#medium repost

[aronarchy]

Why we don’t like it when children hit us back

To all the children who have ever been told to “respect” someone that hated them.

March 21, 2023

Even those of us that are disturbed by the thought of how widespread corporal punishment still is in all ranks of society are uncomfortable at the idea of a child defending themself using violence against their oppressors and abusers. A child who hits back proves that the adults “were right all along,” that their violence was justified. Even as they would cheer an adult victim for defending themself fiercely.

Even those “child rights advocates” imagine the right child victim as one who takes it without ever stopping to love “its” owners. Tear-stained and afraid, the child is too innocent to be hit in a guilt-free manner. No one likes to imagine the Brat as Victim—the child who does, according to adultist logic, deserve being hit, because they follow their desires, because they walk the world with their head high, because they talk back, because they are loud, because they are unapologetically here, and resistant to being cast in the role of guest of a world that is just not made for them.

If we are against corporal punishment, the brat is our gotcha, the proof that it is actually not that much of an injustice. The brat unsettles us, so much that the “bad seed” is a stock character in horror, a genre that is much permeated by the adult gaze (defined as “the way children are viewed, represented and portrayed by adults; and finally society’s conception of children and the way this is perpetuated within institutions, and inherent in all interactions with children”), where the adult fear for the subversion of the structures that keep children under control is very much represented.

It might be very well true that the Brat has something unnatural and sinister about them in this world, as they are at constant war with everything that has ever been created, since everything that has been created has been built with the purpose of subjugating them. This is why it feels unnatural to watch a child hitting back instead of cowering. We feel like it’s not right. We feel like history is staring back at us, and all the horror we felt at any rebel and wayward child who has ever lived, we are feeling right now for that reject of the construct of “childhood innocence.” The child who hits back is at such clash with our construction of childhood because we defined violence in all of its forms as the province of the adult, especially the adult in authority.

The adult has an explicit sanction by the state to do violence to the child, while the child has both a social and legal prohibition to even think of defending themself with their fists. Legislation such as “parent-child tort immunity” makes this clear. The adult’s designed place is as the one who hits, and has a right and even an encouragement to do so, the one who acts, as the person. The child’s designed place is as the one who gets hit, and has an obligation to accept that, as the one who suffers acts, as the object. When a child forcibly breaks out of their place, they are reversing the supposed “natural order” in a radical way.

This is why, for the youth liberationist, there should be nothing more beautiful to witness that the child who snaps. We have an unique horror for parricide, and a terrible indifference at the 450 children murdered every year by their parents in just the USA, without even mentioning all the indirect suicides caused by parental abuse. As a Psychology Today article about so-called “parricide” puts it:

Unlike adults who kill their parents, teenagers become parricide offenders when conditions in the home are intolerable but their alternatives are limited. Unlike adults, kids cannot simply leave. The law has made it a crime for young people to run away. Juveniles who commit parricide usually do consider running away, but many do not know any place where they can seek refuge. Those who do run are generally picked up and returned home, or go back on their own: Surviving on the streets is hardly a realistic alternative for youths with meager financial resources, limited education, and few skills.

By far, the severely abused child is the most frequently encountered type of offender. According to Paul Mones, a Los Angeles attorney who specializes in defending adolescent parricide offenders, more than 90 percent have been abused by their parents. In-depth portraits of such youths have frequently shown that they killed because they could no longer tolerate conditions at home. These children were psychologically abused by one or both parents and often suffered physical, sexual, and verbal abuse as well—and witnessed it given to others in the household. They did not typically have histories of severe mental illness or of serious and extensive delinquent behavior. They were not criminally sophisticated. For them, the killings represented an act of desperation—the only way out of a family situation they could no longer endure.

- Heide, Why Kids Kill Parents, 1992.

Despite these being the most frequent conditions of “parricide,” it still brings unique disgust to think about it for most people. The sympathy extended to murdering parents is never extended even to the most desperate child, who chose to kill to not be killed. They chose to stop enduring silently, and that was their greatest crime; that is the crime of the child who hits back. Hell, children aren’t even supposed to talk back. They are not supposed to be anything but grateful for the miserable pieces of space that adults carve out in a world hostile to children for them to live following adult rules. It isn’t rare for children to notice the adult monopoly on violence and force when they interact with figures like teachers, and the way they use words like “respect.” In fact, this social dynamic has been noticed quite often:

Sometimes people use “respect” to mean “treating someone like a person” and sometimes they use “respect” to mean “treating someone like an authority” and sometimes people who are used to being treated like an authority say “if you won’t respect me I won’t respect you” and they mean “if you won’t treat me like an authority I won’t treat you like a person” and they think they’re being fair but they aren’t, and it’s not okay.

(https://soycrates.tumblr.com/post/115633137923/stimmyabby-sometimes-people-use-respect-to-mean)

But it has received almost no condemnation in the public eye. No voices have raised to contrast the adult monopoly on violence towards child bodies and child minds. No voices have raised to praise the child who hits back. Because they do deserve praise. Because the child who sets their foot down and says this belongs to me, even when it’s something like their own body that they are claiming, is committing one of the most serious crimes against adult society, who wants them dispossessed.

Sources:

“The Adult Gaze: a tool of control and oppression,” https://livingwithoutschool.com/2021/07/29/the-adult-gaze-a-tool-of-control-and-oppression

“Filicide,” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filicide

[cairafea]

my favourite genre of seventeen is when they're straight up lying

ref:

[elizakai]

so apparently this drawing like. got eradicated by the tumblr void because the original post is gone…so here it is again bsisndn💔🙂‍↕️

[datshitrandom]

Klaine moments by episode | 3.01 The Purple Piano Project

[storiesfromthegrave]

Follow the source link to 23 gifs of NIKHIL PARMAR in the tv-series Foundation (season 1 / 2021). NIKHIL PARMAR (born 1990) is a British actor of unknown Indian descent, known for his roles in Foundation, the Rig, and Brassic. These gifs were made from scratch, please don’t claim them as your own. This gif pack is free. Trigger warning: guns.

Please consider donating to my kofi!

[halo2rat]

[revoevokukil]

The Unpublished Ending of The Witcher 3

In 2014 The Witcher 3’s design documents leaked ahead of the game’s publishing. In 2021 the game’s source code and original story drafts escaped.

The Witcher 3 has a slapdash III Act. Battle with the Wild Hunt was supposed to take place in Novigrad. Avallac’h, instead of Eredin, was the “final boss.” Let’s talk about that.

In a follow-up to TW3 Story Leaks I asked for more details on the final twist and got them. I’ll include screenshots of the 2014 documents for correlation and comparison. Keep an eye on the witcher subreddits in February 2025 (current ETA) and on this user’s Nexus page for a compilation of the story changes The Witcher 3 underwent before the 2015 release. (Others have compiled such information in the past.)

Keep an eye on the witcher subreddits in February 2025 (current ETA) and on this user’s Nexus page.

---

It’s a public secret that in the course of development, The Witcher 3 changed considerably: CD Projekt Red toned down the maturity of the story, simplifying when they could not decide on their vision, did not wish to risk audience confusion, or could not find proper technical solutions. One of the casualties of the rewrites of The Witcher 3 was the plotline involving the Wild Hunt, the Aen Elle elves, and the wrap-up of the game.

In the finalé, Geralt would get the chance to stop Ciri from going through with a “ritual” in the elven tower on Undvik. He would consequently fight Avallac’h.

Fans have hypothesized about the nature of the final betrayal for years. The infamous double bottom, however, was supposed to be complicated because Avallac’h was supposed to have a good case for the “noble betrayal.” The player got to know his motives and relationship with Ciri much more thoroughly before the III Act.

For starters, UMA was going to be disenchanted in the I Act (q108) during Forefather’s Eve. The curse had two parts: one affecting the body, the other affecting the soul. (The (idea of) curses got reused in the Hearts of Stone DLC for the toad prince.) During Forefather’s Eve the player entered Avallac’h’s mind and witnessed his memories and fears for the future.

The memories included a conversation with Ge’els at Tir ná Lia, Auberon’s funeral, human slaves and least one unicorn, Avallac’h’s life, struggles, fears for the future (a frozen Vizima & Ciri dead), and relationship with Ciri. Valuable background information¹ for understanding CDPR’s interpretation and development of Avallac’h’s character and bond with Ciri — lost. Much to the book readers’ chagrin in particular. It would have made the final twist more difficult for the player. In particular since the betrayal was supposed to be a noble one.

Here is a reference to the “noble betrayal” in the storyboard section (2014 leaks):

Here is what the person analysing the story changes told me when I first inquired about the ending of The Witcher 3 that never was.

Ritual? One that requires a DOUBLE SACRIFICE!? 👀👀 One that requires self-sacrifice from Avallac’h? So. Many. Thoughts!

First, what is the “ritual” for, and what does it entail?

Is the White Frost as in the published TW3 or is the endgame something totally different? Are we still in the “save all worlds from eventual freezing” scenario (a book retcon) or not?

If the “ritual” is played straight then CDPR gave Avallac’h’s character a “noble” but fatalistic interpretation from start to finish.

If the “ritual” is a ruse, a cover for something unknown (a sequel?), then this would dovetail with the “Ciri missing” ending in both the published game and in Andrzej Sapkowski’s books:

Perhaps death is not an inevitability, but abduction and/or permanent or temporary departure from Sapkowski’s Neverland is?

In the published game, the player can hear Ciri’s mumblings abroad the ship on Skellige: “What if tomorrow I will disappear for good? Maybe then no one close to me will have to die anymore.” Aside exposing us to Ciri’s state of mind, it could be the voicelines are remnants of an earlier draft and point toward one possible ending; with Avallac’h “helping” Ciri disappear forever.

Secondly, it really hammers home the narrative of Geralt & Avallac’h competing over whose influence and philosophy on Ciri wins out. The Greater Good or “if this is what it take to save the world, better let it die.” It also underscores what Avallac’h expressed in The Tower of the Swallow, “…someone else will help her now. you cannot be so arrogant to think that the girl’s destiny is exclusively bound to you.”

Thirdly, the double-sacrifice.

Dying together with the last soul anchoring you to your memories of perhaps the happiest (and saddest time) of your life while saving the sentient life of the universe sounds pretty tragic or tragi-romantic: after everything to end it (and the Elder Blood line with it); for the greater good.

Somewhat twistedly this may mirror Lara and Cregennan (died in the name of peace between races; if that was true).

Moreover Ciri — who, as we will learn in a moment, is there willingly actually — AGREES to Avallac’h’s intentions by default. Ciri’s idealism, but also her unwillingness to let others suffer and die in her place when she could do something about is something that the player should realise during the game.

And while Elder Blood may be needed for special feats (though Avallac’h also carries Elder Blood), I would like to think that in case this “ritual” is played straight there may be an element of “in the end, you don’t have to be alone when you go.” Oddly befitting, in my eyes, for an elf associated with the Afterlife.

A lot to think about. But it gets better!

I have taken the liberty of adding who says what as I understand this, since the Polish text is in the impersonal voice.

323576|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) Greets the witcher grimly, he hoped the witcher would not follow them. 323578|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Tells him to free Ciri. 323580|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) Replies that Ciri is here of her own free will. 323582|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Ciri) Confirms Avallach's words. (Ciri) Explains to Geralt that they fled Novigrad surreptitiously knowing that Geralt would never agree to Avallach's plan. 323584|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Ciri or Avallac’h explaining) Tells Geralt what his plan is all about. He (Avallac’h) doesn't care about power, he just wants to stop the cataclysm that is the white cold. 323586|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Asks what this ritual is about. 323588|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) Says that he must sacrifice his life and Ciri's. Only the elder blood can close the passages between worlds. Geralt’s CHOICE: 323590|00000000|| [DEBUG] Convince Ciri to give up her plan. 323592|00000000|| [DEBUG] Allow the ritual to be completed. Convincing Ciri: 323594|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Convinces Ciri that the plan is madness. It's unclear if Avallach is right, and even if he is, the cataclysm could be hundreds of years away. There must be another, better solution. 323596|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Ciri) Allows himself to be convinced by Geralt, apologises to Avallach. 323598|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) States with sadness in his voice that he cannot let them do this. The cause is too important and too much depends on it to squander it in the name of selfish motives. Moving on to the fight. Agreeing to the Ritual: 323600|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Agrees sadly that the cause is noble and Ciri has the right to decide her fate. 323602|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) Thanks the witcher. States that he has taught him a great deal about the human race and that he has judged people too hastily in the past. He bids farewell to the witcher. 323604|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Ciri) Bids farewell to Geralt. Combat Dialogue (?): 323607|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) States that he doesn't want to hurt the witcher but will if he has to. 323609|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Replies that he could say the same. 323612|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Declares that it is not too late to stop this madness. 323614|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Geralt) Replies that in that case Avallach should let them go. 323616|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) States irritably that the witcher is stubborn as all dhoine. 323619|00000000|| [DEBUG] (Avallac'h) Exclaims to the witcher that enough is enough. If the witcher does not come to his senses, Avallach will have to kill him.

What do we learn?

For one, the ritual is still for the retconned White Frost, and it necessitates the closing of passages between worlds. Elder Blood is used to close the passages, implying, perhaps, that the “special individuals” who were able to move freely in the multiverse (e.g. Ciri, the Sages, unicorns) may have invited CDPR’s rendition of the cosmic White Frost in the first place. Further, we can't be certain no deception is involved in the aftermath of the "ritual." (Would Tor Gvalch'ca still serve as a Threshold of Time, would they both still enter it?) Hence there is still some cause to theorize that if Ciri remains missing/presumed dead then she might not actually be dead as some other shenanigans go down off-screen. Finally, this unused ending is wholly about Geralt vs Avallac’h, and their philosophies. The bet boils down to Geralt’s trust or distrust in the sincerity of Avallac’h’s intentions, and to how the player has read the story: is the tale about saving the (impersonal) world/universe or is it about saving (our) beloveds. Which is more important? How broad (in time and space) is your decision scope?

Notably, Ciri’s own choice in this unused ending is entirely subject to the decisions, intuitions, and wants of another (Geralt, the player). If Geralt objects, Ciri changes her mind and aligns with Geralt. If Geralt agrees, Ciri remains in Avallac’h’s sphere of influence (and we can argue about whether this is also her own default position but the point is that functionally Ciri’s fate is being wielded; in contrast to the published game where she enters the Tower no matter what). By default, Ciri and Avallac’h leave Novigrad together and in secret, and Ciri is prepared to sacrifice herself in the Tower. She is not on Undvik against her will. It’s her resolute idealism, amply demonstrated in the books, that the elf is relying on. Avallac’h expresses as much in the published The Witcher 3 too, clashing with Geralt over how well either of them reads Ciri (Geralt says Ciri gets her “fire” from her father, but Avallac’h objects: Emhyr is a pragmatist, Ciri an idealist).

It’s only after Geralt — through his bond with Ciri — tries convincing Ciri to abandon the idea that the “betrayal” comes into play: Avallac’h cannot take this no at this moment for an answer. Geralt interferes with what Ciri herself has already decided (as Geralt notes in case he agrees to the “ritual”). A fate, a Plan, that Avallac’h has worked painstakingly to bring into fruition is to be foiled by a mortal mutant (another echo of Cregennan?). It’s at this stage that Avallac’h is no longer willing to give Ciri a choice. Believing, probably, that Geralt — like Cregennan — is interfering out of pure selfishness; that Geralt’s kind of love, in the grand scheme of things, is selfish.

It’s really interesting how this unused ending can echo the entire Crevan-Lara-Cregennan configuration from the books. The notion of “selfish” and “unselfish” love, for example. In what scale, you might want to ask? Geralt is not wont to believe in prophecies or the ability of individuals to alter the course of history for “its own good”; he will not believe Ciri — a girl who has suffered tremendously and has been the object of everyone else’s desires for power — should have to sacrifice her life for those others. Cregennan probably had, or benefitted from, a similar “follow your heart” mindset. It depends on how you look at it: individual freedom and hope that things will work out anyway, or duty and hope that things will not go badly despite of it. Essentially, the clash is a clash of philosophies for how to deal with prophecies and problems that are bigger than the individual. Who decides? Why them? Are we sure?

Geralt’s viewpoint, among these three characters, is the “normal one.” Avallac’h’s is that of a mystic; he sees time totally. In CDPR’s interpretation, he is also a character who selflessly (?) seeks the Greater Good; his dialogue reflects sadness, reluctance, and even newly-found respect for Geralt and humanity (true, the latter only when Geralt acquiesces). Ciri’s point of view is also that of a mystic and a legend, given both her visions and powers; in this respect, she relates to Avallac’h in a way that Geralt can never understand. But Geralt’s and Ciri’s bond is also something that Avallac’h cannot replicate. And Geralt, who loves Ciri for her own sake alone, somehow loves her selfishly? Well, from Avallac’h’s point of view, yes; in interrupting, Geralt refuses to take a stance on what Avallac’h sees as ultimate Evil. Ciri, famously, always wants to stand against Evil. That’s the Fox’s hook, and it may well be an unintentional one. If the prescient powers of the Aen Saevherne are real then they are unable to close their eyes to things that Geralt can close his eyes to. Consult your Frank Herbert. Therefore Geralt’s love for Ciri, by which all he wishes for her is peace and happiness at last, is blind; blind in how only a parent’s love can be. It reckons with the universe’s unknowns and says, I don’t know, and it reaches for his experiences with men and power and says, I don’t trust them, and so Geralt finds that there must always be another, kinder solution toward the beloved individual. By contrast, if the future can be known and the lives of millions, born and unborn, are set above all, then individual, temporal love pales; no matter how it can hurt or no matter what joy it can bring. A loving act in that case can merely alleviate rather than put a stop to the pain that is seen as inevitable, lest there be even greater pain.

How great a moral duty can even be set on an individual?

I don’t think, however, that Avallac’h was ever intended to be a clear-cut “villain” at the end of The Witcher 3. It does not follow from the way he was written in either the books or the game.

His dialogue is laced with sadness and regret. Not to say that before the III Act the player was meant to get deeper insight into Avallac’h’s reasoning, life, and motives. The choice at the end was supposed to be difficult on account of knowing our opponent better, but also because of knowing Ciri better.

I will say that I like The Witcher 3’s published ending more on account of Ciri’s decision over entering the tower remaining wholly her own. Again, we can argue about the nature of Avallac’h’s influence on her, but if so, then it seems The Witcher 3 currently gives the answer as to what Ciri would decide for: to help. To fight and not run away. Geralt’s success, as a father, is in giving reason for Ciri to return home. No more.

On the other hand, in the published ending, we are not given a real choice as a player to trust Ciri. We are put before the fact that she will do what she will do. We will only have an odd effect on whether or not she returns. In the unpublished version, however, the player has an opportunity to stop Ciri. The player can choose not to trust Ciri’s judgement and character. Consequently the decision to “save her” may actually feel bad and, hence, hit harder, as we intervene and are not allowing Ciri to choose for herself. (You might argue though, that if this was the intended meaning, the writing may have made Ciri protest instead of allowing Geralt to sway her.) It might be that in letting the “ritual” procede, in letting Ciri choose self-sacrifice, the player is asked to accept Ciri staying true to her uncompromising character. In an incredibly painful manner.

Footnotes

¹ The players lost out on background information on the Aen Elle and Eredin in general, since another significant questline that got removed involved Geralt and Avallac’h infiltrating Naglfar in order to convince Caranthir to betray Eredin. Furthermore, the player was supposed to experience Geralt’s time with the Wild Hunt during Geralt’s dream sequences.

[you-are-an-idiot-hah]

I see you friend of mine liking ALL of my posts (/poz)

Also because I feel like it *tosses my lovely art on the table*

[leatherbookmark]

I've seen quite a number of those posts now and not everyone checks the notes so

if you see a post of a lovely painting made by someone named Kaoru Yamada, yknow, those paintings with lovely warm lights in faraway buildings, or a general aura of warmth and coziness with visible brushstrokes, like these:

that's AI-generated art.

They also do non-AI art for magazines and such, but it looks completely different.

[pinkibot]

Decided to do something for @tracobuttons’ Sam gathering this year! My first time ever participating in one, so have my Sam from my spirit medium AU :)

[aronarchy]

Let’s Talk about Toddlers and Consent.

Nov 6, 2021

My daughter can be very, very affectionate. Tight hugs, big kisses, tickles, holding hands, sitting in my lap, you name it—if this kid feels like cuddling, she wants ALL the cuddles.

But she has also been, from the get-go, very much determined to be in control of how and when that affection happens. Maybe she’s in the middle of something and doesn’t want to be disturbed; maybe she’s feeling overwhelmed and being touched is overstimulating; maybe she just doesn’t feel like hugging or kissing right now. She has absolutely no worry about hurting anyone’s feelings when it comes to that stuff.

The first time she set that boundary verbally, she was barely two. I had asked to tickle her and she had giggled and said yes, but after a minute she grabbed my hand, pushed it away, looked me dead in the eye, and said very firmly, “Mama, STOP.”

And you know how I felt about it?

So. Damn. PROUD.

I have always encouraged that. Whether she says no when I ask, or tells me to stop because she changed her mind after saying yes, I tell her, “Okay, then I won’t hug/kiss/tickle you. Thank you for telling me you don’t want that.”

Now that she’s getting a little older, I routinely ask her: “Who makes the rules about your body?” “Who makes the rules about someone else’s body?” It’s a routine part of our lives at this point, and she knows that she makes the rules for her body and no one else’s, and that she and no one else makes the rules for her own body.

Now, not everyone likes this. Some people have felt deprived of those messy baby kisses, overeager toddler hugs, and now, almost-four-year-old squeezes and hand-holding. They get sad when they have to say goodbye without a hug, or hurt when she spurns their kisses.

To that I say: Suck it up and deal.

She is absolutely not wrong for deciding that affection should be on her own terms, and nothing makes me more upset than when relatives push back against this.

“Don’t you want to give me a hug? I won’t see you again for a while!”

“Aw, you don’t want to give me kisses? Don’t you love me?”

“I’m so sad, can’t I just have one of your big hugs to make me feel better?”

NO.

“It’ll make [person] feel bad if you don’t [perform specific act of physical affection]” is a guilt tactic I’m not okay with using.

Same with “It’s just [type of physical affection], it’s not a big deal.” “Don’t be uptight, it’s just tickling.” “It’s only a hug, it won’t emotionally scar her.”

I will never give my daughter the message that she owes someone physical affection, or should be okay with her boundaries being crossed if it was “not a big deal” or “nothing was meant by it” or “they’re just playing” or whatever.

I know it’s meant innocently. But if you grow up hearing “You can’t say no to being touched if the intentions aren’t bad,” then you eventually internalize that.

They’re “Just Playing,” so you’re a prude if you tell them to stop touching you.

“It’s not even a big deal,” so you’re a bitch if you get mad about being groped.

They “feel like you don’t love them” if you reject their physical advances, so you get guilted into things you don’t feel totally okay with.

Yes, familial and platonic touch are very different from romantic and sexual touch. But the message is the same—“Regardless of whether you want to be touched, these acts of affection are expected from you, and you’re wrong to refuse them.” You don’t think that message gets internalized, and applied to other relationships?

We teach very young children that they don’t have bodily autonomy, and then we’re surprised when they grow up not understanding consent. It has to start young.

It starts with asking permission—“Can I hug you?” “Can I have a kiss?” “Do you want the tickle monster to get you?”

It starts with setting an example on enforcing boundaries—“Mommy needs some space right now, can you please stop climbing on me?” “I don’t really feel like a kiss, I don’t feel good right now. How about a high-five instead?”

Most importantly, it starts with giving your child permission to say no, and always, always respecting that “No.”

My goal is for my daughter to be so accustomed to her “no” being answered with a full stop—no attempts at persuasion, no guilt, no “it’s not a big deal”—that the idea of someone NOT listening to “no” is completely foreign and jarring. I want her to be shocked and appalled at the audacity of anyone who tries to touch her without her permission.

I want her to see persistence without consent as a MASSIVE RED FLAG, and that’s not going to happen if I start off by teaching her as a child that she owes physical affection to people who love her.

I’m trying to teach my daughter that she always, ALWAYS has autonomy over her own body, no matter who she’s with or how much they love her, and that I will always have her back against anyone who dares to disrespect that.

[peace-and-light-poetry]

What the Mirror Shows

She hated mirrors Not for what it was, of course not But because of what it showed

Mirrors showed what was true Thus, her reflection hid no secrets It showed what she had seen

She saw her reflection glaring, sneering, and snickering at her Bloody and covered in bruises Horrifically marred, almost to the point of death

To put it simply, decay was what she had seen

In every mirror, she had seen decay Seeing that image mock her again and again Yet, she never brought herself to destroy them

The mirrors showed what she wanted to deny And what many others didn't seem to see Mirrors showed the truth

Quietly, she begged them to stop tormenting her

For she didn't want to admit it She didn't want to see it for herself The decay

The mirrors knew that She knew that And she hated the idea of facing it.

[ramonathinks]

Say His Name | SUKUNA

Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.

tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex

notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂

“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.

You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.

You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.

Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.

All for him.

All for a no show.

Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.

But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.

“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.

“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.

You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.

You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.

“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.

Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”

“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.

“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.

“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.

Then he pulled away.

It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”

Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.

“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.

His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.

“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.

Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.

“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.

“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.

“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.

He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”

You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.

When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.

“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.

“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.

The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.

Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.

He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.

You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.

“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.

Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.

He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.

He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.

He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.

And he would.

He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.

“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.

“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”

He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.

He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.

He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”

He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.

He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.

You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.

He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.

“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.

Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.

With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.

Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.

“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…

And drift to sleep.

[onethousandrbirds]

the internet sure is unusable when you actively don't want to engage with whatever new thing everyone has chosen to be ghastly about

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Part One

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Amarantha decided to 'gift' you to Eris Vanserra to get back at Rhys. Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, the word whore shows up a few times, (again not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 4.6k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Eris met you when you were 35, years after the war. It was at a High Lords meeting, with your father bringing you along to introduce you to the court. It snapped for Eris in that moment.

You were wearing a spectacular navy blue and silver gown, fabric attached to your shoulders to make it look like a cape. Your wings were tucked in tight behind you to keep from bumping into anyone.

He tried to speak to you that night, tell you about the bond, but his father pulled him away quickly and he didn’t see you again.

The next time he saw you, however, you were by Rhysand’s side in all black, mourning the loss of your father and your mother. And your wings. While Tamlin’s brothers didn’t kill you, they almost did. Taking time with you is what allowed you to live, unfortunately for you.

Eris tried approaching you again, needing to say at least something to you. This time, Azriel, the ever obedient guard dog, growled and told him to leave. These ceremonies were for friends only. Which the Autumn Court was not. That night, Eris gave up on the idea that you and him could be together. He decided to leave you be, and avoid you at all cost.

But then Amarantha came sweeping in. Rhysand brought you to the ball with all of the High Lords when she took their powers. As since Rhysand’s father killed Tamlin’s, she wanted to punish him more than just taking him to bed.

“Beron, which one of these is your heir?” She asked, perched atop the throne. You were standing close to Rhys, his arm around your back. Eris, even though the bond was buried deep down, could feel the nerves radiating down that bridge. You were terrified. That she was going to hurt you. Or Rhys. And what better way than letting your enemy do it or you.

“I am,” Eris spoke before his father could utter a word. His father shot him a deadly look, but Amarantha’s smile widened.

“Good. I’m gifting her to you.” She said and smirked, nodding towards you.

Your eyes widened. Rhys looked to Eris with an even deadlier look than his father, almost saying ‘if you hurt her, you will be killed slowly and I’ll enjoy it.’ Eris stepped forward, soliciting a growl to come from deep within Rhys’s throat.

“Easy, bat, I will be gentle.” He said, unable to drop the mask. He forced his hand to remain steady as he reached it out to you.

You shrunk closer to Rhysand, listening as he leaned down and whispered something not even fae eyes could detect. You looked up to Rhys with pleading eyes.

“Hurry, now, I do not have all day.” Amarantha said, staring at her nails as if she were bored.

With a final nod from Rhysand, you shakily took Eris’s hand.

He did not pull you, instead allowing you to walk with him back to where his father and brothers stood. After that that, he let go of your hand. He promised himself he would protect you, even if you all thought he was a monster. He would never harm you, and never make you do anything you didn’t want to. Not as long as he could help it. His mate. You were under his protection now, and he would be damned if he let anyone harm you ever again.

Deciding to make you suffer even more, since you were the reason Rhysand knew about Tamlin’s brothers hurting you, Amarantha assigned you to a tiny room connected to Eris’s. It didn’t have a fireplace, and it barely fit the small bed that was in it. There was a small room filled with revealing clothing. Specially placed there so you could please Eris, according to her.

But months went by and he did not touch you. He would escort you to court dinners, offering you more food than the small portion you were allowed. You never accepted, eyes always darting for your brother to bring you some sort of comfort. But, Rhys was barely there. If he was, his eyes were cast downwards as Amarantha stroked his arm or his leg, making it clear that Rhys was her obedient dog, her whore. It made you sick to your stomach, but you knew he did it to keep your family safe. So maybe one day you could return to the sanctuary of Velaris.

You flinched slightly as Eris rested a hand on top of yours. “You need to eat, my lady,” he whispered. What seemed to be concern filled his eyes.

“So you can treat me like a pet?” You asked, swallowing your fear.

“So you can survive this.” He said. “I-“ he glanced up as Amarantha stood up to make an announcement. “I will come to your room tonight and I want you to have strength.” He said before she began to speak.

A chill ran down your spine at the thought of what you imagined on your head. You looked down to your plate, taking a small bite of the food. You were no good if you starved yourself. And if you didn’t please Eris like he wanted to, either he or Amarantha would punish you. Probably in front of your brother. Or make him do it.

Eris hummed in agreement to your action, before his attention looked towards Amarantha.

That night, you were shivering in your bedroom. The light set of pajamas doing nothing to keep you warm in the cool room, surrounded by nothing but stone. You perked your head up when the door connecting to Eris’s room opened. He normally used the main one connected to the hall, but tonight he must have wanted to be discrete. Bile rose on your throat in anticipation of what was about to happen, tears welling in your eyes as you body shook from the cold.

“I’m taking you to see your brother.” Eris said quietly. You looked at him, sitting up even more as you curled into yourself more.

“Why?” You asked

Eris’s heart broke at the sight of you, shivering from the cold and near tears from what you imagined he would do. He could be the villain in your story as long as he could keep you safe. But he needed you sane, as well. He would not let you deteriorate under this gods-forsaken mountain.

“Did you not hear Amarantha? She is sending Rhys to do scouting for the next few months. And I’d like for you to get a proper goodbye.” Eris said. “Here,” he said, pulling out the long, wool lined robe for you. “You’ll be warmer in this.” He even warmed it up with his internal heat before he came in here.

You slowly reached out, grabbing it before wrapping it around your body. He saw as you sunk into its warmth, wish that it was him you could find such comfort in.

He held out a hand and you slowly took it. “I’ll need to act like I’m taking you somewhere else, so just stay close and don’t talk.” He whispered before wrapping an arm around your waist. While you would have normally recoiled, you could only lean further into his body heat, much warmer than any you’ve know before. You assumed it was his internal flames burning under his skin, maybe causing his temperature to be much warmer than others. It must have been a nice luxury to have. Though, you were certain he had a fireplace in his room. Not that it would be hard for him to conjure flame anyway.

Eris stole glances at you, hoping that this would make you happier. You hadn’t seen Rhys, at least not at a distance where you could embrace or talk, for at least a year. But Eris knew Rhys would take your unwillingness to eat as Eris forbidding it, or some other malicious thing. Your eyes were sunken, each piece of clothing hung from your body looser as the days passed. You looked tired, exhausted, as if someone was draining the life force from you. No matter how many times Eris had asked, you were never allowed outside with him. Not even on one of the upper balconies. Your punishment for being alive while her friend was dead. It seemed Amarantha wanted to punish you more than Rhys. And Eris was just glad he could be there to protect you from most of her wrath, claiming that his gift shouldn’t be harmed. The things she threatened to do… Eris hoped she wouldn’t figure out you were his mate. Because if she did… even if her and Beron were allies, Eris didn’t think she would spare you much longer.

Eris knocked on a door, one of the shadow wraiths opening it. Your lips turned into a gentle smile as you greeted Nuala, happy to see a familiar face.

At the site of you, Nuala stepped aside. Rhys had bruises all around his neck, where he was staring at them in the mirror. You swallowed and looked up at Eris.

“Five minutes.” He said and stepped back, nodding at you to go in. You tentatively took a step inside, and once you were over the threshold, Nuala shut the door. Rhys turned, his eyes widening as he finally took account of who was in the room.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out rushing over to you. He looked you over, frowning at how poorly you looked. He cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes. Searching for the carefree little sister he knew. “Are you okay? How did you get here?” He asked.

Rhys must have put a shield around the room before Nuala opened the door, if he did not know Eris brought you here.

“I’m fine… I wanted to say goodbye. You are leaving for the outside soon.” You said, your voice quiet and weak. If Amarantha was trying to torture Rhys, she was doing a good job at it.

“Has he hurt you?” He asked.

You shook your head, wanting to say how well Eris was treating you. But the look on Rhys’s eyes told you he wouldn’t believe you. Maybe you needed to make more of an effort to be involved in this ridiculous, cruel court. But would that make you any better than Beron? Would it help you? Would it help your brother?

Rhys pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his chest, burying your head in it. “Please come back.” You whispered, holding him tighter.

“I will never leave you here.” He whispered, rubbing your back. “And I will do everything I can to get you away from him.” He said as he pulled away.

“Did Amarantha do this?” You asked as you traced the small circular bruises on his neck.

“She likes to mark her whores.”

You frowned, looking up at the cold look in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered. “I want you to know that… you are doing what is right for our family. And I’m so proud that I can call you my brother.”

You could see the words didn’t hit like you wanted them to… and your heart sank at the thought of Rhys not thinking he was doing enough. Or that he wasn’t good enough. “I will see you soon, (Y/N).” He said, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

You glanced at the time on the clock, then noticed Rhys had a balcony to go outside. “Fly for me, brother.” You whispered before stepping back. “I will see you soon.” You said before turning around and walking out of the room. You gave Nuala another smile before finding Eris with his back against the opposite hallway wall.

You walked up to him and took a quiet, internal breath. “I’d like new clothes.” You said to him.

His rose his eyebrows, shocked at your sudden urge to talk to him. “Excuse me?” It came out more rude than he meant it, but didn’t let that show.

“I-“ you started and then took a visible deep breath. “If I am to be your gift, I want to be presentable. I would like new clothes.” You said. You had no intention of doing anything for Eris, and the more you could avoid him, the better. But if Amarantha thought Eris favored you, maybe she would let you out. Maybe you could fool her into thinking you were enjoying it. And maybe that would be enough for her to let you leave your room by yourself.

“Okay.” Eris said.

It was your turn to be shocked. You thought you would need to convince him a lot more than that.

“Give me a list of clothes you’d like, and I’ll see what I can do.” He answered, then held out his arm. “Now come, you must be tired.” He said.

You tentatively took his arm, still slightly shocked that he didn’t dismiss you. This male that you knew to be cruel and abusive was nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you. You started to piece together the times you interacted with him, and couldn’t think of a single time were he was mean. Maybe distant, cold, but plenty of faeries were like that. Your brother was like that a lot of the times. It was a mask to keep him safe. Maybe Eris was the same. Maybe you could trust him.

You faltered as he did not stop at your door, but kept walking a few more steps to his. You looked up at him and watched as he opened the door and lead you inside. Maybe you didn’t escape what you dreaded earlier today.

“It’s warmer in here. If you’d like, you can sleep in here. I can take your room.” He said.

You frowned. “What?”

“Every time I see you, you are freezing. And it’s because Amarantha put you in a room that is meant to be a cooler. Why it’s attached to a bedroom, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s the proper place for the Princess of the Night Court to sleep.”

“But… won’t you get cold?” You asked, glancing to the door that connected the rooms.

“I run hot.” He said, a slight smirk coming to his lips.

“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked.

“Maybe it will be beneficial to me later on.” He said and shrugged. “But I cannot bring myself to harm you.” He said. “In anyway.”

And he showed it. From then on, you stayed in his room. Soon enough, you offered him to come to your room too. Even with the fire, you were still cold. You supposed it was the lack of food, of sunlight, of fresh air. It was not good for your body. So, you asked him to join you in the bed. Just to sleep. And he obliged, staying on his side of the bed. Until one night, where you were particularly cold after a ‘winter’ ball was thrown.

You turned over to Eris, who seemed to be asleep. You were in an oversized sweater and some loose pants. Courtesy of your wardrobe he provided for you. “Eris?” You whispered.

His head turned towards you as he opened one eye, a small smile coming to his lips.

He would act like this whenever you were alone. When no one could see you, he would show you a soft side. A side that had you wondering where all the cruel things said about him came from. This couldn’t be the same male that left your cousin for dead in the Autumn forest. He was so different than how Mor described him. If he was helping you, why wouldn’t he help her?

“Yes, princess?” He asked.

You weren’t even technically a princess, but he insisted on using the nickname. You were surprised it didn’t bother you.

“Can you… make the fire warmer? I’m cold.” You said quietly.

His eyes flickered to the burning hearth before looking back at you. “Can I try something before?” He asked.

You searched his eyes and, as usual, found no malice. Maybe a hint of mischief, if you detected it correctly. You gave him a nod, narrowing his eyes as he asked for you to turn on your side. Your back facing him.

“Do you trust me?” He asked when he noticed your hesitance. You paused at the question. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing for months. Almost a year now. Could you trust Eris? “Remember what I said? I won’t hurt you.” He said.

You slowly took a deep breath, turning your body so your back was facing him. You tensed up when you felt him shift on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling her closer to his warm body. “What- what are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m going to make you warm.” He whispered in l your ear, the breath sending a shiver down your spine. In the best way.

Suddenly, you felt his hand settling on your bicep, and your arm instantly warmed up. You relaxed into the warm, smiling to yourself.

“Is this better?” He asked, rubbing your arm up and done as he held you close.

“Much.” You answered, even leaning into his chest more.

Eris became your anchor Under the Mountain after that. You often found yourself clutching his bicep, not wanting to be far from him. He stayed true to his word. He would not hurt you. And, apparently, he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you either. One day, you were in the throne room as the court reveled, sitting on a loveseat while you waited for Eris to bring you something to drink. One particularly drunk made stumbled his way to sit next to you and got too close for your liking. Right as he was about to wrap an arm around you, Eris hauled him out of the seat. He pushed him back and said something with a growl you couldn’t hear, and then the male was running out of the room. Not many males approached you after that.

Maybe it was because your brother was gone for so long, or maybe it was because Eris was genuine to you. Even when you were out of the room, when he wore that cool uninterested mask, he was gentle with you. His touch was never too tight or too harsh. Was never too high or too low. He made you comfortable. You were starting to like him. As a friend, at least.

For the next 40 years, you were always around him. Even when Amarantha gave you more freedom, you wanted to be near Eris. Rhys started to notice, but didn't say anything as it was only apparent for your affection to his enemy before Summer, Winter, and Day rebelled. And then Amarantha's reign became increasingly strict. With only High Lord dead, and a new one taking his place, there was more tension than ever. Especially because anyone who was caught doing anything suspicious was whipped or tortured in front of the court. Sometimes, your brother would be the one to hold their minds and do it.

However, after finding out that Autumn and Night had nothing to do with the rebellion, she decided to be nice one day and allow you to the upper levels. She gave you in particular one rule, do not go outside. You couldn't help but watch as your brother went out on one balcony. And on the other, Beron and his sons were laughing. Actually laughing. It was only one month when the High Lord of Summer was killed and a bunch of Winter children were closed. Children. And Amarantha was celebrating you all.

Eris, however, was sat across from you on the couch. He noticed the way you longed to go outside, realizing while he was allowed out to visit his court with his father, you were stuck Under the Mountain. You hadn't been outside in more than 40 years.

"You should go, celebrate." You muttered, motioning to his family. "You may not be able to leave for along time." You said, frowning as you looked to your hands.

"I'm just fine in here." Eris said, resisting the urge to lean over and grab your hand. While you never crossed a line of being intimate, or anywhere near it, you had become friendly with Eris. You were more than glad to curl into his side at night, hold his hand at the dining table, or grab his arm while you walked around the passageways.

Before you could suggest it again, one of Eris's brothers peeked his head into the room. "Eris, bring your whore in here." He said.

You internally winced at the term, and Eris glared at his brother. While many people had called you the same, Eris normally corrected them. Especially his brothers.

"She isn't my whore." He growled out. "And if you call her that one more time, Sol, and I will rip your throat out." He said. "Besides, you know she can't go outside."

"Ah, Amarantha will never know." Sol said and smirked. "We'll distract the bat, you take her out there for some alone time." He said, making his way over to the balcony where Rhys was standing. As Sol pulled him inside, you could visibly see and hear Rhys's growl. He didn't want to be here, but if he could watch you amongst the Vanserras, he would.

"Sol-" Eris called out but groaned when him and one of the other brothers pushed Rhys out to talk to Beron and the Lady of Autumn. About what, you didn't really care. You stayed in your seat, taking a deep breath.

"I could at least open the door." He said and stood up, going over to the free balcony and opening the door to let in the breeze. You stood up, standing in front of the threshold. You closed your eyes as you felt the wind on your face, even if it was light.

The smile that came to your lips took Eris's breath away. Even in this terrible place, you could still find small bits of joy.

You looked down at the gap between you and the rest of the world, Eris standing on the other side. "Thank you." You said quietly to him, holding out your hand for him to take. He squeezed your hand, fighting the urge to pull you over the threshold and into his chest. He could image your giggle and scolding before you stepped back into the room. But before he could answer you, Amarantha burst through the doors with two of her sentries.

"Seems like the little princess can't follow the rules... Ah, Eris, are you trying to disobey my command?" She asked.

Your eyes widened and you immediately dropped Eris's hand. "I didn't go outside." You said quickly.

"No, but you were about to. And Eris was going to help you." She said. Rhys and the others came in.

"Now that I ponder it, I do remember hearing about the two of you sneaking around the passage ways months ago. That wasn't to spy, was it?" She asked. "Acting as lust-crazed fools?"

You never once showed any interest in Eris like that, and yet everyone just assumed the two of you were sleeping together. Or more like Eris was fucking you as he pleased.

"Nothing to say? Too bad." She said and nodded towards the sentries, one of them grabbing you and the other grabbing Eris. Rhys lunged forward to try and protect you, but Eris's brother's grabbed him.

"Relax, bastard, no one's going to hurt the princess." Sol teased.

"What is the meaning of this, my queen?" Beron asked, the ever-loving servant. His wife next to him looked completely uninterested other than a hint of worry for her son.

"We will make sure Eris and the princess never sneak around again." She said, giving a small wave before walking out of the room.

Before you knew it, you were standing in the throne room with Eris on his knees. One of Amarantha's sentries had a whip in his hands. "This is what you get for disobeying my command. And you get to watch princess, for luring him like you did the former High Lord of Spring." She said.

You looked at Eris, then at Rhys, pleading him with your eyes to do something, anything to stop this from happening. Rhys just tilted his head and stood beside Amarantha. Of course he thought Eris tried to pull you out and he would gladly see Eris punished over you.

The sound of the whip rang out, skin ripping underneath it. Beron and his other sons stood, stoically watching the punishment.

"How many month ago was it? 5? You've been sneaking around 5 months?" She asked. You weren't even sneaking around, you were simply walking. "5 more." She said and you struggled against the sentries holding you back. "Oh and another 5 for all those months lying to me." She said.

More sounds of the whip. More skin ripping. You watched as Eris clenched his teeth, never yielding a yell or scream. Like he had endured this before. You, on the other hand, were silently crying. You desperately tried to hold back your tears, but you couldn't.

After the final sound of the whip crack rang out, Eris sagged to the floor. "And 10 more, because I don't like hurting my friends." She said.

"Stop!" You screamed, an instinctual tug at your gut telling you he would bleed out if he received any more. "I'll do anything, stop this. Eris didn't do anything wrong." You begged, the sentries yanking you back as your legs almost gave out from under you.

Rhys shot you a look that essentially told you to shut your mouth, but you didn't see it. You were staring into Amarantha's cold eyes.

"Anything?" She asked. When you let out a whimper and nodded, a side smirk came to her red lips. "What about agreeing to be locked in sweet Eris's room under I die?" She asked. "Seems like a fair trade, since you disobeyed my command of not going outside. And you can't roam the halls with him either."

You let out a gulp, hearing a small whisper from Eris telling you not to do it. "So long as you, or anyone of your behalf, hurts him again. I will stay in his room." You said.

"Unless I command you out to court, you will stay in his room. And I, nor anyone on my behalf, will not hurt him. Until I die." She said.

You stood up straighter, feeling Rhys's eyes on you. "We have a bargain." You said.

"That we do." She said as you used your magic to imprint a tattoo on your back, right where Eris's scars would be. In doing so, you did the same for Amarantha, who only smirked more. "Take him to a healer. And take her to the room." She said. You stumbled as they pushed you towards the giant doors. You watched as Eris's sagging body was hauled up by his brothers, nearly sobbing at the sight of him.

As the sentries pushed you through Eris's room's door and shut it behind you, you suddenly realized what you agreed to. You were going to be trapped in this room forever. Unless she wanted to torment you more. Or she died.

What did you just do?

Part Two

A/N: This was so much longer than I expected and it's not even finished yet.. There will be at least another part! Hope you all enjoyed!

Taglist

[pinkfemgurl]

[For Archiving Purposes Only] This Jan 2024 post ended at 14,813 notes!

Ok so I feel like it's important to note that the original post was completed in Jan 2024 with 14,813 notes on the final day. During that time a lot of similar posts have used my image, ideas, or style without any reference or mention to my original post which is a bummer. I should have watermarked the post and learned from it as now I watermark every post I make. Also this post was mysteriously taken down without any reason so I'm just going to repost it to archive this history lol. I'll copy this message at the end too.

300 notes: Use a medium plug now 600 notes: Spend $20 on sissy clothes (must be pink) 900 notes: Wear panties 24/7 from now on 1200 notes: Spend $40 on sissy clothes (must be pink) 1500 notes: Sit on a 6-inch dildo once week for 30 min 1800 notes: Listen to 1 audio file of sissy hypno before bed 2100 notes: Wear androgynous or feminine clothes at home from now on

2400 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week 2700 notes: I can cum only once a month 3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min 3300 notes: Wear androgynous or feminine clothing in public from now on 3600 notes: Wear only slutty or pink sissy clothing at home 3900 notes: I have to wear a corset under my clothes everyday 4200 notes: Use a large plug now 4500 notes: Use a smaller cage 4800 notes: I can only watch/listen to girly media, anything masculine or geared towards males is banned 5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min 5400 notes: Listen to sissy hypno every time I do anal 5700 notes: I can only cum when I'm riding a dildo and it's changed to 1 cum every 3 months 6000 notes: Make a Twitter account archiving proof and progress 6300 notes: Every week either post proof/update pics of locked chastity, gif of current dildo riding, gif of current plug insertion, and pics of current sissy outfit that I'm being made to wear from these tasks 6600 notes: I have to permanently use she/her pronouns 6900 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min 7200 notes: Lock myself in ballet heels for 3 hours every day 7500 notes: From now on edge every day for 2 hours 7800 notes: Use a smaller cage 8100 notes: Every 3 days I have to use a chastity cage with a sounding rod 8400 notes: Buy the most embarrassing humiliating sissy pink dress I can find (with all the ruffles and it locks when zipped up) 8700 notes: I can only wear a dress or skirt in public from now on 9000 notes: Get Started on Estrogen

9300 notes: Every 3 days either post proof/update pics of locked chastity, gif of current dildo riding, gif of current plug insertion, and pics of current sissy outfit that I'm being made to wear from these tasks 9600 notes: I now have to use a sounding chastity cage from now on 9900 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 5 times a week for 1 hour 10200 notes: Once a week, I have to replace my plug with a dildo while I'm out in public for the day 10500 notes: I can only cum once a year 10800 notes: Buy a fucking machine 11100 notes: Buy and use sounding rods 3 times a week for 30 min 11400 notes: Buy breast/nipple pumps and use it twice a week to increase the size 11700 notes: Put on an inverse chastity cage from now on and no more edging or unlocking 12000 notes: Start an OF 12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cocks 12600 notes: I can only cum from anal 12900 notes: Make an Amazon Wishlist and add 100 toys and clothes for anyone to buy. Anyone who buys them will get a free show with what they bought 13200 notes: Use an XL plug now 13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy 13800 notes: glue the lock shut, flush the key down the toilet, the only way I'm getting out now is if I hit 15000 notes 14100 notes: Listen to any hypno file people send me (including Bambi Sleep files) 14400 notes: Let anyone make demands in my messages, I have to obey the first message that I see per day 14700 notes: Get blackmailed by someone of my choice 15000 notes: Start the process of sex reassignment surgery

Ok so I feel like it's important to note that the original post was completed in Jan 2024 with 14,813 notes on the final day. During that time a lot of similar posts have used my image, ideas, or style without any reference or mention to my original post which is a bummer. I should have watermarked the post and learned from it as now I watermark every post I make. Also this post was mysteriously taken down without any reason so I'm just going to repost it to archive this history lol. I'll copy this message at the start too.

Also because of my schedule I haven't really done much of the tasks I set out to do with this post lol... sorry about that...