#or that she has the power to resurrect the fucking dead

[megamanofnumbers]

I'd like to share my thoughts on the latest episode of Otona, precisely in relation to two extremely gay and not-straight characters finally introduced into the series most concerned about being extremely straight and not-gay, but I fear if I do the entire fanbase will collectively come together to Hirogaru Sky Punch a hole right through the back of my face.

So I'll just say this: Nagihono fans, it's been an honor knowing you all.

Oh, and Shiny Luminous fans too.

[clownjacket]

If Kipperlilly DOES end up betraying Porter/Jace as part of a secret other scheme she has (whether good or evil) and it has to do with saving Lucy, I just know she’s going to be a bitch about it and pull a ‘sorry, I only save High Five Heroes’ before leaving her other friends to die or some shit. And then she will take her final form: Magic Betty from Adventure Time, betraying her allies and saving her frost gf at the expense of the world. It would also parallel what Ankarna is going through (‘your girlfriend’s out of town, it sucks’, becoming a little imperialist rage machine under the influence of Porter/Sunstone but not being able to fully turn on Lucy despite going against her values and turning into a violent weirdo). This is my wish. My dream. I am manifesting it. Magic Betty Kipperlilly I believe in you.

[deer-with-a-stick]

I think someone should just throw all of the BG3 companions into Dungeon of the Mad Mage. Just take the post-canon generally considered "good" endings and throw em in there.

Why? Because it would be hilarious to me and also that's like the one official module that goes up to level 20.

I won't lie and say the only thing I can think of is the team trying to kill an angry mechanical purple worm while screeching at Gale because "what do you mean we're in Waterdeep and you know the bastard who owns this death trap?? I was perfectly alright in the damn Underdark thank you very much I did not sign up for this"

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.5 - Eclipse

Chaewon x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)

The nightmares won't stop.

Ever since your return from the underworld, you always find yourself back in the gloomy land of the death in your sleep. The unnerving faces of the skeletal warriors haunt your dreams and sometimes even the three headed beast. The drawbacks of being chosen by the Mark of Asmodeus are just as powerful as its upsides.

These horrible dreams are just one of your numerous problems and it's not even the worst one. There's the fact that you have become the underworld's most wanted and you don't want to think about what will happen if Hades found out you have banged his wife and stolen his helmet. In a way, she's the one who started it all but you doubt you can reason with an angry god. You might have just booked a guaranteed spot in the fields of punishment. Or even somewhere worse. Dying is the last thing on your mind right now and that's speaking from experience.

Having the mark seems like a blessing at first but you are starting to feel the consequences of bearing such power. Sure, it helps you screw angels and godesses but on the other hand, those are all the glamours to hide one single truth. You are just a servant of Eros. Maybe not like the cherubims but you have to carry out his so called quests and that blonde brat doesn't even explain the reasons behind all this. A god stealing another's god possesion doesn't really seem like a good prank. Or maybe Eros thinks it is.

After going through the quest and bearly coming back alive, you seriously start to reconsider the choice you have made. Eros have given you the life any mortal would wish for - one where you no longer need to worry about surviving everday and making ends meets. You don't even need to jerk yourself off anymore if you get horny. You can just call Lisa to do your bidding. Now, they don't really seem like a fair compensation for the job you have to do. You might sound like an ungrateful bastard but after dying, resurrecting and losing sleep for a week straight, anyone would start to get agitated. The feathery bed isn't much help and neither are Lisa's blowjobs. You even start to get tired of waking up to your dick shoved in the angel's throat and that's a lot coming from a pervert like you.

As you wake up in cold sweat from the usual torment of your dreams one afternoon, you decide you have suffered enough and set out to find a way; anyway to fix your problem. You would have asked Eros for help if he has not been missing for over a week since you return from the quest. (Fuck you, Eros) None of his angels have any idea where he is. Not even Kazuha. The only contact you have had so far is that message about 'taking the virginity of a goddess'. Frankly, you are not in the mood to use your lightsaber dick again. The helm of darkness you have stolen is nowhere to be found either. Your best guess is that Eros took it with him.

As if to mock your suffering, a storm have been raging outside forever. The building might shift from one place to another but the weather doesn't seem to be getting better anytime soon. The rhythm of raindrops splattering the glass along with the roar of thunder make an ugly backdrop as you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up.

Looking at the mirror, you find yourself looking like a ghoul - sunken eyes and ghostly pale. The insomnia have taken quite a toll and you wouldn't be surprised if your heart just stop beating at some point. Even the mark can't save you from that.

You let the cold tap water wash away the drowsiness though you know it will eventually return at some point. Still, it's better than nothing. You desperately need some kind of escape. Something to stop you from being a dead man walking. The jacuzzi might help except the fact that you are too tired to set everything up. The television is just as useless, playing rom-coms or lovesick songs in every channel. (Fuck you, Eros)

There's your phone too, which might have just become the most useless gadget after Eros have restored it. Apart from the lovey dovey wallpapers that change without your consent, the connection is awful here. A literal god owns this place and he can't even afford a decent wifi. Totally ironic. Maybe Eros can live off watching Titanic everyday but he can't seriously expect others to have the same horrible taste as him. (Fuck you, Eros)

With the lack of entertainment, you are left with the only choice to wander around the building. So far, you have discovered a corridor in the hall that leads to a sauna and another to an art gallery full of paintings by different renowned artists. There's even the Mona Lisa which looks too real for a replica. You wonder how Eros manages to get his hands on that one. However, all the doors that line the wall apart from your room's are locked tight and they are all diffetent designs and colours. There's even a vault door. The strangest thing, however, is the fact that even though the building easily looks more than ten storey tall, you can't find a way to go to the other floors. There are no stairs nor elevator. When you asked Kazuha about it, she simply shrugs.

Speaking of Kazuha, you have found a couple other angels apart from her and Lisa. Obviosuly they are all in the forms of idols from different gens. You even saw a few first gen ones. Most of them tend to stay away from you like some sort of infectious disease and you are ok with that. You have had your fair share of experience with their kind who wants you dead and you are not ready to relive the experience. So far, Kazuha is the only one you can communicate with and for Lisa, she uses her mouth in other tasks.

After freshening up, you put on one of those designer shirts and khakis in your wardrobe and exit the room. There's no need to lock the door because there isn't even a doorknob. It swing opens when you get near. Just another thing that doesn't make any sense around here. The marble statue of Eros in the hall with that smug grin on his face gets you even more riled up. You already have enough reason to hate the god and adding another to the list doesn't exactly help.

You turn the narrow corridor into the main room, where you have first landed on your arrival. The room is eerily quiet — the silence only penetrated by the ocassional crackling of thunder. All the lights have been turned off —the flashes of lightning momentarily illuminating the room, derived of its usual cheerful atomosphere now replaced by a dreaful one. The whole thing reminds you of the gloom of the underworld and the thought makes your stomach churns.

Near the glass wall, you spot a dark figure with its back turned, peering over the landscape of ancient Pompeii with the volcano that brought the city's demise looming in the distance. Turns out the building can teleport to lost civilizations too. Arcs of electricity flare through the dark sky and the brief glow reveals the figure as Kazuha.

In her white sport tops that display her figure perfectly and the raven hair flowing over her back, she really does look like an angel. In normal circumstances, you would have gotten hard seeing her tight ass in those jeans but currently, your hazy mind won't allow you the pleasure.

"You are awake" Kazuha says without turning her back, the sudden intrusion catching you off guard.

"I doubt you can call me that" you reply, pouring yourself a glass of water from the jar on the kitchen counter. Hopefully, it isn't sweet like the rest of Eros's snacks here.

"Still having nightmares?" Kazuhas asks, though her tone lacks the sympathy.

"They won't stop since my return from the underworld" you admit. "I just wanna die"

"Trust me, there are worst things waiting for you after death. You won't really be the most welcomed soul in the underworld"

"I guess so" You take a sip from the glass. Thankfully, the water tastes normal.

"What you have done have serious consequences" Kazuha turns around, arms folded. In the dim light, her expression is unreadable. "You have stolen the power symbol of a god. That's like putting pineapples in a pizza. You have insulted him"

Kazuha's serious tone makes you hold back the protest about your opinion on pineapple pizza. You don't want to get smitten. "Hey, it's not my fault.That was all Eros's idea"

"It might be his idea but you are still the one who did the deed. You will be pointed out as the culprit regardless if you intend it or not"

"Wonderful" you sneer. "I'm starting to hate this 'apostle' job even more. It should have been called 'errand boy' "

"Think positive. Not many people gets to fuck the queen of the underworld"

If Kazuha is trying to comfort you, it's not helping. "Sure because it turns out great. I shouldn't have taken this job in the first place. Congrats! You have the mark of Asmodeus! Now you can go around banging gods and stealing things for me!"

Kazuha doesn't flinch at your sarcastic remark. If it's possible, the darkness of the room looks thicker around her. "It's too late to back out now. And it's still your first real quest. Eros still have many plans for you"

You snicker. "Let me guess. More quests that involves burgling? Won't be surprised if I have to steal the holy grail next. Anyway, where's Eros?"

"No idea" Kazuha replies, furrowing her brows. "He said he's out to plan the next part of your quest but I haven't got any contact from him"

"Would be great if he never comes back"

"Watch your words" Kazuha scowls and thunder roars, lighting up the sky. "The gods are angry. They are searching for you in every corner of the earth. You would be dead already if you are in any other place"

"Should I be honoured?" Yet another saracstic remark. At this point, you don't even care anymore.

"Are you kidding me? We are in serious trouble right now. Gosh, that idiot Eros. If he gets caught somehow......" Kazuha drifts off and the fear in her voice gives birth to a strange sense of distress within you. If an angle is panicking, you are in even more trouble then you initially thought and even that's a shit ton of trouble already.

"Hold on. Are you actually worried about Eros right now? That dick?" It's no way to address your boss but it's not like he's around. On one hand, perhaps he is. Afterall, he's a god. He might have super hearing or something. You push the thought aside. No use cramming your brain with one more dreadful thought.

"You don't get it" Kazuha exhales, her stoic face softening just a notch lower. "Sure, he's not exactly the boss of the year but it's not like I have a choice. Being an angel is not all rainbows and sunshines like you mortals think. Especially not when you have to serve a god who's always finding new ways to brew up trouble. If the gods find out Eros is behind all this.... ." Kazuha pauses, conisdering her choice of words. "Let's just say it will have dire consequences on me too"

"What do you want me to do then?" You ask, being rational for once.

"Obviously try not to get you killed. Without you Eros's big plan will go up in smoke-" Kazuha quickly stops, realizing she has slipped her tongue but it's too late.

"What plan?" You ask. You are already sick and tired of this mysterious game Eros's playing. If you are gonna be a part of it, at least you need to know your role in it clearly.

"Look, it doesn't matter. What's important is that you stay alive and complete your quests with the help of your mark. Everything will be revealed at the right time"

"So what? Am I just some kind of-" Your complaint is cut short as the whole building shakes as if an earthquake has come out of nowhere. You would have fallen face first if you haven't hold onto the kitchen counter. Kazuha isn't so lucky. The angel is thrown off balance and land with her back onto the hard marble floor. Seeing the wince on her face, it seems like angels are no different from humans when it comes to tolerating pain.

"Fuck" Kazuha curses as she gets up, rubbing her back. "They are here"

Without a doubt, you know 'They' could be nothing but trouble. Anything that brought an earthquake along with their entrance couldn't be anything pleasant. But you ask the question anyway. "They?"

Kazuha must have been thinking the same thing because her expression shifts between uncertainty and panic, finally settling on fear. "The Hunters. They-" The building shakes again and this time, the power cuts off. Every single source of light dies out, leaving you surrounded by darkness in every corner. Strangely, the experience reminds you off the darkness that comes before you pass out when you use the 'Ero' app. You can't decide whether it is a good thing you are not losing your consciousness this time.

"Stay still" You hear Kazuha's voice from somewhere in front of you. It's hard to say where exactly because even the flashes of lightning can't seem to penetrate the murk. Sensing Kazuha's the best chance in whatever is happening, you obey without questioning.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be back" This time the voice comes from behind, sounding more and more distant as Kazuha leaves the room. You are left alone in the dark room with nothing to do but stare at the skyline of Pompei beyond the glass wall. Your terror is nothing compared to what those citizen might have felt when they saw lava raining down on their city. Still, you are barely containing the urge to run after Kazuha.

A minute passes, then two, then a couple more. The silence is deafening, only interrupted by the splatter of raindrops and the ocassional claps of thunder. As you start wondering what's taking Kazuha so long, the building trembles once again and you, deep in thought, isn't able to react fast enough this time and go sprawling across the floor. Luckily, you land on your knees and the fall isn't too painful though it leaves your legs feeling like jelly.

Somewhere far away, you hear something explode followed by the clashing sound of metal against metal. As you lift yourself off the floor, battle cries flood into the room as if a battle is taking place right at this moment. The corridor is light up by a momentary burst of white light and what you see in that split second confirm your thoughts.

Kazuha has her gladius pressed against the blade of a female dressed in black, the flickers of light dancing around them whenever their weapons clash. It's hard to say who's winning because all your eyes can catch are bits and pieces of the duel. But it doesn't seem to be the only one because farther behind, you can catch glimpes of numerous colourful gleams that vanish as quick as they disappear. If you are doubting before, you know now. The place is under attack.

And what do the chosen one with the mark of Asmodeus do? Stand and watch, of course. It's not like you can just activate the mark anytime. And even if it does activate, you doubt you can fuck your way out of this. At this instant, you really wish the mark provides you with some sort of power apart from being a universal impregnator.

The gleams from the clashes scattered around the building becomes more frequent. From time to time, you would see white humanoid shapes of light combusts with a sound like a thousand firrworks exploding at once. Light means angels and if they are blowing up, it's deifinitely not good news.

Kazuha's still locked in clash with the warrior dressed in black. Their duel is moving dangerously close to where you are standing and you back off until you are pressed against the glass wall. Kazuha's opponent doesn't give her any time to think, bringing down strikes after strikes which Kazuha's barely managing to block with her own weapon. With the glow that Kazuha's gladius continuously cast, you finally manage to make out the features of the warrior. She looks no older than 25 with bob hair that sways with each of her fluid movements. After seeing the cheetah like facial features with another glow, you have no doubt. It's Chaewon, the leader of Le Sserafim, trying to kill her own member. You know both of them are obviously not the real idols but still, it's pretty fucked up.

You have no time to make the whole thing make sense because Kazuha's getting closer and closer to the glass wall with every second. Chaewon doesn't waver, each strike of her sword precise and deadly. On the other hand, Kazuha's momvements are growing sluggish. Any moment now, she's gonna be impaled by Chaewon's sword.

Sensing the impending doom, you do the stupidest thing possible. "Hey" you call and Chaewon, oblivious of your presence in the dark, turns her head just for a split second. Kazuha seizes the opportunity, kneeling Chaewon in the stomach, the force throwing her off-balance and down to the floor. Kazuha raises her gladius for the finishing strike until-

"Enough!" A woman's voice booms and the whole building flood with light. Not from the overhead lighting though. It is as if the place has been enveloped in a silvery cocoon of light; warm and pale.

Before you can process what's happening, a sharp cold edge press onto your throat. Chaewon gives you a wistful smile, moving her blade father up your chin. Your eyes dart to her feet, where Kazuha lays sprawled out. As she begins to get up, Chaewon points the gladius in her other hand at Kazuha. In this millisecond, she has managed to tackle Kazuha and seizes her weapon. How she did it, you have no idea. "Follow me" she orders. "Both of you"

Left with no choice, you oblige, walking along the narrow corridor into the circular hall with Kazuha as Chaewon follows closely behind. You wonder why Kazuha can't just snap her fingers and teleport both of you out of here. Afterall, she's a fucking angel. But seeing her worn out face and her slumped shoulder, you doubt she can even summons a spark.

The whole hall smells like someone have forgortten to turn off the stove. Multiple bodies of unconscious idols aka angels, scatter the floor. Inky scorch marks imrpinted on the floor where they lay. You cough, trying to eject the smoky smell that enters your lungs. The statue of Eros in the center has been sliced in half so it now looks more like a mixture of amputated legs and a wing. This might just be the only benefit this whole destruction brings. To you, at least.

The strangest sight, however, are the warriors. There's at least 10 of them, postioned around the disfigured statue of Eros, swords strapped to their backs. All of them wear the same outfit as Chaewon; black crop tops and jeans. Then you realize it's not just their clothes that match. Everything about them does. In other words, all of them are Chaewon. Each one a perfect replica of the other.

There's one that stands out though. She's also Chaewon but in a different outfit; an emerald green mesh top and a leather skirt. A chain necklace dangles over the opening at the upper part of her top. She doesn't have any weapon but that doesn't make her any less intimidating. You can feel the pure energy radiating off her, making your skin tingle. Instantly, you realizes she's the one who has stopped the battle with the slivery glow. Beside her kneels none other than your boss, Eros, his toga ragged and dirty. His once beautiful face is now full of cuts and his blonde hair a tangled mess. A golden chain bind his hands to his back. Nevertheless, the god gives you a smug grin as soon as he spots you like this is a very normal occurence.

"My Lady" The Chaewon holding you hostage walks forward and kneel before the different Chaewon. "I have brought him"

The green top Chaewon moves forward, her eyes fixed on your exhausted form. "So, you are the infamous one" she muses. Much to your surprise her voice comes out deep and cold, different from the warrior Chaewon. "You give us quite a lot of troubles upstairs, you know. Not gonna lie, I was kinda impressed. Coming back from the death is one thing but raping a goddess and stealing a possession of a god? That's pretty badass"

You don't know if she's praising you or being saracsstic. It's hard to tell with that stoic expression on her face.

"Hey, don't give him all the credits! I did most of the work" Eros calls from behind. This guy is still cracking jokes in a life or death situation. You wish you have that kind of courage.

Chaewon gives him a glance and the corner of her lips nearly curves into a smile but she quickly sheathes it. "Sure, you do. If you haven't sneaked up to my dimension with that little helmet of yours, it would have taken me longer to find Michael here. Thank you"

"You are welcome" Eros replies, his face showing no sign of fear or anger. "Maybe you can get me out of these chains, if you are actually thankful"

Chaewon ignores him and continues. "It would be such a shame to get rid of someone so powerful. But the mark brings nothing but trouble. This time is no different from the last"

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused.

"You are not the first one to possess the mark. The one before you..." she trails off. "Nevermind. It's not like you need to know. You are going to die anyway"

Your tongue loses the ability to speak. Normally, you would have begged or try to strike a deal. But this time it's different. Chaewon isn't like all those otherworldly beings you have met before. She shows no signs of hostility yet you know she will stay true to her words. A moment of silence passes before you gather your thoughts again and ask.

"Who are you?" The first question that comes to your mind. You are not even sure if you have the permission to ask someone as powerful as her. Nevertheless, curiousity killed the cat.

"Artemis" Kazuha interrupts before Chaewon can answer your question. "Goddess of the hunt"

"And the moon" Chaewon adds. "Very good, dear. You did your homework"

Not the first goddess you have met but you feel like this is the first one who lives up to her status. The last one you have met is pretty powerless apart from being able to summon some plants. Artemis is a stark contrast compared to Persephone.

"And them?" You ask, gesturing at all the other Chaewons in the hall.

"They are my hunters" Kazuha explained . "My soldiers and my sisters"

If she means sisters literally, you absolutely believe it because they look no different from each other.

"You speak too highly of your group of virgins" Eros voice appears once again. Chaewon shoots him a sharp glare and you realize Eros have struck a nerve there.

"Don't you dare speak ill of our pure maidenhood" The fury in Chaewon's voice makes you take a step back. If she starts doing whatever a goddess do when she gets mad, you don't want to be in the line of fire.

"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in living for milleniums and not getting laid even once? I get you hate men and all but you don't need to go this far" Eros pushes on and Chaewon's brows creases into an icy stare.

"We are hundred percent better than you filthy men" Chaewon snaps. "All of you are no different from pests compared to us. Fragile and weak. You, a minor god, have no right to question my choice"

What Chaewon's saying is starting to sound more and more like a feminism lecture. And if she's a goddess, that means she might be the oldest feminist in existence. An alpha feminist? The idea wrecks your brain cells.

"Oh, really? Hmmm...let's see. The first person to walk on the moon is a man. So is the one who invented electricity. Not to mention every single president of the United States are men. What else?"

For the first time, Eros words doesn't have any of his usual mischief. Hearing how he retaliates Chaewon (or Artemis, whatever) insults factually, you feel a tinge of admiration for the guy. Maybe even a bit of respect.

Chaewon's face turns a deadly hue of red, clearly not expecting a sensible retort from Eros. "I should have finished you long ago. You talk too much for your own good" Chaewon extends her arm and out of thin air, a faint silvery glow starts to manifest, soon taking the form of a recurve bow; curved out of what you guess is a mixture of bronze and gold. She holds the grip tight and pulls the string, summoning a glowing arrow of light along the path.

Chaewon has resort to violence, not being able to make a comeback from Eros's argument. She aims the luminous tip of the arrow right at Ero's chest, ready to strike down at any moment. Anyone would be terrified out of their wits if they were at arrowpoint but apparently, it's not the case for Eros, who's still smiling like a madman.

"Aren't gods like...immortal or something?" You whisper to Kazuha.

"They are" Kazuha replies. "That is....until someone take them down with the sufficient force"

"Must suck"

You are beginning to see the true nature of those otherworldly beings more clearly. Angels and gods; the figures of power are just as fragile as any mortal.

"Seriously, Artemis? You bring a weapon to a debate? Come on" Eros whines and Chaewon pulls the bowstring so taut it threatens to snap in half.

"Spare me your nonesense, Eros. Your job here is done. You are no longer needed" With those final words, Chaewon prepares to strike Eros down until-

"Woah woah woah. Hold on" Eros falters, his tone no longer mocking though it still has a mischevious edge. "How about we make a bet?"

Chaewon scoffs. "You can stall all you want Eros. I have all the time in the world"

"Look, we both have our opinions and views. Let's see who can prove their point"

If Eros is blabbering more gibberish to delay the inevitable, it works because Chaewon lowers ber bow. "Go on"

"Let Michael participate in your tribunal games" Eros says. "And if he can defeat your hunters, you have to let us go"

Chaewon is speechless for a moment then breaks into laughter. Even some of her hunters join in. "Eros, I know you are an idiot but this is beyond madness"

Eros ignores the insult. "Michael is a male so if he can defeat your hunters, that will prove my point. If he's defeated, then I will admit you are right"

You feel like a toddler in the middle of adult talk. As usual, you have absolutely no idea what they are talking about. They might as well be speaking in a foreign tongue.

"Hold up. I have no idea-"

"Think again Eros" Your interruption is reinterrupted by Chaewon. "I can give Michael a painless death here. If he's in the games, well, not so much"

"Scared?"Eros questions, tilting his head.

An expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement flashes across Chaewon's face. "Your little friend Michael is the one who should be scared. You are sending him to a place of no return"

With each word of the conversation, your panic level rises. Whatever place they are talking about, you are certain it's not an amusement park.

"Why don't we just get to the point? Yes or No?"

"Alright, if you are that eager let's do it" Chaewon instantly shoots back.

"I hope you keep your words, Artemis"

"Speak for yourself"

"Oh, I'm a man of my words" Eros says it like something so obvious.

Chaewon raises her arm. "Alright, I will-"

"Wait!" Eros calls. "There's one condition"

"What is it again?" Chaewon glares, the frustration evident in her tone.

"Michael will be up against ten of your hunters and you, a goddess. Don't you think it's a bit unfair?"

"It has always been the way" Chaewon answers. "And it will always be"

"But Michael isn't like the rest of your tributes right? He's not a rapist nor a cheater" Eros complains.

"Yeah, like he didn't rape a fucking goddess"

You hear Chaewon swears for the first time and for a moment, you almost want to chuckle. The sound of a curse on the ever well mannered goddess's tongue comes out so odd.

"Yeah but it's not completely his fault" Eros inists. "And don't you have beef with Persephone or something?"

Chaewon thinks for a moment. "It's not like I like that snobby underground goddess anyway. Fine, Michael can choose a partner. If there's a partner for him to choose that is, and obviously not you, Eros"

You are surprised at how quickly Chaewon changes her mind. It's like Eros knows just the right keys to turn to bend people's well. Maybe it's a part of being a love god.

"Fine by me" Eros replies. "Since you murdered all my angels except one, Kazuha, you accompany Michael in the games"

Is that fear you see in Kazuha's eyes? You can't be sure but there's no denying what's up ahead can't be anything pleasant.

"What's happening?" You ask Kazuha but she just purses her lips as if muffling a scream. Not a good sign at all.

"Don't worry, Michael. Kazuha will explain it to you once you are in the games. For now, goodbye. Don't die"

With that last message, Eros turns his eyes down to the floor.

"Alright" Chaewon turns towards you. "Let's begin"

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

After a week, you finally get to be in some place other than the shifting alive penthhouse of Eros.

With a snap of her finger, Chaewon blurs the surroundings and when your eyes come back into focus, you find yourself in a different place.

The first thing, you notice is the silence. So silent that it's deafening. It doesn't sit quite right with the forest that looms all around you. Dark wouldn't be the right word to describe the place despite the fact that not a spot of sunlight penetrates the violet leaves of pine-like trees that rises to the sky. The entangled branches reminds you of old withered hands. It doesn't make the place any less creepy.

A dim glow like the one back in Eros's place envelopes the whole place, casting faint shadows here and there. The air is cool but not pleasantly so. It's the kind of cool that gives you the chills before something disastrous happens. The air smells like a mixture of freshly baked cookies and toast. Compensation for the whole haunted atmosphere of this place, perhaps. You look down and find yourself knees deep in the tall grass that covers every single inch of ground. Thankfully, you didn't choose to wear shorts.

"Over here" Kazuha voice snaps you out of your thoughts. She stands, propped by a tree nearby. Her eyes dart around as if a predator will emerge at any moment and that can possibly be the case. You make your way towards her, which is not really easy with all the grass brushing against your legs.

"Alright. I'm sure this isn't where Artemis send people for vacation. Can I get some explanation now?" You demands. If you are going to be a part of whatever game Eros made you play, you are gonna need answers.

Kazuha looks around like she's checking for anyone eavesdropping. "We don't have much time so listen carefully" she begins. "As you already know, Artemis is a maiden goddess which means she vows never to give up her virginity"

You remember Eros's message about taking the virginity of a goddess. Did he mean Artemis?

"So are her hunters. They vow their absolute loyalty to Artemis and to preserve their maidenhood. In return, they gain eternal youth and immortality"

"Does being turned into Chaewon comes with the package?"

"I don't know. Ask them next time" Kazuha shrugs off your question. "In the old days, when a man commits a crime against a woman; say a rapist or a cheater, Artemis makes them play her tribunal games"

"Is that like the ancient vesion of hunger games?"

You can swear Kazuha almost smiles. "In a way, yes. She takes them into her 'verse' and-"

"Hold on. Verse?" You ask.

"Dimensions created by the gods. Remember the places you get taken by the 'Ero' app? They are the verses of Eros. Or Eroverses, like he calls them. This place, is a verse of Artemis"

"Ok, get it"

Seriously, Eros should take notes from Artemis how to actually create a verse that's not a tiny room or a boxing ring with a deadly angel.

"So, here's how the tribunal games work" Kazuha continues. "Artemis takes her chosen prey into her verse and her and her hunters hunt down the unlucky guy"

"Great, how do we beat it?"

"That's the problem. We don't. The game ends when the guy dies"

"Wonderful" you remark in saracsm. "So we just wait till they kill me?"

"Don't be rudiculous. We need to keep moving. At least until we find out what to do. Afterall, you are the chosen one"

Right. Chosen one, you think. The chosen one with a magic dick that's pretty useless most of the time.

"Aren't you an angel? Can't you just get us out like you did when Yeji tries to kill me?"

"I can't" Kazuha answers. "This verse has its own rules set by Artemis. Apparently, they don't favour angels. And even if I can get you out of here, I won't. Because then Artemis will kill us all"

"Well...let's take a walk" You stride ahead into the forest, trying to enjoy nature for perhaps, the last time ever.

"Wait up" Kazuha calls, running after you. You stop to turn around.

"This whole place is full of traps. One wrong step and you are doomed. After me" Kazuha walks past, each of her steps slow and calculated. You follow her pattern as you wander deeper into this deadly playground of Artemis.

After a few minutes, you notice the place isn't completely silent like you thought before. The faintest rustle of grass would emerge evert few seconds. Earlier, you haven't noticed it but now with the air eerie with the threat of making one wrong move, it's as clear as ever.

"What's that sound?" you whisper to Kazuha.

"Shhh" She brings her index to her lips, gesturing you to shut up. "Just keep moving"

A few more minutes go on. There still isn't a change in scenery. The place stays cold and haunted with the gloom the pines cast. The silvery light a reminder of Artemis's absolute power.

Despite the cool of the place, you start sweating. Maybe it's the fear. The fear of not knowing what to fear. You still haven't run into anything dangerous or lethal till now and you feel like your luck is going to run out anytime.

After a few more minutes, your whole body is drenched with sweat. Your feet feels like they are on fire. "Can we stop for a while? It's getting.....tedious" you pant. Kazuha gives you a look that means seriously?

"Fine, we can rest. But just a few minutes" Kazuha plops down at the base of a tree, her eyes still scanning the surroundings. Even now, she's still as alert as ever.

You follow suit, taking your place beside her. You blow out a puff of hot air. "Why aren't they grouping up on us yet?" you ask.

"The hunters? Oh, Artemis likes to take her time. Waits for her victims to feel safe enough. She strikes when they least expect it. That's why I'm keeping my eyes and ears open" Kazuha answers and you can't help but notice the fatigue in her voice. She's tired too. She just hides it better.

"So does Artemis hate men in general or is there a specific reason?"

"No idea" Kazuha's eyes land on you. You know it's not the time but you can't help but admire her gorgeous facial features. And her exposed tummy.... "All I know is she rejoices in proving herself better than your kind in quite.....brutal ways"

"Forget I ask" Then you suddenly remember what Artemis have said. "Artemis said I'm not the first one to possess the mark. Is it true?"

A solemn expression loom over Kazuha's face. Her fingers toy with the grass covering the ground. "It's better if you don't know. Trust me"

Just then a cold breeze brush your face. The feeling is pleasant, almost soothing enough to make you forget about the danger you are in. Not a second apart, a sound similar to a boiling kettle emerges.

"Duck!" Kazuha yells.

A silvery arrow cuts through the air with alarming speed and if you were just a nano second late, it wouldn't be the tree's trunk the lethal tip impales in.

"Kazuha, you are an angel" you praises.

"Run!" Before you know it, Kazuha is sprinting ahead and you have to use every ounce of strength left to match her speed. It doesn't help that more arrows are heading your way and it's getting harder and harder to avoid them.

Your speed wavers and another flock of arrows rain down on top of you. You embraces yourself for the pain but with a shimmer, all of them go up in flames. No doubt the work of Kazuha.

"Kazuha, you are an..."

"Shut the fuck up" Kazuha catches an arrow in mid air and snaps it in half. "Keep moving!"

You don't stop running. Neither do the arrows which keeps chasing you down. One grazes your shoulder and you stumbles from the stinging pain. Nevertheless,Kazuha grabs you from the arms and keep you moving.

Your lungs are on fire. Your legs are on the verge of giving out. The will to survive is the only thing that keeps you going and even that's starting to fade. Surprisingly, you find yourself wishing for the mark of Asmodeus to emerge. Not for sexual purpose but rather for protection.

Suddenly, Kazuha halts and you run straight into her back, sending you sprawling on the grass.

"Why do you-"

Your question is cut short when you realize why Kazuha has stopped. Right in front of her, standing on a small hill is none other than the goddess Artemis herself.

"At last" she makes her way slowly towards you. "Eros's little pet is cornered"

You get back to your feet and when you turn around, you find out she's right. The hunters have formed a ring around you, their bows drawn.

"So much for Eros's talk about men being superior" Chaewon flicks her wrists and silvery light dance between her fingers. "Such weaklings"

You search Kazuha's face for any sort of reassurance. But there's no hope. She has already told you she's pretty much powerless here. Is this finally the end for the great one?

"Finish the angel first" Chaewon orders. "I will take care of our little Michael here"

The hunters act instantly. All of them draw their blades and charge towards Kazuha. Amidst the chaos, you can't help but wish for the mark to emerge. You are at the brink of death once again, why has it not shown itself?

Kazuha summons a blazing sword of light in an attempt to reflect the rapid strikes of the hunter but even she can't hold out against ten angry feminists. One slash cuts across her arm and another graze her abdomen. Golden blood pours out from the wounds.

Meanwhile, Chaewon is making her way towards you gracefully, taking her time. In her hand, she twirls a double edged sword. Her gaze icy cold, a hint of amusement within them.

"You know, I thought it would be harder" Chaewon muses. "With your mark and all"

Yeah, the mark. The blessing which betrays you in most desperate time.

"Where's your little mark, hmm? Or is it too scared to make its appearance?"

"You are not playing fair" you replies. Nearby, a hunter kneels Kazuha in the ribs and she stumbles.

"Who said anything about playing fair?" Chaewon steps slow as the distance between you narrows. "If you want to blame, blame Eros"

She stops and studies you like a predator capturing its prey last moment. Then with a flick of her fingers, she sends you flying upwards.

Your back meets the trunk of a tree with a loud thud and you land with your face on the cushion of grass. You feel like every single bones in your body have turned to powder. A shar pain creep up your legs and you groan in agony.

"What's wrong chosen one? We are just getting started"

You lift yourself up wearily at Chaewon's challenge. You can't feel your legs but you manage to stand up. A few feet away, Chaewon stands, her hands on her hips. She gives you an exaggerated smile.

"You are not already giving up, are you?"

"You little-"

You are not able to finish your words because once again, Chaewon lifts a finger and an invisible force drags you backward until you crush into another tree.

You stumble, kneels shaking and your face graze the grass. Your mind is a jumble of anger and fear. But it is soon overwhelmed by the pain that leaves your mind blank.

"Get up"

For some reason, Chaewon's voice seems distant. You use the last bit of your strength to lift your face off the ground and your eyes catch a blurry sight of Chaewon and the sword in her hand. Your eyes move further back and your heart twitches painfully.

Kazuha has been overwhelmed by the hunters. Golden blood is pouring out of even more wounds all across her body and her gladius has scattered off away. Her only futile attempts to keep alive are the blasts of light she often summons to drive away her enemies. But it is obvious that shes going to fall victim to their razor sharp blades very soon.

Maybe it's the power of friendship. Maybe you are just scared out of your wits. Neverthless, you feel the all familiar burning sensation that originates from your pelvis and spreads through your whole body. However, this time, lust isn't the only thing that accompany the mark's wake. There's another feeling that you can't quite put a finger on. All you know is that it's ancient and have been buried deep inside you for god knows how long. Now, it's finally making its presence known and you happily welcomes its emergence.

All the pain in your body have been washed away. Every broken bone and raptured vessels heal. You bring yourself back to your feet and crack your neck. Strangely, it gives you a sense of contentment.

"What's this madness...?" Chaewon mutters, her pupils wide like a deer in the headlights.

You look at yourself and mutter the same thing. The warm golden glow that envelopes you is there. A reminder of the invulnerability the mark offers. It's a sight you have grown accustomed to. However, there's an addition to the package this time. Every single vein in your body is glowing and humming with power. You can see the tiny rivers of gold that wound all over you. In this moment, nothing else matters except the fact that you have become one of the most powerful beings in existence. You feel invisible, untouchable. You feel like a.....god.

Chaewon spreads her palms, shooting out silvery tendrils towards your direction but they quickly diminish once they reach a few feets away from you. She tries to summon her bow and launch a volley of arrows but they follow the same fate as her earlier attempt to harm you.

"Don't waste your efforts. We both know it's not gonna work" You muse as you slowly close your distance to Chaewon.

The hunters attacking Chaewon has frozen with shock; all of them staring at the scene unfolding before them. How dangerous are they now if even their mistress is powerless against you?

"What are you staring at? Charge!" Chaewon's order break the hunters out of their trance and all of them charge at you at once, their blades drawn.

A voice inside you orders and you clasp your hands, sending out a radiant wave of red that wash over the hunters. For a moment, everything is still. Then, the hunters start acting in the craziest way possible.

Their faces flush a deep shade of red like those caught comitting a deed they are not supposed to. Their legs start trembling. "Fuck. No. What-" One of them mummur as she tries to stop her legs from quivering like crazy. Another cover her mouth with her hands to muffle a moan. Much to your surprise, a wet stain is growing at the crotch of all their jeans.

Not a moment later, all of the hunters have collaspe onto the ground, desperately pulling off their jeans. Some even rip the fabric apart. Thats when you see your handiwork. All of their pussies are wet and glistening; clenching around nothing as if asking for something to fill them up. Some of them start to dig a finger or two into their wet holes, pumping to compensate for the pleasure that only a cock can bring. The others are still trying to hold on to their dignity but it's clear as day that they are fighting a losing batttle. Without a single movement, a geyser of squirt erupts from a hunter and she lets out the most primordial scream. The less composed ones even start to make out with each other; their bodies pressed together and their fingers digging deep into each other aching cunts.

You feel like you are in the wet dream of a Chaewon stan. Not a single Chaewon but ten are giving you a free webshow. All of their dignity have been thrown out of the window. The only thing that matters now is to satisfy the need their pussies demand. In this moment, those hunters are no different from camgirls.

"You fool! What have you done?" No matter how much she tries to mask it, the panic in Chaewon's voice is crystal clear.

You shrug. "I don't know either but it seems like your hunters are horny"

Her face twitches in anger. "I will kill you" She unfolds her palms, sending out tendrils of blinding light in your direction. You close your eyes to avoid getting blinded and when you reopen them, nothing have changed except the fact that Chaewon stands, dazed.

"What- what the fuck?" Chaewon swears and you almost want to laugh but you gotta assert your dominance.

"Well, I thought you already know. The mark makes me invisible"

"It's not possible. The last time I-"

'The last time'. Once again, you can't help but wonder what she means by that.

"Last time?" You ask for the second time. This time, Chaewon doesn't brush off your question. Instead, she stutters.

"No...no...it can't be. That power. It's impossible.."

"Well, as you can see, it's not"

Wasting no time, you advance on Chaewon slowly, each step calculated and measured. There's no need to rush. It's clear who's the victor here.

It doesn't take long for Chaewon to realize her disadvantage. Wasting no time, she pulls out a dagger from her belt and lunge at you with inhuman speed. That's her mistake.

As soon as she reaches a few feet away, she's thrown off balance like an invisible barrier has stopped her. The mark doing its job very well.

"For someone who knows a lot about the mark, you are pretty stupid" You say as you hover over her limp form that lies on the ground.

"Stay away from me, you filthy animal!" The goddess threatens but both of you know it has no real bite to it.

You hear a loud moan and your eyes dart to where Artemis's hunters are having the craziest orgy. A couple is scissoring, their pussies rubbing against each other in a frantic and almost animalistic way. Their faces distorted like bitches in heat. One Chaewon is eating out the other who lays sprawled on the grass while another take a seat on her face. And one lays propped to the tree, her fingers deep in her pink hole and squirting a fountain with ever pump. It's a sight to behold.

Further back, Kazuha sits under a tree, panting. You feel a pang of worry after seeing all her bloody wounds but at least she will live. And you have another task to focus here.

Chaewon takes your distraction as an opportunity and throws a jab from down below but you quickly grab her waist and pin her hand to the ground.

"I must say, I do admire your persistence"

"Let go of me!"

Her voice is so desperate, so demanding you almost let out a chuckle.

"What is it you say again? Men are filthy? Well, now that filthy man is going to take away your precious virginity"

The reality of your intention dawns on Chaewon and her pupils contract with fear. No more is the triumph, cocky goddess. What lies beneath you is nothing but another immortal who has fallen victim to your power.

"You can't be serious"

"Oh, I am" You touch her top with a single finger and in no time, it burns to ashes, leaving her upper body bare. You can get a clear view of her pink perky nipples that seems to be demanding your mouth on them. But that can wait.

"Stop it!" Chaewon's free hand strikes you again but you repeat your earlier motion and pins it down to the ground. Now, both of her hands are trapped. She spits in your face but you couldn't care less.

"Snappy, are we?" You take one of her now erect nipples into your mouth and bite down with just the slightest force, eliciting a mewl from her.

"I swear I will - mmph" Chaewon's protests are silenced as your teeth sinks once again, this time a bit more harder. Your tongue swipes across the pink bud then around her aerola.

"You little - fuck!" Your mouth makes its way to her other nipple, which is no less stiff than the other. For someone who's being all defiant, her tits are telling a different story. You take your tine tasting every inch of Chaewon's nipple before finally pulling back after a particularly forceful bite.

Chaewon's face no longer have the initial fury. Instead, it has been clouded by a lust filled haze. She pant, beads of sweat trickling down her temple. Her mouth has been parted slightly but her vocal cords betray no sound.

"How is it, hmm? To be used by a man?"

You ask, closing your indexes and thumbs around her nipples before giving them another pinch. Her body jerks upward, legs trembling.

"You....you...have no idea....what you are..."

Her voice is so low it can be mistaken for a breath. Her chest heaves with each word, as if talking has become the hardest task in her life. Her lips part again but before she can mutter more nonsense, you shut her up with your own lips.

"Mmmmph" Chaewon's words get slurred, reduced into nothing but jumbles of muffles and moans when your tongue invades her oral hole. Your tongue explore, tracing every inch of her warm wet hole before it finally found its mate; her very own tongue. Your muscles interwined, greedily lapping up anything Chaewon can offer: the drool, the warmth, the whole squelching wet mess.

Your hands aren't mandatory either. A single touch with your index on her pants and much like her top, it burns away to crisp. As much as this new ability of yours is handy, you really wish it wouldn't be activated all the time. You don't want to end up stripping someone acciidentally.

As soon as her lower body is bare, your fingers snake their way along her inner thighs - tracing the supple path of skin on your way to her core. It doesn't take long for you to find her unprotected pussy despite your lack of vision. The wetness and these smooth folds are unmistakable.

You stop the finger fucking, just to imprint Chaewon's expression in memory before you fuck her up in all the right ways. The goddess is left panting like a bitch, lips parted and drool spilling. Not a trace of pride left in those silvery irises.

Your middle and ring fingers dig into her folds and even before you get their whole lengths in, Chaewon's already moaning like it's your cock which has entered her virgin hole. Perhaps this is a sample of what she will be like when you actually pound her to oblivion; screaming your name, begging and begging until she can't anymore.

It's the perfect revenge.

"For someone who hate cocks, you are already leaking like a faucet"

You mock before pulling your fingers back and ramming them back into her hole, earning another mewl from her.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Another thrust and thsi time, she actually speaks.

"Stop....stop....I..."

"Can't hear you"

And with that, your fingers go back to work, pumping her hole steady and in rhythm. Her pussy really lives up to its reputation of being a forbidden treasure to man. It's apparent in the way its tighteness engulf your fingers in a deadly grip.

The first few thrusts are tedious, her walls blocking the way with their millenial old tighteness. But after a few more pumps, all the protection crumbles and her hole becomes nothing but a playground for your fingers. And perhaps, for the first time, start spilling her womanly fluid.

You add your index, now fucking her with three fingers and it produces the most sinful of gasps and breaths from that shrewd tongue. Her cheeks are red; not a blush but rather an indicator of the heat you are pumping into her with every thrust of your fingers.

You allow your eyes to waver your attention from Chaewon's slut face just a moment and see the strangest scene unfolding. All of Artemis's hunters; all the Chaewons, who are acting like whores just a moment ago has now reached a new level of ecstasty. All of them lay sprawled out on the grass, their moans combining into a orchestra of lewdest sounds. Their legs are spread open and every moment or so, a geyser of squirt would erupt from their dripping pussies.

Wanting to test something, you abruptly stop the finger action on Chaewon. Then everything go still. The hunters stop being the rowdy ones they were just a few moments ago. The panting is still there but no more squirting. You almost burst out laughing.

Just as Artemis has said, they are really 'sisters'. They are 'one'. Not like you are a psychologist but you recognize they have a hive mind, which helps them coordinate their attacks perfectly. But the downside is, it also works when one of them is getting treated like a slut. If their mistress gets fingered, so will they. A brilliant flaw for you to utilize.

Eager to try out this new feature, you waste no time digging your fingers back into Chaewon's soaking cunt, instantly producing groans and moans from her hunters. Meanwhile, their mistress is far gone - pupils dilated and mouth hanging open like a fish on land. Even when your thrusts increase with each second, all the reaction you can get out of her are the momentary jerks and writhes of her legs. You have completely broken this goddess.

Nonetheless, you don't need anymore sign to realize that she's teetering on the edge. Her pulsing walls, the increased quaking of her thighs - all give the approaching end away. It doesn't take long for you to finally give her the release she so desperately seeks. With one last pump of your fingers, you make her crumble.

It seems to never end - the shower of juice erupting from her wet depths. It gets all over your clothes and your hair. But you just stand there, smiling like a madman as you take in the view of another goddess becoming prey to her own pleasure. Just another day for the chosen one.

When her orgasm finally subsides, Chaewon is left a mess - chest heaving and eyes rolled up. Her body is slick with sweat, glistening despite the misty haze of this place. Further back, her hunters has followed the same route. Their bare bodies lay limp on the grass, spent. You admire your handiwork for a moment before you move on to the next step.

If anyone thinks you are finished here, they would be wrong. This is just the prologue to your grand plan of deflowering the goddess. And even if she weren't a virgin, you would have still done the same. Because the mark of Asmodeus is hungry. And the lust it has brewed up in you needs to be satisfied.

And the mark knows it too. Because with a single will, all the clothes on your body shimmer in a blinding light and disappear. And that's when you see it; your cock, which has become the hardest material in the world. All your throbbing veins have become visible, glowing plae gold and enveloped by a faint halo. Not to mention the mark, burning a deep shade of scarlet. This is no longer a male sexual organ. This is the weapon of a god.

Triumphantly, your fingers entangle in the goddess's raven hair, bringing her face close to yours. Is that a slither of resistance you see in her eyes? It doesn't matter. This is your hunting ground and she is the prey.

"Tired already? We are just getting started dear"

Chaewon mutters something that sounds like something between a moan and a huff. It's hard to say with her broken voice.

"Say something bitch"

You spit in her face, a revenge for earlier. Still, the goddess is silent except for incoherent raspy gasps. She just stays there, her pupils dilated like a lifeless doll.

You should be proud of the job you have done. How thoroughly you have ruined Chaewon with your fingers alone. But seeing her this broken ruins your mood. Sure, you are still gonna fuck her. But where's the fun when the only reaction you can get out of deflowering her are bits and pieces of sound. It's a complete turn off.

And then there it comes again. The voice inside you. No. A tug would be more suitable - an urge that manifests so suddenly. Without thinking, you touch Chaewon's forehead with your index finger.

Much to your horror, a line of red starts to burn just below her neck. It wounds into a circle on her skin then trace a straight line across it. After a while, you realize. The mark of Asmodeus is being carved on her skin - the very mark on your plevis.

After the imprinting is complete, the mark flares to life. But unlike yours, it doesn't glow scarlet. Instead, it shines a brilliant blue. Chaewon's eyes open and for a moment, you panick.

Have you acidentally transferred your mark to Chaewon?

"Master"

The words that leave Chaewon's lips leave you confused. It's like the goddess have become a different person. She kneels, looking up at you with eyes full of life. The silver of them replaced by blue.

"How can I serve you?"

That's when you understand what this new mark actually does. It has turned the goddess into a slut by completely altering her will. Just how powerful have you become?

You decided to leave the question for later, focusing on your new servant instead.

"You can start by putting that mouth of yours to good use"

"As you wish, master"

Chaewon's fists close on your cock, starting off with a full fingers handjob. She pumps your pole slowly, admiring all those veins glittering gold. The pace is slow and yet, you find her touch addictive. Maybe this is what a goddess's handjob feels like.

"Master cock is so big....so beautiful..."

With that praise, she brings her face a sucking distance from your cock. Her lips are hovering just above your tip and you can feel her warm breath that tickles your length. If this is foreplay, it's doing its job very well. After a couple more languid stroke and tantalizing breaths, you can't take it any more.

"I think I told you to suck me off"

"Sorry master"

Her soft lips finally closes in around your tip and there isn't any words to describe how heavenly the feeling is. The way those pink things drag along your tip only to pull it back in - it's the emboidment of ecstasy. You could have just let her focus solely on your tip and blow a load into her mouth. That's how good it is.

But Chaewon have different plans. Her mouth suddenly takes more than half of your length in one swift bob. The action causes her hair to fall in strands around her face but she looks even more beautiful that way. Messy face, all her assests exposed and mouth stuffed by your pole. This is your favorite form of art.

"Fuck, Chaewon. Don't stop"

A moan reasonates around your cock - the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. You don't know if it was a muffled sound of graitude or a planned act but you enjoy it nonetheless. If not, you want her to do it again.

You take a moment to study your surroundings as Chaewon works her magic. Among the tall grass, propped by the pines are the hunters, who have been now tied up with translucent lassos. Not like it's necessary. They are too horny to even lift a finger.

The work is, without a doubt, done by Kazuha. And speaking of Kazuha, she nows sit on the ground, looking no less ragged than before. At least the bleeding have stopped. Her eyes are fixed on the scene of Chaewon blowing your cock. No sign of shame or embarassment on that cold face. The same face she has wore when you fucked her fellow angel Yeji.

You turn away from your audience back to the slutty goddess who's worshipping your cock. Her blowjob has become a total mess all this while - spit bubblig and drool spilling. Ever so often, a gag would comes out distorted whenver your cock hits the back of her throat. You look into those watery eyes and praise.

"Look at you, Artemis. All whiny about being allergic to man before and now you are letting a man shove his cock down your mouth. You must be the biggest liar ever"

Chaewon doesn't seem to understand any of your words so she just keeo bobbing her head. She has been brainwashed into a whore whose only will is to serve your cock. And you can live with that happily.

Chaewon doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. She just keeps impaling her hole on your cock again and again and again. Gag reflex seems a million light years away. Is this another perk of being a goddess?

You are becoming too consumed by Chaewon's sloppy head. It's filthy, wet and messy. A perfect brew of your darkest desires. If she keeps on with it, her pussy wouldn't be the place you are storing your load in.

It'd be so easy to get lost in the bliss her skillful tongue is providing but you have other holes to take care of. A s much as it's difficult, you grab a fistful of Chaewon's hair and stops her.

She looks up, chin drenched in her own drool. She almost looks disappointed about the abrupt halt.

"Let's take a look at that tight virgin hole, shall we?"

You ask and Chaewon nods in return.

"Is master gonna take my virginity? Finally fill my pussy with his hot load?"

If the Artemis in the distant past can see the brainless whore she hae become, she wouldn't have even tried to touch you. But now, it's too late.

"That's the plan. Turn around. Show me that ass"

"I can't wait for your cock to stuff me full, master"

And with that she turns, getting on all fours to display those pale cheeks. Her back is slick with sweat and it only gets you pumped up even more. You have no time for foreplay. Not with how drunk on arousal you are. You need to pound her cunt. Hard and fast.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk"

Chaewon lets out a carnal groan as soon as your tip part her lips, easing its way in inch by inch. Despite all the juices she has wet herself with earlier, you are surprised to find the grip of her pussy still unyielding. Her walls clench on you in a vice grip and if it's not for the mark, the pressure would have been unbearable.

You start off with a few slow thrusts, getting accustomed to the topography of her unused hole. It doesn't take long until your dick mold her insides to its shape. Getting the first taste of a man's dick, her pussy has already become addicted to the rigid foreign body stretching her out. Her walls are pulsing as if begging you to go deeper.

"Master. I need you to fill me up. Make me so full...nghhh"

You cut off Chaewon's breath by inserting another extra inch to suffice the goddess's thirst for your cock. The fingering earlier has done its job well to coat her walls with a natural lube. Her juice slicken walls allow you to ease in inch by inch.

The initial tighteness was no more. All it's left to do is stretch open the rest of her uncharted depths. You are in no rush. The only thing better than being the first time of someone is being the first time of a goddess.

The goddess who just tried to kill you.

It's sick but the thought is an unbearble turn on that gets your cock throbbing even more. All her daggers and arrows and blades are useless against your cock, opening her up like a gift.

"More. Give me more. Yes, stretch my cunt. Yes yes yessss"

Chaewon's past the point of saving. Cock drunk would be the only word to describe this new toy of yours. She won't stop begging even when she's getting impregnated by the gloriest cock to exist.

And the needy mewls go on when you finally bury your whole length to the hilt. You hold there, balls deep. A second passes. Then two. New status of Artemis: deflowered.

"You are filling me up so well master. I can feel you getting even harder. Are you gonna paint my insides? Put a baby in me? I-"

"Shut up, slut"

The constant nagging of Chaewon's get on your nerves in a twisted way, urging you to show no mercy to this goddess whose holes are the only use she will ever had. With a tight grip on her bangs, you pull her face up, looking into those rolled up bedroom eyes as you pound her hole without mercy.

The verse opf Artemis has become nothing but a backdrop for your impudent act - squelches of your pelvis against her cheeks echoing in every direction. It becomes even more harmonious combined with the raw unfiltered sounds Chaewon's producing.

So this is what it's like to ruin a goddess, you think. Taking Persephone anally was one hell of a ride(quite literally) but it's nothing compared to this. Artemis is a completely different breed. And this time, you don't have to worried about getting caught. You have all the time in the world. And you will spend it wisely.

Your tip kisses Chaewon's cunt as you ram your length into her with increasing force if that's even possible. Her cheeks jiggle like jelly each time you make contact and you can't resist the urge to spank that pale ass.

"Fuck!"

Chaewon mewls as soon as the first slap of many to come lands on her right cheek quickly followed by another to the left. You are memorized by the way her flesh ripples, which leads your palm to work relentlessly. Left, right, left, right and left, right until her round ass has turned scarlet - the proof of your ownership imprinted on her.

Getting pretty bored of her ass, you stop of a moment to turns her around in a missionary position. You give each of her tits a harsh slap before you ram your cock back into her snug cavern again.

"Yesssssss"

Eyes rolled up and tongue hanging out in a perfect ahaego face, Chaewon is no different from a cheap slut anyone can pound with a few bucks. That's how much she has come to love your rigid mamba violating her cherished hole in every way possible. And the best part is, she's loving it.

"Master. I'm gonna...."

You grip her thighs and opens her legs even wider to put yourself in a mating press position. This way, you can spear into Chaewon as deep as you could. When you start pistoning your hips, Chaewon shows her gratitude by spilling her juices for the second time.

You fuck her through her orgasm, not giving her a single moment to catch her breath. Afterall, she's your toy. And toys are supposed to stay there and be used whatever way their owner likes. And Chaewon is a perfect example.

You can feel the mark growing hoter, its red glow bathing Chaewon in a vermillion veil. As if in response, the blue mark on her chest shimmers even brighter. The sight of those two marks; an unbreakable connection pushes you over the edge.

If this isn't ecstasy, you don't know what is. You can feel the adrenaline inside you reaching the peak for a final time as you pump her cunt full of your hot, sticky cum. The first few spurts go straight to her womb soon followed by the remaining seeds in your balls, which are perfectly smeared all over her midriff and tits.

"Master's cum. So hot..."

Artemis mutters dreamily as you spill the few last drops on her face. Her fingers dig into her loose hole, digging out your cum before bringing it into her mouth.

"Mhmm. Delicious"

She collects more of your fluid all over her body, tating it like her favorite meal. On second thought, its no surpirse a slut like her can live on your cum.

You can feel the power already draining out from your body. The mark dims and fades until not a single trace of it is left on your skin. Then comes the fatigue, which hits you like a truck.

The world does a 360 degree around you and you have to hold yourself up on your palms. You could have just lied there and never woke up again. The mark has done its job and leaft you weak and frail.

Surprisingly, the mark have faded on Chaewon too. Her chest is back to the smooth canvas it once was. A stream of cum leaks out of her used hole as she lays there, heaving.

The scenery around you starts to shift. The wood has gone lifeless. The cold calm it once held has been replaced by an uncanny lifelessness. It makes your skin crawl.

Then cracks start to appear out of thin air like glass walls being fractured. The ground rumbles and a loud wail rises up from it. You panick, desperately seeking for something to hold onto.

"Hold there"

Kazuha's voice splits through the air.

"It will be over soon"

Who are you gonna trust if you don't trust an angel?

So you obey, trying not to scream as the whole place starts to crumble. More cracks have appeared and soon the world around you is covered by messy fractures.

Then the rumbling stops and with a sound like glass breaking, the scenery around you shatters to pieces.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

You blink and you are back to the hall of Eros.

"I would have clapped if my hands weren't tied you know"

Eros is still there, not an inch moved fron his position before with hands bound. That stupid grin has beem plastered on his face - displaying his pearly whites.

"You are welcome"

You retort before realizing you are butt naked and instinctively cover your manhood with your hands.

"Kazuha gets to watch but I don't? No fair"

You would have punched Eros in the face if you don't feel like you are gonna pass out any moment. The audacity of this little fucker to joke around after putting your life on the line.

"Kazuha? What are you doing? Get me out of these"

Kazuha looks like she would have left Eros that way if he doesn't speak up. Reluctantly, she brings down her arms in a wide arc and slash through the chain.

"Thank you"

Eros's tone sound almost mocking as he stands and stretches his arms. After cracking his neck, he looks straight at you with those brilliant blue eyes.

"Well done, Michael! You have accomplished what I exactly hoped for"

"What? Fucking another goddess?"

"Her? Shush. No way"

He gestures to the right and that's when you see Artemis and all her hunters, sprawled out all across the hall with their bodies bare. None of them seems to be conscious.

"Do you know the reason I get caught? Because I intended to"

Another flex. Typical fucking Eros.

"Can you just get to the point? I can't promise you my mind and body will be in contact after a few minutes"

"You always skip the good parts Michael" He sounds almost regretful. "The thing is I enter Artemis's verse with the helm of darkness on purpose to lure her here"

"Wh-"

"Why? You may ask. Because I want her to kill you"

You are really starting to hate that habit of Eros that always seems to refuse giving a straight up answer. The god has to get a little 'creative'.

"Wh-"

"Why? To awaken the mark fully. To bring out its full potential. And you saw it didn't you? All the pain is worth it. It's a small price to pay for absolute power"

You hate yourself for believing the same thing. You would gladly traded all the blood you spilled to unlock the mark's secrets. Only you know what that power, that total certainity was like. It's like nothing else.

"So.....all the torturing Artemis did help the mark to reach its full power?"

"Exactly" Eros snaps his fingers.

"What about the helm of darkness then? Don't tell me you lost it"

"Oh no" Eros spreads his palm and the power symbol of Hades manifests with smoky tendrils. "I gave her a decoy"

Did what Eros said explain everything?

Not at all. This love god looks all jolly and easy going on the outside but sometimes, his action reminds you that you have no idea how twisted he actually is deep down. He has helped you obtained all this power and for what? And also something Artemis had said about someone else possessing the mark before you.....

"Why-"

Your question is interrupted by a loud chime reasonating around the hall. You have absolutely no idea this place has door bells.

"Who......"

Eros trails off before his eyes fix on a single door of many that circles the hall. This one is a set of tall marble doors with numerous designs of flowers and swans engraved on its surface. Seems like something Eros would absolutely love. But the god doesn't look so happy right now.

"Oh...shit"

The doors swung open and bright rays of light flood the room. You have to put up your arms to shield your eyes. The glow finally subsides to reveal a figure, standing with arms crossed.

Anger lines are eteched onto Karina's face - offering a strak contrast to its otherworldly beauty. The leader of Aespa looks like she's going to explode any moment.

"Eros!" She grumbles. "What are you doing?"

The usual carefree look on Eros's face is no more. All you can see is fear and dread.

His lips part and seal rapidly like a seabass, unable to make a sound. After a while, realization dawns on his face that he can't escape this. And that's when he speaks.

"Mom?"

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(This has been in my drafts for so long and I'm just too lazy to finish it. Might have gone a bit overboard with the word count. This is probably the longest fic I have written lol. Enjoy)

[bloodsbane]

what i love about laios is that he's actually very good at putting puzzle pieces together BUT HERE'S THE THING 1) he needs to HAVE the information, and 2) (this is important) he needs to KNOW it is information he should care about

and i think this could be said of anyone but the thing with laios is that people tend to view his lack of awareness wrt social etiquette and memory problems as pure indifference and/or obliviousness; sometimes they misinterpret his motives based on their inaccurate expectations of him and therefore don't give his thoughts on a subject the credit he deserves

one of the most obvious examples of this happens at least twice in the manga as i remember it, but the most recent incident was when they were trying to resurrect falin. there's a moment where laios mentions reconstructing both of the warg skeletons, as their bones are mixed in with hers. both chilchuck and senshi balk at this, with chilchuck complaining aloud, questioning laios' priorities,

and laios quickly, angrily retorts. his reason for making the suggestion is perfectly logical and practical, but because his friends are used to his interest in monsters influencing his judgement, often in ways they see as frivolous or dangerous, they don't come to the same conclusion. one which i'd argue is kind of obvious considering the situation

we see it again during his fight with toshiro, where toshiro demands to know what laios plans to do to save falin. laios takes a minute to answer, but he DOES answer, following the logic that if falin is a chimera because of (and controlled by) the mad mage, then the logical next step is to confront/defeat/usurp them

then in the following episode, when chilchuck brings it up again, laios explains what he (now) knows about thistle, mentioning that he's the same elf that laios saw in the living paintings, which is why he knows thistle's connection to delgal. the party reacts like this:

i'd say this is an example of them feeling frustration over laios' habit of having 'bad timing', not knowing when or how to speak at appropriate moments. theyre judging him for not saying something earlier, as if he already knew all this but didn't think to mention it when it was relevant, when the reality is that laios only just now had all the pieces he needed to understand the full picture

and i mention this bit specifically because i think it's a great way to explain what i mean by point 2: laios needs to know when information is important and worth considering

which, again, feels fucking obvious. but as someone who ALSO has debilitating issues with remembering important shit, i find this particular element of it pretty relatable and critical to my overall point. it's not laios' fault that he didn't know who thistle was or his significance - why the hell would he assume that a person he met in a living painting, presumably long since dead in reality, should be someone who's face, name, or motives he keeps in mind?

ultimately, i guess what i'm trying to say with all this is that the way others treat laios' intelligence is not congruent to how actually smart he is. one of the things i love most about laios, what is possibly his biggest strength and the reason he is such a great protagonist, is that laios is willing to think things through and find the most logical conclusion to a problem, no matter how outlandish or dangerous or seemingly impossible that conclusion may be. sister got eaten? race back down to go get her. can't afford food? fight, defeat, and eat dangerous monsters. sister's fully digested? use black magic to bring her back. now she's a chimera? defeat the mage controlling her and use that power to fix it.

anyways. what was even my point with this post? i guess it is that laios is smart, at least as smart as anyone else in the cast, arguably smarter than some. he is intelligent and utilizes that intelligence in many ways, not JUST when it comes to monster info (though that is his best and sexiest brand of knowledge)

and also please be nice to your friends with memory problems. it's rough out here for forgetful bitches

[hazeldragonblossoms]

aita for trying to summon a god to resurrect my wife?

i (142m) recently lost my wife (139f) to terminal illness. we were married for nearly 127 years, and were survivors of a disaster that destroyed our home city and killed nearly everyone in it. she was my best friend, the love of my life, and the light of my world. i’ve spent months trying to move on, but the pain of losing her has only grown stronger since her death, with my grief eventually leading me to quit my job and travel in the hopes of finding something else to live for. i will be upfront in admitting that, in the process of quitting, i blew up the school i worked at (no one was hurt), almost killed my assistant (he’s fine), and released a bunch of monsters from the abandoned gated community i had contained them in a few decades prior (long story).

anyway, during my travels i came across a relic that contained immense necromantic power, but i quickly realized that i would be unable to utilize it for my purposes on my own, as my wife had been dead for several months by that time and was well past the point of resurrection by conventional means. long story short, i decided to harness the power of the same god that caused the disaster that destroyed my and my wife’s former home.

as it turns out, my former boss (????m) picked up a kid (13x) off the street around the same time this was happening, and tasked my brother (also 142m, we’re twins) with teaching them magic. i won’t bore you with the details, but this thirteen year old now keeps following me around and fucking up my plans to reunite with my true love, which i’m frankly tired of.

(side note: this kid also won a fighting competition that hasn’t been won by someone from our school since i attended. i need to remind you, they are thirteen. i’m not certain they’d ever used magic before my boss picked them up, so i have no idea how this possibly could have happened, or when they had the time to even attend the fights since they’ve seemingly dedicated the majority of their time to fucking me over for no good reason.)

my ex-boss seems to think that summoning this being is a “bad idea” and could “destroy the world,” but 1. i’m doing it in my already ruined hometown and 2. i think that the world is a small price to pay to have my wife back. it’s not like it’s worth much without her in it, anyway.

edit: shut up about the fucking giant tree it’s an unrelated current event. you can’t prove that i actually did anything to him, and it’s rude to accuse people baselessly

[nellasbookplanet]

In the wake of FCG' fate I've been thinking about death in ttrpgs, and how it kind of exists on three levels:

There’s the gameplay level, where it only makes sense for a combat-heavy, pc-based game to have a tool for resurrection because the characters are going to die a lot and players get attached to them and their plotlines.

Then there’s the narrative level, where you sort of need permanent death on occasion so as not to lose all tension and realism. On this level, sometimes the player will let their character remain dead because they find it more interesting despite there being options of resurrection, or maybe the dice simply won’t allow the resurrection to succeed.

Then, of course, there’s the in-universe level, which is the one that really twists my mind. This is a world where actual resurrection of the actual dead is entirely obtainable, often without any ill effects (I mean, they'll be traumatized, but unless you ask a necromancer to do the resurrection they won’t come back as a zombie or vampire or otherwise wrong). It’s so normal that many adventurers will have gone through it multiple times. Like, imagine actually living in a world where all that keeps you from getting a missing loved one back is the funds to buy a diamond and hire a cleric. As viewers we felt that of course Pike should bring Laudna, a complete stranger, back when asked, but how often does she get this question? How many parents have come and begged her to return their child to them? How many lovers lost but still within reach? When and how does she decide who she saves and who she doesn’t?

From this perspective, I feel like every other adventurer should have the motive/backstory of 'I lost a loved one and am working to obtain the level of power/wealth to get them back'. But of course this is a game, and resurrection is just a game mechanic meant to be practically useful.

Anyway. A story-based actual play kind of has to find a way to balance these three levels. From a narrative perspective letting FCG remain dead makes sense, respects their sacrifice, and ends their arc on a highlight. From a gameplay level it is possible to bring them back but a lot more complicated than a simple revivify. But on an in-universe level, when do you decide if you should let someone remain dead or not? Is the party selfish if they don’t choose to pursue his resurrection the way they did for Laudna? Do they even know, as characters, that it’s technically possible to save someone who's been blown to smithereens? Back in campaign 2, the moment the m9 gained access to higher level resurrection they went to get Molly back (and only failed because his body had been taken back by Lucien). At the end of c1, half the party were in denial about Vax and still looking for ways to save him, because they had always been able to before (and had the game continued longer it wouldn’t have surprised me had they found a way). Deanna was brought back decades after her death (and was kind of fucked up because of it). Bringing someone back could be saving them, showing them just how loved and appreciated they are. Or it could be saving you, forcing someone back from rest and peace into a world that's kept moving without them because you can’t handle the guilt of knowing you let them stay gone when you didn’t have to. How do you know? How would you ever know?

[sunderwight]

SV Game of Thrones AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a character who is basically Joffrey Lannister.

Luo Binghe is a mix of all the Stark kids, but mostly Sansa Stark and Jon Snow. Su Xiyan and Tianlang Jun had a Rhaegar-and-Lyanna thing going on, and Binghe's adopted mother was Su Xiyan's older cousin, who took him in after the fact and had him legitimized because she was the only remaining heir and had no other kids.

In the original story, King Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) develops a suspicion about Luo Binghe's heritage and, being just as paranoid about Heavenly Demons as Robert Baratheon was about Targaryens, invites the Luo family to come to court. Ostensibly so that Binghe can be playmates with the king's son and heir (Shen Yuan). Binghe's mom is horribly worried that they've been found out, but has not choice but to accept the invitation.

Of course, OG Prince Shen Yuan was a rotten little sadist who made it his life's mission to torment Luo Binghe, was eventually revealed to be the bastard spawn of Queen Qiu Haitang and her own brother, executed Binghe's mom for alleged treason, is party to the slaughter of the noble Liu family, and is eventually gruesomely assassinated at his own wedding feast.

Shen Yuan himself doesn't want to torment Binghe, or slaughter anyone, start any wars, or of course be gruesomely assassinated at his own wedding feast. He would much rather live his cushy life as a crown prince, figure out how to administrate a kingdom properly and also implement some better waste management practices to reduce the awful city stench (like, Shen Yuan was never terribly interested in plumbing in his first life but he is absolutely invested in the subject now.)

The problem is that the System absolutely demands that there be a war and certain other plot points in order to propel Luo Binghe into some sort of narrative destiny. Shen Yuan's not sure why because the last time he checked, the book series was stalled with Luo Binghe seemingly dead, and the television series had basically rendered everything he'd done pointless by the end, but regardless the System won't just let him peacefully evade all the drama and spare Luo Binghe all the suffering.

Boo.

Plus there's the concerning matter of the Northern Demon King awakening and mustering armies to conquer the south (and getting derailed by the beleaguered quartermaster of the Nightswatch, who keeps wondering when the fuck the actual protagonist is going to show up to handle the increasingly concerning plot points, because Binghe should have been exiled by now...?), Zhuzhi Lang resurrecting his uncle (as a dragon?!) across the Narrow Sea, and the Qiu family plotting the murder of the king and a coup to seize power...

(Also featuring: Yue Qingyuan as the parts of Jaime Lannister's character not currently owned by Qiu Jianluo, the Huan Hua Palace Master as a Littlefinger proxy, Meng Mo as Bloodraven, and many more!)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Lazarus (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 2)

"According to tradition, Lazarus never smiled during the thirty years after his resurrection, worried by the sight of unredeemed souls he had seen during his stay in Hell..."

Word count: 5.7 k

Tags and warnings: Angst, fluff, soft smut 🔞. Slightly possessive!Ghost. Graphic depictions of past suicidal thoughts. Dating, kissing, cuddlefucks, emotions (the most daunting cw there is). Unfettered prose about a grown man's complex trauma. Reader is female and works as a medic at the base. Ghost POV.

Summary: You've just started dating Ghost. (This is a standalone sequel to Refugee)

She tastes round and sweet after the tang of blood and smoke and metal of the field. She feels like warm cascading water after the bleak, dead weight of a gun that leaves his hands throbbing with recoil. Her skin returns the memory of Paradise until it overrides everything else.

She's a soft blooming to the senses.

And his have been blown wide, torn apart, shot full of noise. There's an amputated, burnt stump where there should be a limb and some soft skin. But still, a blast that burns flesh from bones is not that different from her soft whisper that has the power to level him like a nuclear wind.

. . .

They're some kind of a secret, although he doesn't know why exactly.

Perhaps because she knows enough by now. She knows he's a dead man.

A ghost.

And women like her don't date apparitions. They deserve more than just bones and a haunting: they deserve flesh and blood and solid ground. She deserves far more than promises he has no power or right to give.

He has no mandate for life. His is a half-life, and stolen; he's living on borrowed time.

She doesn't only protect his phantom, she shields herself from talk and rumors. It's only understandable. He takes everything she gives him, which is more than he deserves.

He fucks her to ruin on the conference table people share in the meetings. He makes her leak all over his desk during quiet afternoon hours of his office; he makes her come on his tongue in the fucking hangar after a long day, just to get the taste of dry desert sand off his mouth.

She stops complaining about propriety after that. After all, she's the one who came there on his call and allowed him to rip her pants down when there was only settling dust to accompany them in the quiet hall.

It doesn't take long to see that the woman's not actually complaining at all. She fucking loves it when he barges in and simply takes her.

And he buries himself inside her like she's the base. His home after a mission, his destined location after deployment. She lets him fuck her practically anywhere except on the floor.

That's his place. And he has no problem with lying down there in the filth, especially if it means he gets to watch how she sits on his cock until that pretty little face distorts with pleasure that looks like pain.

His field pants and navy blues have cum stains after his visits while she cleans herself up in no time, fixes her hair and looks as innocent as ever. His mask smells of cunt when he's trying to concentrate on missions, and the scent of her juice makes him hard while he's supposed to be instilling brass into bodies. He smokes cigarettes just to drive the maddening taste of her from his tongue.

He's gonna get killed one of these days. The irony doesn't escape him: it's not a bullet or a grenade that will take him, but that sweet, hazy memory of her cunt.

She's an obsession. He injects himself full of her like the most pathetic addict.

Until one day, she says it can't continue like this. That it won't do to rut like animals until the smell of mad sex coats the room she's supposed to stitch and staple people in.

It causes a small panic till she asks him to visit her.

In her home.

It sounds serious: it sounds like she wants more than just his cock. And he's fucking terrified.

Women think about whether to wear this dress or that on a date: he thinks about whether to put on the mask or not – he meditates on it for two whole hours. Everything else is clean and in order; he looks like a human and not a soldier. But he can't rid himself of the skeleton.

There's a storm coming when he reaches her place. It electrifies the air until his spine is full of thunder.

She seems surprised – happily so – when she finds him at the door, decent as can be. He gets one of those innocent smiles which are pure sin beneath.

"You came."

"Sure."

She doesn't ask why he's always wearing a mask. She takes what he has to give, which is his all, which he fears will never be enough.

"There's food–"

She lets out a delightful little noise when he picks her up and carries her to what looks like the biggest and softest bed he has ever laid a woman on, ever laid himself on.

So, she likes luxury. Or at least, comfort.

Softness. Hugs… Support.

And kisses, apparently, because his mask is lifted without permission. Not that she needs one.

"Simon, I made you some dinner," she laughs in his mouth, and he's smiling – she's the only one who makes him fucking smile.

"Later," he rasps with a sore throat – he has become soft, too, and it's her fault. He has barked orders all day, but with her, his voice always comes out quiet and calm.

Where her domain at work consists of harsh lights and sterile frigidity, her home is dark and warm like a womb. His senses are filled with lemon and thyme – she has made something he's never tried before, something… Mediterranean, perhaps. A culinary ambrosia for someone who has lived on dog food and tried to thrive on it.

It's a pity that he's a barbarian, and here for dessert. As much as he likes the dainty little thing she has put on just for him, it's not cunning enough to stop him from ripping it to shreds.

She protests at first with a posh little gasp, but then she spreads her legs like it's open season and he's the VIP customer. The laced, pathetic little thing lays in wreckage around all that softness creaming just for him, and his mouth shoots full of water.

The feel of her is better than sinking a knife between two ribs. She's velvet on his scar and coarse stubble and for the first time in his life, he curses the mask. She moans all around him, tries to grab him by the hair still under the black fabric.

And it makes him want to rip it off and let her yank and tug to her heart's content, grab his hair and push his face as deep inside her cunt as it goes.

He tries to fit inside her apartment, a serene space filled with scented candles and clean carpets and frilly little curtains that shift in the restless night wind.

He tries to fit inside her.

The attempt always makes her moan and tremble and sigh. It's hard to focus on the task at hand when he wants to freeze the moment to where her lashes flutter and she stops breathing for a second – when she takes him in with grace and hunger.

"Oh fuck…"

She swears this time, watches with helplessness and an open mouth as his cock slowly disappears inside her. Then she looks up at him like…

Like she's missed him.

"You're a brute," she whispers, eyes shining.

"Thought you liked brutes."

"I made you dinner and you…Ah…"

He arrives home, heavy and loaded with yearning.

First things first.

It has been a week, and there's been no time to relieve the pain, nowhere to go and wank off the sickness that festers inside him every second they're apart. And she's the only one who can cure his disease. But he does feel like a brute for not letting her feed him. When was the last time anyone made him anything?

The sea is booming now, roaring behind the window she has left open. This time, they're not fucking at the base, in some corner of a room with a lock hurriedly latched on. He's fucking her amidst doused lights and a seaside breeze that enters their skin through an open window. He's at the beach, even when there's no sun. The sands are even more stunning with a gathering storm.

He fucks her like a dog, and she looks at him with weak love in her eyes. She's looking up at him with those big, wet eyes like he's the best leader there is - like she's counting on him. Like the people under his command, those who ask for his advice, ask for the next move.

It drives him fucking insane.

It's even better than a good round of sex: that unbound look of adoration. His mask is a poor shield against all that. She slips past it like she's the expert in clandestine warfare here. And suddenly he doesn't want any more secrets. There's a ton of them already; he carries the weight of them in his soul.

He's an underdog, always has been, but he's also a hound for claiming her as his that night.

After he's done fucking her to oblivion, he descends. She comes alive like a jolt of lighting in his arms as he kisses her, then sucks the tender skin of her neck. Everyone's going to see it, he makes sure of that by using the tiniest amount of teeth to finally mark her. She moans an equal amount as she does when she's clenching around his cock.

"Did you just give me a hickey?" She asks, breathless when he's done.

"High time, don't you think," he mutters. The woman will look glorious on the beach and highly improper at work.

Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas…

"You're unbelievable." She only laughs at his obsession. The woman’s not afraid at all, even when she’s face to face with a monster. The sunshine of her smile pairs well with the crackle of thunder outside.

"You want a beer?"

He's too drugged to answer with nothing else than a surprised, drowsy blink. She laughs again and takes it as a yes, which it is. He stares in awe as the woman walks to the fridge, all naked and lax from his treatment, takes out a bottle, opens it, and brings it to him. She takes none for herself; she only serves him like he's some kind of a king. When he takes a sip, she smiles again: lighting flashes somewhere in the distance and gives her an aureole of light, a halo of an angel for a second.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." The wink she gives him makes it perfectly clear that she wouldn't mind him joining her. But as she goes by the mirror, the vision of his claim stops her.

"Simon…"

He gets a scolding, and it only makes the corner of his mouth tug.

"No concealer is going to cover this."

"That's the point," he takes another sip while lying on her too-soft bed. She shakes her head before walking to the shower. The eye of the storm is above him, and everything's silent, like he's lounging on a dream.

The bottle in his hand sweats cold condense in his hand, and like always with her, he finds himself in the present moment. He drinks the beer in less than ten seconds, then takes the mask off and leaves it somewhere among the sweat and cum stained sheets.

It's the first time she has seen him without the shield, the first time she sees his body in full light. Every protrusion of white scar, every part of uneven skin, every marring of two and three stage burns is visible as if he is on a well-lit stage.

"Well. Pleased to meet you."

The smile that greets him, the veil of surprise that draws aside to reveal pure delight and marvel is more than worth the risk. She's frozen in time with a bottle of shower gel in her hands, too preoccupied with the trust he has decided to arm her with. She now has power over him, but he proceeds to do what he came here to do. Which is to make her sing a second time.

"For what do I owe this pleasure–"

The bottle falls on the tiles with a soft plunk as he steps between her legs and lifts her against the wall.

On that, she doesn't only kiss him; she takes the scar of his lip between hers and sucks. The warm water is nothing compared to her hands which sweep up and down his back and release years and years of tension. She whines when he only gives her shallow thrusts, then tries to claw his back to get more of his cock. It makes him chuckle.

"Needy," he comments on such delightful hunger, and she lets out the most annoyed, frustrated noise he has ever heard on her.

"Stop teasing, Riley…"

She tends to use his last name when she's fed up with him. It's supposed to create distance, but it only makes him latch himself onto her more fiercely.

He could torture her, delve deep, dig out even more frustrated sounds from her, but that's a quest for another time. He grants her wish along with his own and slides fully in. She kisses him through the whole fucking, and he feels like he's in boiling water, cooking until the raw meat grows tender and prepared.

And he realizes he's not actually fucking her: he's making love to her. He didn't even know he could do that.

When they've had their fill, the water takes away his gift. It feels wrong that something meant to be inside her leaks down some filthy drain. It's like a testimony, an illustration of his whole life: that his essence, his worth, belong in the sewers.

"You're a beautiful man," she whispers on his skin while caressing his back filled with past torture. His stomach churns, he feels like throwing up and falling asleep at the same time. An odd sensation.

She holds his mutilated corpse under the descending water and breathes life into him. The vomit never comes. He exhales history on her skin, inhales some peace in its stead.

In the morning the sound of thunder has been replaced by myriad birdsong.

. . .

He never meant to bring her here, but the wind on the beach is too harsh today and she's cold. It would be ungentlemanly not to get her a jacket from his apartment when it's only a few hundred meters away.

"To say that this place needs a woman's touch would be an understatement, Riley."

There's little else here but a tv and a fridge. He doesn't need either of them, but they're there to remind him what a home should look like. She takes the deafening silence and barren wasteland well, far better than he ever imagined she would.

"Y'can touch anything you want."

She turns and raises an eyebrow – he already knows that look. He's in for it now.

"Smooth... Very smooth." She walks to him and pushes him to the armchair. Not with force, because she doesn't need it. He falls to the sagged old thing like it's suddenly cloud nine rather than his old deathbed.

He waits for her to climb onto his lap and ride him until the chair breaks under the weight of their love. He could use a new chair anyway.

But she doesn't do that.

She gives her what this place has been missing.

A woman's touch.

Her mouth is hot as hell, wet like the gulfs that used to drown men in the sea centuries ago. She's a siren with her songs, but this time, she's quiet.

The room is not: the deathlike silence is suddenly filled with wet urgency and sloppy sounds of adoration. All his hauntings recede to the shadows like the blowjob is a whole exorcism.

His head falls back, and the first charred moan coats the air like it's been entombed for decades. And it has.

She is encouraged by the sound, and the tongue that sweeps the underside of his cock sends him jolting from his shallow grave.

Jesus fuckin'–

"Fuck…" He tries to blink back tears or death while looking at the crumbling paint on the ceiling. He feels equally worn out on her tongue: old and a lot of work, but a woman's touch is like magic.

"Mm–h." She dares to moan on his cock as if it's the best thing she's had in her mouth in decades, too. She even brushes her fingertips over his balls like they're some newfound treasure. They pull taut under her touch, stupefied by the sudden attention.

He can feel the upcoming blaze. It gathers at the base of his spine, his cock is brick-heavy in her mouth, and she won't stop – fuck, she goes even deeper…

"Fuckin' hell, pet…"

His thighs bunch and spread, a scorching groan erupts like he's a volcano and not a man. That's when she gives his cock a long, torturing suck, and he's gone, there’s no time and space other than her hot velvet mouth that surrounds him like the hot core of a star.

She adds a hand at the base of him, and he explodes so hard that he barely has brain cells left to worry about whether she will choke on it. But she doesn't even gag, even if the first spurts must be more than generous.

Fuck, this woman…

He melts in the chair while she finishes the rest of him, takes all he has to give, like she always does. They're an odd pair: an angel and a demon, and he feels like he's finally saved, resurrected – this room, this chair has never seen anything like this.

It's different with her, the emptiness that comes after. It's not filled with grief but deliverance.

He wants her to know what she’s just done, but he knows the things he's good at, and he knows the things he's not. Words are one of those things. She moans and begs and shatters and swells in his arms, she takes on a volcano and resurrects corpses long since dead, and he still doesn't know how to tell her. That he's hers, that he wants to make her feel as good as he bloody fucking can. He could be tortured for days and he still wouldn't know the right words. He tries to tell it to her in other ways and sees how she settles.

He would rather kill the whole human population on this earth than see her settle for anything.

So he forces the strange words out, fleshes them on his tongue and pushes them through teeth to haunt the stale air of his apartment that has never seen such love before.

"I missed you."

Of course it sounds so odd that she laughs. Bitter, too.

"You missed my tongue."

"No. I missed you."

She finally raises her eyes to his, doesn't try to blink back the watercolors. Those eyes are shining; they're beckoning.

"I missed you too," she says, then lays her head on his thigh like she's only a humble servant begging for mercy.

It's a farce. He's a skeleton, a ghoul of useless rubble while she's celestial; she's summer, a fucking empress.

It rips his chest to see her on her knees on the dirty floor, that she's comforting him in a chair that should've been his disposal site. The leather was supposed to be painted with shards of bone and puddles of pink-white brain; this room was supposed to echo with a single blast of a gunshot, not with roars of fragile love. He would've been found relatively soon, the neighbors wouldn't have had to complain about the smell: after all, the military takes care of their own. A lieutenant's absence wouldn't have gone unnoticed, even if everything else in him would never have been missed by anyone.

He brushes her hair, and she sighs, oblivious to his past hell. All nine circles of it, an inferno that would put poets to shame. And she doesn't know she has pulled him from the depths just by smiling.

. . .

"Promise to come back."

"Yeah I promise."

He can't promise that. Fuck, that he wants to.

Every bullet acquires sound, like that birdsong from her little window. They gain weight, they start to carry death. It used to be his power: to bring destruction. He was put on this earth to reap.

Now he's alive.

He's suddenly a man who can be killed.

Now everything's bright like he's a newborn trying to get used to a world full of pain. Light and sound and time and space; mortality.

Sharpened instincts have never been his friend. It used to be a simple dance: knife out, knife in. Drop 'em.

Line the sights and deal extinction. Walk like a ghost until the battering ram announces there's death coming.

It takes him a while to understand where the sorcery lies.

It's in the senses. She's sensuous.

"Simon–"

He hears her in the shaded crevice of rocks, catches phantom notes of vanilla from the dry desert air that tries to push through the filthy fabric of his mask. She’s with him just before the hatch opens, and for the first time in his life, he hesitates before the jump.

She tastes round and sweet after the tang of blood and smoke and metal of the field. She feels like warm, cascading water after the bleak, dead weight of a gun that leaves his hands throbbing with recoil. Her skin returns the memory of Paradise until it overrides everything else.

She's a soft blooming to the senses. And his have been blown wide, torn apart, shot full of noise. There's an amputated, burnt stump where there should be a limb and some soft skin. But still, a blast that burns flesh from bones is not that different from her soft whisper that has the power to level him like a nuclear wind.

He has to learn how to come back to his senses. It's a joke that makes him wish he could shed tears. Luckily, she's the best teacher he could ever have.

"Fuck, Simon…"

He tries to quit smoking just to be able to taste her better. A scorched tongue is a curse when a man can't get enough of cream and silk.

"I need you. Need you so much. You don't even know..."

He knows. He knows that the depth of his need surpasses hers; it always has and always will.

The last time he saw her wasn't at the base; it was when he woke up to the sight of her foraging for orange juice from the fridge with his sweatshirt on. She combined sultry lace and bare, smooth skin with an old, black hoodie.

And it swallowed her. All his darkness. She only looked sleepy and content while being smothered by all that dark cotton.

"I'm gonna make some breakfast," she announces upon seeing he's awake. "You like bacon and eggs?"

What the fuck did I do to deserve you.

She knows full well she could offer him a chest filled with gold, and it wouldn't be half as tempting as her little American breakfast.

"That'll do."

He was supposed to go to the shower but instead, his feet take him right back to her. She gives him a pleasant hum when his hands fall on her shoulders and start to rub some stress away. He knows it will make her moan, as it does now. She leans a little into him, surrenders to his treatment.

"Simon… Do you come here just for sex?"

The hiss of cooking bacon almost drowns the question. Just one syllable less, and the question would be as she originally meant it to be.

Does he come to her just for sex.

"No."

She turns to look at him with a shy little smile. It makes him want to crush her against that counter until those lips part with a helpless sound.

"I like your cooking."

"You…ass," she laughs, shoves him lightly.

He treats every day like it’s his last with her, waits patiently for her to realize he is not the man she thinks he is. Under the bones he wears there’s only more bones, nothing more. She can feed him all she wants, but it will only make him more hungry; and a day will come when she sees he’s not actually a man at all but a yawning, six feet grave.

The black cotton hugs her and makes it falsely look like this woman belongs to him. It’s another round of torture to see how she takes his shirt, takes his cock, plays with the only things he can give her for a while or two.

She has the sweater on as she gives him the softest farewell smile. She adds a few words, some more detail to her request. In truth, it's his new protocol.

"Promise to come back to me."

He doesn't ask for the sweatshirt back.

She's left with it and his promise.

. . .

"Poor lass's always sulking when you're on those solo missions."

He knows that Price might know about them by now. But if Soap knows, everyone knows.

He doesn't care: after all, the woman doesn't even try to conceal the seductive looks and dreamy smiles she gives him whether there are other people present or not. They're not a secret anymore. Perhaps that's the way she wants it to be.

But the information Soap gives him is new.

"She is?"

He goes straight to her after the plane lands. Doesn't give a single fuck about that smug look the boy gives him.

She looks slightly surprised as he simply walks in: she can see he's filthy. He has grime on his hands, on the fingerless gloves that make it easier to operate a gun when there's no threat of sweating. He smells of smoke and ruin, gasoline and tobacco – a lousy compensation for her, a ridiculous substitute to calming his nerves when he knows the mission is going to be tricky. It already pisses him off that her cream will be mixed with smoke and disease again. He knows his weaknesses, which aren't many. But with her, he has learned it's not about the quantity.

The sorrow is briefly disguised from him. It's admirable: the way she tries to hide even the plainest of things. He knows her by now, knows that the sun casts shadows too. She should know he's the one she can cast them safely with.

The throat between the shoulders burdened by work and worries looks fragile in his hands. A bird's neck he could wrench without breaking a sweat.

"Mmh. I love your hands."

"Just my hands?"

He shouldn't be touching her with his filth, but he can't help it anymore. If she loves it, who is he to argue back?

Love your hands too.

Fuck, I love your smile. Your tits, your lips. That little pout you got when you don't get what you want right away.

I love–

She sighs. Then she cranes that beautiful neck, clings to him with one, tiny hand. "Why are you here, Simon?"

"Heard you were sulking," he mutters in her hair.

"What…?" She laughs. She laughs, but she's not happy. "What on earth are you talking about?"

She's shy. Reserved. Hiding behind a wall of humor and sunshine and smiles. His darkness penetrates it all.

"Heard you're devastated when I'm gone," he tries even more softly.

She could take it as arrogance. One of his lousy jokes. But she knows better than that.

"I am," she finally says, angel-soft. When she turns, there's finally sorrow in her eyes. She looks up at him, up, up, again with that stare that says I am yours to command. On the brink of tears; tears he wants to battle to the abyss. But his muscles are no use here.

Her lip trembles, just a little, when he brushes his knuckles over her cheek.

"We can't have that."

"We can't?"

"No."

"Well what are you going to do about it?"

Her voice is soft, pleading. It's not a demanding question: the woman's simply out of it. She wants assistance, assurance.

What are your orders, sir?

She worries too much. Up until this point, he thought it’s just because she's dutiful, responsible, one of the best employees there is. But she's not tense from work.

It's not just the missed you's she whispers when his skin is at its most thin.

She fears losing him.

Stone-cold realism is required in his field of work; no sleight of hand magic can help him when he's facing the unavoidable. If the mission is impossible, he doesn’t take it. Because he can't change the unchangeable; he can't fight the inevitable. They both know he can't promise anything.

They both know he will do his best to come back. There was a time he would’ve considered it a blessing if he didn’t. Death used to be his only ticket to some peace.

She gives him an impossible mission, and he can't say no. Leadership is about taking care of people. His people. And she's more than just a subordinate.

He grabs her by the waist and raises her to the counter, relishes the way she gasps. She weighs nothing in his hands after cold, hefty cannons. It’s almost like she gains wings and flits to the tabletop designed for him to take her. It’s the perfect height for him to simply open his pants and alleviate her pain.

"Gonna fuck you until you cry."

She sighs. "You can't solve every problem with a gun or a cock, Riley."

The woman knows how to penetrate him, too. The stabbing doesn’t stop even when her thighs part slowly - she knows, just as much as he, that this is the best way to remind her just how alive he is. This is the only thing he can give her, and he is damn right going to deliver. His hand covers half of her thigh as he brushes a thumb over the sensitive inner side.

"You sure about that?"

That look of desperation makes him hard already. Her hands go about his neck in a perfect paradox with what she whispers next.

"Honey… Not here."

She calls him honey. As if this tar-black madness is only golden nectar to her.

"No?"

It’s not only sorcery, but necromancy: how she’s brought him back from the grave. No wonder such arts are considered dangerous. This is forbidden, and still, he cannot stop.

"Ya want me to stop?"

"...No."

He leaves most of her uniform on because he is in too much of a hurry to get between her legs. The woman molds herself against him the second his tip meets her folds.

"God, you feel good," she sighs as he slides in. It's like a prayer: both her words and his return back to the base. Alive.

"So fucking good…"

Fuckin' tell me about it.

She whimpers and clutches him like a little leech. Almost cries already.

"That's it. You just hold onto me."

If someone heard the way he's cooing in her ear, they would deem him soft in the head. He doesn't give a fuck.

Her moans chime inside his head like the softest, most beautiful opera. He has never been a man of high culture. The whole civilization could go to hell for all he cared. But she sings to him so beautifully that even a man like him can finally see the appeal. Legs wrap around him even tighter than those small hands until he doesn't know who's holding who here.

"That feel good..?"

"Yes… Don't stop, just don't stop."

She's almost limp in his arms. Good. He's managed to relieve that tension already.

He goes deeper, deeper, and a tiny hand that saves people instead of slaughtering them grabs him by the shirt, probably in an instinct to try and catch some skin. He can't see her face but the body against him trembles and shakes as he spreads her wide and pours love in her.

"No need to sulk, sweetheart. I got you."

She's crying, or laughing, or both. Of course she likes pet names paired with support. He adds it to the list of things the woman loves, the things he can give her. He hopes, half expects that she will shed some tears after shattering around his cock. She needs a good cry as much as she needs him. And nothing feels as good as this: being needed by her.

When she comes with an arched back and a scream he fears and hopes will reach every other officer here, he knows he can let go too. He's done his duty: now it's time to collect the reward. It's not transactional, she's not work, but she's still his responsibility. The woman's paycheck is fatter than anything he could ever get from his employer. He's inside her, but that doesn't mean she isn't inside him too. She's embedded in him in ways that threaten to swallow him and leave him on the shore like bleach-white bones on a beach. He stays inside her long after the waves have passed. She rests her head on his shoulder, and he doesn't dare to move.

"I still have your sweatshirt," she sighs while holding him.

"Good. Looks better on you."

"I sleep with it sometimes," she whispers and wraps herself around him so tight that he wishes he could be there every night to send her to sleep. Now she only has his memory as a company, some darkness far too big for her. "Sleep in it, actually."

His mind is like a wheel that turns around nothingness. There's nothing to hold on to; he's falling through starless space.

The eerie sound of gunshot echoes in his head, he thinks about the splatter of brain matter on the armchair; how there's at least one person in this world who would cry from hearing the news.

And not just any person, but her; a whole summer in one woman. A midsummer sun, missing some forgotten, weatherbeaten bones on a beach when there's plenty of flora and fauna to shine on.

"If you ever break your promise…"

She sniffs in his neck, and his embrace tightens instantly.

"Would rather die than break it."

His promise doesn't make any sense. Or perhaps it makes every sense. She finally cries like she's supposed to.

"Shh. I'm here now."

I'm not dead.

I'm not dead.

[zagreusapollyon]

I'm gonna get hate for this.

Chiron is an incompetent fool.

There, I said it.

Because why in the absolute FUCK would you send a 13-year-old to tell a kid (which is under your supervision too btw) that "Oh yeah, your sister is dead" !?

That's not say that this man is also a complete DOORMAT to the gods!

Like bro, you're also one of Krono's kids and are also immortal and train their children, you have to have some agency.

Most gods do care about their children. I'm sure if you alerted them or talked to them, they would have at the very least done something indirectly.

You ignored Percy in favor of Thalia when she got resurrected! Choosing to focus on her instead of being strategic and training them BOTH.

There's also the matter of capture the flag. This man does absolutely nothing to supervise these games. If Percy didn't have water-healing powers, he might have just DIED. There is no consequence to the kid's wrongdoings, Clarisse barely gets a punishment for attacking Percy the way she did.

For someone who has been training heroes for thousands of years, he doesn't seem to do anything AT ALL.

[ryin-silverfish]

Ask/Writing Masterlist (irregularly updating)

Ryin(阿璎), 23. She/They. First Gen Chinese student. Ryin_Silverfish on AO3. Currently hyperfixating on old Chinese novels. casual Zhiguai tales and LMK enjoyer.

Investiture of the Gods/FSYY:

Why are the Daoist immortals fighting?

Did Yuanshi Tianzun manipulate Shen Gongbao?

Chan, Jie, and possible prejudice against yaoguai

Azure Lion and the other Bodhisattvas' steeds in FSYY

Daji's fox form in FSYY Pinghua

The historical Su Daji

Is Shen Gongbao a yaoguai?

Are all yaoguai irredeemable monsters in FSYY?

Ao Bing and the dragons Nezha fought

Does deification wipe your memory and personality?

Bi Gan and the Great Fox Massacre

More discussion about prejudice against yaoguai

How old was Su Daji the human when she died?

Differences between FSYY novel and Pinghua

Musing on FSYY's view of fate and its possible effects on Yang Jian

Master Yuding

The messy marriages of FSYY

Is Daji a goddess in the novel?

Names of immortal masters in FSYY

Just for fun: the FSYY drinking game

Nezha's age in FSYY

Nezha's death and resurrection in FSYY

What happened to the original Daji?

Lady Shiji aka the Rock Demoness

Chinese Fox Spirits:

Auspicious/Demonic Foxes

More on fox spirits

The inner core of foxes

Foxes and their association with Fire

Notable fox spirits

The foxes of 狐狸缘全传

Has Daji ever been worshipped as a goddess?

Fox masks

The foxes of Liaozhai

Weaknesses and abilities of fox spirits

Three resource collections on Chinese fox spirits: 1, 2, 3

Human-fox hybrids

Can foxes and their descendents magically know if someone's telling the truth?

The magical properties of fox saliva

Fox exams and Heavenly Foxes

Are male foxes more malicious?

More on fox exams

Offerings to fox spirits

The "Lady Fox Immortal"

Chinese Mythos in General:

The Precious Scroll of Erlang

Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

Can immortal masters romance their students?

Why we don't power-rank characters in God-Demon novels

A brief overview of Chang'e

On Chinese Religion and "Respect"

The 28 Lunar Mansions

Can the Heavenly Emperor be replaced + a primer on dynastic successions

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

Is Nüwa JE's daughter?

Weaver Girl

Can yaoguais a/o their descendents enter the Celestial Bureaucracy?

Queen Mother of the West and her husband(s)

Bixia Yuanjun, Lady of Mt. Tai

Erlang's dad

The story that gives us the name "Yang Jian"

On the transformation of Erlang's image (and his relationship with JE in JTTW)

Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

Erlang cameos in other stories and Zajus

Erlang's mom-saving story in Chinese operas

Child Manjushri, or: the absurdity of pinning a definitive age on gods

The strange modern ship of Mengpo/Yuelao, and Mengpo's myths

The half-beast form of QMoW

Does Erlang have a wife/love interest?

Nezha's mom

A overview of Gonggong and his mythos

Some introductory sources on the Chinese Underworld

A side-by-side comparison of Nezha's backstory in JTTW and FSYY

Mythos-inspired Worldbuilding:

Dragons of the Four Seas

LMK S5 and a possible "Celestial Council of Regents" AU

LMK S5 Fix-it: the Four Divine Beasts

Character/Story Analysis (JTTW + LMK)

Heart and Mind: Tripitaka

Local Lion Uncle enjoyer goes on a rant

On SWK and his fear of death

Why the Dead People Supreme Court?

No, seriously, why?

Chinese Underworld =/= Christian Hell

LMK S4, Havoc in Heaven, and revolutions

Why I dislike the "class warfare" reading of Havoc in Heaven

In Defence of Li Jing...ha, as fucking if

On Yin-Yang, Chaos/Order, and the Harbringer

JTTW's view on the Three Religions

Disjointed S5 Reactions

"Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese Cosmology"

Xiangliu, the Nine-headed Bird, and Jiutou Chong

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries

Part 1: Precious Scroll of Chenxiang

Part 2: The Epic of Prince Chenxiang

Part 3: Lotus Lantern 1.0 + 2.0

Part 4: Chenxiang and the Male-Female Swords

My Fanfics:

Climbing the Sky

The Wild Son

Bodhicitta

The Serpent and the Deluge

South Seas Sojourn

Journey of the Gods AU sideblog

[mylordshesacactus]

I had the realization a while back that Isobel, who was dead for a hundred years, would have been around in Jaheira's heyday and almost certainly knows who she is.

And then the significantly funnier realization that, like.

POV: You are Isobel Thorm. You don't fully remember how you died, but you remember languishing in timeless darkness. You are ripped from the grave gasping and shaking, surrounded by darkness and obscene symbols and the desecrated remains of your ancestors. Your father, warped and corrupted, is acting deranged and horrifyingly possessive of you, and almost sounds pleased to tell you that your wife--your true immortal wife, your wife the unkillable demigod--is dead.

You flee in terror into a world that is a twisted mockery of the town you grew up in and loved. Twisted oily shadows lash at your body and soul and only the faint echo of the moon goddess' power sustains you as you race unseeing through the eternal darkness, sickened by a core of necromantic energy that you (as a cleric) can constantly sense but can do nothing to purge.

Unable to run any further you find the ruins of what was once an inn and collapse there. Your goddess reaches out to you, despite your conviction that your resurrection must make you disgusting in her eyes. You create a sanctuary and pray for help to come. While digging around in the inn, you find records and papers with confusing dates, and begin to realize that far more time has passed than you initially thought. But with no one alive to explain anything--and, now, an overwhelming paranoia telling you that it would not be wise to be known as Ketheric Thorm's daughter to friend or foe--you're going to need to be very circumspect if you ever intend to figure out the details.

A group of Harpers arrive. Their leader introduces herself as Jaheira, a name you know very well from while you were alive.

Isobel: Jaheira: Isobel, Who Lives In A World That Contains Both Elves And Archdruids: Well that tells me absolutely fuCKING NOTHING--

[starwrighter]

On god, I got my new glasses a day ago and it feel’s like I’ve finally harnessed the true power of my ADHD.

So anyways 2/?? Halloween prompt tw body horror and experimentation

Rotting corpse au lol.

So the nasty burger explosion happens except there’s no Dan. Vlad decides to attempt killing off Danny’s ghost side. Becoming enfatuated with the idea of “resurrecting” Danny, torturing him in the process. Because if he can resurrect someone who’s half dead there’s a chance he’d be able to resurrect Maddie too. Nobody can save Danny because everyone who know who he was and where he might be is either dead or torturing him.

Suddenly there’s no Fenton’s or phantom to protect amity park. Only red huntress who like Danny, is just a teenager. She can’t handle every single ghost that comes through the portal and she sure as hell can’t fight off a plasmius who’s lost his damn mind and given up any scrap of morals in his shriveled ballsack of a heart. Valerie and the rest of Amity park is forced to realize that Phantom is a hero and is needed just as much as Red huntress.

Vlad is becoming more and more deplorable, erratic and irrational. Desperate as his constant medical experiments on Danny turn out fruitless. Vlad finally decides he need to practice with a test subject that’s less dead then he and Danny were.

Jason isn’t happy when he wakes up in a strange lab. He’s even more pissed when he finds the greying old bastard who kidnapped him placed him in a cell with a Child’s carcass laying on cot.

The rage become pure disgusted and unadulterated terror when the corpse has a mental breakdown upon seeing him. The kid’s eyes were milky and lifeless, lips blue and skin almost grey and peeling. You could see his veins beneath paper like skin and his muscles and joints were deteriorating where they were used the most. The kid no longer had eyelids and maggots were festering in the child’s skin.

Jason stared, bile rising up his throat. “Do you still feel pain?” Jason prayed for the answer to be no but the kid just nodded, gesturing at Jason’s emptied gun holster before pointing at his own skull and pretending to shoot himself.

They needed to get out of here fucking asap.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection.

I have spent way too long wondering what on earth was going on here:

G— on his way with the nuke. The ships on the launchpad, twenty hours to go now, less. So much waiting around. Me in my bedroom with a nun and a migraine, her thinking that if she pushed me enough we’d instantiate the Trinity and we’d all be saved. Everyone else drinking.

What on earth does "instantiate the Trinity" mean? What did the nun think she was doing? What did she think John was?

This happens in John 1:20. What is John 1:20 in the Bible?

And he confessed, and denied not; but confessed, I am not the Christ.

It's where John the Baptist is asked if he is the messiah and says that he is not.

But what other role does John the Baptist play in the Bible? As his name might suggest, he baptises. He baptises lots of people, but specifically, he baptises Jesus.

But before he does that, he's out in the wilderness prophesying the end of the world: he warns people of "the wrath to come" and criticises the corrupt authorities and those hoarding wealth and resources. He gets into some trouble with the authorities. All themes that either have or are about to become very pressing in John 1:20...

And then Jesus comes along to be baptised:

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:9-11)

After all his prophesying and calling people to repentence, John the Baptist does something very specific. And suddenly God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all seen together. The gospel passages describing Jesus' baptism by John are some of the key texts that underpin the Christian theology of the Trinity.

The nun has watched John warn people of the doom to come, criticise those who ignore those warnings and value wealth and power. She has watched him perform miracles. And as the clock ticks closer, she is waiting for his moment.

Just as John the Baptist proclaimed the beginning of Jesus' ministry, his actions tearing the heavens open and revealing the truth of God, does the nun expect some climactic action from John to reveal God at the end of days? The book of Revelation too describes heaven as standing open and the figures of the Trinity in action as the end of the world begins.

The nun thought John was a prophet whose decisive action would herald this opening of heaven, the revelation of God, and the end of the world.

When John says she thought "we'd all be saved", that doesn't mean global warming would be fixed, everything would go back to normal, and John and the gang would get tenure and posters of their faces. It means they would all be Saved. The world would end and they, followers of the prophet of the apocalypse, would be amongst "the blessed and holy who share in the first resurrection. The second death has no power over them, but they will be priests of God and of Christ and will reign with him for a thousand years." (Rev 20:6)

This might be starting to sound familiar. Abigail Pent talks about the horrors of a second death. John describes how he picked a worthy few to resurrect and be his followers...

John, of course, was not a prophet. He did not crack open heaven and instantiate the Trinity. He did not usher in the Kingdom of God. He did fundamentally fuck up the boundaries of metaphysics, declare himself god, and then proceed to badly plagiarise the Book of Revelation.

Because what happens next in the Bible may again sound familiar... After that thousand year reign, the Devil is released from prison. There's a final battle. And then, there's the second resurrection:

The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done. Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. (Rev 20:13)

Waiting in death, in the sea or in the underworld until a second resurrection and judgement - where have we heard that before?

Magnus coughed in a genteel Fifth House way, and said, “Who wait for our Lord’s touch on the day of a second Resurrection.”

Although Abigail Pent suspects the metaphysical reality is rather different, this is the eschatology of the Houses: the world ended and the righteous dead were raised by god and they and their descendants live in his myriadic reign. And when that reign ends, he will raise the ancient dead who were not included in that first resurrection and those who wait in the River in a second Resurrection.

What happens after that? In the Bible, the world is destroyed and remade:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. (Rev 20:11)

We don't know what the Houses believe will happen at the second Resurrection. We don't know for sure what John is planning. But in light of Revelation, I do wonder about the poem at the start of NTN:

Let’s put this first-draft dream of mine to bed.

In the appointed hour

I’ll pull up your sheets. I’ll kill the light,

Lie down beside you; die; and sleep the night.

This time will be the time we get it right:

Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long;

Our graves will be less deep, our lies less true.

You held aloft the sword. I still love y-

[bittergirlsworld]

I finally gave up and saw TVD to understand some stuff in TO, and I just have to say: what an awfully written show. My goodness, how the hell is the most annoying girl in Mystic Falls the anchor who holds them together? Caroline, the fandom darling has no personality whatsoever. She's a camaleon, she's what they need her to be in the episode. Sometimes, she's the greatest soul alive, sometimes she's only there to slutshame another girl for doing exactly what she does. Sometimes she's pinning after her boyfriend, sometimes she backstabs him. Sometimes she's so repulsed by the 1000 year murder who bribes her with fancy things and sometimes she's okay to use the hell out of him to have what she needs. Elena, who's supposed to be the protagonist, becomes more and more the love interest to Damon. His love for her, that both recognize as toxic, comes from a sire bond and everyone insists to pretend that she loves him just the same without it as if she wasn't heavily projecting Stefan on him to the point he calls her out. The Originals, who were supposed to be invicible, the most insane of them just dies for a teenage hunter. Finn, the most sane one, portrait as a bore because he resented the bother who kept him in a coffin for thousands of years. Katherine, who I swear is one of the only two female characters really interesting in this show, is called a bitch all the time for the unforgivable crime of running from a psycho hybrid who wanted to slaughter her and then slaughtered her fucking family. Elijah and Rebekah does not exist outside of Klaus. Rebekah was just extremely annoying till they gave her a real personality and in the spin-off. Out of nowhere, she was obsessed with being human. Bonnie, poor Bonnie. The racism was blatantly showing. She was only there to be the magic negro trope. They didn't even allowed her to have romantic storyline! Her boyfriend who she resurrected cheats on her with a freaking ghost and she still back with him in season 5? She deserved so much better. Damon turns her mother in a vampire and then she's his best friend? She loses her entire family as well and is never treated with the same courtesy Elena has been treated. Not even the fancy balls she could attend, apparently. (Her wigs were also terrible. Poor Kat, they made her appear so old sometimes with those hairs).

And the romantic pairings? Awful. Damon and Elena were downright disgusting. He raped Caroline. Why everyone pretends he wasn't compelling her while having sex with her? Why all these centuries old man are so obsessed with fuck teenagers? How's that's romantic, date a girl on high school when you had two shares of a lifetime? Even if we take in consideration the lore that vampires stop aging when they're turned, the only couple who would make sense in this logic were Stefan and Elena, since Stefan was a teenager when turned. Klaus and Caroline had no romantic connection. She used him dry, he bite her to die to make a point to her boyfriend. He would be her last love but fucked her and left. She hated him but would happily accept his gifts while treating him like a dog. Damon and Elena loudly assume to each other that they are terrible together but then forget because they're fucking again. I swear to god, that relationship was pure based on their sex drive. She wanted that old dick so bad she blamed dead Katherine for the fact he killed her friend and threatened her brother.

The timeline made no sense. Plotholes all around. Why Bonnie couldn't make magic while being the anchor? Must be because she would be too powerful, and with Elena being so useless, they couldn't allow that. Caroline is another one completely useless for the plot. She could disappear from the show and wouldn't change a single thing.

It's really awful. After finally seeing this I can say with conviction that The Originals was the best they could have.

[arclundarchivist]

[Spoilers C3E103] Can we talk about…

How some of the party and members of the fandom are just kinda… ignoring how bad things are right now, and it’s wholly Ludinus’s fault??

Like there is this focus on what comes next, and Ashton’s belief that things will somehow *just get better*, but look the fuck around at what Ludinus did when it just comes to him reaching Predathos.

Wards destroyed, resurrection fucked, transportation and communication hamstrung.

They Key is mangling the leylines to the point where not matter *what* happens magic is going to be altered in a way it wasn’t before.

And that’s not even getting into the aggressive alien army he’s now letting run roughshod across Marquet.

If the Gods die/vanish, why is there this concept that those magics will just be fine, when shit is already fucked from his manipulations?

Something *ate* half of the Turst Fields, a farming community that was a staple for all of Tal’Dorei.

Desirat is free, which for those not in the know was trapped beneath a volcano directly next to Beau’s hometown and was the source of about of the geometric activity in the region. I can’t imagine things went *well* there.

*Something* sent sea monsters racing in fear towards the shore in Nicordranas, I’ll give you three guesses.

We saw what happened to that bastion in the Grey Valley, *what the fuck do you think has happened at Bazzozan* the former seat of the Demon Lords?

The Empire of fucked five ways to Sunday.

The Horn of Orcus may be waking up the dead beneath Vasselheim.

And that’s just the shit *we know about*

Is all of that just, what, gonna go back to normal if the Gods die/go away? Fuck no! Now I’ll admit, that doesn’t mean things will go back to normal if the Gods are victorious of course, but I wild bet good money shit would be easier to handle if a vast chunk of the world wasn’t also going through a vast identity/cultural crisis.

Also shit since we’re on hypotheticals let me ask another one.

Folks talk a lot about how divine magic will be fine if the gods vanish, not really acknowledge the colossal amount of trauma and confusion that will afflict every culture as they are abandoned/lose their gods, and we don’t actually know what kind of effect that will have on clerics.

What about the arcane?

Matt never said the Arcane predates the Gods. (Not that I’m aware of anyway.)

In fact if anything Downfall hammered home that the arcane is a creation of Tengar. They leave or die, what happens to it?

Also, shit think about this, wouldn’t the Gods want all the power they could to possibly survive Predathos? Now the Arc Heart, the gifter, not the creator, it seems, claims to be fine with being finite.

You wanna know who isn’t?

The Spider Queen, who if how things were presented in Downfall are true, claims to have given arcane magic to the Arc Heart and regrets it.

Do you think *she* wouldn’t snatch that back out of spite to give her even a bit of a chance to survive? She’s the *most* Betrayer, Betrayer.

I just can’t grasp Ashton’s mindset at all, or those that seem to be agreeing with him and I’m just staring at all the shit that has already gone wrong and wondering how shit doesn’t just get infinitely worse if such a colossal and drastic change takes place.