#ohh it was hard you guys

[ottomanladies]

DAUGHTERS OF AHMED I AND MURAD IV

Ahmed I had six daughters who reached adulthood: Gevherhan, Ayşe, Fatma, Hanzade, Atike and Ümmügülsüm.

Gevherhan Sultan was Ahmed I’s eldest daughter; married twice to Ökuz Mehmed Pasha and Topal Recep Pasha. She died before 1631. I believe that Ragusian report of 1642 mentioning Ibrahim’s sister as sultana moglie di Mustafa Pascia detta Guiheri was mistaken for Hanzade(?). Again, in Osmanli devltinde kim kimdi it is clearly stated that Hanzade married Mustafa Pasha in 1643. So, it stays as a questionmark...

Atike Sultan was Ahmed I’s daughter born in late 1600s. She was married at the beginning of the reign of Murad IV to Koca Kenan Pasha, and eventually in 1652 to Doğancı Yusuf Pasha (Turhan personaly take care of chosing husband for her). I have just problem detecting year of her death; source claim 1672/74 (but I would say it was when Turhan’s daughter Atike died). One source Atatürk konferansları suggest her death date as 1660. Anyway, it seems that historians were unable to bifurcate daughter of Ahmed I and Ibrahim I, and they mixed them with each other at times…

Ayşe Sultan’s marriages are well dated and known. Exept two things: she married Hafiz Ahmed Pasha in 1622 (which I will prove in discussion below) and we don’t know who was her husband in early 1650s. Her last husband was Mustafa Pasha. She died in 1656.

Ümmügülsüm Sultan was born either in 1610 or 1617. Her only known husband during reign of Murad IV was some Halil Pasha. I maybe have found something about him by Süreyya Mehmed Bey:

Halil Paşa  - Enderun'dan yetişip mîrahûr-ı evvel olmuştu. 1048 'de (1638/ 39) veziriik verilerek Bağdadim fetih müjdesini İstanbura getirmiştir. Ardından saltanat değişikliği dolayısıyla gözden düşmüş olarak veffat etmiştir.

She was remarried in 1641 to governor of Herzegovina Ahmed Pasha. This marriage was also recognised by Kamil von Behr, and he referred to her as Patti Sultana. She was presented gifts as his wife in 1642, 1648 and 1655. Even she didn’t continue to receive Ragusian gifts, she was still alive during reign of Süleyman II, being alive in 1688, when she started to receive visits of Katherine Trumbull, wife of an English ambassador. On such visits, Katherine was able to collect news from the Ottoman court, such as the rumour in July 1690, later disproved, that Sultan Mehmed had died.

FATMA SULTAN

I would strongly suggest that not all marriages of Ahmed I’s daughter Fatma Sultan are oficially known. Evliya Çelebi mentioned that Fatma had twelve husbands before Melek Ahmed Pasha. I think that I am only person in this world that would claim now that his claims wasn’t sarcastic and that he was telling truth. Now,  ambassador’s report from 1st April of 1622 claimed that Sultan Osman succeeded to marry his half-sisters Ayşe Sultan and her younger sister, and that he plans to marry third sister soon (Gevherhan was already married to Recep Pasha):

Continua tuttavia la Maestà sua gia molti giorni nel detto serraglio, dove ha dissegnato maritar in diversi, soggetti 200 di quelle donne che vi habitano, havendo anche concluso matrimonio di due sue sorelle; una fu moglie di Nasuf, in Cafis Bassa di Van, che hora si trova in viaggio di ritorno, et fu gia capitan del Mare, et l’altra minor nel suo Tornacchi, che è un capo de Giannizzeri, di quelle, che hano cura delle Grue di sua maesta, et di quella caccia un'altra ne voleva dar al figliolo, che fu Cemecogli, ma egli sin hora si scusa con la povertà, riuscendo il matrimonio con le Sultane ne per la molto spesa, et per il loco predominio sopra i mariti, peso granissimo, et intollerabile dai Bassa di conto mai procurato. é stata la maestà sua questa settimana piu d’una volta incognita nell’Arsanele, per veder se si sollecita il lavoro, et ha donato al Capitan Bassa doi Veste a tal effetto, il quale affretta hora grandemente quello delle galee per mar negro, che saranno venti fra pochi giorni all’ordine per partir.

In work An Examination of Daily Politics and Factionalism at the Ottoman Imperial Court in Relation to the Regicide of Osman II (r.1618-22) (p. 66) author, using the same report, succeed to identify husbands of these Sultanas:

In late March 1622, the sultan married Ayşe Sultan, the ex-wife of former Grand Vizier Nasuh Pasha, to the Governor of Van, Hafız Ahmed Pasha, and his other sister, to the Governor of Damascus, Murtaza Pasha.

This is great, because the Sultana who was married to this Murtaza Pasha was (as Venetian report says) younger than Ayşe, and I would certainly say that this was Fatma’s first husband. The third one who was planned to be given in marriage to Murtaza Pasha’s son was most probably Hanzade. To remind you, Gevherhan was married for Recep Pasha at the time.

P.S. Who was daughter of Kosem Sultan refferend in letter she prepared for pasha in 1626 after she sent her daughter Fatma? She was never named. Historians made wrong assumption that it was Ayşe Sultan, because Hafiz Ahmed Pasha was Grand Vizier at the time, and they lacked information when did she married him, and with their free will chose is was Ayşe. I would made an assumption that she was most probably Ümmügülsüm. But still, we don’t know who this Pasha was…

At the beginning of reign of Murad IV, one of his sisters married Şehid Ali Pasha (d. 1624) (see Sakaoglu). This also was most probably Fatma, as her sisters Ayşe, Hanzade and Gevherhan had established husbands (Hafiz Ahmed Pasha, Bayram Agha and Topal Recep Pasha). According to Hammer, Atike was married before 1627 to Kenan Pasha who was seventh vizier in Divan. And please don’t ask me in which work, but I also found that Evliya stated that Grand Vizier Kemankeş Kara Ali Pasha married sister of Murad IV. I remember I was shocked, but I hope I will find again that same statement. Anyway, there is one more thing said in Demetrius Cantemir’s book The History of the Growth and Decay of the Ottoman Empire about one of Murad IV’s sister which occupied my mind, and made me think that it was about Fatma, because of her well-known greedy character:

Murad IV’s sister had four husbands in one year, and not the one of the marriages was celebrated according to the custom. They were accused of some crime, and put to death by the emperor, and their riches with all their effects assigned indeed to the Sultana as their law-wife…

Her (first officialy known) new husband was Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha, whom she married in 1624. She forcefully divorced him, as Murad IV’s was disturbed by Kösem’s extensive support for Hasan Pasha. Anyway, he continued his duties and even became Kapudan Pasha until he was poisoned by Recep Pasha in 1631, or rumour does say so (source: İstanbul armağanı, p. 117). After divorce, she was married in the same year to governor of Egypt Kara Mustafa Pasha, who was executed by Murad IV because of some action contrary to the law of God.

In work Fatma Sultan: A Sultana in the Shadow of Passion and Wealth on page 255, author cites source which claims she was married in 1629 to Sarraç Mustafa Pasha. Possibly.

I would now stress out that Fatma married Canpoladzade Mustafa Pasha in 1632. But between him and Sarraç Mustafa Pasha, she definitely had one more marriage. I will give you Venetian source I found in Vesna Miović’s work (p. 188, n. 258):

26.10.1631.     Il Capitan del Mare si speta qua col primo bon tempo…al quale si tiene per certo che e stata promessa la sultana vedova del Pascia morto a Scopie questa estate…

As you see, Fatma was promissed to Kapudan Pasha (you fill find out Canpoladzade Mustafa Pasha was Kapudan Pasha from October 1630 until July 1632 if you check the right sources) in October of 1631, before she married him in 1632. But the most interesting thing is that, when she was promised to him, she was widow of governor of Skopje who died at summer of 1631. This guy’s identity was Kaçanikli Mehmed Pasha, who was really governor of Skopje and died in 1631.

As you all know, Canpoladzade Mustafa Pasha was executed in 1636. With him, she had sons  Hüseyin and Süleyman. After his death, in 1637, she remarried Koça Yusuf Pasha (in 1638 records mentioned as his wife) and stayed with him in marriage until his death in 1658. They even had son, Ömer.

Her last three marriages were with Melek Ahmed Pasha, Kanbur Mustafa Pasha and Közbekçi Yusuf Pasha. But I would suggest she had at least a marriage between Yusuf Pasha’s death in 1658 and marriage with Ahmed Pasha in 1662.

According to work Fatma Sultan: A Sultana in the Shadow of Passion and Wealth, on page 256, we find out that Fatma Sultan died in 1671, most possibly during March:

Fatma Sultan 1671 yılında yaklaşık 66 yaşında vefat etti. Kaynaklarda Fatma Sultan’ın ölüm tarihiyle ilgili net bir bilgiye yer verilmemiş, genellikle Kozbekçi Yusuf Paşa ile evliliğinden sonra öldüğü ifade edilmiştir. Ölüm sebebi belli değildir. Terekesinde satılacak mücevherlerin kaydedildiği tarih 14 Zilkade 1081/25 Mart 1671 olarak gösterilmiştir (TSMA.d. 10457/124). Fatma Sultan’ın tasarrufunda bulunan Manastır kazası paşmaklık hassı 1671 yılının Mart ayından itibaren Haseki Sultan’a verilmiştir (MŞS. 21: 72, 75). Bu bilgilere göre Fatma Sultan’ın 1671 yılı başlarında vefat ettiği anlaşılmaktadır. Cenaze ve defin işlemlerinden sonra mirasın kayda geçirildiği düşünüldüğünde, terekenin toplanmasının zaman aldığı görülmektedir. Kabri, babası Sultan I. Ahmed’in türbesindedir (Mehmed Süreyya, 1996, s. 14)

Beside Ahmed I’s daughters, there were several unknown marriages of daughters of Murad IV. In Angelo Alessandri’s report from 1637, he says Murad IV had eleven-year-old daughter he intends to marry to Silahdar Mustafa Pasha. Additionally, it is known that thirteen-year-old daughter of Murad IV was married to Tüccarzade Mustafa Pasha in 1640 (Sakaoglu, Alderson). Now, what if I tell you that Silahdar Mustafa Pasha and Tüccarzade Mustafa Pasha were the same person? See this: https://www.suvakfi.org.tr/cesme/adalar/kaptan-i-derya-tuccarzade-silahdar-musahip-mustafa-pasa-cesmesi-h-1048-m-1638

Tüccarzade Silahdar Mustafa Pasha was executed in 1642 (not 1641 as Sakaoglu claims) as governor of Timisoara.       Also, work Life After the Harem: Female Palace Slaves, Patronage and the Imperial Ottoman Court , p. 83, says:

According to Naima, in 1642, the sword bearer, husband of Kaya Sultan (daughter of Murad IV) was murdered.

All in all, I want to point to fact that Kaya Sultan was the eldest daughter of Murad IV, born in 1627, who married Mustafa Pasha in 1640 until his execution. She remarried in 1644 to Melek Ahmed Pasha. I am conversant with statements of her being born in 1633, which I strongly evaluate as UNRELIABLE.

Only Öztuna claimed of Murad IV’s daughters, Hanzade Sultan and Gevherhan Sultan, married in August 1645. Hanzade married Nakkaş Mustafa Pasha (d. 1657; different from same-named husband of Hanzade’s same-named aunt, but this Nakkaş Mustafa Pasha died in 1653 – again, I am SUSPICIOUS about this), and Gevherhan Sultan, who married Haseki Mehmed Pasha (who actually married to Turhan’s daughter Ayşe Sultan in 1653). As Haseki Mehmed Pasha remarried in 1553 to daughter of Ibrahim, Gevherhan died before (even before 1648, as she didn’t receive gifts from Ragusians). Hanzade existed, she was still alive in 1662, and was at the time married to some vizier Musa Pasha.

Mahmiye-i İstanbul’da Ali Paşa-yı Atîk mahallesinde sâkin Dergâh-ı âlî dâme mahfûfen bi’l-meâli kapıcıbaşılarından iftihârü’l-emâcid ve’l-ekârim câmi‘ü’l-mehâmid ve’l-mekârim Mîr Mehmed Ağa b. Melek Mehmed meclis-i şer‘-i hatîrde işbu bâ‘isetü’l-kitâb zevcesi Bedirhan bt. Nimetullah tarafından ikrâr-ı âti’l-beyânı tasdîka vekîl olup nehc-i şer‘î üzere vekâleti sâbite olan fahrü’l-akrân dayısı oğlu Ebulkâzım Bey b. Yusuf mahzarında ikrâr ve takrîr-i kelâm edip mahmiye-i mezbûrede hısn ebvâbından Yenikapı hâricinde merhûm eş-Şeyh Merkez Efendi mahallesinde vâki‘ silk-i mülkümde münselik olup bir tarafdan vezîr-i zî-şân düstûr-ı âsaf-nişân Musa Paşa hazretleri mülkü ve bir tarafdan Sultanü’l-muhadderât bürhânü’l-muvakkarât Hanzâde Sultan -dâmet ismetuhâ- hazretleri mülkü ve bir tarafdan Hayrunnisa Hatun bt. Mehmed Efendi mülkü ve bir tarafdan tarîk-i âm ile mahdûd olup hâriciyesi iki bâb tahtânî odayı ve bir ahırı ve su kuyusunu ve mahzeni ve bir dolabı ve hadîkayı ve kenîfi ve dâhil iyyesi bir bâb fevkānî odayı ve bir hücreyi ve bir havuzu ve iki sofayı ve bir kasr-ı yed ve bir matbahı ve üç su kuyusunu müştemil olan menzilimi bi-cümleti’t-tevâbi‘ ve’l-levâhık müvekkile-i mezbûre Bedirhan Hatun’a beş kîse riyâlî guruşa tarafeynden îcâb ve kabûlü hâvî bey‘-ı bâtt-ı sahîh-i şer‘î ile bey‘ ve teslîm edip ol dahi minvâl-i muharrer üzere iştirâ ve kabûl ve tesellüm eyledikde semeni olan meblağ-ı mezbûr beş kîse riyâlî guruşu müvekkile-i mezbûreye cihet-i karz-ı şer‘îden on iki kîse riyâlî guruş deynim olup zimmetimde bâkī altı kîse riyâlî guruşun beş kîsesine takās edip ol dahi mukāssa ve kabûl eyledikden sonra ba‘de’l-yevm hudûd-ı mezbûr ile mahdûde olan menzil müşârün-ileyhâ Bedirhan Hatun’un mülk-i müşterâsıdır keyfe mâ teşâ’ ve tahtâr mutasarrıfe olsun dedikde gıbbe’t-tasdîkı’ş-şer‘î mâ-vaka‘a bi’t-taleb ketb olundu.

Anyway, Hanzade Sultan (daughter of Ahmed I or eventually Murad IV) really had a son with Nakkaş Mustafa Pasha. From judicial report in 1685:

Mahmiye-i İstanbul’da Ayasofya kurbunda Taşodalarda sâkin ekmekçi el-Hâc Ali b. Şaban meclis-i şer‘-i hatîr-i lâzımü’t-tevkīrde mahmiye-i mezbûrda Demirkapı kurbunda Çelebioğlu mahallesinde sâkin umdetü’l-a‘yân ve’l-eşbâh Nakkāş Paşazâde Abdülbâkī Bey mahzarında ikrâr ve takrîr-i kelâm edip târih-i kitâbdan yirmi sene mukaddem mûmâ-ileyhin vâlide[si] merhûme Hanzâde Sultan’ın baş ağası ve abd-i mu‘takı olan İdris Ağa b. Abdullah’a beynimizde ma‘lûmetü’l-evsâf Gürciyyetü’l-asl bir re’s câriyemi yüz otuz guruşa bey‘ ve teslîm ol dahi iştirâ ve tesellüm ve kable’l-edâ ben hacc-ı şerîfe deryâdan giderken harbî kefere beni ahz ve on dört sene mikdârı esir edip ve ben dârü’l-harbde iken merkūm İdris Ağa fevt olup verâseti usûbet-i nesebiyye cihetinden mûmâ-ileyh Abdülbâkī Bey’e münhasıra olmağla mûmâ-ileyh Abdülbâkī Bey terekesine vaz‘ ve kabz eylemeğin hâlâ ben semen-i mezbûr yüz otuz guruşu müteveffâ-yı merkūm İdris Ağa’nın terekesine ber vech-i muharrer vâzı‘ü’l-yed olan mûmâ-ileyh Abdülbâkī Bey’den taleb ve da‘vâ eylediğimde ol dahi cevâbında mûrisim mezbûr İdris Ağa senden ber vech-i mübeyyen iştirâ ve kabz eylediği ma‘lûmum değildir deyû inkâr ve beynimizde münâza‘ât-ı kesîre [84b] vâkı‘a olmuşidi el hâletü hâzihî muslihûn tavassut edip mûmâ-ileyh Abdülbâkī Bey benimle beş guruş üzerine sulh oldukda ben dahi sulh-i mezbûru kabûl ve bedel-i sulh olan meblağ-ı mezbûr beş guruşu yedinden ahz u kabz ettiğimden sonra husûs-ı mezbûra ve gayra müte‘allika âmme-i da‘vâdan mûmâ-ileyh Abdülbâkī Bey’in zimmetini ibrâ-i âmla ibrâ ve iskāt eyledim min ba‘d da‘vâ ve nizâ‘ım yoktur dedikde gıbbe’t-tasdîki’l-vicâhî mâ hüve’l-vâki‘ bi’t-taleb ketb olundu. Fi’l-yevmi’r-râbi‘ aşer min Şa‘bâni’l-mu‘azzam li sene seb‘a ve tis‘în ve elf.

Next very interesting daughter of Murad IV was Rûkiye Sultan. She was born in early 1630s, as she married around 1640s to Küçük Musa Pasha. Musa Pasha was mistaken to be husband of daughter of Ahmed I, Abide Sultan – who didn’t exist. Abide Sultan was daughter of Murad III and wife of Muslu Agha, and Rûkiye was Küçük Musa Pasha’s wife. She received gifts in 1648 as his widow. Rûkiye Sultan was mentioned by Ragusians in 1655 (source: Acta et Diplomata Ragusina) as Ruchie sultana, moglie di Telak Mustafa passa. Also, in 1662, she received gifts as Rukie Sultana moglie di Zelak Mustai Passa, the same guy. I succeeded to figure out his identity, he was Dellak Mustafa Pasha. And very interestingly, Dellak Mustafa Pasha was executed in 1662 by orders of Mehmed IV. It seems that it is right information that Rûkiye Sultan was remarried in 1663 (Sakaoglu) to Seytan Ibrahim Pasha. And he was also executed in 1685, while being governor of Buda. I would note that it is incorrect she married Gürcü Mehmed Pasha, he was husband of Murad IV’s granddaughter, daughter of Safiye Sultan, Rûkiye Sultan (d. early 1697). She died in March 1696 (Sakaoglu) or 1716 (Alderson). What problem did Mehmed IV had with Rûkiye Sultan, so he executed both her husbands?

Safiye Sultan married at least two times: in 1649 she married firstly Haydarzade Mehmed Pasha. She was recorded in 1655 gifts as Safie sultana moglie di Haidar Sade, figlia di sultan Mourad, and as his widow in 1662. It was false information that he married Ibrahim’s daughter Kaya, she never existed. Anyway, her next known marriage was in probably 1663 to Sari Hasan Pasha, during which she died. But according to Ragusian envoys, he was referred in 1670 as Hussain passa. She died before 1676.

Murad IV also had a daughter named Hafsa Sultan. Only thing known about her is that she married some Hüseyin Pasha (source: İslâm ansiklopedisi: İslâm âlemi tarih, coğrafya, etnoğrafya ve biyografya lûgati – cilt 8; page 646). Actually, if you see Türkischer Biographischer Index (page 489), you will see there were eight Hüseyin Pashas who were governors during reign of Mehmed IV (different than Deli Hüseyin Pasha).

There is possibility that Murad IV had a daughter named Ayşe Sultan, but I am reasonably sceptical about it. I will explain it later, when I make a discussion of daughters of Ibrahim and Mehmed IV, which is the hardest task. I don’t know when I will make that one because my academic year starts in ten days, and I need more time to research and observe the Sultanas from the second half of the seventeenth century. Anyway…I really tried hard to find some unrecorded marriages of these analysed Sultanas, I’m glad that I have determined at least one-two marriages of Ahmed I’s daughter Fatma we didn’t know, and also with daughters of Murad IV.

This is also a topic I’m very interested in.

I’m going to sum up everything so it’s easier to read. I am very sorry but it’s long.

Gevherhan Sultan binti Ahmed I

she was Ahmed I’s eldest daughter (child?), named in honour of his great-aunt Gevherhan Sultan binti Selim II, who was still alive at the time of the princess’ birth. She firstly married Öküz Kara Mustafa Pasha in 1611-1612 (when the pasha came back from Egypt). Mustafa Pasha died in 1620. She secondly married Topal Recep Pasha during Osman II’s reign, with whom had a daughter, Safiye Hanımsultan, probably born in 1630. Gevherhan died before July 1631 (Muharram 1040), when an imperial decision calls her “deceased”. The Ragusian diplomats were wrong when they listed “Guiheri” among Ibrahim’s sisters in 1642. Gevherhan had already died by then. This is confirmed by a harem register dated February 1638-39 in which her daughter Safiye is listed but not her. (I should probably make a gifset about this but I deleted all my gifmaking stuff DDDD:)

Atike Sultan binti Ahmed I

as of now, we don’t have solid evidence on her date of birth, except for Öztuna who says she was born around 1614 (but he also says she’s Kasım’s twin…). Interestingly, Tezcan in Searching for Osman says that she was married to “the son of Ekmekçizade Ahmed Pasha (d. 1618), most probably in 1618”. Unfortunately, I don’t know who that is because I couldn’t find his name. Anyway, in the early years of Murad IV’s reign, Atike married Kenan Pasha, as Giustiniani in 1627 says that “Chinan” was married to the sultan’s sister:

Per ultimi sedevan nel Divano doi altri cognati del re, l’uno Chinan, l’altro Mustaffà, ambidoi poco prima del mio partir spediti quello in Grecia et questo in Natolia sotto titolo de inquisitori con suprema auttorità contra le violentie et tirannidi che si commettevano in quelle provintie, ma in effetto per cavar da esse grosse somme de denari per le guerre contra il Persiano.

Koca Sofu Kenan Pasha died in 1652 and in the same year, according to Uluçay, she married Doğancı Yusuf Pasha.

About her death, Uluçay says nothing. Sakaoğlu, on the other hand, says she died before 1670, that is when Doğancı Yusuf Pasha died. According to Öztuna she died in 1674. Interestingly, when talking about Atike’s tomb, Evliya Celebi mentions her as “Kenan Paşa Sultanı, Ahmed Han kızı Buy’unaz Âtike Sultan”, as if her other marriage never happened (or maybe he was away from Istanbul and didn’t know about it). If only we could date the first volume of the Seyahatnâme we could estimate Atike’s death DD:

Ayşe Sultan binti Ahmed I

I too have found some new (to me) information while I was researching Mehmed III’s daughters. Tezcan in Searching for Osman says that she was only betrothed to Karakaş Mehmed Pasha:

Ayşe Sultan, after the death of her husband in 1614, was promised to Karakaş Mehmed Pasha, probably during the reign of Osman II as well. Yet the latter was killed in battle at Khotin in 1621, and she was married to Hafiz Ahmed Pasha.

You’re right in saying that it’s Osman II who married off Ayşe to Hafiz Ahmed Pasha, because that’s what the Venetian ambassador said in April 1622:

Continua tuttavia la Maestà sua gia molti giorni nel detto serraglio, dove ha dissegnato maritar in diversi, soggetti 200 di quelle donne che vi habitano, havendo anche concluso matrimonio di due sue sorelle; una fu moglie di Nasuf, in Cafis Bassa di Van, che hora si trova in viaggio di ritorno, et fu gia capitan del Mare…

It is interesting, though, that Uluçay said that they were engaged in 1626 and married in 1627 (probably because the pasha wasn’t in Istanbul). I wonder what happened in 1627 because I doubt that it’s the date of consummation… she would have been 22. In any case the marriage was consummated because it produced two sons: Sultanzade Mustafa Bey and an unnamed one who probably died as a baby.

I don’t think she married someone else between Hezargratlı Voynuk Ahmed Pasha (m. 1645-49) and İbşir Mustafa Pasha (m. 1655).

I too thought that İbşir Mustafa Pasha was Ayşe’s last husband but Ragusian diplomats mention a “Aise Sultana moglie di Suleiman Passa” on 28 July 1662, so maybe Öztuna is right in saying that her last husband was actually Malatyalı Koca Süleyman Pasha? On the other hand, Alderson says that the princess married to Koca Süleyman Pasha (also called Ermeni) was Murad IV’s daughter but, annoyingly, doesn’t give any sources.

According to Kütükoğlu, who wrote Malatyalı Koca Süleyman Pasha’s entry in the Islamic Encyclopedia, the Ayşe Sultan he married was Ibrahim’s daughter, adding that Alderson was mistaken in identifying her as a daughter of Murad IV. The only problem is he says that the princess was later married to İbşir Mustafa Pasha… which is impossible.

So, basically, everyone is confused.

Ümmügülsüm Sultan binti Ahmed I

I think it’s impossible to say when she was born. I don’t know who Kamil von Behr is and google didn’t give me any answers…

Anyway, I really don’t know who this Halil Pasha could be because he doesn’t have a nickname so he could be anyone. The one you found in Sicill-i Osmani is a contemporary of Murad IV and therefore of Ahmed I’s daughters so it could be him.

Fatma Sultan binti Ahmed I

So, I don’t know whether to trust everything Evliya Celebi said because he was known to exaggerate things.

Anyways, Çiçek says that in late March 1622 a sister younger than Ayşe married the governor of Damascus, Murtaza Pasha. Murtaza Pasha was governor of Damascus until 1623 (did he die? Who knows). However, in this register, Fatma is unmarried:

A privy purse register from 1622 gives the names of five unmarried princesses, who may be daughters of Ahmed, Osman II, and even Mehmed III: Ümm-i Külsum, Hanzade, Halime, Fatma, and Akile. (Tezcan, B. - Searching for Osman, p. 334, n. 58)

Of course it could have been written before March 1622 but Ayşe (who married Hafiz Ahmed Pasha at the same time) is not among these princesses. It’s interesting, though, that Atike too is absent.

P.S. Who was daughter of Kosem Sultan referred in letter she prepared for pasha in 1626 after she sent her daughter Fatma? She was never named. Historians made wrong assumption that it was Ayşe Sultan, because Hafiz Ahmed Pasha was Grand Vizier at the time, and they lacked information when did she married him, and with their free will chose is was Ayşe. I would made an assumption that she was most probably Ümmügülsüm. But still, we don’t know who this Pasha was…

Well, I mean, Peirce has identified the pasha. As Uluçay believes that Hafiz Ahmed Pasha and Ayşe were married in 1626, this letter makes sense.

In 1626 or thereabout she wrote to the grand vezir Hafiz Ahmed Pasha proposing marriage to one of her daughters: “Whenever you’re ready, let me know and I’ll act accordingly. We’ll take care of you right away. I have a princess ready. I’ll do just as I did when I sent out my Fatma.” Hafiz Ahmed became the third husband of Ayşe. (Peirce, Leslie P. - The Imperial Harem, p. 148)

I don’t particularly like the assumption that Peirce (or other historians) “with their free will chose Ayşe”. If the letter is dated 1626 ca and the grand vizier at the time was Hafiz Ahmed Pasha, then it’s only logical that Peirce (or others) say: she’s talking about Ayşe. I don’t see anything wrong with that tbh.

If Kösem is not talking about Hafiz Ahmed Pasha’s marriage, though, then the princess could be any unmarried princess in the harem at the time. As Valide Sultan and Regent she arranged all the marriages, not only her daughters’.

Şehid Ali Pasha… Alderson didn’t give any sources for that claim, and the only Şehid Ali Pasha I’ve found is Fatma binti Ahmed III’s husband (so he died in 1716).

Let’s move on to Dimitrie Kantemir’s book:

So, Kantemir wasn’t a contemporary. He lived in Istanbul in 1688-91 and again in 1693-1710. His work, Historia incrementorum atque decrementorum Aulae Othomanicae (History of the Rise and Fall of the Ottoman Empire), was written in Istanbul before 1710 and completed in Russia in 1717. This is what he says about a sister of Murad IV’s:

Murad IV’s Sister had four Husbands in one year, and not one of the Marriages appears to have been consummated. For as soon as the Nuptials were celebrated according to custom, they were accus’d of some crime, and put to death by the Emperor, and their Riches with all their effects assign’d indeed to the Sultana as his lawful Wife, but in reality brought into the royal Treasury (p. 179)

This quote is a little vague. It doesn’t say who this princess is and, most importantly, when this happened. We assume it happened during Murad IV’s reign but we don’t know that with certainty. Also, Fatma's marriage to Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha lasted at least four years, as Murad IV divorced them in 1628.

About Kaçanikli Mehmed Pasha, I have found in Kaçanikli Mehmed Paşa Vakfiyesi ve Kütüphanesi that he may have died before 1631:

Although it was reported that he died in 1631, according to the Divan-ı Hümayun records, he died before 1616 (Kul, 2013: 2001). (p. 1847)

Unfortunately I couldn’t get access to E. Kul’s PhD thesis “XVII. yüzyılda Üsküb şehri”, which is the source.

Anyway, let’s move on.

Tezcan in Searching for Osman says this:

During the reign of Murad IV, a daughter of Ahmed was married to Berber Mustafa Pasha; upon the execution of her husband, she married Sarrac Hasan Pasha. After the death of her second husband, she married Janpoladzade Mustafa Pasha, who was executed by the orders of Murad IV in 1045/1635-6. This princess seems to be Fatma Sultan, who, probably after some other marriages, married Melek Ahmed Pasha in 1662. Melek Ahmed Pasha, who died in the same year, was not her last husband. (p. 334, n. 58)

I’m almost sure that Sarraç Hasan Pasha and Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha are the same man:

When he entered the palace, Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha was a “saddle (saraç) apprentice”

Tezcan says that Sarraç Hasan Pasha was a protegé of Hacı Mustafa Ağa (”Mustafa Agha sponsored the careers of such men as the future grand vizier Tabamyassi Mehmed Pasha, the vizier and finance minister Hasan Pasha, and two other viziers Sarrac Hasan Pasha and Hamidi Mustafa Pasha). Well, Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha was a protegé of Hacı Mustafa Ağa too.

I know Tezcan’s thesis is about Osman II but Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha is never mentioned, not even as Kapıcıbaşı.

Also, it’s not true that Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha became Grand Admiral after his divorce with Fatma because Giustinian in 1627 calls him “Capitan del mare”, which is the Italian translation of Kapudan-ı Derya.

For some reason, though, Civelek and Çakır’s essay İhtiras ve Servetin Gölgesinde Bir Sultan: Fatma Sultan calls him Sarrac Mustafa Pasha. I couldn’t find anything about him.

About this: “Il Capitan del Mare si speta qua col primo bon tempo..., al quale si tiene per certo che e stata promessa la sultana vedova del Pascia morto a Scopie questa estate...”. Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha died on his way to Buda, on 1 August 1631 (some say poisoned by Topal Recep Pasha, as you said). I think he’s the pasha “morto a Scopie questa estate”

(I know Skopje is not in Greece but bear with me)

I don’t think the Ragusian diplomat is saying that that princess is the widow of the governor of Skopje, but that her husband simply died in Skopje that year (I first thought it had happened during a battle or a rebellion). It is certainly interesting that Çatalcalı Hasan Pasha died on 1 August 1631 on his way to Buda, between Yenişehir and Tırhala (Greece).

I know he and Fatma were already divorced but I think that’s only the way the Ragusian diplomat chose to refer to her (as princesses were most often referred to as wives of some pasha). Maybe with more sentences from that dispatch it becomes clearer.

Thanks to İhtiras ve Servetin Gölgesinde Bir Sultan: Fatma Sultan we found out that Fatma had a son with Koca Yusuf Pasha who was alive at least until 1671 when he was noted as one of her heirs, so that’s definitely new information.

As for new marriages, I wouldn’t change anything at the moment. I personally don’t think she kept remarrying so fast.

Let’s move on to Murad IV’s daughters.

Kaya Ismihan Sultan binti Murad IV

Alderson doesn’t give any source for this supposed marriage between an unnamed princess and Tüccarzade Mustafa Pasha (which, interestingly, he says happened in 1640). On the other hand, it’s documented that Kösem and the Grand Vizier blocked the marriage between Kaya and said Tüccarzade Mustafa Pasha (who was Silahdar Mustafa Pasha, yes):

The Queen mother and the Vizier who foresaw their inevitable ruin if they did not undermine this union by its principal foundation, asked Mustafa for fifteen hundred thousand crowns; Mustafa delivered this sum in less than fifteen days, but as he saw that his enemies, having found it so easy to pay it, still wanted to make him ask for new loans, he had them tell him that he knew well that their hatred desired his blood rather than his money, that he was ready to satisfy them, and that if conscience had not arrested his despair, he had already performed the office of the executioner that he expected at any time from them. Notwithstanding this abandonment, they did not have the boldness to undertake anything openly against his life, fearing to irritate the Princess his Lover and to raise the militia; But to make believe that they wished rather to change his condition into one amenable to his grief, than to ruin him, they asked him to resign his office of Capudan Pasha in favour of a Page of the Serrail named Yusuph, and gave him the Government of Buda, where he could more solitarily than at Court, vacillate to the resentment of his affliction. Mustafa to whom all things were indifferent, except tears and sighs, consented to all that was desired, and when he was countermanded on the road to Temisuar, he went thither without murmuring, although it is one of the smallest Governments of Romelia. Thus this inconsolable Pasha still drags out a languid life, in spite of his enemies who continually watch to ruin it, and in spite of the means that his grief employs to seek to die. (Les Voyage du Sieur du Loir, 124-26)

(Translation is a bit wonky I’ll admit it but I used Google Translate because old French is hard)

I do agree, though, that Kaya Ismihan was Murad IV’s eldest daughter (who survived infanthood). Foscarini in 1637 states:

Per quanto ho inteso di figliuole femmine il Re ne ha tre, la maggiore che è di nove anni, pare destinata per moglie al Bei Siclictar amata assai da Sua Maestà (Firpo, Relazioni, p. 766)

In 1640, Contarini says that Kaya is twelve years old. Considering that she was the only one with a betrothed, I’d say she was the eldest.

I don’t think that Naima quote proves that Kaya, in the end, married Silahdar Mustafa Pasha. I don’t think it happened at all. Also because Melek Ahmed Pasha too was a Silahdar so I think the two things were conflated into one and the author got confused. On the other hand, I think Evliya Celebi would have mentioned if Kaya had had a marriage before the one with Melek Ahmed Pasha.

I think it was Kaya’s betrothal with Tüccarzade Silahdar Mustafa Pasha which Alderson confused with a marriage.

Funnily, Öztuna says that Kaya had been betrothed as a baby to Abaza Mehmed Pasha (from the family of Melek Ahmed Pasha) but the pasha had been executed. She had then been betrothed to Hayder Ağazade Mehmed Pasha in 1643 but this betrothal too didn’t lead to marriage (He later married her sister Safiye). I don’t know how much of this is true.

About Hanzade binti Murad IV and Gevherhan binti Murad IV, @rhaenahanzades and I had reached the conclusion that Hanzade was Hanzade binti Ahmed I and Gevherhan was Gevherhan binti Ibrahim.

I personally think that Murad IV’s daughters who reached adulthood were Kaya Ismihan, Rukiye and Safiye.

Rukiye Sultan binti Murad IV

I agree that Abide binti Ahmed I didn’t exist, it seems to have been an oversight by some historians because some of Murad III’s daughters were very young (even infants) when he died, so it makes sense that they had long lives.

According to Ragusian diplomats, Rukiye had the following husbands:

Küçük Musa Pasha

Zelak Mustafa Pasha

Şeytân Divrikli Ibrahim Pasha, with whom she had two daughters

I’m going to be honest, I couldn’t find this Dellak Mustafa Pasha anywhere. I did look up what Dellak means and it seems quite the strange nickname to give a pasha because it means devil.

Anyway, I don’t think Mehmed IV had a specific problem with Rukiye but Ibrahim Pasha was executed in Belgrade in 1685 (according to Öztuna) so he was probably part of those executions Mehmed IV had ordered because of the failed Vienna siege. I know Wikipedia is not the best source but “Ibrahim of Buda” is listed among the Ottoman commanders under Grand Vizier Merzifonlu Mustafa Pasha.

Safiye Sultan binti Murad IV

Mmh, I think Safiye and Hafsa are the same person (Ragusian diplomats call her “Saffie” which could sound like Hafsa if you pronounce it Sàffie instead of Saffìe). While it’s true that Uluçay says she married Sari Hasan Pasha (possibly after Haydarağazade Mehmed Pasha), Öztuna says she married Abaza Hüseyin Pasha, and this seems to be confirmed by Ragusian diplomats who, in 1670, said she was married to Hussain Pascia

There is a Hafsa Sultan among Murad IV’s children in Devletler ve Hanedanlar but she seems to have died in infanthood.

[sluckythewizard]

YOU JUST HƎARD IT FROM [HIS MOUTH] FOR SURƎ!!!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY! PARTY TIME BABY! MUSIC! DRINKS! SOCIAL PRESSURE & A PSYCHEDELIC BREAK DOWN! WELCOME TO VAMPIRE SOCIETY MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET? ITS OKAY IF NOT. FIRE DISSOLVED IT! ITS ALL GONE NOW. HAVE FUN!

[maddestmewmew]

heartbreakingwarming: someone who is being a huge dick about some mediocre character designs does their own redesigns and its So Much Worse

[lawlietscaramels]

I get really chatty at this time for some reason. it's like the very end of the day for me and very few people are active

[masked-and-doomed]

Fucked up that most people's first time seeing the Conclave (in Sign rather than Vastedge) they're there. For some time. And then fucking die. Like yeah you're relevant to the whole fucking world of guilty gear. Skill issue tho, should've planned this better after nearly 200 years. Bye bye. Now let's move on !

At least Chronus has that one moment in Rev where he broke out Asuka... He did play a good background support role. Claps for Chronus. 👏

I wonder if Libraria would have done the same thing if she followed Chronus' words and took the Conclave's dream on her shoulders, being the one to live through it....

[crescentfool]

your art is amazing and im ready to jump deep into ryomina and im glad im not the only who saw the end has like gay subtexf

WAHH thank you so much for the kind words! congratulations on finishing reload- i'm glad to hear that you enjoy my work and that now you can enjoy all the ryomina fanwork out there! yippee!!

but seriously though you're so right. something that i come back to a lot with ryomina is how they're reunited in death- with minato becoming the seal and ryoji being able to accompany him for the rest of a lifetime. they have such a fun flavor because of the roles they play in the story and i'm glad you see that as well! (not to mention reload's additional content for them.) really, it makes me happy to hear you could see that with the art you reblogged from me :)

thank you again for the ask, may your week be incredibly lovely and kind to you! 💙

[dykerikki]

honestly the bioessentialism/cisnormativity/etc in amazon tv's the wilds might not have taken me as offguard as it did if i hadnt first seen it lauded online as being sooo queer and progressive. like sorry to be a buzzkill but i think when youre doing your free marketing for your uwu gay shows if theres concepts like "inherent male violence" and words like "gynotopia" that go completely unchallenged by the narrative youre being stupid and cruel to the community youre pushing to watch it

[moonsidesong]

Yo idk if this was answered but, while reading 14-Crush I wanted them to just confess but they never did before it ended. in cannon, will they ever confess or will they just forever be too shy.

i had kind of an idea for what i wanted to do eventually for a confession ? i knew the kind of mood i wanted it to have, but i didnt really have anything resembling a real script for a comic or anything. i dont even know When i would put it LOL in a hypothetical timeline where crush continued it probably still wouldve taken a while

[floorpancakes]

cooked up a little something for the hottest cold weather themed contest of the year!!!

ill do a write up about it later cause I haven’t slept for like 32 hours but for now….BEHOLD!

[petasse02]

Im so sad

I learned my eye candy had a girlfriend today and that means i can't stare at him anymore

Like how am i supposed to pass time in class now, and i can't stare at another girl's boyfriend that's a no no for me

But i think it'll be okay cause in my physics class yesterday i turned around and literally saw my future husband

I love arabs and that one was WOW nice lil beard good curls now i need to see how his style is (we were sitting so i couldn't see)

The thing is im very bad with faces so i might not recognize him

But he was super pretty so if i see him on campus again ill probably still think he's super pretty

[chisungie]

.

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ GOOD MORNING, BABY !! ❞

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko

☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!

who does it to tease you ↴

✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself

“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy." “aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...” “ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”

✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun

“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.” “oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.” “don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”

who does it because they are desperate ↴

✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.

“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!” “sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.” “oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”

✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.

“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.” “y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.” “'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”

who wakes you up ↴

✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.

“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?” “aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.” “did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”

✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.

“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.” “you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.” “so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[icelogged]

Hey I know maybe we started out on a wrong foot, so I figured I would bring you my best spiritual resources as a peace offering, since I am glad to know you enjoy studying religion, and I hope your much studying will help you find or further strengthen your relationship with God :) whatever God that may be for you !

Playlist of episodes of the Mahabarat free on youtube:

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLa6CHPhFNfadNcnVZRXa6csHL5sFdkwmV&si=br9BTM_3Pvhcyk01

Episodes of Ramayan free on youtube (not sure if it is rhe same one i watched):

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFr_jkwUp0hj606Y_dGpOuPF9WJ2CRe_t&si=FGtzz71u1lssIZhF

My own playlist of assorted spirituality videos you may find interesting:

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwxiUqgTQwChfu9eE6-ridYCnuESmbvES&si=ulbZufJLRUQcbKTh

(obviously I do not represent or encourage any or all acts or suggestions made in these videos, rather they are for educational purposes and for the enlightenment of the person studying said belief system and whatever belief system you utalize is valid and your business)

Have a blessed day :) ♡ /genuine 💕🍀

I'm sorry once again for my previous behavior. There are many people who hate religion just on principal and it's hard to know who is trolling and who is not. And sometimes it hurts when people insult something you genuinely believe in and that has helped you. But im glad to know you're not one of those people and I wish you much luck and understanding in your study :)

My most important knowledge I can impart is this:

Atman (higher self) = holy spirit

Avatar (krishna, jesus, buddha, ascended masters etc) = "sons" of God or God incarnate on earth

Brahma ("invisible sky daddy" lol)= God itself as a whole (manifest and unmanifest reality, all of earth and previously mentioned aspects)

Prophet of God: a human who can perform miracles on behalf of God but is not themself an incarnation literally of the divine on earth as Krishna or Jesus or Buddha, and other avatars of God, but carries the divine message and imparts messages from God to God's people

Also important to note is in hinduism separateness is an illusion, as Jesus and Krishna ask us to see the Lord in every creature, and shinto/animism belief systems take it a step further to say that every thing living or not has a spirit. And all of these are held within Brahma.

There is definitely more to impart, such as the overlap of selfless service in Christianity and hinduism (charity / dharma) and so this is all to encourage you that there are secret truths you shall find if you do not cease your journey toward God :)

Best of luck to you, my best wishes also ! Again, forgive me if I have offended you, and see this knowledge as a pure offering to you, that I wish you also to know God 💕💓💙

~Cicadas ♡

hai cicadas. again; no need to apologize. i personally did not have an issue with how you replied to me. no olive branch necessary.

[academic, not personal faith related] religious studies and my spiritual wellbeing are separate. yes at times they do overlap but i find purposely mixing the two doesn’t work for me, help strengthen connection, faith etc.

thank you for the resources

you as well and may the blessings extend to end of the year.

yeah. although it can be annoying in certain contexts, i don’t feel contempt towards those individuals. religion has been made into a weapon, the slashing ongoing— perhaps to the end; given human greed. there is much to hate. i respect their frustration with the organized violence religious institutions have and will continue to wage… i really “turn the other cheek” in those situations. i know where the behaviour can be attributed to. when it’s over the internet it’s too easy to disengage for me to get worked up. i don’t know these people, their opinions will not affect my life. anyways, i respect their feelings just as much as I respect those who are unapologetic about their faith.

yes. i can definitely agree. my nonchalant attitude could be related to my personality and health. i.e my emotional disconnects allow me to rarely take things too personally. i often forget that people are quite the opposite— those with RSD for instance, i just can’t fathom be affected by online strangers deeply in the context.

i’m sorry that you’ve felt insulted by the attitudes of others on the topic of something so intimately important. you can only control yourself, i hope that brings some comfort. that you despite it being mocked have a healthy and beautiful spiritual life.

thank you!! i’m literally buzzing with excitement about my upcoming scripture analysis class :33ccccc

yes.

i was was introduced to these figureheads using the godhead framework [father, son, holy spirit] and i still really enjoy thinking in threes that are of one whole but can be separated.

right

yes

neverrrr i’ll be the child and bride of god foreverrr

<3 u as well :33 it was sweet of you to reach out but i want to again clarify that i did not find your comments ultimately negative or offensive :D

thank you :3

i am very certain i will stay besties with the godhead forever n always :3

bye bye 🫀 god bless

[nmakii]

GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE

— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…

— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh

hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected

— alastor

alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…

though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!

and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…

a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.

so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.

absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…

at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.

he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.

he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.

when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.

“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.

he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.

but, he didn’t.

could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.

— lucifer

when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.

who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?

when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…

he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.

and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.

the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.

and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.

when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.

“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.

he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.

he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.

lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.

“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.

and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.

— vox

vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.

barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.

everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.

and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.

“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.

“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.

your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.

vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.

his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.

ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.

“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.

vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…

[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely sorry.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching. the look on his face is priceless—like he’s not sure if he’s about to follow a dream or walk into his worst nightmare. perfect, you think.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a full out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you want to fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can’t take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of her attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i���i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties