by his father. He did so in a sneaky way, so as to not endanger himself further or get punished for (or perhaps cause an inter-sect conflict/war by) killing the leader of a rival sect.

Wen Rouhan: JGY stabbed him in all adaptations, A+, war hero.

Jin Zixuan: JGY, on his father’s orders, orchestrated a situation that led to Jin Zixuan’s death. We cannot know for SURE that JGY wasn’t aiming for his death but we CAN say that “Wei Wuxian accidentally compelling Wen Ning to kill the ONE GUY PRESENT Wei Wuxian did NOT want to kill” (OR “WN killing JZX of his own accord against WWX’s orders”) would have been a weird bet to make. This seems highly unlikely to have been JGY’s goal, but it was certainly caused by a situation he created. He also did not actually literally kill the guy.

Su Minshan: Su She died to protect Jin Guangyao from Nie Mingjue’s fierce corpse. Jin Guangyao is only “responsible” for this in the vaguest or terms and worst faith of interpretations. Technically Su She wouldn’t have died there if not for JGY on multiple levels (wouldn’t have had to protect him, NMJ’s fierce corpse being JGY’s fault, wouldn’t have been present at all if JGY hadn’t summoned him there, etc.), but if Jin Guangyao describes this as “I murdered him” that’s... a stretch. Again, like with Qin Su, this feels like something he might say because he FEELS responsible, rather than because he actually is.

Xue Yang: JGY ordered Xue Yang’s execution (or possibly ordered a fake execution, but this seems less likely) directly before he fled, injured, to Yi City. He did not die here. Later, after reconnecting and while still following Jin Guangyao’s orders, Xue Yang was killed by other people in opposition to Jin Guangyao’s wishes and plans. Again, TECHNICALLY Xue Yang would not have died when he did were it not for Jin Guangyao, but describing it as “Jin Guangyao murdered him” is QUITE a stretch. Due to the title of the “Villainous Friends” extra, which is about JGY and XY specifically, XY seems the most likely candidate to me for “Friend” in this quote, which is bizarre because I think his death is actually the LEAST connected to Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao wasn’t even present, nor did Xue Yang die FOR Jin Guangyao-- just on his payroll. BUT perhaps he still felt guilty for ORDERING his execution, and simply his willingness to HAVE Xue Yang killed counted enough to make the list.

I’ll get to the last one, but I’m pausing here to say: What all of this means is that no matter who is or isn’t on that list, it is NOT an objective list of factual murders. It is a list of people who’s deaths Jin Guangyao FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR.

Even before we get to who counts as teacher, brother, or friend, even JUST his wife solidifies this. But it isn’t JUST her either-- even if we cut SMS and XY (the other two BIG stretch candidates) from the equation, that leaves us ONLY with NMJ(friend), WRH(teacher), and JZX(brother). And Jin Zixuan is the other one that really should not make the list of people JGY “murdered”.

This is a list of people who’s deaths Jin Guangyao FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR.

Which brings us to the last one:

Jin Rusong: The quote (I believe this is a fan translation, but not sure) "One of the opposing sect leaders lost the arguments [about the watchtowers], and went into a murderous rage, killing Jin Guangyao and Qin Su’s only son. The boy had always been a good child and the couple had loved him dearly. Under resentment, Jin Guangyao tore down the entire sect in revenge” is, to my knowledge/memory, the only real account we’re given of what happened. “Lost the arguments and went into a murderous rage” doesn’t sound like the child was found dead some time later, and they had to investigate. It sounds like it happened in public, with witnesses, immediately. 

In the same scene where Bicao convinces an audience that Qin Su, who famously killed herself on screen in a room full of people with a (now) known motive for suicide, “must have” been murdered by Jin Guangyao-- in that same scene others speculate that Jin Rusong, who was famously killed by a political opponent in a “murderous rage” most likely DURING A CONFERENCE, “must have” been murdered by Jin Guangyao. 

I think "I angered an opposing sect leader so much that he killed my son" being translated by JGY into "I killed my son" is EXACTLY IN LINE with the rest of his list. How is that different than "I ordered Xue Yang's assassination, and later put him in a situation that caused others to kill him" being translated to "I killed my friend"? Or “Su She died to protect me” being translated to “I killed my friend”? Or “I didn’t anticipate my brother’s unwitting involvement in a covert operation would get him accidentally killed, which no one wanted, not even the guy who did it” being translated to “I killed my brother”? Or “I tried to protect my pregnant fiancé/wife from a horrible secret I only just learned, which would ruin her life, and when someone confronted her with it TO HARM ME she couldn’t live with it and killed herself” being translated to “I killed my wife”? It’s the same!

I do not believe that Jin Guangyao killed Jin Rusong. I believe “I murdered my son” is an example of the way that Jin Guangyao speaks about himself-- always taking the maximum responsibility onto his own shoulders. If he was in any way responsible, than he was completely responsible. If he FEELS responsible, then he MAY AS WELL have murdered them.

The context of when he says this quote also matters towards how we interpret it’s meaning. He was already attempting to flee the country, aware that the cultivation world was actively turning on him for crimes that he did AND DIDN’T commit. He was surrounded by people he thought cared about him, all of whom seemed determined to stop him from achieving a safe exit. He had had all the horrible things he felt responsible for (regardless of how directly or deliberately he was involved in those events) thrown in his face by said loved ones, while they looked at him with horror. Su Minshan had just been killed trying to PROTECT HIM, and now it looked like it had been for nothing anyway. Huaisang, who he is shown as doting upon throughout their decades long relationship, has just manipulated Lan Xichen (do I even have to go into how important Lan Xichen is to him? Please say no, please say this much at LEAST is universally understood) into BEING THE ONE to STAB HIM. 

In this moment, he believes that he’s going to die, and be reviled in death by society and his loved ones alike. He knows there’s nothing left he can say or do, he hasn’t had time to process Su She’s death, and Lan Xichen has JUST (accidentally) betrayed him (which he also hasn’t had time to process). 

And also, notably, he had very recently been IN POSSESSION of the TIGER TALLY. 

AND HE’S BEEN STABBED! To my memory this scene happens while he’s missing an arm and LAN XICHEN’S sword is still INSIDE HIS GUTS. His emotions and reasoning are probably NOT the most calm or rational right now (blood loss, pain, fear, grief, influence of the tiger tally, etc.), and this “confession” should be taken with that in mind. 

I just think a lot about how “I murdered [everyone I’ve loved except for you]” is such a raw and telling line, given the context. Even if it’s more like “I murdered [everyone I’ve owed devotion to except for you]”, that’s still so painful. He blames himself for all of it. All of it! The world celebrated Wen Rouhan’s death, but Jin Guangyao added it to his personal list. Jin Guangshan is arguably the most reprehensible character in the entire story, and ruined every part of Jin Guangyao’s entire life, but he’s on the list. He did everything in his power to protect Qin Su, and when she found out the truth he continued offering her ways he could protect her, but she chose to kill herself, and she’s on the list. He tried to improve the world with the watchtowers, and someone retaliated by murdering his son, and he claimed responsibility for that too.

He knew he was being blamed for their deaths, knew it was propaganda and slander and bad faith, but he blamed himself too. So he just... accepted it. I did it. It was me, I murdered them.

And so, so, so many people, in his world and in ours, were so, so eager to agree

[mothwingwritings]

Hi hi~ hope you are doing great today xD

Sooo First of all I love how you write and I have been binge reading yujiro stepfather serie(?) And absolutely love it; but stepdad yujirou + Baki and jack the yandere/siscon stepbrothers could you imagine like:

*Katsumi became her eternal friend but feels like he can't be with y/n, so ends up as her loyal/platonic companion or ends up as a teacher and friend and go on with life because yujirou is hell of strong and Sadie to pummel him again

*yujirou marries s/o and impregnate her, but y/n gives love to the child because she doesn't want him/her to suffer like her brothers

*yujirou wanted to rill up his son's and knowing their dark yandere side put the scenario on so the two end up taking her as well

*Baki and jack won't left her until she at least have s baby of each because hanma bloodline and a sense of twisted family

*and what would happen if pickle also gets interested? How would he reacts with y/n pregnant or with kids and with the scent of the hanma's? Would he tried to kill the kids like the lion in a new pride? Or just add them to the family and put his seed too? And the hanma's what would they do?

*oh and what happened with the ash tray

Sorry for the long feel free to ignore

I love your brain, darling~

Warnings: Stepcest, breeding kink, mentions of child rearing/being a mother, mentions of noncom, 18+ only please.

If the two Hanma brothers didn’t have any kind of breeding kink before, seeing their sweet little sister heavy with child is about to change that REAL quick.

Don’t get them wrong, it makes their blood boil to witness you carrying some other man’s child, let alone Yujiro’s spawn. Seeing you grow each day, swelling with the ogre’s unborn infant, is enough to make them go damn near feral. The whole situation unleashes a torrent of emotions -rage, disgust, pity, vexation, and sympathy, all swirling together within the two of them, vying for dominance. They don’t know whether they wanted to give this kid the world (it was your child after all, and it wasn’t that they weren’t sympathetic to its situation, they probably knew the tribulations and hardships that baby was to face more so than anyone else) or completely disregard it (they just couldn’t shake where it came from, what brutality was committed against you to conceive it).

On one hand, how dare Yujiro force himself inside of you, planting a seed that will bind you to him irrevocably? It was maddening knowing you were trapped by Yujiro’s side, saddled down caring for his offspring. The ogre had you right where he wanted you now, stuck between a rock and a hard place, trapped just beyond the brothers reach.

But on the other hand, two can play at that game.

It was easy enough to convince you to come to them. You loved Baki and Jack. You respected them and you trusted them, you had no reason not to come to them willingly.  You were always so eager to see them, so grateful for their companionship. The day they entrapped you, you approached the brothers with arms spread, heart bared, and eyes sparkling as you walked blindly into their trap.

The last thing they wanted was to hurt you, that was never their intention. But you just looked so beautiful when you were pregnant, full and round and glowing, like an angel had landed on earth. They were craving seeing you that way again, adamant that they would be the ones who would fill you with their seed, and you would be the one who would help them create a new life.

And you were such a good mother, doting on your baby with love and affection despite the circumstances of how they were conceived. Didn’t Jack and Baki deserve that too? Why did their monster of a father get the only honor? They certainly treated you better than he did, loved you far more than he ever could or would. And they would never treat their children the way the ogre had treated them growing up, disregarded, abused, or as petty amusements their whole lives. Yujiro was such a terror that the brothers tried to keep themselves from growing overly attached to the baby he had created with you, not only due to the mixed emotions they felt about the situation, but because they knew the likelihood of having an infant survive growing up around the Ogre was optimistic at best.

However Baki and Jack were not their father. Maybe they had to resort to underhanded methods to get to you, sinking down to Yujiro’s level to get you pregnant with their children, but the difference between themselves and that monster would always be the overwhelming affection they held for you. Even if you had trouble understanding what was going on, or couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that everything they did for you was for your own benefit and safety, they knew that the lives they were forging for you was what would ultimately make you the happiest and bring you the most joy, you just needed time to get used to it first to realize that. Seeing you waddle around fat with their baby’s is both brothers ultimate dream, and they will destroy anyone who tries to steal that from them, whether that be their father or otherwise. And unlike their father, any life they bring into this world with you will be cherished-the baby will essentially be half you, after all, how could they not adore it?

They know you will cry and feel betrayed and possibly even get a bit hurt should you try to deny them. But no matter what happens, they know you will forgive them because when it comes down to it, you love them just as much as they love you. They are ready and willing to give you all the time in the world to adjust, you are worth any amount of effort to keep happy.

(Also poor Katsumi, but I am glad he gets to be a homie at least lol. The eternal suffering that poor man receives through our prose…)

Now for our caveman situation…

Pickle knows there is something different about you, something that draws a family as strong as the Hanma’s to you. There’s a reason why they are all vying for your attention, eager to procreate with you, and your beguiling presence is not lost on him either. Should his interest become strong enough he’ll definitely snatch you away to create a brood of his own with you. He would become EXTREMELY overprotective of you while you were pregnant, monitoring you like a hawk to make sure you are comfortable and that there are no predators a foot to cause you any harm. When you are full of his children, he treats you more gently than you thought a beast like him possibly could. Were this a situation you were actually compliant in, you would almost call it charming how gently he handles you, or how quietly he tries to lumber his large body around you so as not to disturb you.

As for the other children you had previously… I feel like that is very dependent on the situation. He would not outright kill them by any means. Right now they are small, helpless, they don’t pose a threat to him and you care for them, he has no reason to take them from you nor does he really want to. Also, they have Hanma blood running through their veins and that intrigues him. What manner of person will they grow up to be, he wonders? The thought of watching such people grow, even have a hand in raising them or training them, was too interesting of a prospect to throw out the door.

THAT BEING SAID, his children with you will always take precedence over them. Should you find yourselves in a situation that requires him to choose who he needs to protect, you will always come first, followed by the children he sired with you, anyone else is nonconsequential. Though he has no true ill will towards the children, he certainly doesn’t harbor the love for them that he does his own offspring. He cares for the Hanma kids well enough, but base interest is about as far as it goes. If they starve, get hurt, or have to get sacrificed, so be it.

And Yujiro def still has that ashtray. For WHATEVER reason, even though it’s a shitty little trinket that was crudely made by the hands of your child self, he can’t seem to part from it. He even travels with it and uses it regularly. Weird, huh? I wonder why…